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flyinbanachab · 4 years ago

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Comfortember 22: Kisses

Our first kiss was on the darkest day of my life.

Vato Falman smiled at the thought.

Read on AO3 or...

The truth wasn't nearly so dramatic, but his brain had a habit of dropping sentences like this into his consciousness. Too bad he couldn't summon them on command; he could have been a poet instead of a soldier.

It HAD been the darkest day of his life, up to that point, quite literally. His first day without a sunrise. Fort Briggs was situated so far north that the sun stayed below the horizon for the six weeks around the winter solstice[1]. And yes, this was his second winter up north, but duties had chanced to keep him south of the fort during those weeks. This was his first, as the locals called it, "nightfall." That morning, the fort had felt downright festive. Everyone walked lighter, smiled bigger, blew off their paperwork[2]. Falman's shift didn't end until 6--everyone with seniority had claimed the earlier shifts--so he missed the sunset itself. But supposedly that didn't matter; the more important event was the party, and THAT was just getting started[3].

Gaily clad soldiers and engineers and techs crowded the gallery, gathering around fire pits and cauldrons of mulled wine. Torches burned along the crenelations of the parapet. It was even almost warm.

Falman stopped at the nearest cauldron and had its keeper fill his thermos (500 cenz). Then he ambled around, chatting with anyone he knew, trying hard to keep his eyes on the person he was talking to instead of searching the crowd for--

Ah. There she was, conversing around a fire pit. Wearing a burgundy velvet blazer over a black sheath dress, with a black ear warmer in place of her usual headband. His brain dropped in the phrase _casually beautiful_ and his heart did a backflip in his chest.

No sooner had he spotted her than she looked back at him, eyes meeting across the gallery. She smiled and raised her thermos at him. After a second of awkward paralysis, he did the same. Had she been looking for him, too? How else could their eyes have met? Should he go talk to her? Was that wave an invitation?

The obvious course of action was... to stall. He joined a different conversation circle instead, and then a different one after that, not really hearing anything being said, always one eye on that burgundy blazer.

"Hey Falman, you ok over there?" One of the guys asked him. "You look a little preoccupied."

Oops.

"Seems dangerous, this much alcohol on a precipice. Does anyone ever go over the wall?" He asked, hoping that would provide suitable cover.

The guy laughed. "Nah. If we partied that hard the general would shut it down for good!"

The man at his right nodded. "And you know she's just looking for an excuse. Well I sure ain't gonna give it to her!"

The burgundy blazer had broken from her huddle and was headed toward a wine station. Now was his chance.

Falman made a show of looking into his thermos. "Ah darn. I'm gonna go get a refill."

He ended up right behind her in the short line. Perfect. Terrifying, but perfect.

"Hey Doc! Happy Nightfall."

Up close, he could see that her dress was subtly shimmery, reflecting the warmth of the firelight. She looked up at him-- she barely came up to his shoulder--and asked, "Where've you been? You missed the big event."

She’d noticed he wasn't there. Had she been looking for him? Falman shrugged sheepishly. "I just came off shift. How was it?"

"Eh." She tipped a palm skyward. "It was really too cloudy to see anything. Just a slow slide into darkness."

"Doesn't seem to have stopped anyone from having a good time. I've never seen Briggs cut loose like this."

"Weird, isn't it? You'd think the big party would be at daybreak."

"Or both."

She laughed at that, handing her coins to the man with the ladle. "I like the way you think, Vato."

Vato. She hadn't called him by his first name before. He would remember.

I like the way you think.

She waited while his thermos was filled, and then they drifted, together, to a corner where someone had thrown a tiny table and two chairs. She sat, crossing her legs, showing off the seams on the back of her nylons. Oh boy-- oh no, had she noticed him looking? Eyes up, Falman.

"This is your second winter here, right?" She asked.

She remembered. His heart rate jumped up an extra few bpm.

"Yeah, but last year was so..." they shared a mutual shrug; there were no adjectives that could contain last year. "I ended up down south for the entire Nightfall. What's it like?"

"Dark. Cold as hell. Claustrophobic." He nodded, remembering how frequently the road to town had been impassible.

"Do people get depressed?"

She made a face. "Of course. It's got a stigma around here, which is SO stupid. You're not weak, you're just not getting any sunlight!" She turned and yelled at the crowd, "I can't treat people who don't come in!!" And turned back to him with a such. "I try and educate them, but I might as well be talking to the wall."

"So how do you cope? People, I mean. With the dark."

"Oh, the usual. Losing themselves in work. Drinking." Doc paused to take a swig from her thermos, then looked him dead in the eyes while saying, "A lot of people pair off."

She might as well have injected him with adrenaline. Oh no. Well, oh YES, but oh NO, he's terrible at flirting. Well, audentes Fortuna iuvat.

"Are you one of them?" Hey, that was pretty good.

She raised an eyebrow. "Occasionally. I have very high standards."

"You should! You're worth it!" Damn. Back to being terrible. At least he was sincere?

But it earned him a smirk. That's not the worst reaction. She asked, "So what are your plans for the long night?"

He took a hit from his thermos before responding. Don't screw this up Vato, don't screw this up! "I don't have any. I mean, nothing different. Read a lot. Sleep a lot." Deep breath. Here we go. Look her in the eyes. Her eyes were deep and curious, looking right back at him. "Would be nice to have some company."

She gave him a full smile at that, so, naturally, this was the moment Karley came running up to them.

"Lieutenant! General Mustang calling!"

Falman turned to him incredulously. "NOW? You’re kidding." But if Mustang was calling for him, it was at very least important, and very likely urgent. With a deep sigh and an apologetic look he stood to leave.

"Sorry--"

She waved him away with an easy smile. "Go do your job, you big important soldier."

Well, what choice did he have? He trotted after Karley, hoping everything was okay.

---

Everything WAS okay, more or less, but it kept him on the phone well past midnight. By the time he hung up with the last contact, he was thoroughly exhausted.

Of course he went back to the party anyway.

And of course she was gone. He made a couple circuits around the gallery to confirm, but it had been hours. The party was manned by an entirely new crew of revelers now.

Had she gone home alone?

Sometimes his brain handed him those kinds of sentences too. He slumped over the outer wall, staring out into the darkness. That was it, wasn't it? That was the moment. And now it's gone, as gone as the sun. Falman dropped his head into his hands.

"Hey, careful!" Neil's inebriated voice sounded from behind. A moment later, a hand clapped his shoulder. "You don' wanna end up like Taylor do ya?"

Falman looked up in surprise. (At least she wasn't with Neil. Maybe she really did have high standards.) He'd seen Taylor here earlier, talked to him even; the man had seemed fine. "What happened to Taylor?"

"He wen'--" Neil, wide-eyed, made a gesture with his hands that, while incredibly sloppy, still effectively conveyed-- "right over th'wall!"

Falman looked down with a gasp, but of course all he could see was darkness. Discounting snowdrifts, it was 168 feet to the ground. A fall of 84 feet had an average survival rate of 10%. Granted, Taylor was a Briggsman, but still... this was twice that height.

"Is he..." ... a red splatter on the snow?

Neil shrugged. "Dunno. Doc took'm to surgery. Hope she had less t'drink than me!" And with that he laughed, too loudly, and shambled off.

Falman straightened up at that, a wave of guilty relief washing over him. She was in surgery. She hadn't gone home with anyone. Duty had called both of them tonight. Well... that's Briggs for you.

He pushed back from the wall and headed toward the exit. There was almost no chance Taylor would make it. But Doc was still in there trying.

---

3:23 am found Falman dozing awkwardly in one of the anteroom's small uncomfortable chairs, but the quiet click of the door latch snapped him awake. There she was. Still in her party clothes[4] and completely exhausted. Her eyes widened at the sight of him.

"...Vato?"

He stood, feeling suddenly shy. This had seemed like a good idea until just this moment. "I-- heard about Taylor. And I thought, however it turned out, you might want someone to walk you home." Whether to brag or to mourn. “Either way, that's a lot to be alone with in the middle of the night.”

She looked at him with those deep, curious eyes, and he panicked. "Of course, if you don't, that's fine, I just thought--"

But Doc smiled a small, ragged smile and nodded. "Thanks.”

They walked the corridors in silence for a few minutes. He didn't ask, and she didn't volunteer. But eventually she spoke, her quiet voice bouncing off the stone walls. "He's stable, but I don't know if he'll ever wake up."

Falman looked down at her, impulsively grabbing her hand. "I know you did everything you could."

She nodded. And gave his hand a squeeze. “I did,” is all she said.

And they kept walking like that, silently, hand in hand, down the echoing halls, until they stood in front of her quarters. She did not move to unlock her door. She did not pull her hand away.

Okay Falman. Don't screw this up.

"Sylvia..."

She looked up at him. Expectantly.

"I know it's been a weird night, but..."

Deep breath.

"...I would very much like to kiss you."

She smiled a warm, ragged smile. "Okay."

So he cupped the side of her face in his hand, and bent over, and met her lips with his. Slowly, gently, keenly aware of the sharp stubble on his face, pulling away much sooner than he'd like, but it was 4 am and they were both exhausted and the last thing he wanted was to be a creep--

But she put a hand behind his neck and tugged at him. "Hey," she said softly, "Where do you think you're going?"

So he smiled like a dope and kissed her again.

---

[1] Likewise, the sun did not set for the six weeks around the summer solstice. But Briggs wasn't known for its windows. He'd barely noticed. [2] Everyone except General Armstrong, of course. But the tradition predated her, and was rooted so strongly and deeply that even she could not completely snuff it out. [3] Okay, he HAD missed the fireworks, which they'd set off at sunset--2:26 pm. But that was fine. He'd heard them well enough, even from his station deep inside the fort. [4] Presumably she had changed into scrubs for the duration of the operation.

#comfortember #comfortember 2020 #vato falman #briggs doctor #faldoc #fullmetal alchemist #fma fanfic #my writing

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imgoingtohellsofuckit · 5 years ago

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His Love

Jasper x Human! Reader

Warning - Mentions of blood, angst

Summary -In your final moments Jasper must decide if he’ll turn you or not

Her first thoughts in her last moments was of him. How he'd be able to handle her death, how she could convince him it wasn't his fault. There was no way he could have gotten there faster. No way he could have stopped it.

His first that was in shambles of pure terror at the thought of losing his lover. As he kneeled beside her bloody figure he could feel the burning sensation in his eyes. The venom mocking his tears he stopped shedding long ago. If he could cry he knew he'd be sobbing. The sight of his manga led love before him was something he couldn't bear. He wanted revenge to tear apart the attacker. He wanted them to feel 1000 levels of fear and heartbreak just as he is right now.

Suddenly all she could think of how they first met. Two moves after Forks lead the Cullens to rainy Portland. It felt nice for them to be on west coast again. And as for Y/n well she had only been there for a bit to attend the college. The two met at the university in a Astronomy class they both shared. He sat beside her and she gushed about how she loved the stars at night. Hearing her speak made Jasper realise that she was the one. He needed her. 6 dates later he confessed his secret of what he is. She wasn't as shocked as he would have imagined. Her mother apparently was a practicing witch that filled her mind with stories of all sorts of creatures. So when she heard the impossible words they somehow made sense. Her eyes trailed over his face noticing his eyes shifting between the gold and black. He was suffering and she could tell. Watching her bleed out fuelled his vampiric thoughts of devouring her.

"It's going to be alright love," he says more convincing himself then her. He pulls her into his arms. With the action he took notice of the blood mixing with the puddles of pouring rain around them. Her blood was spilling at an alarming rate. He could feel his stomach turn in disgust at his own inner thoughts of bloodlust. All that mattered to him was her and the terror in her mind at the though of dying.

She knew she wanted so many things from life. Hence why she was waiting to be turned. She wanted to travel the world and have a family. To live her life for herself and her love. But as she bleeds her future slowly melts away.

The vampire is presented with two options. Turn her and live the rest of his eternity with her but knowing he made her a monster, or let her die in peace and lose her. It was an impossible choice. He didn't want her to suffer as he did. He wanted her to live the life she wanted. However the thought of losing her was something he didn't want to imagine.

"Jasper do you remember the night we got engaged?" She asks weakly. Her mind no longer on the prospect of dying. She's decided she wants to focus on him. Her final moments with him.

He couldn't believe how calm she was with the words? Even straining to speak she seemed so beautiful and collected. But with her urging he allowed himself to revisit the memory. The young couple took longer to get to marriage then Edward and Bella. Dating a total of five years before even getting engaged. Unlike Bella the thought of ageing didn't scare Y/n and the volutri weren't on their case. Meaning they were free to take their time. Something both are grateful for. "It was Venice," Jasper says, "I was so nervous. You had on that blue dress you love. You looked absolute stunning." Her face turns into a smile. "I stumbled over every word. And I didn't know you were going to propose to me to."

Her mind wanders to the night. She thinks of the cool breezing shifting her dress as they walk through the city. The weight of the ring in her pocket as she practiced her lines for how to broach the subject with her lover. In the end Jasper made the first move but with Y/n seconds behind him. They both laughed at how in synch they were. The story would be told a hundred times and every time it got better.

He can't enjoy the memory anymore. Her shallow breaths keep him here with her instead of in the memories. He can feel her pain. All of it. She wants to scream he can tell. Yet she's staying composed for him. Why would she do that? As her eyes met his he knows she doesn't have much time left. He has to make a decision. She raises her hand cupping his cheek.

"The sun is setting on us," She says softly, "it's a shame. I had so much more I wanted to do with you."

"It's doesn't have to," he says desperately, "I can just try just let me."

However she knew it would be to late. She thinks for a moment. Her final words to him shouldn't be arguing.

"I love you," She says. It's airy. A struggle for her to get out.

"I can- I can handle it please just let me try," he whimpers. She doesn't respond. "Darlin?" He watches waiting for her lungs to raise in another struggle of a breath. But it doesn't. She stays completely still. In his own pain he lost the connection to hers. He moves sinking his teeth into her wrists hoping for her to suddenly open her eyes. Tell him it all will be fine. He pulls back looking over her lifeless form. He was too late. Dry sobs escape him as he feels the weight of her death. Pain fills his senses. How would he be able to move on? He was supposed to give her everything she wanted in life but he lead to her death. Just his association was another to call for her execution. He cant do anything. He just stays by her side holding onto her. Watching as the blood moves with the water. He combs through her hair as he sobs. She used to love when he would play with her hair. He wishes he would have done it more. Told her he loved her more. When did he last say I love you to her? Hours ago. And he'd never be able to say it again. He doesn't get an after life with her. Vampires don't go to heaven or hell they just stop existing. Who would she see in the afterlife? Her father? An old boyfriend? Would she wait for him into eternity? Waiting for someone she'd never see? Jasper decide that was the most depressing fate for his lover. He'd rather her spirit rest easy. Then again he couldn't know if there's was an after life for humans either. He hoped there was. The thought of this being the absolute end for her was too much.

It wasn't long before the rest of the Cullens finally arrived.

"Jasper!" Alice yells as she runs towards them. She's worried. All she sees is Y/n in his arms covered in blood. She thought the worst first. He wouldn't hurt her would he?

"Jasper is she..?" Bella asks trailing off as the family stops before him.

"She'll rest easy," Edward says breaking the news to the rest of the family. Carlisle moves to his adopted sons side trying to comfort him.

"You did all you could," Carlisle says. Emmet takes the body from Jasper. Various words of comfort and support fold Jasper but he can't handle it. In a split second he runs away from the family making a point to make his leave dramatic. He cant think clearly. All his mind is telling him is to get out of this place he shared with her. Don't do anything that would remind him of her. He wants to grieve. He wants to kill. He doesn't know what he wants.

Alice back at the site assures the family that he'll be fine. Sadly she looks at the girl she considered family. "We should tell her mother," Alice says to them, "she deserves to know."

"A funeral," Bella says, "we need to have a funeral."

"Right," Esme says as she clings to her husband. It's a solemn time in the group.

The attack made its way all the way to the news. People in the town knew the sweethearts. So when the news dropped that Y/n had passed the entire town seemed to want to check on the boy. But he still hadn't returned. The family made sure to keep tabs. To keep him updated to know about the funeral. At funeral day he still was nowhere to be seen.

Her mother stroked her late daughters hair. The large black casket and stone cold body made it all real.

"She had so much more to give," her mother says sadly. She looks to the Cullen's smiling sadly. "I'm sure you guys did all you could to save my baby."

Despite the truth in the words the family couldn't help but feel guilty. They could have found a way to do more. To prevent it. To make sure she wasn't caught alone.

"I can't believe it," Rose whispers to herself, "I thought she would have turned."

"I know," Emmet says as he tightens his grip around his wife, "I've just been waiting for her to open her eyes. To do something."

"How's Jasper handling it?" Her mother asks. The Cullen's exchange a knowing look.

"He ran off the night it happen," Esme says breaking the news, "he hasn't been back since."

"Don't speak so soon," Edward says as his eyes go to the door. In walks a stone faced Jasper. He doesn't look at anyone. He just moves to the casket. As he reaches the body his eyes stay on her. The family waits for a reaction. But he stays expressionless. He just looked like his normal pained self. Everyone stays silent backing up to give him his space. Suddenly he reaches cupping her check.

"She wanted to go to Pairs," He says with a shaky voice, "she was taking French lessons. Making French food. Anything to hint that she wanted to go. I bought the tickets and had everything booked." He stops talking. A sob escapes his lips. "I love her so much." Alice places a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "I don't want this to be real." Everyone is quiet. All sharing the same opinion. It shouldn't be real. They didn't deserve this. Both had such hard lives and even in the end she can't get a happy ending. "She used her last breath to tell me she loved me."

"I'm glad she had you," Her mother says to Jasper. His eyes met hers. Her and her daughter had the same ones. It was hard to see them.

"I let her die-"

"No you made her happy," She says to him, "before she met you I was worried about her. She had nothing that made her happy anymore. Then all the sudden I get a call from her about some boy she met in class. She talked about you for hours. She really did love you." He drags his thumb across her cheek. "You did her well."

He looks down to the girl laying still. He hopes he did her well. He would make sure to not remember her like this. But to think about the day they met and their engagement. When the spark of life in her lit up a room. He'd remember how she demanded a rooms attention with her bright smile. How she'd trip over nothing. Her angelic laugh. How when they fought she'd pout. Her perfect body. Her soft snores. How she'd make him enjoy the small things in life he lost in his hundreds of years. He'd remember her. He'd love her until the end of his life. Their love was a tragedy and he would do anything to have just a second of it back.

#jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #twilight #twilight x reader #jasper x reader #Jasper x human!reader

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deans-baby-momma · 5 years ago

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The Padackles Link-Chapter 57

“I don’t know Gen,” I say as soon as I get situated on the massage table, answering her earlier question about Jensen and myself. “Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate his efforts but..”

“Are you 100% sure that Jay was bothered because Dani is moving on? Has he told you that was the reason he was so upset and distant after JJ’s party? Because I have known that man for a long time, and I don’t think that’s the whole story.”

She pauses and I consider her words for a moment before she speaks up again.

“Listen, let Jared and I keep Jackson tonight. You and Jay take this as an opportunity to get it all out. Tell him how you feel, what you are thinking and let him tell you his side of the story. He might just surprise you. But I promise you this. If Jensen is still pining for her, I will help you however you want. Need a place to stay? I got you. Want to disappear for a few days? We can go visit my parents.”

“Gen no!” It’s my turn to interrupt her. “I can’t just show up with you at your parents’ home. You don’t get as much time to visit with them as it is. They don’t need a depressed freeloader mooching on their time with their oldest daughter.” I cannot expect her to do that. I can’t expect people who are practically strangers to welcome me into their home while I’m so afflicted and my life is once again turning to shambles.

“Bullshit!” Gen exclaims. I can tell by the shift in her voice that she had lifted her head from the table so I do that same, mirroring her posture. Both of us are only covered by a thin white sheet but we lay there with our upper bodies propped up by our forearms and stare at one another.

“They love you Drea. You are like another daughter to them and they love little man as if he were their own grandson. Hell, they’ll be more than happy to spoil Jackson as much as they have Tom and Shep. Believe me! Everytime I talk to them, they always ask about you guys. They’ll want to help, trust me. And we don’t have to tell them what is going on. Just that you wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle of life. Their ranch is secluded so they will more than understand.” She shrugs as she re-situates on the table. “Besides, it’s just an option. It might not even come to that. You go listen to Jay’s side of the story and then we’ll go from there, Okay?”

“Yea okay,” I concede. “We’ll see.”

I lay back down and get prepared to enjoy the body massage Jensen had so graciously gifted me but I know in my heart that hearing, that seeing Dani with a new man was agonizing to him was going to be torture.

BACK AT THE ACKLES/MURPHY RESIDENCE

Jensen uses the free time he has while Jackson naps to put together the next phase of his plan. While Drea and Gen are being pampered, he cleans the house, finished the laundry and marinades some chicken to grill later.

After placing the bowl of food into the refrigerator, Jensen grabs his phone and opens a music app to create the perfect playlist. It doesn’t take him long to combine the songs that undeniably depicts his affection for the mother of his son. He smiles as he sits the phone down and takes a look at his surroundings.

The house looks like a home. He knows Drea worked endlessly, turning this place into something they can both be proud to call theirs. As he waits for Jackson to wake from his nap, he takes a stroll through the main rooms of the dwelling.

The living room, with its floor to ceiling windows is cozy even with so much natural light flowing in.The creamy beige walls complement the dark paneled ceiling and beams; the white trim was flawlessly matched to the furniture Drea had chosen. As he walks by the sofa, he runs his forefinger along the back of the chaise. The crushed velvet fabric feels so soft and elegant under his touch. The mahogany wood of the coffee table, end tables and armoire are evenly reflected in the area rug, pulling all the pieces together to create a calm and peaceful area to lounge in or to entertain guests.

Turning back toward the kitchen, Jensen takes notice of how even that room, with all its bulky appliances and countertop gadgets was welcoming. The marble-topped island gleams under the bright overhead lights. It was the piece de resistance of the room. The stainless steel of the appliances brought out the silver veins that ran through the white marble, creating a softening effect. The hickory cabinetry played off the hue of the oak floor.

He chuckles as he remembers the way Drea had gazed dreamily at the size of the room. She went on and on about how it was better than she could have imagined and that she had never had anything that nice, growing up or while she had been married to Chad.

FLASHBACK

“Jay, it’s perfect! It’s more than perfect! It’s elegant yet functional. I can see us hosting parties and holidays with plenty of room for everyone to congregate and mingle. And that den! Jay, did you see that den?! The windows and doors were huge! And the recessed ceilings with the beams? Oh my god, I want this house. Do you think we can afford it?”

END FLASHBACK

Jensen grins as he remembers the day he signed the final papers, making the house legally theirs. He couldn’t wait to get home and surprise Drea. He hears the tell-tale signs that Jackson is waking from his nap so he meanders toward the nursery. It was almost time for Jared to be dropping by with his two boys. The Padalecki and Ackles men were going to the park.

Returning home, I quickly realize that Jensen isn’t there. I knew he had made plans with Jared to take the kids to the park. Even though our son was too young to yet enjoy the outing, knowing Jared’s method of watching kids, Tom and Shep were probably running rampant on the play area. The big guy loved to feed his kids sweets and then laugh at them as they ran amok. It was one of Genevieve’s biggest grievances.

Since I am now home alone, no baby to take care off, I decide to enjoy a glass of wine. The day of indulgence at the spa had been relaxing and refreshing but the conversation with Gen had not. It brought up more questions than answers.

Was living with Jensen under the same roof a good thing? Was there so much tension in the air that it was going to have a negative effect on Jackson? Should I try and take our son and move out, taking him away from his father? Would that really be beneficial?

There is no doubt in my mind that Jensen doesn’t completely adore his son and he would in no way do anything detrimental to his child. But with things so bitter between us, were we just causing a hostile environment to raise a kid?

As I sip on the burgundy liquid, I resolutely came to a conclusion.

AT THE PARK

“Jare, man. I swear I don’t know what else to do,” Jensen voices as he holds his son while the Padalecki boys frolic around the toddler equipment at the playground.

“Have you tried explaining it to her?” Jared inquires, quickly reprimanding his oldest son. “Thomas, don’t climb on that!”

“Dude, I have tried so many times but she just cuts me off, changes the subject,” Jensen declares, bouncing Jackson when he begins to whimper. “It’s like she is so sure she is right that she doesn’t want to hear any different.”

“Cognitive dissonance,” Jared states with a nod of his head. “I kinda get that. She has forced herself into believing that you are going to ‘come to your senses and leave her’ that she refuses to consider anything to the contrary.”

“But I love her. Man, I love her so much. Why does she assume I’m going to leave?”

“Think about it Jay. The two most important people in her life, her mom and her husband, left her. Albeit, not willingly but a person’s mind can play some cruel tricks. She loved her mom tremendously and she got sick and died. Then she found Chad and fell deeply in love with him and was happy and then boom, he was gone. Plus, you guys lost a son. I know she loved Jacob dearly. Just another person that she cared for and is no longer here,” Jared ascertains. He chuckles and glances at his best friend before speaking up, keeping an eye on his own kids. “Hell, if I didn’t know better, I’d think she has Sam Winchester syndrome.”

Jensen rolls his eyes but smiles, lifting a sleepy Jackson onto his shoulder. “God help me then.”

THAT EVENING

After our girls day, Gen came back to the house and picked Jackson up along with his diaper bag and an overnight bag. “Talk. To. Him,” she had ordered me before walking out of the house and to her car. I turned around and headed to the bathroom. I want to shower and be relaxed when Jensen and I have that conversation.

Coming out of the bedroom, I smell the enticing aroma of Jensen’s Italian chicken so I head to the kitchen to see if I can assist.

I stand in the doorway between the hall and the kitchen and just watch him. He was so into preparing the food that he hadn’t noticed me yet. It gave me time to appreciate the man in front of me. Jensen was a very good-looking man with his symmetrical features. He was tall and lean but also had a bit of muscle to him, partially from years of doing some of his own stunt work and working out. His golden brown hair was styled in its usual fashion and I could hear faint humming along with the music on his phone coming from his plump pink lips. As I continued to watch him preparing dinner, I couldn’t help but feel my heart swell. I love him so much; that’s why it hurt so bad to know that he was still hung up on Dani.

When he turns to grab a plate, Jensen finally notices me and smiles. The delighted expression reaches his green eyes easily.

“Hey. I was just making you a plate. Want to join me in the dining nook?”

“Sure,” I reply as I head to the refrigerator. “Want a beer or water?”

“Nun uh. You go sit. I’m catering to you tonight.”

With a nod of my head, I turn and approach the table in the nook. There are two long-stemmed candlesticks in the middle and two empty wineglasses, along with a vase of flowers.. Along the windowsill are five tealights, their flames flickering giving off a charming ambience. Jensen had really outdone himself.

“You’ve just thought of everything haven’t you?” I ask with a smirk as I sit and watch him carry two plates and a bottle of wine over.

“Yep.”

After the plates are cleared, Jensen and I sit at the table and just enjoy each other’s company. For the first time in a while, I feel at ease and comfortable with him again. I go to speak when he beats me to it.

“Drea, can we talk? About what’s going on?”

I remember my promise to Gen, that I would listen to whatever he has to tell me, and nod my head. Picking up my wine glass, I take a sip.

“Can I ask you why you think that I’m still in love with Dani?”

“Because I know you are,” I whisper. “Actions speak louder than words. You were so upset that she had moved on that you got drunk, yelled at me and then took off.”

“Baby,” Jensen sighs. “You have it so totally wrong. I didn’t get upset that she was moving on. I’m happy for her. I hope she can find someone to love her as much as I love you. No, it was the WHO she was moving on with.”

“Josh?” I ask, confused. “Why?”

“Because,” Jensen sighs and reaches for my hand. “It’s simple really. He hurt you and she turns around and begins dating him just to throw it in your face.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Oh, how twisted things had become. Jensen had a look of confusion on his face as I continue. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Jay, he didn’t hurt me,” I begin explaining. “Yes, we dated. Mostly to help out Dani but I continued seeing him after we got those results. But honey, I didn’t love him. I wasn’t in love with him. I just….it felt good to have someone to go out with, have a good time. Baby, it doesn’t bother me a bit that Dani is dating Josh. Hell, he is a great guy. And he’s good with kids so we don’t have to worry about JJ. I’m happy for them.”

“What?” Jensen asked, incredulous. “I mean, I know you said when you broke up it was because you didn’t return his feelings, but are you saying-”

“I’m saying, I never loved Josh. Not the least little bit. He was a good friend, that was it.”

“But you two seemed to get along so well. I just knew you two were headed somewhere.”

“Nah, never saw him that way,” I answered, with a shrug of my shoulders. “Like I said, it was someone to go out with. He isn’t my type.”

Jensen quickly gets up and heads to the kitchen, picking his phone up and turning up the volume. Once the guitar begins to play, I recognize the song and feel tears well up into my eyes. Jensen approaches me and holds out his hand for me to take.

As soon as I am standing he pulls me into his embrace and we begin swaying, him whisper-singing the song in my ear.

I guess the time was right for us to say

We'd take our time and live our lives

Together day by day

We'll make a wish and send it on a prayer

We know our dreams will all come true

With love that we can share

With you I never wonder - will you be there for me?

With you I never wonder - you're the right one for me?

I finally found the love of a lifetime

A love to last my whole life through

I finally found the love of a lifetime

Forever in my heart

I finally found the love of a lifetime

With every kiss, our love is like brand-new

And every star up in the sky

Was made for me and you

Still we both know that the road is long

We know that we will be together

Because our love is strong

I finally found the love of a lifetime

A love to last my whole life through

I finally found the love of a lifetime

Forever in my heart

I finally found the love of a lifetime

Ooh, I finally found the love of a lifetime

A love to last my whole life through, ooh

I finally found the love of a lifetime

Forever in my heart

I finally found the love of a lifetime (I finally found the love of a lifetime)

Love of a lifetime (I finally found the love of a lifetime)

I finally found the love (I finally found the love of a lifetime)

Ooh, forever in my heart

I finally found the love of a lifetime, ooh.

“Drea, I love you so much. I was trying to honor you by being pissed that my ex was dating your ex and in the midst of that I almost lost you. You are my love of a lifetime and I don’t ever want to lose you.”

I look up into his jade green eyes to see them wet and almost overflowing. I smile as I tiptoe and whisper in his ear. “Jensen Ackles, I love you too. Make love to me.”

What’d you think? Please leave me some feedback HERE.

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @carryonmywaywardcaptain @darlingpeanut @sunskittlex @sis-tafics @wayward-gypsy @sea040561 @pretty-fortune @squirrelnotsam @death-unbecomes-you @sandlee44 @flamencodiva @internationalmusicteacher @kricketc288 @natura1phenomenon @mannls @nickie-amore @spn-tw-37 @frozenhuntress67 @blacktithe7 @supernaturallymarvellous @thetardishasaquidditchpitch @sirod-30 @heyitscam99 @smoothdogsgirl @i-just-wanna-run-hell @paintballkid711@closetspngirl @starfirerules @vickiq9761 @rainflowermoon @spnbaby-67@drakelover78 @jessieray98 @81mysteriouslyme @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @topthis808 @lilulo-12 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero

#the padackles link #Jensen Ackles #danneel ackles #Jared Padalecki #Genevieve Padalecki #drea murphy #jensen x drea #romance #angst #Smut #cheating #pregnancy #spn rpf #friendship #rpf fiction

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spookyspaghettisundae · 5 years ago

Text

If Only Jenny Knew

Jenny set her jaw and decided to leave the key in the ignition.

Despite the motor being off, the vehicle swayed back and forth, rocking gently like a boat in the breeze, bobbing away on ocean waves. But the ground was neither quaking nor was there any wind strong enough to cause the motions.

Instead, the rocking was caused by the zombies pushing and pulling, just outside the car she sat inside of. The vehicle had stopped altogether. After running on fumes for so long, it was finally out of gas. She still had yet to find a roadmap leading her to that backwater town named Shepherdsville. The place where she knew her brother had last been to before the world went to hell.

A short glance onto her wristwatch showed nightfall was nearing soon. On winter days like these, it came early, and the days were short.

This was a problem.

While the undead walked and shuffled about during the day—easily outrun by living human beings—the creatures sprinted by night. After dusk, the things sprung into action, chasing down the living like ravenous predators.

It did not help that Jenny was both overweight and had trouble running for long distances.

She sighed, took her backpack from the passenger seat, and slung it over a shoulder. Then she grabbed her old man’s wrench that had lied next to the pack, grasping it with an iron grip.

To the tune of a sickening crack indicating a breaking jaw, she left the car, swinging that big heavy wrench like a weapon, wielding it in both hands. Two of the zombies went down immediately after a blow to their heads each, giving her some space to breathe and move. As sluggish as they all were, Jenny conserved her strength for now and ignored the rest of the mob surrounding the car she had hijacked to get here. They were still slow.

She trudged through the snow. Not even an inch deep, the white blanket covering her world was still slippery enough to impede her progress and the crunching sounds were sure to attract the attention of the walking dead.

Only minutes away from the sun setting behind the wooded horizon, she bad begun weaving through the houses. Climbing through a window here, exiting through a backdoor there. Picking up random objects and left-behinds that she might find useful, stashing them in her pack along with other loot.

Dusk felt way too short. Jenny had pressed her luck too far. The zombies sprung into action. Before long, blood pumped in her ears, snow frantically crunched underfoot, and the hungry growls and snarls of the demonic things were all she could hear as she pressed on, wheezing for breath in a mad dash through the overrun town of Muldraugh, Kentucky.

She headed for the only landmark that stood out to her in the vicinity—the bell tower jutting out over a small church. A sign lettered with the phrase “GOD SAVES” stood in front of the parking lot outside the religious edifice.

Adding to her panic and palpable, heart-pounding dread and physical exertion, she saw hordes of running zombies heading towards the parking lot.

She estimated the distance to the church’s large gates too big of a risk and instead of heading there, she leapt through an open window to avoid the swarm of undead. A deathly cold permeated the place. Crystallized frost clung to the edges of furniture and her labored breaths continued to condense into little clouds before her mouth, even in-doors.

There was no time to worry about this, though.

Jenny inhaled sharply, and held her breath.

Sidling up against a wall and staring outside, she stayed on guard, afraid that the damned things might follow her inside. Her lungs screamed but she dared not breathe. When she saw the cluster that had been chasing her run past the window and disappear in the trees behind the church, she allowed herself to breathe again, almost gasping for the air. Her lungs burned.

She began catching her breath. Jenny checked her wristwatch again and stared out into the night outside the pastor’s house. Two minutes since the last zombies had passed by. She dared to close the window and began carefully exploring the rest of this abandoned home.

One by one, she closed any windows that had been left open to banish the cold, and frowned at finding some of the other windows smashed—from the outside. An electric heater stood in a study and the windows there were all still intact. She drew the curtains on the windows until only one crack between them allowed a thin ray of moonlight to pour inside and shed enough illumination for her to navigate the room.

After plugging in the heater, Jenny tested its switch. A small light on it flared up in a dim red. The coils started to emanate a soft orange glow. She took off her gloves and held up open palms against the heater, hovering only a finger’s width away. Sensing warmth emanating from the heater now, no matter how faint it felt against her numb digits, sent a fuzzy sensation throughout her entire body. A brief moment of repose, a short bout of escapism from the existential dread that was the world outside this tiny, dirty room.

She closed the last curtain fully and sunk down against the wall next to the heater, curled up in the jacket she wore, two sizes too large for her.

As usual, she awoke several times during the night. Even the smallest sounds would disrupt her sleep. At one point, she heard the squeaking of greedy hands sliding over the window panes. The zombies were fast and hyper-aggressive by night, but still less intelligent than any known animal.

Come morning, light flooded the countryside. Once more, the undead shambled along, feeble and slow. Away from all of that, Jenny stared into the mirror inside the pastor’s bathroom. She washed her face. Brushed her teeth. Little luxuries that made her feel a million times better when she had the opportunity to experience them. Small moments that allowed her to reminisce about the world that used to be.

She exchanged the bandages wrapped around her bloodied palms and knuckles; painful reminders from punching at zombies and cutting her hands on broken window glass during one of her desperate escapes. She kicked back a handful of pharmaceutical pills and drank some water straight from the faucet to wash them down.

Nearly choked. But her addiction from before the apocalypse had made her callous to ingesting these chemical cocktails on an empty stomach.

Peering out through a broken window, she looked at the church’s bell tower. Large industry-grade lights hung from its sides. If they still worked, she might be able to use them.

How did Morse code work again? She wondered about that while she slipped into a blurry haze. Some of the drugs were already kicking in.

“Fuck it,” she muttered to herself.

Before long, she had snuck into the church and found the control room. There, Jenny hesitated to flick the switches. She was unclear on whether or not the zombies reacted to light. They always reacted to sounds like car engines or other loud noises. What if her trying to signal her brother John would only draw every single zombie here?

Cold reality interfered with the drug-induced delirium that fogged up her perception: a single gunshot exploded nearby. Somewhere right outside the church. Jenny rushed down the stairs and saw a man’s body slumped against the wall right next to the church’s gates. A pool of blood grew underneath his still warm body. There was no saving him, for he had blown his brains out with a revolver.

Some poor bastard who had ended his own life out of desperation. Tears welled up in her eyes. She had never met or known this stranger, but he might have very well been the only other person alive in this hell on earth, and now he was gone. If only she had flicked those light switches rather than dithering, they might have met, she might have prevented his suicide.

Before she could dwell any longer on this soul-crushing circumstance, she heard the moans and shuffling, the crunching of snow as zombies dragged themselves towards the church. In droves. Whole hordes, summoned by the sound of the gunshot, converging on this very location.

She darted out back and crept away through the trees, crawling back into the pastor’s house, away from the church. She watched the walking dead cluster around the church, shattering stained glass as they climbed inside, disappearing through every thinkable hole and eventually stumbling around in circles or standing by on wobbly legs.

The damned cold preserved the things. If only they would rot faster.

She spent the rest of the day watching. Some of the zombies cleared out of the area, wandering on, searching for Earth’s remaining humans. The rest loitered around, much to her frustration and feeding her growing despair.

After giving it some thought, she headed out, carrying a metal baseball bat she had found in the pastor’s house.

For some reason, she clung to the hope of using the bell tower’s lights to signal other survivors.

John still had to be out there.

She had to cling to that belief.

She winced when the baseball bat swung down and cracked skulls, knocked the zombies back, or she hunched over, beating them to a pulp until they stopped moving. She never needed to run from them during the day, herding them around like mindless drones and beating them to a death beyond death. By the time late afternoon hours rolled around, the remaining horde around the church lied motionless in heaps of dead bodies.

Night would return soon, and she was exhausted. The past day’s consistent diet of junk food and microwaved TV dinners certainly did not help. In the contrary, depression gripped her and she felt generally miserable, both physically and mentally drained.

She did not bother tracking the time she had spent since the world ended.

Jenny curled up in a corner of one of the houses she had cleared out in the neighborhood that day, huddled in that huge winter jacket like it was a small tent—or a turtle’s shell. Using a flashlight, she read a book in the room with the heater, hunched over it with her back to the wall, trying to find a modicum of comfort.

The cold wind howled outside. Her vision blurred. She struggled to focus on the text she was reading; some pulp adventure novel. Her mind meandered towards searching the bodies of the zombies tomorrow—perhaps she would find some local maps on them. If John was still out there and he couldn’t see the church’s lights, perhaps she could just find out where Shepherdsville was and head out there to continue her hopeless search.

The next day, she carried out her plan. One of the damned things bit her. Just crawled out of the piles she was searching, unheard. Latched onto her ankles and sunk its teeth into her calf. She kicked it off, caved its skull in completely, bandaged up the awful injury with her first-aid kit.

Part of her expected to die now. If this hell on earth was anything like the Romero flicks, she was infected and going to die soon. Worrying about this but also elated by the discovery of a few different maps—a hiking map of the Muldraugh woods, a West Point road map, and one of Fort Knox—the rest of the day went by quickly. Her leg throbbed where the thing had bitten her, non-stop. The pain dulled her senses, and she popped more pills than usual.

Once the buzz wore off, glasses and mugs clattered as she raided the pastor’s kitchen, searching feverishly for something other than water to drink. The condensing liquid on the bottom of a wine bottle eventually stained a corner of the maps she had spread out as she pieced them together, trying to pinpoint Shepherdsville’s location. No such luck.

Swallowing more painkillers as her calf continued to throb, she swore up a storm while she paced and limped back and forth in the dimly lit room, well aware that still some puzzle pieces—or rather, maps—were missing.

The snow crunched yet again when she crossed the distance to the church and entered. Even though the dark of the night still lingered. She might not have anything left to lose if the bite carried an infection, and the infection would kill her.

Jenny did not know that these zombies were not the result of an infection, and that this would not kill her. But the worry was real.

The bell tower’s lights went on and off in rhythmic patterns. In reality, they meant absolutely nothing in Morse code. In fact, she switched them on and off to the rhythm of a Madonna song that crossed her mind.

The lights on the church’s bell tower glared on, day and night, and flicked on and off for nights to come. The light did not, in fact, lure the zombies to the church.

During daytime, a car horn honked, engines revved. And the bodies kept piling up outside the church as Jenny kept putting down more of the zombies that showed up there. A digital watch’s alarm clock beeped. Shrieking, persistent, mind-splitting little beeps, echoing across the parking lot and drawing more of the shambling fiends to the sound. The beeping watch was buried somewhere in a pile of their rotten corpses, but Jenny had given up looking for it.

Some combination of microwaved TV dinner, pharmaceutical drugs, orange soda and whiskey splattered into the bathroom toilet’s bowl. She heaved and wretched and clutched the ceramic seat’s edges, hurling her stomach contents out. After she stumbled out of the bathroom inside the pastor’s home, she wiped her mouth off with a rag and shot a glance out the window, sweeping her gaze over the parking lot. More of the damned things had arrived.

She wasn’t sure what was making her feel sick. Between everything she had been ingesting, the pain from the bite in her leg and the sheer dread of imagining she was about to turn into a zombie straight out of a Romero flick while all her efforts to find John had been in vain, paired with the endless waves of these creatures assaulting the place she was holding out in in hopes of beckoning her brother—everything hurt. Everything felt awful.

Before long, screeching tires heralded her next deadly ride over the parking lot. The car thundered and thumped and bounced up and down as zombified bodies crunched under its wheels. She stared blankly ahead in the face of the monsters just tumbling off of the banged-up hood and hitting snow-covered asphalt.

The snow was turning muddy red and brown and black with blood from all the zombies she continuously slaughtered.

A veritable sea of corpses with all sorts of implements like broken baseball bats, golf clubs, and crowbars sticking out of them littered the church’s surroundings. Jenny slammed the door shut when she got out and searched the next bodies for more maps.

Another hour later and still feeling sick, she sighed, checking her bandaged knuckles to see how they had healed up.

Still no map of Shepherdsville.

If only Jenny knew that hell was overflowing and demons possessed the corpses of the dead, their evil connection being weakened only by the sun’s light.

If only Jenny knew that she was now the last living person on earth.

—Submitted by Wratts

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thesinglesjukebox · 6 years ago

Video

youtube

BILLIE EILISH - BURY A FRIEND

[7.76]

Why you always play that song so loud? Oh.

Ian Mathers: Over a series of songs and videos, Eilish has practically offered a survey of fears and bad feelings: spiders, isolation, drowning, physical assault, mental illness, poison, other people as monsters, the self as a monster, etc. and here she leans harder than ever into the horror tropes, both sonically and visually. The sampled dentist drill, lyrics equally evoking the monster under the bed and sleep paralysis, the haunted house/nursery rhyme lilt of the verses, the bravado that at least partially stems from her narrative persona already feeling bad enough about herself that you sure as hell can't touch her, and of course the line that recurs over and over: "I wanna end me." It's the sort of thing you can imagine parents freaking out over, and even possibly the (yes, yes, very young) Eilish looking back years from now and thinking the better of. But, much as plenty of pop music conjures up outsized romantic sentiments that listeners gravitate towards despite not actually wanting to follow through with them in a literal sense, it also feels like the kind of darkness that I know many people who don't struggle with suicidal ideation still identify with in the context of a pop song. I'm not actually arguing for its total harmlessness so much as admitting that I don't think total harmlessness is necessary or even desirable in pop, maybe especially when it is from someone as young and who seems to be as tapped into a new vocabulary (sonic and gestural as much as linguistic) as Eilish is so far. The line and the song make me uneasy even as I love it and feel seen by it, as opposed to (say) Juice WRLD's bullshit which doesn't to me feel like it has any redeeming element at all. Eilish and "Bury a Friend," meanwhile, don't need a redeeming element unless you have a problem with the rich history of darkness in pop (as opposed to the rich history of misogyny in pop). Not for nothing does my friend Jess Burke describe her as "Fiona Apple for a Blumhouse future" and of all the paths to go down, that honestly feels like a pretty great one right now. [9]

Tobi Tella: Billie Eilish is one of the first true Gen Z pop stars, and as someone only a year or so older than her I'm impressed with how fresh her music feels on the pop landscape. The sense of dread that appears in most of her music is in full force here, and while I have found some of her music to be a little "2edgy4me," this works by fully leaning into it. It's unlike anything anyone else is making right now. [7]

Alfred Soto: If "Bury a Friend" is a gesture, an experiment -- as if Billie Eilish said, "Let me show how minimalist my music can be, and put in cool noises too" -- then its failure to be more than this is my failure. She's been tuneful before, which means she knows what she's doing. [6]

Jonathan Bradley: "Bury a Friend" sounds like the product of a musical landscape where anything can be heard on demand and none of it comes with context. Billie Eilish's artless murmur suggests that her roots lie in the DIY aesthetics of bedroom folk, but while her music can be wispy and personal in that mode, it wanders into other realms in which it seems not to realize it doesn't belong. This song is punctuated by producer Crooks intoning Eilish's name like a mixtape DJ's drop, while the shrieks that tear into the dark low-end pulse seem torn from Yeezus-era Kanye. There's even some Fiona Apple in the stops and starts punctuating her phrasing. Like Lorde before her, Eilish is adept at playing up the adolescent's attraction to darkness, and the haunted house atmosphere and lyrics about stapled tongues and glass-cut feet settle into a delicious murk. Perhaps most unsettling and most unexpectedly novel about it all is that Eilish doesn't sound like a paralysed gothic heroine. She sounds like one of the monsters. [8]

Katie Gill: Insert that Marge Simpson 'kids, could you lighten up a little?' reaction image here. It only makes sense that the hot new pop sensation is the musical distillation of nihilistic memes and the lolz I'm so depressed joke culture that's permeated the popular consciousness. To her credit, Eilish has her finger perfectly poised on the zeitgeist. Unfortunately, we've been dealing with the zeitgeist for at LEAST two years now. Such ironic detachment and 'I want to end me lmao' already feels out of date -- the fact that the song seems tailor-made to score an American Horror Story scene only dates it even more (those backing screams were a baaad choice). The main thing this does is make me wish that Eilish leaned in more towards her lighter fare. [5]

Vikram Joseph: I've been a Billie Eilish sceptic, but "Bury A Friend" is, if not quite Damascene, certainly revelatory. It feels deliciously, obscenely engrossing; that minimalist pulse, the mocking, nursery-rhyme motif ("What do you want from me? Why don't you run from me?"), those swift, decisive industrial gut-punches, the breathtaking turns of pace and time-signature tightrope-play. Most of all, it's fun, especially when her vocal affectations come off like a demonic sonic negative of Lorde. It feels like her entire aesthetic coming together, a camp horror-flick dark-pop queen finally wearing the crown she's been threatening to unveil for a while now. [8]

William John: At 28 I feel far too old to be pontificating about Billie Eilish, but what I will say is that if their new formula for chart success is to mine the aesthetic of Róisín Murphy circa Ruby Blue, then I'm ready to submit to our new zillennial overlords. [7]

Iris Xie: I've been hearing Billie Eilish everywhere I go, and her music always vibrates with a moody, dark warmth while I move through thrift stores, coffee shops, and sidewalks. Reclaiming whisper-singing from Selena Gomez is a fantastic move, especially when paired with that slight rhythmic drumming, sudden starts and stops, and that little omnipresent danger that I miss so much from f(x)'s Red Light. Our times are escalating faster to some kind of destruction, but in the air, there is exhaustion and energy of both a defiant joy and a quiet numbness. "Bury a Friend," and her album overall embodies that energy in spades. [7]

Will Rivitz: Jump scares in horror movies suck; they're cheap, calculated cash-ins on human predilection to react badly whenever something threatening pops out from the underbrush. Much more difficult to pull off, and much more impressive in its execution and creativity when it succeeds, is the slow-burn thrill. When a ghoulish, uncertain threat is buried ever so imperceptibly below the surface, it roils adrenaline in the most painfully pleasant of ways, as we fail to put our finger on anything about what's about to destroy us except that, make no mistake, it will indeed destroy us. "Bury a Friend" nails that most sublime skin-crawl. The lowing bass and teeth-scraping industrial synths roll around the aural triggers that make every hair on a back stand up with the cold impersonality of coins circling a hyperbolic funnel forever, the end always implied but never achieved. Appropriate, too, since Billie Eilish's main triumph is capturing the slow-burn existential dread of living as a young person in a world thoroughly ruined by those who won't live to see out the ramifications of their present actions. Obliquely, that's "Bury a Friend," a nightmarish Borges y yo resurrection, endlessly Genius-ready especially given the original story now has a Genius annotation itself. (The internet continues to be bizarre.) Instrumentally and lyrically, it's a warped and terrifying celebration of a muddling and destruction of identity supercharged by the less savory bits of our constant interconnectedness; it is, in other words, the best summary of Billie Eilish she could possibly present to us. Eilish affirms our base fears that things are fucked, we're all irrevocably in shambles, and there's absolutely jack shit we can do about it; we might as well learn to celebrate where we're at, since there's nothing else awaiting us. [9]

Alex Clifton: I can't remember the last time I felt this astonished by a song, nor can I remember hearing anything this sublime. I mean this in the gothic sense -- something beautiful and terrifying and subsiding where you've just got to stand and soak it all in. "Bury a Friend" is every nightmare and melodramatic thought I had as a teenager set to music, the suspicion that I was a monster who was better off dead and everyone knew. It felt so plainly written on my skin. But it's not just dark and monstrous. Billie feels scared and sad on the chorus: when we all fall asleep, where do we go? Something in her voice is so vulnerable that I feel cut open myself just hearing it. I fear some older people may hear "Bury a Friend" and write it off as emo teenage poetry, but it's so much more than that. It's the honesty of Lorde's first album mixed in with the sharp crunch of being a teen in 2019, living in a world constantly on fire with questionable prospects for a future. I would expect nothing less from a teenager to be honest, especially one as talented as Eilish. I just wish I had had the courage to be this dark and messy when I was her age. [9]

Will Adams: So much of the Billie Eilish discourse concerns her aesthetic and how it relates to Gen Z, but it often misses a key part of her appeal: how electrifying her music sounds. Tactile, confronting and claustrophobic, Billie and her producer brother Finneas create music that tightens its grip and refuses to let go, and "Bury a Friend" is as good an example as any. Alternately screeching, skittering and booming with sub bass (like "Black Skinhead" crawling with spiders), it conjures up a nightmare you can't look away from. [9]

Katherine St Asaph: A game that is both fun and great for making yourself acutely aware of how fast the grave is yanking you down is asking yourself, and being honest: if you were a teen today, who would you stan? Would you be an Ariana Grande Teen? A Blueface Teen? A Billie Eilish Teen? The depressing truth is that I probably would've been a Lana Del Rey Teen, but I could see myself reluctantly liking this for its weird drama, its dramatic weirdness. I'm convinced people confused about why Billie's dark music appeals to teens have never themselves been teens, the time of life where you endless-repeat Nirvana (ask Dave Grohl) or Sarah Brightman's cover of "Gloomy Sunday" or "Bury a Friend" and often make it out regardless. The flavor of darkness here is more than a little Tim Burton, in the twisted-nursery-rhyme melody, but there's also more than a little "Black Skinhead" and "Night of the Dancing Flame," and how many teen sensations can you conjure those references up for? [9]

Stephen Eisermann: Billie Eilish, especially here, is the exact representation of what would happen if Lorde pulled a Jack Skellington and entered the portal in the trees to find herself in Halloween Town. The same intriguing vocal tics, off-beat metaphors, and bold production choices -- just decorated with horror-tinged jack-o-lanterns and ghost sheets. In other words, I love Billie and I love this song. [8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: "Bury a Friend" is less a song and more an intentionally jarring collection of phrases -- even Eilish's individual lines sound cut off, as if they've been reassembled from a previously coherent whole. Not every piece works -- Crooks' vocal additions are unnecessary and some of Eilish's longer phrasings in the bridge are too stylized. Moreover, the picture that this collage is supposed to be forming never gets cleared up. And yet there's almost an illicit thrill to listening to a pop song that sounds like this, in all of its chaotic terror and joy. [6]

Edward Okulicz: In truth, this song feels like it runs out of gas, but its first 30 seconds are incredibly arresting. It's not that the rest of it is bad, I mean there's a bit where she sounds exactly like Róisín Murphy and that's never bad. Over the course of a bunch of singles, Eilish has used lots of existing musical tropes in an interesting way and built up a style that's unmistakeably her -- maybe I'm just disappointed she's taken it to complete fruition in half a minute and maybe there's nowhere else for her to go but to do a full-on macabre Glitterbeat thing. She's got fans that'll go with her to any place she chooses. [8]

Taylor Alatorre: I'm inclined to dislike most of the well-manicured teenage dramascapes that make up Billie Eilish's discography so far. Maybe it's the narcissism of generational differences -- sure, I was moody and disaffected as a 17-year-old, but I wasn't this kind of moody and disaffected. You're doing anhedonia all wrong, kids! Yet somehow, "Bury a Friend" is able to dislodge me from this self-consciousness by brandishing its own self-consciousness as a weapon and waging a merry war on itself. It's a staging ground for a bunch of one-off experiments and on-the-nose signifiers and 2spooky vocal tics and vintage 2013 alt-pop tropes, all of which seem to communicate: "This is a song that I wrote, and I can debase it however I want." It's squeamish about its own existence yet sure of its purpose, with a simple driving beat that yields to miscellany while warding off the specters of musical theater. Its high point is an archly written low point: the sneeringly drawn out "wowww." in response to a blunt confession of suicidality. If it turns out that reducing the stigma doesn't always lead to better outcomes, at least we got some good banter out of it. [8]

Joshua Copperman: Huh, I guess we are seeing the beauty at the end of culture. And it's suicidal, it's offensive, it's ugly. Then it's fake-deep, and it's edgy, because Heaven forbid we legitimize the concerns of teenagers. The common thing is supposed to be how, as a teenager, everything feels like it matters, but today's teens are growing up in a political moment when nothing feels like it does, if it ever will again. Okay, that's a bit much -- there's a chance that actual teens aren't like this, and this is what people whose brains have been poisoned by Twitter pundits think teenagers must be like. It can't be a huge coincidence, though, that "I wanna end me," "why do you care for me?" and "I'm too expensive!!!" all wound up in a Top 20 hit by a 17-year-old. Like any good writer, Eilish sublimates those fears into a horror movie song from the point of view of the monster under her bed, a pure Tumblr or r/writingprompts move. But with this many Spotify plays, with this much success, it's hard to shake the feeling that along with the stellar "idontwannnabeyouanymore," Eilish is actually onto something with The Youths. Finneas O'Connor's bonkers production, with dentist drills and the 12/8 "Black Skinhead" bounce, certainly helps this stand out. (Rob Kinelski, too, has crafted a mix more interesting than anything his more successful contemporaries like Serban Ghenea have done lately.) Underneath the grimdarkness, what really separates Eilish is the sense of humor; the nursery rhyme bridge seemed a bit obvious, but after hearing songs like "Bad Guy," Eilish sounds completely aware of the tropes she is using. I have no doubt this blurb will age badly if her music gets worse after this, but who cares when there's not much aging left to do? Lead us into the apocalypse, Billie and Finneas! [9]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#Billie Eilish #pop #music #music review #writing

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pinkpaganofficial-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Content and trigger warnings for:

- eating disorder[s] (eds), i.e anorexia, bulimia

- me talking about my suicidal thoughts and venting (I'm ok i just need to like... "word vomit" i guess)

- abandonment by friends

- feeling repression

~~~\\

So i doubt most people on here who follow me know that I suffer from mental illness but I do and have for a very long time. All of the symptoms and effects really came out after my grandfather/best friend passed away when I was 11, 12 years ago. I fell into a hole of depression, anxiety, and disordered eating. From the time I was 11 until I was around 14 I had a very hard time with food. I was suffering from bulimia and I would do the routine binges and purges I had set for myself through the day. I'm surprised my teeth survived all of the stomich acid assaults on them honestly.

I was lonely. I felt so fucking alone in the world. I didn't have many friends. The friends I had were pretty fairweather at the time, as we were kids. They'd hop to the coolest person in their opinions on sight and leave me in the dust, and then come back when they were done, or something happened, whatever. It wasn't stable, and I was always afraid of just being deserted again. My friend who stuck with me, my grandfather, was gone. My grandmother was so in shambles that she doesnt even remember the year after he died at all. My mother is chronically ill, and even though she is and will always be there for me as long as is possible I just couldn't tell her how bad I was feeling. Maybe it was guilt because she has problems that I felt far outweighed mine (haha oh god there's the tears that actually stings).

And my dad is... well.. a dad. Sometimes dads just don't understand things like mental illness, or being an unwell person. My dad loves me. I know that, and I love him a lot too. But he can't understand how these things affect me as he's basically neurotypical in every way. He tries. But I can't find empathy there, and a lot of the time there's misunderstanding when we talk about mental illness. So I didn't tell him anything then either.

I would stay in my room a lot, or be out in the woods a lot. I would scratch up my arms with my nails until they would bleed and I would cry. I felt like I didn't care if I died at that time. My parents raised me religiously in the church and I tried very hard to have a relationship with their concept of a god. But I couldn't because to me in was just emptiness. For me, in that sense, there is nothing there. So my loneliness was running even deeper than just the physical. It was spiritual as well. And idk if anyone reading this has experienced spiritual emptiness, or even is a spiritual person, but please believe me when I say it's Hell.

When I was 14 I rode my bicycle out to a bridge near my home out in the back woods type country. The old train bridge kind with the big cement blocks at the bottom of the pillars holding them up. I remember sitting on the very edge of it just looking down at the cement. I really wanted to jump. Honestly the only reason I didn't was because of my mom. She's the reason I stepped back, got on my bicycle and rode home. Albeit I was crying the whole way home, stayed out in the garden to finish crying, washed my face in the creek and went inside and straight upstairs to my bed and I slept until the next day.

When I was around the end of being 14 I tried repression. I started trying eating normally (which has wrecked me internally, I have major digestive problems as I've always refused to go to a rehab centre, which in itself is not good for me). I started pretending to have a relationship with "God". I tried the whole "cool hip Christian kid" spin from when I was that age until 17 or so. I pushed back my depression, my fears and anxieties and eds to see if I could be happy. And I pretended to be happy for a while. And I fooled a lot of people.

Things weren't by any means okay though. My school work was suffering as it always had, but since the work was harder it was also suffering harder. I picked up smoking cigarettes. I also picked up alcohol more and more. I dated a 21 year old and lost my virginity to him at 16, after much coaxing from him. That was an extremely bad 8 months.

My saving grace and my recharge at the time was a Bible camp I'd attend in the summers. I went for 12 years. Now that I think about it.. that camp was my only constant thing for a very long time. It was always there. And even when it wasn't camp time, the place was so close I could just go talk to the live in managers when I had questions. While my relationship with a god I don't believe in was strained and a facade, the people I met are amazing and have helped me a lot.

In fact, at that camp I spilled a lot of my struggles to my group of close friends. We were just a few girls, only 17 or so. But they had all been through things just as bad as me. Some so close it scared me. I felt accepted by those girls who are now beautiful strong women. So I opened the flood gates of what I had been through. All of my dark times and feelings, thoughts of dying and plans to do it, the bulimia and how it hurt my body, my 21 year old ex and what had happened to me, my struggles in school, my guilt towards my mother as her pregnancy with me put her in her wheelchair, my panic attacks and the anxiety that I'd felt for so long, my loneliness and my desperate want to not be alive. Basically just like, ALL of it. I don't really think that was a gate I could've closed even if I tried at that point. It was just a lot.

It took a while to talk about everything, and by the time I'd covered everything even more young folks like us had come over to sit. I was sobbing. My friends weren't very far behind either. Someone was rubbing my back and another person brought me tissues. I finished and everyone was kinda quiet and sad. One of my friends said "Hey can we all just kinda sit together and pray?" and I said that I thought that was a good idea. So we sat. And we just prayed. Even if they were words floating up to an empty space where I see no god, the solidarity that I felt with my friends and those around showing that they cared about me was overwhelming. I wasn't alone. I had friends. REAL friends who weren't looking for the next best thing. And I didn't feel as empty anymore. Knowing that I had people who genuinely cared for me and everything I'd been through and everything I was made me feel so much more worthy of living, it showed me I wasn't nothing.

A lot has happened since those dark times. I've had other dark times. Anorexia claimed me at 18 as a sufferer, and I still struggle with it to this day. I had a physically and emotionally abusive sociopathic partner in the Autumn of my 21st year. I had a whole 2 year ordeal with someone that I'm not even going to talk about, as this person and I have BOTH put it behind us and forgiven each other and are now friends. I alsp dropped out of high school in grade 11.

But I've had a LOT of light times. I started actively loving my body at 21, which was the first new constant in my life. I took action and got a breast reduction from G to C cup for my health at 18. I left the church and started understanding science better. The spiritualist in me called for more, so I delved into research on Paganism and Wicca. What I found was what I needed. It was the second new constant I needed. So now instead of 1, I had 2.

I live with my fiance now. He's someone who I was schoolmates with in highschool. After a few years of not keeping in touch, we hung out. We got close again. And after a few years we started dating. We've had bumpy patches. 1 break up due to his mental illness (again, it rears its ugly head). But that was short lived. And we are actively improving ourselves while being there for one another. Last March I asked him to marry me to which he said "Well, I was gonna ask you when we got our own place, so obviously yes." (I've dated a lot of people, so I am so happy that it was him I'm going to be with, no offense to any of the guys, girls and other folks I've been with and am friends with). He's my third constant.

I have so much more now than I ever dreamed I could in those dark times, friends.

Moral of the story is:

Friends come and go. But you'll find someone, or multiple people who will care about you enough to stick with you as much as you wanna stick with them.

Don't give up on yourself. You're gonna have a lot of bad times. Life happens and we can't do shit about it. But life also has a lot of really good times worth looking forward to and holding close to heart. You can love yourself no matter who you are or what you look like because you're more than a name or a number on a scale. You're a complex person with real feelings who is worthy of self love. And love from others too.

Pain sucks. Life can suck a whole fucking lot. So much you want it to end. But through all the struggle, the hurt and the mental illness, you still very much deserve a good life. If not more, because you're actively trying to enjoy being alive in a very hard time.

So yeah. Thanks for reading this. I just needed to talk. I felt like I was going to explode and my Instagram isn't really the place to put this.

Take care of yourselfs. Cherish yourself and your time here. Make the best of your situations as much as you can. Hold your loved ones close in mind and heart. And don't be afraid to talk.

#anorexia recovery #bulimia recovery #self love #feels #rant #feelings #depression #anorexia #my past #struggle #victory #pinky

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lillaxtrigger · 6 years ago

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Faded land: Chapter 7

Escaping from the madness of the baseball battle arena, Clara treks her way back towards the resistance camp. The store in her sites, she finds columns of smoke erupting out from the store roof into the night sky. “Oh no.”

Within, the scientist couldn’t believe her eyes. The once hidden and safe haven was now in utter shambles of its former glory. Parts of the roof had fallen down upon the marble floor. Fires had engulfed the carpeting in an orange blaze. Stores shelves big and small had been destroyed, knocked over, and torn to shreds. “Oh no. No!” The worst of it were the countless bloody corpses that littered the market, some of which the scientist had recognized as the people that helped her assemble the stew the other day, others being the soldiers that brought her to this once peaceful camp for the escaping populous. Through the sounds of crackling flames, Clara’s voice echoes through the market: “Boss?...Boss!?...Barley!?” She dashes through the aisles, hoping to find anyone left among the burning wreckage.

Looking into the bosses office, she finds the workplace in just as worse shape as the rest of the store. Bullet hole decorated the small office walls and roof. The desk knocked over and split into pieces. Shelves and picture frames knocked down and broken. Out from the corner of her eye, the scientist spots her backpack that Barley had confiscated. Looking inside, she found nothing out of place, left completely intact. Everything she had was in it. Did they even peek in it? Her backpack back in her possession, she exits the office to look for any potential survivors elsewhere.

Coming to the back of the store, she came across the door of a storage room. Turning the handle proved it to be locked, so she opts to tackle the door down inside. After several tackles, the door breaks down, Clara falling with the broken door. The scientist look up and to be met with her boss and the remaining soldiers protecting what few people they have left, all aiming their firearms at Clara. “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Wait a minute! It’s just me! Put your guns down!” the scientist says as gets back. As the soldiers lower their weapons, Barely approaches her, saying: “Science wiz? You’re alive!” The boss lets out a sigh of relief, noting: “At least one good thing has happened today.” “What...What happened here!? How did the roof collapse!? Why is everything on fire!?” Barley turns back to her soldiers and the other survivors, some couldn’t help but cry. She looks back to the scientist with a grim tone, answering with a somber: “The lion guard. They stormed in and started tearing the place apart. Those bastards started taking the people we were sheltering and shot at anyone who dared to fight back. All of us barely managed to scrape away from their overwhelming numbers, forced to lock ourselves in the storage room with what little we could protect. They left nothing but destruction in their wake…” Clara looks down, wondering how the guard found the hideout in the first place. “But...It ain’t all bad. At least you and the squad made it back.” As soon as she mentions that, a quite hiss escapes the scientists mouth as she bites down on her finger. “Where are they? I want Carly to brief me on the whole mission.” Shaking in her boots, Clara didn’t want to tell the boss her teams grizzly fates, but knew she had virtually no choice. With a heavy swallow, the scientist readies to tell her the bad news. “B-...Barley…Thing is...You may wanna sit down for this...”

As whoever is left of the rebellion puts out the flames all over the store, Clara and Barley sit on the side of a knocked over shelf. The leader of the rebels looks upon the floor, having been told the fate of the rest of the squad. “Charles...Pace...Carly...can’t believe they’re all gone.” Seeing her boss in such a depression, she tries to scoot towards her, hoping to find someway to cheer her up. Clara stops when she hears her boss continue with: “I’m honestly surprised Charles lasted long as he did. Figured he’d get his head popped off on the first day. But, nope. He fought through to the end. Pace was kind of a loose cannon. Always getting into fight with others. Took us awhile to trust him with a gun. But if anyone I thought would make it with to the end with me, it’d be Carly. Her and I started the resistance together so we could make a change, hoping to one day stop Malcolms madness. But looking now. We were damn fools.” Clara rises from the knocked over shelf and stands in front of her boss, suggesting: “Hey, Hey! W-wait second. There still might be hope. We know where Malcolm’s at now. So lets just run in and kill him.”. “With what? We barely have anyone left. Our base is in ruin, most of my soldiers are dead. Betting anything, Malcolms base will be packed with guards. As of now, we don’t stand a chance in hell… What kind of rebel leader am I?” Watching her boss sink into such deep despair before her, Clara doesn’t know what else to say. She was right, with what they have left, they might not even scratch through the bases defense let alone make it to Malcolm. But while a dilemma like this impedes forceful methods, perhaps a more careful approach would work.

Right then and there, a voice pipes up with: “It ain’t over yet.” The two look over to find Hank, standing behind Clara as he stares down upon his boss. “You still got Daryl and I.” “...Thanks Hank, but I don’t think the four of us can take on Malcolms entire security squad.” “What if we help?” someone else asks. Looking to the side, they see some of the people that the rebels were protecting. “You guys. I can’t let any of you fight. You don’t even have any training.” Barley remarks. “What choice do you have?” “As long as we can hold a gun. It’s all the training we need.” “I’m thinking of making those guys pay for taking my husband.” “I wanna get them back for killing my sister!” “But, I’m right here.” “We may not have any army. But if we play our cards right, we might be able to end Malcolm reign by morning.” Daryl states. With a smile, their boss sighs with: “You bunch a bastards.”

The rebel leader rises from her seat, triumphantly declaring: “Alright, people! This our last stand. It’s time we take an all or nothing gambit against Malcolm. We need a plan that can get us straight to the bastard and put a bullet in his brain by lunch. Anybody got any idea?” The boss looks around at what’s left of her forces, wondering who might give her the plan to bring victory. “Um...I think I might have one.” Clara speaks up. “Whatcha got for us, science wiz?” Hank asks. “Well, over at the baseball stadium, they had some security measures set up. If this is the bosses headquarters, I assume they have more then just camera’s in place. But all that security has to be kept somewhere.” “I get it. We sneak in and get to the security room, giving us the perfect opportunity to get the drop on Malcolm.”. “Are you sure we can pull it off. We ain’t exactly a stealth unit.” the boss question. “To be honest. I have no idea if we’re gonna make it.” The bosses hearty laughter echoes through the aisles of the broken camp as she roughly pats the scientist on the back. “That settles it. Gather all the weapons you can everyone. We’re heading out.”

The morning sun begins to rise over the horizon; the twilight glow shining through the many decaying structures. One of which had a couple of guards out near its back door.

From behind one of the buildings, Barely looked around the corner towards a neighboring building to find a pair of lion guards near the back door. She turns back to her squad in waiting, questioning: “Listen up. This final mission will take everything we got. All our energy and focus has to be used to push through the compound. So before we go in, does anyone have to pee? Cause I don’t want us all to rush in and hear one of you has to take a piss.” The leader waits for any of her soldiers to pipe up, seeing them look at one another. “No?...Nobody? Alright, your lose. Hank, get snipen.” At her command, Hank looked from behind the corner, aiming his sniper rifles site at the head of one of the guards.

One of the guards lets out a yawn through his helmet, mentioning: “I am so tired. Over night watch really puts a strain on your eyes. Can’t wait to get to to bed and drift off to-” With a single bullet, the sniper manages to pierce through his helmets. “What the fu-” One more bullet is shot through the other guards skull before it was safe to move in. “Alright, let’s move people!” Barley commands. The squad runs for the back door and drags the bodies away from plain site, the shadows cast by the rising sun concealing their presence. As Daryl peeks behind the back door, Barely asks him: “So, coast clear?” The soldiers gives his boss the thumbs up, queuing them to quickly move in.

Inside, the halls of the facility shined off the reflective marble floor, the two way intersection in front of the sporting a sign showing an arrow pointing left with what looked to be a set of stairs. Two shadows slithered their way along the marble, warning the small army of the oncoming patrol. They swiftly dart towards the nearest room to hide from the passing grunts. As they hid from the patrol, Hank whispers to the scientist: “So, where do you think the security room might be?” “Well usually large facilities like this have their monitoring stations somewhere on the first floor. I’m sure if we search around, we might stumble into it.” “We might?” one of them questions. “Hey, I don’t know this places layout. Do I look like a floor planner to you?” “...Kind off?” After the guards depart from the area, the squad head through the hall in the opposite direction.

A little ways down, they take a glimpse of their first obstacle. A grid of lasers with red beams erupting from the walls and ceiling. The pattern of the lasers makes proceeding without tripping one mostly impossible. “Well, this is unexpected.” Clara pointed out. “What are they?” one of the soldiers asks while reaching for one of the lasers. “Don’t touch those! They’re laser alarms. Trip one and the whole place will know we’re here.” “Then how do we get past?” Barley asks. Clara looks to her squad and says: “Well. some of you are too bulky to slip through the grid. Need to find another way.” Looking around the corner, she spots a mirror in a wash room across the hall. “Wait here.” she tells them as before making her way towards the bathroom.

She sneaks inside and finds one of the stalls closed, presumably with someone inside. Carefully, Clara pries the mirror off the wall, trying not to draw attention from the henchman taking a piss. After successfully taking the mirror off, she hears the toilet flush, her queue to escape.

The scientist uses the reflective surface of the mirror to make an opening big enough to squeeze through. As the soldier squeeze their way past the grid, Barley complements the scientist with: “Nice work.”

Past the grid, they continue down the hall until they come across an open door. One of the soldiers peek inside, seeing a big machine sporting countless screens showing different rooms throughout the building, all being monitored by a few measly grunt. A small vent stood beside the panel, big enough for a person of small stature to crawl within. Turning back towards the squad, the soldier whispers: “I think I found the security room. But there’s a few guards inside.” “Shit. Can’t make it a shoot out. Gunshot’ll echo through the whole floor and we’ll be up to our necks in guard. Now what?” Hank wonders. “No worries. I gots this.” Daryl tells them. The soldier pulls out a grenade from his pocket, whispering: “Ta da!”. “Daryl. I like your enthusiasm, but I don’t think that’s what we need right now.” Barley remarks. “Nah nah. See, it’s a sleep grenade. It’ll just make’em take a quick nap. Watch.”

The soldier pulls the pin and gently rolls the grenade in the room. “Hold your breath.” Daryl warns. The grenade goes off, a cloud of gas spreads throughout the room. One guard smells the gas and asks the other: “You smell something?” “Yeah. What did you eat last night?” the other jokes. “It’s ain’t me you...damn...fool.” “Well then...where...can...” The gas becomes far too much to handle and sends them into a slumbering mess. Once the gas clears, the squad moves in and locks the door behind them.

“Great work. Now we just have to find where that bastard Malcolm is hiding. Everyone take a screens.” Barley orders. Clara peeks over to the sleeping guards, busy snoring their worries away. “Uh, what do we do about them?” she asks. “I’m on it.” one of the soldiers say with rope in their hands.

After tying and gagging both goons, all of them scan through every screen on the console in hopes of tracking down their man. One screen showed a guard patrolling through a hall. Another shows one guard taking a piss in one of the bathrooms. One of them showed a couple of them playing a game of hacky sack in front of some doors. One featured a view of the break room with a few guards talking and drinking coffee. Another showed another bathroom, this time with a guard staring at where the mirror was. One showed a regal looking bedroom. One more a sort of throne room. The rest showed empty hallways on various floors. “Anybody find him yet?” one of the soldiers ask. “No.” “Nope.” “Nothing.” “Nada.” “I think I see a couple guards making out.” ‘Nuhu.” Frustrated, the boss raffles her hair in a growl. “Where is he then? He’s gotta be somewhere in this damn building.”. “What if he’s not home?” Clara suggest. Almost everyone turns towards the scientist, the leader responding with a startling: “Huh?” “What if he’s not home yet? Last I saw him, he was at the baseball stadium. What if he’s still not back?”. “What could he even be doing?” Hank wonders. “I don’t know. The man is running an evil dictatorship, I’m sure he has a lot of stuff to do.”. “Oh shit.” Daryl cursed. “Wait, so none of you thought this might happen? No contingency plan at all? Most of the squad stays dumbfounded and silent, none of them barely able to muster an admittance of fucking up. “Why do people never plan anything through!?” “Would you believe its because of the low education value around here...and by low, I mean none.” Hank tries to retort. Barley claps her hands, going: “Okay team, new plan. We are getting the hell outta.”.

“I found him.” one of the soldiers staring at the monitor announces. Everyone rushes back to the console, scanning through the countless screens. “Where?” “I don’t see him.” “He’s right there.” the one soldier mentions, pointing to a screen with Malcolm heading down a lone hallway. They back away from the console, Barley punching her palm as she retells: “Alright squad. We’re back in action. That bastard’s probably heading for his throne room on the top floor. Let’s move out.” Barley orders. “Wai-wait! What about this place? Someone’s gonna stumble in and know we’re here.” Clara questions. “You stay here and hold the fort. Turn off any kind of security that might get in our way.”. “Coast is clear boss.” one of her soldiers states while looking out the door. All of them head out, with Barley giving one more word before she leaves. “Good luck, science wiz. We’re countin on ya.”. As soon as they leave, Clara lets out a big sigh of frustration while pinching her nose.

Passing through the laser grid once more, the squad prepare to return the bathroom mirror where it came from to avoid suspicion. But it was already too late as two guards were already within, pondering where said mirror might have vanished. “What makes you think I know where the mirror went?” one of them goes. “Well it couldn’t have just pried itself off the wall. Someone had to have took it.” “I’ll bet its Barry again.” “I swear to god. If it is, I’m gonna bust open his kneecaps. This is the seventh time he’s taken the mirror from the bathrooms.” Both guards distracted, Barely and her squad take the moment to sneak by the doorway. One of them looks down to the mirror in their hands.

One of the guards looks behind the other and notices something. “Hey!” Approaching the doorway, the guard finds the mirror they had been looking for, propped on the side. “Here it is. Must have not seen it when we walked in.” “Why was it on the floor?” “Don’t know. Guess Barry must’ve heard me. I’ll let him slide.”

Peeking behind the corner, Hank sees a doorway with two guards on both sides, hearing one of them speak: “I just don’t get it. Why have us where this bulky armor if it can’t do shit against gunfire? Like, isn’t the whole point of wearing armor is for defense. These things are as hard as plastic!” “I know. The other day, I tripped over a rock and cracked my front plating. Had to go through the whole painful process of getting it fixed.” “I swear. I ‘m gonna march up there and tell Malcolm that he needs to give us better armor.” Something like what the Canadians use. Noe those look bad ass.” “You really wanna go and mouth off to Malcolm?” “...No.”.

Beyond the glass of the door, the soldier could make out a set of stairs. “Found a way up, but the stairs are guarded.” he whispers. “Alright Daryl. Chuck another grenade.” “What other grenade?” “What other grena- You mean you only had one!? Why!?” “I only found the one.” “Oh my god...” Barley peeks around the corner, wondering how she might be able to get past the duo of guards. She then looks back towards an open room and asks: “Anybody got a spare bullet shell?”.

“The better question is where he even get these things? Not really any place to make’em. Haven’t seen any kind of factory in the city or anything.” “You hear that?” “Hear what?” “Shh...”. Halting their discussion for just a moment, they hear the sound of a metal ting in the distance. “Sounds like a penny dropping.”. “Come on!”. Both of them start running towards the source of the noise. Turning the corner and passing by the seemingly empty room to find something rolling on the ground. “What is it?”. One of them picks up a single bullet shell, saying: “It’s just a bullet shell.” “That is weird.” As the guards were distracted, the rebel leader and her squad come out of the room and quietly rush for the stairwell. “Can’t believe you remember what a penny is.”

Back in the control room, Clara scanned through the console layout, the hundreds of buttons and switches under the monitors before her. “I wonder which one of these shuts off the laser grid?” With a blind guess, she taps one of the buttons, making a loud alarm suddenly blare out. She frantically mashes the same button again to make it stop. After taking relieved breathe, she hears the phone beside the console ring. Nervously, she answers the phone, responding in a fake male voice: “Hello?” “What happened!? What’s going on!?” “Eh. Do-don’t worry. My finger just slipped. Nothing to worry about. Sorry about that.” “Dammit! Don’t scare us like that! Thought there was an emergency or something.” The guy on the other end hangs up, leaving the scientist to worry about what pushing any of the other buttons might entail. “Guess the name of the game is trail and error. Hooray, my favorite...”

The small army ascends the stairwell, tiptoeing up each step so not to alert anyone coming down. “Hank, how many floors do you think we have to climb?” The boss asks. “Judging from the outside, I’d guess around 20.” “That’s just perfect.” Above them, the small army begins to hear voices descend down the staircase. “I’m telling you! After I killed the guy, his severed head started talking to me. It kept going on about the secrets of time travel. It was freaking me out!” They desperately look around, hoping for any means of escape nearby. “You been taking the acid again, haven’t you?” Spotting a lone door behind them, they rushed inside for cover. “Why do people keep saying that? I’ve been clean for about a…a week now.” “Just a week?”.

On the other side of the doorway, Barley sees a sign over by the door. “6th floor.” The boss gives out a quite growl, complaining: “That’s it. I’m not tiptoeing my way through 14 more floors of this shit.” “Boss. Quite. Someone might here us.” “What was that?” a guard asks. “Came from over here.”

Both guards rush in with their firearms pointing down the hall. The only thing they find out of the ordinary was one of the rooms on the side being open. “Was this door closed?” “Think somebody’s in there?” “Don’t know. Bet you a can of pears there is?” “Oh, you’re on.” One of them enters the darkened room, looking around to see if his friend might have been right. The other watches on as his partner investigates, finding him to be swept away in the darkness. “Skeeter?” Trying the light switch on the side, the henchman finds it to not to work, leaving the room in a thick layer of darkness. The goon soon walks inside the supply room, wondering where is friend might have disappeared to. “Skeeter. This isn’t funny. Quit hiding.” Turning the corner, he could make out what appeared to be his friend, lying motionless on the floor. “Skeeter?”. Turning his partner over showed him to have a knife in his stomach. A clear sign of danger lurking in the dark. He backs away towards the door, hoping to quickly escape and call reinforcements. From behind, he feels a sharp pain that digs into his back. Before he could let out screech of agony, something grabs his mouth and keeps any sound from escaping. Slightly tilting his gaze, the doomed henchman could make out Daryl, a sinister grin painted on the soldiers face. The guards urge to escape slowly drains along with his life, leaving the goon with only one thing left to do. Collapse. The rest of the squad comes out of hiding moments later. “That was a little too close for my liking.” one of the soldiers say. “There’s gotta be a faster way up this damn building. Maybe there’s an elevator around here.” Barley wonders. “What’s an elevator?” Daryl wonders.

A set of switches laid beside the neighboring buttons. She steers her finger towards one of them, trying her luck once again. “Maybe one of these?”. Flipping the switch, the lights to the room turn off. Flipping it again turns them back on. As she rapidly flips them back and forth, the scientist begins to grow quite impatient.

Around the corner, Daryl finds a metal doorway at the end of the hall. “Hey boss. Think I found something. It looks like a pair of metal doors.” Looking where her soldier was viewing, the boss told him: “Daryl. That’s an elevator.” “Oh, so that’s an elevator.” Ignoring her soldiers ignorance, she walks over to the elevator and notices the panel by the side. Taking a closer look, she finds the panel to have no buttons to speak off, simply sporting what looked to be the lens of a camera. She puts her face in front of of the camera and sees it scanning her eyes, the sudden scanning process making her jump back. The panel then speaks out. “Retina data not found.”. The echoing of the speaker was loud enough to catch the attention of some wayward grunts nearby. “What was that?” one of them questions. The soldiers rush away from the elevator and delve into a nearby office.

A couple of guards rush in moments later, one of them asking: “What’d you hear?” “I thought I heard the eye scan go off.” One of the guards takes off her helmet puts his face in front of the scanner. Once the camera finishes its analyzing, the speaker goes: “Retina data acquired.” The elevator then opens, the inside being completely empty. “Maybe its just a glitch?” the other guard said as his partner put her helmet back on. “How? It was just installed last month.” Both of them walk into the elevator, the other guard going: “Let’s just head up. Don’t wanna be late for the tournament.” One of them pushes something on the side of the inside before the doors close. Hank comes out from the office and says: “Oh, I get it. They use their eyes to open the elevator.” “Question is, how are we gonna open it? Doubt anyone would let us in.” Barley wonders. “What if we force a guard to open it?” they hear. All of them turn towards the other soldiers, Barley asking: “What?” “What if we find a lion guard and use his eyes to open up this elevator.” one of them suggests. “And how you think we go about doing that?” Hank asks.

Seeing them sneak through the halls from a cameras feed, Clara looks again to the buttons. Hoping one of them turns the defense systems off, she inches her finger towards one of them. Pushing it makes a wooden bat pop out from the side of the console. A little pinata lowers itself from the roof alongside a rain of confetti soon after. As a mini rendition of the Mexican hat dance plays on a music box, all Clara could really muster to do is stare in dumbfounded irritation.

Sneaking pasts a passing patrol, the squad sneaks towards a lone storage room, where a single guard was checking off an assortment of various canned goods with his clip board within. His whistling echoed passed the doorway, the squadron standing by for orders. When the boss gives the signal for one of the soldier to move in, a single soldier enters, delving behind a wall of cans. As she peeks behind the wall, she notices the cans in front of her, making an idea pop in the newfound soldiers head.

While assorting through the cans, the henchman hears the sound of metal rolling in the distance. Looking over, he finds one of the cans somehow rolled out of the room. Walking out, he picks up the can of corn, wondering how it found its way out of the room. As he was trying to think of why, he turns around, surprised to find the entire battalion, aiming their firearms at the lone guard. “One sound and we shoot.” Hank warns.

As the guards tied up behind Clara begin to awaken, they see her messing about with the control panel of the security system. “I am about done with this stupid thing.” they hear her complain. While they begin to slither towards the door, Clara tries one last time to turn off the laser grid. Flipping one of the switches, she sees the laser alarms in the one of the camera’s turn off. “Yes!” In her short moment of triumph, she notices something on one of the cameras showing the regal bedroom. Malcolm was walking inside, slowly seating himself on the end of his bed. “What is he...” What Clara witnesses next shocks the scientist to her very core. “Oh my god!” Such a bewildering discovering makes her fail to notice the two guards worming their way out the door. “I...I…I-I gotta warn Barley!” In her midst of escape, she stumbles on to the baseball bat on the floor. Clara looks at the blunt weapon, then back to the security panel that gave her so much trouble.

Sneaking their hostage to the elevator, Barely and her squad force him to uses his eyes to open the shaft. After scanning, the doors open. The guard is swept into the shaft as the rebels rush inside. “Hang on a second. I-I opened the elevator for you. Aren’t you supposed to let me go?” the guard stresses. “Care to give us a reason why?” Barley smirks as she puts her gun to the henchman's temple.

A slew of goons rush into the security control room, ready to fire on whoever infiltrated the building. Much to their shock, they find the security console destroyed. Screens cracked, metal bent in, buttons smashed, switches broken, the whole thing was destroyed from top to bottom with a bat sticking out from one of the screens. “What happened here!?” “Oh my god!” “It’s destroyed!” “Is anybody gonna whack this pinata?” All of them were far too distracted with the destruction of the console to notice the vent of the side had been broken into. Approaching the destroyed control panel, one guard wonders out loud: “Does it even still work?” The guard presses several buttons to see if any of them even function.

At the top floor, the sound of a small plastic ball being hit could be heard echoing out through the hallway. Within the break room, several guards were watching two more whacking a ping pong ball across a table. One of them misses hitting the ball as it shoots across, making the other guards cheers. “God dammit!” the loser shouts in his defeat. One of the spectators hands the winner a can of fruit cocktail, congratulating him with: “Nice going, Chuck. You win the ping pong tournament.” “Thanks. Hey, don’t worry Jake. Better luck next month.” Suddenly, the blaring sound of an alarm pierces through the chattering crowd. “Looks like we got us some intruders.” one of them remark. As they start heading out, the winner sets his prize down on the counter. “Nobody touch my friken fruit cocktail!” he shouts as he leaves with the others. One of them stops just before leaving the room and looks back at the can of mixed fruit.

Out from the elevator, the squad hears the alarm echoing throughout the fortress. “Whelp. Looks Like we’ve been found out. Guess its time for plan B.” the boss mention. “Does that involve going on a murderous frenzy for the throne room?” Hank asks. “Yep.” One guard came from behind the corner, point their fire arms, shout: “There over here! I found-” Almost immediately, he’s shot in the head, Barleys gun smoking from the passing bullet. “Oh, that feels so good.” Coming out of the shaft, they break the elevator controls and leave behind the corpse of the hostage they forced in with them.

Meanwhile, Clara making her way up through the air vents of the building, feeling the dusty metal of the shaft as she climbs. “Okay. So I just gotta reach Malcolm before Barley kills him...or vise versa. Glad I found the vent, but why is it so dusty in here?” The scientist coughs up a storm as said dust circulates around her. Looking down, she saw the dizzying heights under her, making her close her eyes. “...Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.” She instead focus her gaze upward to distract from her phobia of heights. “Just focus on what’s u-”.

Above, a spinning fan whirls its sharp blade in the midst of the vertical shaft. Clara knew if she tried to squeeze through, she would become nothing but a bloody paste. She would have to stop the blades from rotating if she had any chance of passing. Reaching into her bag, she thinks to herself: “Need something solid enough to stop those blades?’” The scientist pulls out a can of pears, thinking: “Nah, I actually really like pears.” She puts the can away and rummages through for something else. Pulling the compass out, she thinks: “Definitely need that.” She then pulls out the radioactive battery case. “Absolutely not.” Searching through her bag, she finally comes across something that might help. “Ah ha.”

Barley and the others shoot their way through the halls, laying down a storm of bullets on any goons that might be in their way. Passing through an intersection, a barrage of led scrap by a soldier in the front, making him back up. Hank peeks around and sees a small squad firing at them from around the corner. “I got this.” he tells his comrades. The sniper starts firing down the hall, taking shots of the guards skulls one by one. Its not until the last soldier that Hank gets hit himself. “Hank!” “Hey, finally hit something with this lousy-” the last henchmen mentions before Barley put a bullet in his brains.

After that confrontation, everyone turns their gaze to their shot sniper, the bullet hole on the side of his stomach gushing out blood. Hank coughs as he begins to lament: “Damn it. Was too careless right there...Ey Chief?” “Hank! Don’t worry. Well get you patch up and then-” Daryl tries to tell. “There’s no time. We’re so close. Reinforcements will be hear any minute. Just leave me behind.” “He’s right.” Barley confirms. The squad turns to their boss, hearing her say: “If we die here, then all this’ll be for nothing.” “But we can’t just leave him here, we gotta-” “That’s an order, Daryl!” The sudden bark by his boss makes the soldier silence himself. “There’s too much at stake. I’m sorry.” Everyone looks down, the thought of not helping their dying friend haunting their minds. “Let’s move out.” the boss commands. As the soldiers move on ahead, Barley looks down upon her trusted sniper one last time. “Hank...Thanks for everything.” The soldier salutes her commander and gives his final request. “Give him hell, boss.” With that, Barley starts to catch up with her squad, leaving the former sniper to his fate.

Clara stuffs a can of ravioli into the spinning fans to jam its rotation. The can halting the blades, the scientist quickly climbs through the fan. As she passed through the tight spot, she felt the vibration of the blades as they struggled to turn. Successfully passing through, she looks back with a triumphant smile. “Finally got rid of that last can of ravioli. Stomach couldn’t stand them anymore.” The immense pressure of the blades causes the can to burst, splattering ravioli and meat sauce all over the ventilation shaft, including on the scientist. “Ew. Just...Why?” The scientist lets out an exhausted sighs as she continues her climb up, thinking: “Hope they’re having a better time upstairs then I am.”

Breaking through a pair of double doors, the squad rush into the throne room. Large imposing statues stand tall along the walls of the chamber. On the other side, the dictator that has caused the so much trouble sitting upon his crimson throne with a sinister smile. The glow of the morning sun rises behind his throne. The golden emperor chuckles out loud towards his group of intruder. “Well done. Making it this far was quite the feet.” Malcolm compliments as he rises. The lumbering hulk walks towards the squad: “But this where you journey ends. You’ve fought well, my little rebellion. But now is the time you finally meet your-” One of the soldiers shoots Malcolm square in the face, making the emperor tumble to the ground.

Seeing their long time foe finally dead, Barley takes a long awaited sigh of relief. “It’s over…It’s finally over.” The rebel leader turns towards her squad, ordering: “Alright team, lets get outta here before were swarmed.” All of them were on their way out of the throne room, but come to a sudden halt when they hear the sound of shuffling behind them. Turning around, dread crawls through their bodies as they witness their thought to be dead adversary rise again. The emperor rubs the spot he got shot at, remarking with: “Okay, rude. Can at least let me finish first?” “How...How in the hell...” “As I was saying. You’re rebellion ends here. You’ve certainly been entertaining. But you were never any match for the might of the-” Again the emperor is shot at, making him once more fall to the marble floor. Just when they think he’s dead, he rises again, growling in a fit of anger: “Stop that! I’m trying to deliver my victory speech. Can’t you see you’re constant interruptions are make me-” Once more he is shot, only this time, he stumbles back instead of falling. “Oh to hell with it.” Malcolm remarks.

Ditching the thoughts of a grandiose speech, the golden hulk instead goes straight to the point. Barley's squad unleashes all the firepower they can upon the approaching emperor. Seeing none of the bullets even slow him down, the army tries to split away to avoid the oncoming dictator. Moving swiftly, Malcolm grabs one of the soldiers by the face, the wayward rookie struggling to break free from his majesty's grip. The others watch in horror as the golden giant crushes the soldiers head like a squeezing orange. With one of his foes destroyed, Malcolm gaze ventures towards the others. “You…You monster!” one of the soldier screams as she unloads what left in her gun towards him. As the bullets bounce of his golden armor, Malcolm flips in the air. Descending towards the soldier that shot him, he kicks through her chest. The soldiers body slams down along with the dictators foot, Barley and Daryl, horrified by the gruesome demonstration. “So...Anything else you people want to get off your chest? Come on...Don’t be shy.” Malcolm asks them. Daryl tries to shoot, but is left with no ammo to speak off. “No...Nothing?” In a desperate effort, the soldier charged towards the emperor with the blunt end of his gun. Malcolm catches his pathetic excuse for an attack and easily swipes the gun out from the helpless soldiers grip. “Is that really everything that left? Shame.” Seeing the giant crush his firearms with a single palm, Daryl starts to back way, hoping there was a speck of hope that he could somehow escape. Before the unarmed soldier could even attempt though, Malcolm grabs the poor guy and throws him out the window behind his throne. “Daryl!” Barley screams out. The boss watches as the last of her forces crashes through the glass and plummets down to the concrete ground below. “Mm...Normally I leave this kind of grunt work to my soldiers. But there’s always an amusing sense of satisfactions I get from doing it myself. Perhaps its from the overwhelming shock my enemies that draw across their faces.” the golden lord remarks. Turning to the rebel leader Malcolm sees the fury in her eyes over her murdered comrades. She pulls out a dagger, eager to plunge it deep within the lords insides. “So, close combat is the name of the game now?” With a devious smile, Malcolm punches the palm of his hand. “My favorite.”.

Climbing all the way up the long vertical shaft, Clara grasps the horizontal air duct and lifts herself up. In her heavy panting, she breaths: “I made it...Hooray...Oh god...” Crawling away from the vertical shaft, she heads for the nearest exit she could find.

Finding a way out, she wastes no time breaking through, quite literally kicking the vent out. Finally out of the dusty air ducts, she flops down to the marble floor below. Taking in a much needed dose of clean air, she pants outs loud: “Finally...out. I swear if this isn’t the final floor...I’m going to-” Interrupting her speech was the site of dead grunts littering the halls in a blood soaked mess. Hate to be the janitor around here. “Mmm...Why did I come up here again?...Oh right!” she remembers before sprinting down the red covered hallway.

Slamming his fist down towards Barley, the rebel leader rolls to the side before the punch could connect, cracking the marble floor below. She lunges at him, brandishing her dagger only for the king to knock her aside. Getting up, she sees Malcolm taking the charge towards her and starts doing the same. Once they were face to face, Malcolm readies to clap his hands in between Barley’s head. The boss ducks just before he could clasp her, the forceful pounding of the clap enough to echo through the chamber. Seeing the opportunity arise, she kicks at his leg as she passes by, tripping the giant, his weight shaking the entire room. With the dictator down, she tries to stab him in the back, only for the small blade to shatter on impact. “Come now.”. Malcolm grabs the her arm before she could reel it back. “If bullets can’t harm me. What made you think a dinky dagger would?” The emperor throws the leader into a wall, near one of the large imposing statues. After recovering, she scuttles behind the statue. “Now rebel leader. What makes you think hiding from me now would do any good? It certainly didn’t cut it for your base.” Barley tries to think of anything else she could do to try against the approaching golden monster. Nothing she thinks of would work, guess its time for the last resort. “One thing left.” she thinks. She delves into her breasts for her trump card.

The emperors approaches the statue, insisting with: “This has been a rather fun game. But eventually, all games must come to a close.” He looks behind the statue, expecting to find his foe. “Ah ha!...Huh.”. Looking behind the imposing statue of himself revealed...absolutely nothing. “Hm...Now where did you scuttle off to?”. Looking up, he finds his foe atop his tall statue. “Oh there you are. He he. Look at you, perch atop there. Like a kitten in a tree. Its rather amusing and...” Looking closely, he notices something tightly gritted between her teeth. “What do have in your mouth? Show me.” The leader spits the something in question at Malcolm, the emperors catching it with his hand. “Charming.” he sarcastically replies. Opening his palm revealed a small metal pin. “What?”. Looking down past his hand, he realizes that a grenade was right beside his feet. “Oh...”. The explosive goes off. Barley takes cover from the flying fire and shrapnel. The blast breaks the statues base and makes it tumble down. Barley jumps off before the broken statue crashes to the ground. “Eat that...You son of a bitch.” she decrees, thinking the battle over. Her bravado is forced back in when she hears the king ring out with a hint of malice: “Oh I most certainly did.”. Out from the smoke stood Malcolm, his armor cracked and face scratched. “Now, allow me to be a good host, and serve you something return.”.

Clara runs through the hall, hoping to get to Barley in time. In her rush past a wayward corpse, she recognizes the cadaver, making her grind to a halt. She looks back and finds Hanks dead body. “Mmm...Hank...You made the best vegetable stew I’m ever tasted. Adios.” she fleetly morns. With that done, the scientist continues her sprint down the hall.

Barley evades Malcolms mighty swing, punching overhead and striking the earth. With an opportunity in site, the boss delivers a swift uppercut. As the king backs away, he notices that he can move his arm anymore. Due to the damage the golden lord sustained from the grenade earlier, Malcolm’s body begins to lightly shutter. The force of the hammering punch made his arm completely gives out. “No! Not now!” The site of her foe in such frustration makes her laugh. “What the matter Malcolm? Is this all you’re serving? Or is this guest to much for you to handle?”. “My body hasn’t given out yet. I can still choke the life out of you with the palm of my hand.” The king dashes forward, his arm out ready to grab Barley. She rolls to the side to avoid the kings grip and lunges back to kick the lords other arm. The emperor backs away, losing the last bit of control in his limb as it droops downward. “You were saying?”. “Dammit! Well, if my arms won’t work, then I shall simply stomp the life out of you.” The lord jumps high in the air, descending down towards the boss. Barley dodges out of the way, Malcolm crashing onto the floor with enough force to crack it. The kings looks about for his foe, finding every trace of her to have vanished. “Are we really doing this again?” the king questions. The golden emperor walks through his chamber, wondering where the rebel scum might have fled to now. From behind him, the other statue on the other side of the room began to shake. From behind it, Barley was pushing off the wall to tilt the imposing statue of off its base. By the time the king notices, its already too late. The statue crashes down upon its likeness, its impact shaking the chambers.

Landing upon the ground, Barley sees king crushed under the incredible weight of his own statue. She sits down as a relieved sight escapes her lunges. The sight gives the rebel leader an ironic sense of victory as she catches her breath. Was the battle really over?

Just when Barley was beginning to relax, Malcolm slowly arises, lifting the massive remains of his statue off his body with nothing but his legs. Barley gets right back, ready to tango once again. A rather odd site greets her vision as the king slowly tried to walk towards her. Malcolm was emitting sparks of electricity from his golden body. “You haven’t won yet. I’m still standing.” Malcolm declares, a slight metallic effect drowns over his voice. “As long as I have two working legs. I can still fight.”. And as if on queue, both the lords legs break, making Malcolm fall to the floor. “Dammit!”. Seeing him in this crippled state, Barley slowly approaches. As the downed lord struggles to get up, he hears Barley questioning him: “You feel that Malcolm? That the sadness you gave to so many others as you tore apart their families.”. The rebel leader picks up a wayward rock as she nears the king. “The helplessness you bestowed to the people as you forced them to obey your rule or starve to death.”. Over the broken kings, she lifts up the stone, declaring to him: “As the leader of the rebellion against your rule, your terror, your madness, allow me to end it all.”.

Through the double doors, Clara bursts into the room in a frantic hurry, screaming out: “Wait!”. Both the king and the rebel leader look towards the scientist, Barley giving her a warming smile. “Science wiz? You’re just in time. I’m about to finally end this bastard and his reign of terror. Wanna watch me crack his skull open?” “That’s why I came up here. You can’t.”. Barleys smile instantly breaks, violently retorting with: “What!? Why not!? You forgot all the evil shit this guys done? All those people that died at the arena he ran? All those people at the rebellion camp he slaughtered? My soldiers!? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t plaster this assholes corpse all over the room!” “Because...He has a horrible secret behind him.” “What?” Clara turns her gaze down to the broken lord, telling him: “Malcolm. I saw you. In your bedroom. You took off your armor and revealed who you really are.” The emperors face transforms to one of dread, the thought of his dark secret being found out causes him to fluster. “Y-you saw that!? That camera was supposed to be off around that time! Nobody is supposed to know about that! Nobody!” Barley stomps on the kings head, demanding: “Alright, spill it! What is she talk about that nobodies supposed to know!? Answer me!” “Malcolm. She might really kill you if you don’t show her.” Clara warns.

With no other options, Malcolm is forced to drop his ultimate facade. Barley feels Malcolms head loosen and backs up when his cracked armored plating starts to open up. White smoke erupt from the chest as it opens. From the golden body, a small figure arises from the white clouds. A delicate little boy, dressed in fancy attire stand before the rebel leader. Astonished, Barley drops the stone she was holding behind her. So many questions run through the bossed head, but she’s only able to make a select few come out. “What the hell is going on? Who’s the kid? Why did he come out of Malcolms body?” “I think that might be Malcolm. Am I right?” Clara guesses. “Yes. Seems all of you have forced me to reveal myself. Are you happy now?” Barley puts her hands over her head, rapidly shaking as she tries to process this massive bombshell. “I…I-I don’t...I don’t understand. Malcolm’s been some kid this whole time. The man responsible for killing dozens, if not hundreds of people and ruling the city under an iron heel is nothing but a child!?” “Excuse me? I’m no mere child I am a governing prodigy. I’ve provided jobs for the people thanks to the food supply drop offs and have been keeping Louisville running for about a year now. Before I came along, they were fighting like animals for even the tiniest scraps. But thanks to this robotic suit, I’ve forced this city into a working order again.” “But why did make a death arena then!? Why did you make people fight to the death!?” Barley questions. “To be honest. It was for thinning out the people. If I gave the supplies to everyone in the city, there wouldn’t be enough to go around. So I made an arena where I would force people into death matches, their prize being to fight another day. I get to thin out the population and make an entertaining death sport to keep them happy all at once. Two birds with one stone… But now...Now you’ve ruined it. Once people find that their king is just a powerless child, they won’t listen to me and my entire kingdom will burn. And it’s all your fault!”

As Barley tries to contemplate all she heard, a bunch of lion guard storm the room, their firearms aimed directly at the three. “Everyone, hands in the air!” “Looks like we found our intruders.” “Wait, who’s the kid with them?” Malcolm is thrust in a sweat at the threat of his secret being exposed. “I-” he tries to tell. “That’s Malcolm.” Clara quickly rats out. “You bitch!” Most of the guard looks confused, wondering of what what she said was true. “What’d she say?” “I think she said that kid was Malcolm.” “What!? No way! That kid?” “Can’t be. They have to be lying.” “Wait. Look at the ground.” On the ground, the robotic suit that Malcolm had been piloting had numerous joysticks, buttons and screens within its shell. “Malcolms insides are nothing but machines.” “Have we been really taking orders from a kid this whole time?” The former king was devastated, the thought of the empire he’s worked so hard to establish makes him falls to his knees as he hears the judgmental murmurs of his own guard. “No...No...It’s over.” In his moment of utter defeat, he witnesses Clara’s approach The scientist pulls out the picture with her and Arthur and presents it to the dethroned child. “Now that you’ve been defeated, I have a couple questions to ask. Have you seen this guys around? And if yes, can you tell me where he went?” she asks. “Why should I tell you anything? You ruined my empire, you stupid wench!”

For all the crap she’s had to put up with the past several days, after all the death and murder she witnessed, after all the fighting she’s been forced to participate in, all just to try and find where her friends might be. Nothing would keep her from finding him and the time sphere, the very reason she came to Louisville in the first place, not even this discomplacent child. Clara grabs Malcolm by the shirt collar and starts dragging him towards the broken window. Passing by her boss, Barley looks at the scientist, uttering: “Science wiz?”

The scientist holds Malcolm over the window, the child dangling by his shirt collar as he sees the morning sun rising in the distance. Panicked, the former king grasps Clara’s arm for dear life. “Listen to me very closely. I have traversed my way through a mutated forest. I’ve broke into a radioactive utopia for a car battery. I’ve seen more murders and carnage that could fill a graveyard twice over. I have had more guns pointed at me in the past month then I’ve had my entire life. And, I had put up with you and this whole city’s bullshit, just in the vain hope of finding my friend. And I am sick of it. Sick of just being dragged along all this madness just for a few measly answers. So as pissed as I am, I think it’d be smart of you not to act like a little brat with the threat of having a gruesome trip with you and the 20 story drop towards the cold pavement.” she suggests. “Hold up. Clara, are you really gonna threaten to murder a kid?” Barley questions. “What do you care? This “kid” wiped out your camp of survivors and murdered you’re entire battalion. Some of which were you’re closest friend. He’s not a kid, he’s a monster.” That reminder silences the rebel leader. Malcolm looks behind her and sees his guards standing by, watching as the scene plays out. “What are you all doing!? Don’t just stand there! Kill them!” Against his their kings orders, the guards simply continue to watching in apathy. “Why are you just standing their doing nothing?” “It’s just like you said. They’re not gonna listen to their king now that he’s been reduced to nothing but a sniveling child. Now start talking, before I make you into a bloody pancake.” Looking down upon the long drop below, he saw nothing but the hard concrete awaiting him. Not having much of a choice, he divulges the information he has. “Okay, okay. You win. I tell you what you wanna know.”.

“It all started the other day when the Canadian forces were making their drop off of supplies to the city. He came into town with a strange metal orb. I don’t know what inside that thing, but it was making my sensors go crazy. I needed it. I needed it badly. I went with my forces to try and take the orb, hoping it harness its power. But before we could reach him, the Canadians got to him first. I saw them take him and the orb away to the north.”

“That’s all I know, I swear. I have no clue where they might be taking him. Best guess is that they’re taking him over the border. Now just let me go, please!” With that, Clara throws Malcolm back inside. Upon landing back inside, the former emperor breaks down in a crying fit. The scientist walks past Barley, her asking: “Wh-where are you going?” “I’m getting outta here. Gonna go find my friend...Thanks for everything Barley.” Strutting past the lion guard, she starts to make her way out of the stronghold.

Once out, she take out her compass and find the direction north. As she makes her way through the city, Chaos begins to ensue in the streets. People running, screaming looting, and Clara simply walking past it like it was a Sunday stroll.

At the northern bridge, guards were quelling the rioting of the people who wanted out of the city. Clara sneaks past the unit and crosses through the bridge.

Heading back into the wastelands of nothingness, she leaves the once bustling city behind as smoke rises towards the sky and filters the shining sun.

#faded land #lillaxtrigger

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ihaileysenpai · 7 years ago

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Purpose (Bendy X Hailey Fanfic)

*Angst warning I guess? (The anon asked for it, so can’t stop me) *I was watching the plane crash episode of Grey’s Anatomy and got the idea *Its really long so fair warning *Its bad I know, shush I usually don’t kill people in stories XD

~~~~|~~~~~~ Normal Pov ~~~~|~~~~~~

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

The smell of freshly cooked pastries filled the air, the room was dark, but the only light source was emitted from several lit lanterns that stood on the tables. Swing music filled the atmosphere with a relaxing vibe.

Bendy tapped his fingers on the wooden table as he kept with the rhythm. His younger, yet taller brother could be seen playing on stage with the band. The clarinet was easily pointed out if one listened and paid attention.

Across the table, Bendy noticed the light humming from Hailey. He glanced towards her direction. The relaxed and joyous smile on her face as her attention was fixated on the band onstage and their music.

Bendy felt the world almost fade away as he continued to stare at Hailey with a longing gaze. Many thoughts filled his head, most of which had the life threatening risks.

He didn’t realize the song was over until Hailey clapped her hands and looked at him.

She had a grin. “Good show, huh?” She remarked.

Feeling flustered that he was caught staring, Bendy tried to figure out an answer to the red head.

“I-Uh yeah it was great!” Bendy answered, fumbling over the first few words of his sentence.

“That brother of yours has some talent, it’s great to see great potential like that.” Hailey stated, almost in a daydreaming tone.

Bendy nodded his head in agreement and looked back at the stage to see his brother talking to the piano man. “Yeah, he’s good at that and being a mechanic. He’s going to be great.”

“So are you.”

Bendy turned his head to see Hailey giving him a look. He couldn’t explain it, it looked omniscient, but with something else.

“What?”

Hailey sent a quick glare at Bendy, “You’re also going to do great things. You can play the guitar and you’re one of the best mechanics in the world. May I also remind you that you’ve got the brains and the brawn?” Hailey sighed, “Bendy, you’ve got a lot going for you, whatever you think will hold you back, it shouldn’t.”

Bendy’s staring resurfaced, he was at a loss of words.

Did she know about the illness that he bared?

Was she thinking that it was something else?

“Can you just stop thinking that you’re only destined to die?” Hailey interrupted his thoughts once more.

He spoke without a moment’s thought, he wasn’t sure what he had said. It was between, ‘what are you talking about’ and 'how much do you know?’.

Hailey shrugged her shoulders, “I know that you’re keeping a big secret from me, I don’t blame you, I’m not that extravagant or important. But you’ve got a destiny, it can change the world. I don’t want you to turn cold and bitter, I don’t want you to go throw your adventure whilst depressing thoughts plaguing your thoughts and judgement.” She explained, then shifted her gaze away from the demon.

“Hailey, what are you trying to say?” Bendy questioned, not clearly understanding the message that his companion is trying to spell out for him.

“People care about you, alright? Lots of people, and I care about you too, dingus.” Hailey stated, continuing to avoid looking at him, “Because you effected so many people, you shouldn’t give up on your dreams.”

A sympathetic smile washed into Bendy’s face, he gently reached over and latched onto Hailey’s hand that rested on the table.

“I see what you’re getting at. And okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. You have a point, I’ll accept that. I’ll try and stay more 'hopeful’, okay? And I care about you too.” Bendy accepted in a feathery tone.

Hailey had a small smile on her face, returning her gaze at Bendy.

“Alright, I’m glad to hear that.” She rejoiced in her mellifluous voice.

“If anything, you could be apart of the whole destiny thing too. Me and Boris have a purpose, whose saying that you can’t join us in that? If you want to that is.” Bendy negotiated, making Hailey look aback.

“Y-you want me to join you?” Bendy nodded his head, making Hailey giggle, “Sure, I’ll come. But only if you promise to keep that mind of yours working. You need a plan for when this whole destiny thing is over, are we okie doki?” Hailey proposed.

Bendy chuckled, “With you there, I doubt I’ll have hear the end of it.”

The two smiled brightly at eachother, perhaps there was sentiment between their shared glances.

“Hey guys! I’m back!” Boris greeted with a joyous tone, as he maneuvered towards the table. “Didja like the songs?” He asked.

“It was great, Boris!” Hailey complimented.

“Yeah good job, bro.” Bendy followed, then explained what was happening to Boris.

He couldn’t help but smile, maybe he did have a future.

**********

“Where the hell are they?!” Cuphead groaned in annoyance.

“How should I know? We got seperated so fast that I couldn’t ask where everyone was going!” Bendy retorted, sarcasm lacing in his words.

The two walked at a quick pace, water dripping from their heads to their toes. They were trapped in what seemed as a labyrinth maze cave.

“Boris? Mr Felix? Hailey?”

“Mugs? Jackpot?”

The two called for the others within their group multiple times, but much to their dismay, no answers so far.

Bendy tried to light their disheartened atmosphere by talking about nurses and how everyone needed a hot nurse.

Cuphead only rolled his eyes and had his memory recall his first encounter with the rabbit nurse who took care of his brother.

Once pestering Cuphead about his sudden blush, Bendy and Cuphead were suddenly falling down after the rocks beneath them caved in.

After the tumbling the duo had to endure before reuniting with their brothers, Bendy began to question where the remaining members of the group were.

“We don’t know where Mr Felix or Jackpot are.” Boris exhaled in a defeated manner.

“What about Hailey? Did you see her?” Bendy more persistently questioned.

Mugman shook his head, causing a panic to fuel Bendy’s judgment.

“We have to keep looking.” He said in a stern tone and turned to lead the way.

“Bendy wait! We’ll find them, but we should give Boris another moment to recover.” Mugman tried to reason.

Before Bendy or anyone could respond, a loud roar and ground shaking thud appeared before them, only in the form of a humongous Bolder Spider.

The group of makes yelped in surprise, to which was followed by a wash of relief when the bolder spider fell to the ground before them and Felix hopped down with Jackpot nestling in his jacket.

“Is everyone alright?” Felix asked, inspecting everyone that was present.

“Yeah, we’re okay!” Mugman grinned.

“Bendy would be better if he found his lady friend.” Cuphead pointed out the small demon, whom looked stressed and panicked.

Felix put a hand on Bendy’s shoulder and reassured him that they would find their friend.

………

After getting their hair and fur brushed, the group trudged on, Bendy’s panicks only growing.

“Errr where can she be? Maybe she’s hiding from another giant spider, or looking for us? Maybe she’s on higher ground? O-or she got eaten by a spider, or drowned or-” Bendy began listening the possibilities in a fast speed, to which Felix turned Bendy’s attention to him.

“Bendy, calm down! Hailey is going to be fine, you know it and I know it, alright? The more you panic, the more unprepared you will be when you see her small scrapes.” Felix calmly explained, “Now take a breath and let’s keep-”

The loud booming sounds of rocks falling interrupted Felix. The group looked up, and quickly stepped aside as the rocks plummeted to the ground. With that, the quick image of a red, pale and light brownish gray fell with it.

It was at that moment that Bendy felt the world slow down. He recognized those colours.

It was her.

Once time regained its proper scheme and the rocks stopped falling, Bendy and the others rushed towards the coloured figure.

Tossing the few stones that covered her, Bendy pulled Hailey from the rocks.

“H-hey Hailey! You alright? C'mon open your eyes.” Bendy begged, struggling to sound calm.

A wince in pain and reluctant bit of her eyelids opened, made Bendy sigh in relief.

“O-ow, damn. Whoever said rock sliding was fun, is a liar. Damn I hurt.” Hailey remarked, clearly in pain.

Crouching down next to the two, Felix and the others looked for any noticeable injuries. Bendy would, but he was too busy keeping Hailey awake and talking.

“Hailey, where are you feeling pain?” Felix inquired.

“U-Um, my head, my left arm, my right knee and some of my stomach is kinda not okay.” Hailey tried to be funny, but her voice was sounding strained.

Bendy inspected her head, only to find a small goose egg (Owie) on it, Felix wrapped her lightly gashed arm and stomach.

“Alrightio, we good to go?” Felix asked, after finishing his work.

Bendy looked down at Hailey, “Can you walk?” He asked, as he tried to help her sit up.

“A-ah!” Hailey grimaced as she felt a head rush, she held her head in her hand for a moment before nodding that she could manage.

Of course, Bendy helped her with standing up and walking either way (I can walk ya dummy!).

With that the group was back on the challenge of finding the piece for the ink machine.

Bendy tried to make small talk in order to distract Hailey from her pain. Right now they were on the topic of what Felix’s newest and future books may be about (lemme read them!)

“How about a mystery of the scroll? You know, only now it’s a different scroll with some prophecy about some cult taking over the world, but the twist is that a demon saves the world?” Bendy suggested, clearly proud of his idea.

Hailey chuckled, “Are you saying that the demon would be a characterization of you? Irony Bendy, you’ve got that part right.” She remarked, then began to ponder one herself, “How about one where two idiots gamble with the devil, only to have their lives in shambles and they are forced to work for the devil, while he resurfaces a global crisis?” Hailey wondered, then sent a quick glare at Cuphead.

The Cupbros looked at eachother in a subtle manner, but were taken aback by Hailey’s comment.

Felix chuckled, “Oh please, who would be dumb enough to do that?”

Hailey shrugged her one shoulder, “Not sure, maybe it is pretty stupid. Never mind.”

(;D)

Soon, the group came to a halt when the map pointed at a wall of rocks. The group exchanged looks of confusion, before Bendy helped Hailey lean against the opposing rock wall. Bendy rolled up his sleeves and commented on how easy it would be to clear all the rocks.

Cuphead scoffed, “Don’t sell yourself short, Bendy. There’s no way that you- huh?!”

Bendy already had lifted a boulder three times his own size, catching the Cupbros by surprise.

A whistle could be heard by Hailey, “Damn sir, you aren’t one to be messed with!” She commented, causing Bendy to smirk and wink at her.

Boris then commented on how long it was going to take using Bendy’s method to clear the path. Bendy silenced cursed before setting the boulder down.

Mugs then grinned enthusiastically, “Don’t sweat it Bendy! We’ll destroy this wall in no time! Right Cup?” He offered.

Cuphead looked hesitantly and anxiously at the wall, “Umm..”

“C'mon bro! Let’s do this!”

Reluctantly, Cuphead looked at his hand, then zoned out for a moment. He could hear white noise, until Mugman asked if he was ready.

“I don’t want to, okay?! My vision is still blurry!” Cuphead shouted, uneasiness filled his tone.

“Alright, jeez.” Mugman responded, then retained his energetic demeanour. “Well then, double the power for me! You guys might want to stand back for this!”

Cuphead fell into another short daze, only to have Bendy pull him back.

“Earth to airhead, your bro told us to stand back.” Bendy remarked.

Hailey called the two boys over to her, which they obliged to.

“Hey Cupper, you okay bud?” Hailey questioned with concern.

“Y-yeah, I just don’t want to miss and have an avalanche on us.” Cuphead replied, darting his eyes to the side.

Hailey smiled gently, “Alright, just making sure you’re doing okay.”

Cuphead sighed, “Thanks.”

Bendy noticed that Mugs was beginning to use his doubled attack. Bendy put a hand on Hailey’s shoulder and stood protectively infront of her.

As the mesmerizing colours erupted from Mugman’s hands, everyone looked away and awaited for the rest of the attack.

“HIIIIIIIi- YAAA!”

Suddenly, the rocks were gone in a cloud of dust, which once was settled, shown a waterfall brightly lit.

“Great job Mugs!”

Boris and the others gathered around him and chirped happily about his abilities.

“Hey look at the opening you made! It’s so beautiful!” Hailey pointed at the waterfall.

“Let’s hope that it’s an exit.” Felix added and peered over the boulders that remained.

Boris looked down at the map and grinned, “According to the map, the piece is just up ahea-”

Suddenly Felix whipped around and hushed Boris.

Before anyone could ask the reasoning behind his sudden actions, the loud sounds of crunching erupted from the other side of the group.

The group peered over the rocks to see the giant mermaid lady munching on the giant boulder spiders.

“Holy Chrysler, that’s a big lady!” Hailey exclaimed in a hushed voice. “Bendy stop staring.” She said, not even looking at him.

Bendy blinked, “Wh-what, I wasn’t staring!”

“Yeah at the Mermaid lady at least.” Cuphead pointed out.

Hailey then looked at Bendy, who had a small blush castigated across his face. He quickly pouted and glared at Cuphead. Laughing and chuckles could be heard by the group.

The happy moment was interrupted when the group caught sight of Jackpot missing and heading towards the giant mermaid. After several attacks and Bendy throwing a boulder towards the giant mermaid, a sudden gut wrenching feeling hit Hailey.

She quickly looked at everyone, until her eyes fell upon the staring boy himself reached her field of sight.

He looked exhausted and overworked, his breath looked jagged. Leaning against the wall of rocks and slowly made her way to Bendy.

“Bendy, what’s wrong?” Hailey questioned, putting a hand on his shoulder. She felt him in onto her.

“I-I can’t, not right now.. they need me.” He murmured in transparent pain.

“An ink attack? Here just sit down for a-”

“No Hailey! I need to help- I need to- GAH!” Before her eyes, a red aura surrounded him, and black was seeping into his eyes. He held his head in his hands, and he trembled.

“Bendy- oh god what-what should I-”

It all happened so fast, she couldn’t remember the details of how it happened, but it did. Standing before her was a taller and ink dripping version of someone she cared dearly for.

“B-bendy..?”

Hailey felt for a loss of words, once he looked back at her, Hailey thought that her heart momentarily stopped. How was she supposed to react to such a scenario.

She would back up against the rocks, but she was already using them for leverage and she wouldn’t be able to.

“B-Bendy, please tell me that it’s you.” Hailey pleaded.

The tall figure loomed overtop of the smaller girl.

Unexpectedly, Hailey felt a gentle pressure on her forehead. “Don’t look so scared, Hailey. It’s still me” Bendy’s voice was deeper, but with a slight gravel.

A huge wave of relied swept over Hailey, she smiled, “There you are.”

Bnedy quickly and gently helped her to the ground. “Sit here, and don’t move. We’ll get this bitch and the piece in a few minutes, okay?”

Hailey pouted but shrugged in acceptance, “Fine, fine, just don’t let anyone else get hurt, that goes especially for you too, okay?” Hailey then smirked, “And you’ve got some explaining to do once it’s over.”

Bendy chuckled, “I promise, you’ll have the honour of being the first to hear when I figure it out.” Bendy winked and left.

That’s when the battle began. Mugs shot his laser and Bendy striked the giant mermaid every chance they got. Everyone’s reaction to Bendy’s sudden change of form was of shock, Mugman being oddly accepting of the whole concept.

After the whole mermaid suddenly changing tactics and eating Mugman, much to everyone’s horror. The brawl changed. Rocks were being thrown and the boys were taking every chance to attack.

Hailey felt uneasy, for the ground was shaking and she could hear rumbles coming closer with every collision with a person and the rocks.

She huffed out some air, in hopes that the anxious oxygen would release and ease her body.

“We can’t keep this up! We need a plan!” Boris called out to the others.

Felix looked from side to side, in hopes that an idea would form in his head.

“How about I shoot those rocks and you knock her down, then that might end her, crack her head for the piece and then we-” Cuphead suggested, trying to think of a way to get his brother out.

“That could work, let’s do it!” Bendy agreed and jumped from the side wall to tackle the mermaid down. It took some wrestling and tugging to get her off balance, but at the sound of the giant mermaid colliding onto the ground, the plan was far in motion.

The sounds of rumbling above caught the attention of Boris, Hailey and Felix.

“Cuphead wait-”

“CUPS SHOOT HER WHILES SHE’S DOWN!” Bendy shouted, not hearing Felix trying to warn them.

Not hesitating, Cuphead aimed his finger and did the similar double attack as his brother. “This is for my brother, you bitch!” He whispered and shot his attack.

As the dust clouded and the rocks tumbled down on the mermaid, Bendy quickly avoided any type of hit.

He joined the group as they watched the giant mermaid give small twitches, but her abdomen was buried under the rubble.

“Did we… is she?” Boris tried to ask, but was interrupted by only yet another rumbling sound, only this time it was louder.

“Guys, we need to move, it’s coming from over there- oh no.”

“HAILEY!”

The rocks were falling in the direction that Bendy left Hailey at. She was doing her best to scoot away but something else was wrong.

Just like when he first met her hazel green eyes, when he had their first conversation, when she fell along with the the rocks earlier and now.

Time felt like it had stopped, Bendy was frozen as he tried to lunge toward Hailey. But she looked directly at him, and moved her lips, but he didn’t hear what she was saying.

One moment he was joking with her about books and such, and now he was desperately trying to dig out his companion from a pile of rocks.

“Hailey?! Hailey! Answer me dammit!” Bendy begged and called, throwing rocks and boulders in every direction. Everyone tried to join in and help, desperation in every movement.

It wasn’t until he found a bloodied hand that he felt a higher rush of adrenaline. “I found her!” He cried and pulled more rocks from the pile.

After being able to pull her bruised and bloodied body out of the pile, Bendy cradled Hailey in his arms.

“Hailey, p-please tell me that you’re okay..” Bendy’s voice wavered, gently wiping the blood that dripped from her nose.

“She’s really beat up.” Felix murmured and began to search his bag for medical supplies, Boris followed the actions with his own bag.

“I.. t-totally lied, the rock .. slide was like rolling down a hill.. ah.. the amount of bruises I’ll have tomorrow.. that’s what I get for being fragile..” The strained and hushed voice came from the pained girl.

“Ah- Jesus, you really won’t die will ya? Tough little girl.” Cuphead remarked, in an attempt to calm everyone down.

“Haaah, yeah.. ha. If I don’t b-bleed out f-first.” Hailey remarked in parted huffs.

“You won’t! Stupid, we have bandages and medicine!” Bendy growled.

“Bandaids and painkillers won’t fix broken bones.” Hailey stated, looking right into Bendy’s eyes.

“W-we can try and cover as much as we can!” Boris said, pulling out items from his bag.

“S-see? We can patch you up enough until we can get you to a doctor.” Bendy pleaded.

“Bendy, I feel broken everywhere, it hurts everywhere… I-I don’t know how to describe it, I just-”

“Hailey stop talking like that, you are going to be fine!”

A bit of the hope that the others had slipped, as Hailey began to cough and hack up some of her own blood, to which she covered her mouth with her hand and stared at it.

“D-damn…” She cursed quietly, but more calm than what the group surrounding her were.

As her trembling hand dropped, she glanced at Felix and Boris, “Don’t waste your supplies on me, I’m a lost cause.” She smiled weakly. “Not the most heroic death I was hoping, but at least I’m not alone.”

The two stared in horror at her, before averted their distraught gazes somewhere else.

Bendy held Hailey’s chin and turned her so that they looked directly at each other, “For god sake Hailey, you can’t die!”

“But I-”

“No! You’re supposed to be here when we get this and the rest of the pieces, you’re supposed to be here when we fix the machine and I’m cured! You told me to have dreams, but I can’t if you aren’t there!” Bendy’s voice was breaking through his words. “You were going to be my person, we would get married and have a family. I can’t do that without you there! You can’t tell me to do these things and then die on me, alright?! I fucking love you so much!”

Tears began to fall from Bendy’s eyes, his lips quivered as he felt a shaky hand weakly grab onto his own.

“That sounds …nice.. how many kids would that be..?” Hailey asked, raising her eyebrow.

“.. 4, an even number, s-so no one gets left out.” Bendy wavered.

A small weak laugh escaped Hailey, as it did so, she winced in pain, “That’s a g-good idea, heh, I’d like that… because I really fucking love you too.”

Bendy tried to smile through his tears, “I-I know, so now that you and I know, you can’t d-die, you hear me?!”

Hailey’s eyes were half lidded, “Maybe a house in the countryside… you know, 'cause I’m a country girl. It’s so quiet and away from the.. crowds of people. The kids would have more room to play.. heh.” Hailey was starting to trail off her words.

Bendy looked at the others for someone to do something. His eyes clearly read his desperation for anything to happen.

Felix only nodded his head, seemingly for Bendy to continue talking to his beloved before she was gone.“

When Bendy looked back down at Hailey, her usually pale skin was now almost a new shade of white. He grabbed onto her hand and gently squeezed it.

"Y-yeah, that’s a great idea. Maybe just outside of a s-small town, so they can go to school and w-we’re close to friends.” Bendy tried to continue talking about this so called future he dreamt of, only to have it slipping away from him. “Hailey, I just want you to know that we would be s-so happy.” Bendy began to weep.

“I know, maybe I’ll.. see you there..?” Hailey’s weakened voice began to succumb to the pain.

“.. y-yeah, I’ll make sure to look for you.”

“But.. you have to fulfill your purpose.. and live your life..that’s our deal..”

Bendy hesitated to respond, it was so difficult to say goodbye to someone dear to you, let alone agree to let them go and not live the future you planned for eachother.

“…..o-okay, I-I promise.”

“Thank you… I’ll be .. wai..t ..ing.” Hailey breathes out, before her eyes were shut and her face relaxed.

Bendy bent his head down to her chest to try and hear Hailey’s heart beat. It was faint and slowly fading away.

The sounds of sobbing from the boys echoed against the rocks and interior.

And just like that, the world seemed more dimmed for Bendy.

#h s writes

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maychorian · 7 years ago

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Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #36

Rules: You can find past weekly rec lists here, and non-list recs in my general fic rec tag. Also follow @maychorianrecs for individually tagged posts, the easier to search and reblog. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!

The Hunter from the Hill by valkyriered Words: 5,741 (3/?) Author’s Summary: Post-series, the Holts welcome Shiro into their home. A series of ficlets crossposted from tumblr. Not necessarily in chronological order– posted in the order they were written. My Comments: Warning for heavy angst, depression, PTSD, and various anxiety responses to trauma. This is realistic and very well-written, but mind the tags. I love the idea of the Holts taking in Shiro post-series and caring for him, but everyone is having a very rough time. The fic is technically complete, as each chapter is its own story, but the author is leaving it open to add more in the future. I adore these aftermath stories. Exactly the kind of stuff I want to read.

Space Hell by firesfly Words: 5,008 Author’s Summary: “I wonder if there’s such thing as space-hell,” Lance mused. “Like, the higher you go into space, the closer you are to hell.“ or. The paladins find Space Hell and it’s just as bad as it sounds. My Comments: Really interesting episode-like fic with the paladins fighting a horrible environment, plus some monsters. It’s up to Keith to save them all, and it’s a rough road.

Cookies, candles and some care by SerenePhenix Words: 3,603 Author’s Summary: It had to come full circle. That was the way things worked. That’s what made the world go round. Shiro’s just glad that Lance is there to help. -OR: After Lance it’s now everybody else’s turn to get the sniffles. My Comments: A follow-up to that modern AU sickfic where deathly ill pizza boy Lance stumbles onto the other paladins, who instantly take him under their wing. This time everyone else is sick and Lance is the best nurse ever. So sweet.

Dear Little One by SunshineAndRainbows Words: 3,986 (2/3) Author’s Summary: The paladins hadn’t been expecting to find the baby. Allura hadn’t been expecting their reaction to it. My Comments: The paladins with kids or babies is always adorable, and this one is particularly so. Very interesting worldbuilding here, too, more plot-oriented than most kidfics. I’m interested to see how it will shake out.

Perdu by SerenePhenix Words: 7,130 (1/3) Author’s Summary: He did everything they’d asked of him. He had fought a war that had not been his to begin with because it was the right thing to do, because at the end of it all stood the promise of returning to his family. He was done. He wanted home. What he did not expect was for a man obviously just as lonely as him to join him on the journey. A man willing to listen, willing to understand.So many possible realities and so many ways that it could go wrong. Or maybe just right. My Comments: Really interesting fic with Lance leaving Team Voltron after Shiro’s loss makes them all a little crazy, then running into Lotor and traveling with him without realizing that they’re supposed to be enemies. I’m not sure what’s coming next, and I am both nervous and excited. Really well done and heartachey.

Black by Any Other Color by mckinlily Words: 4,430 Author’s Summary: Team Voltron is in shambles. Lost and hurting in the wake of Shiro’s disappearance, they can hardly stand each other, let alone work together. And in the midst of this, Hunk finds Keith in the Black Lion’s hangar.Hunk learns something about Keith, leadership, and his role as the Yellow Paladin. My Comments: I love Hunk as the heart of the team, chasing down hurting teammates and doing his best to bring them in and show them some love. Keith desperately needs support here. They all do.

Takashi Shirogane Takes the World by EdgarAllenPoet Words: 4,384 (2/?) Author’s Summary: Shiro has seen more foster homes than he has years on Earth, but he’s certain that this one is the last. He’s fiesty, angry, and thinks he can handle anything. That’s until he meets his new foster parents, with their never ending patience and understanding; his foster brother, with his bizarre habits; and the ghost of a boy who lives in his room, who turns into his best friend. He’s not ready for anything, but especially not a new family. My Comments: Family AU in which the Holts take in Shiro and Keith, based The Great Gilly Hopkins. I haven’t seen or read that one, but already this AU is tugging at my heartstrings and making me eager for more. Great stuff, very well-written.

Allura and the Paladins by rebornlover Words: 3,096 Author’s Summary: The Paladins learn abit more about their commander and Hunk holds an Altean celebration My Comments: Really sweet fic with Hunk and Lance making an effort to understand Allura better, and then attempting to ease her and Coran’s grief for the loss of their civilization.

Advanced Maintenance by VelkynKarma Words: 1,392 (1/?) Author’s Summary: Maintaining an alien prosthetic limb can be difficult even with help from your friends. Fortunately, Shiro’s able to get a little extra assistance from a few unexpected places. My Comments: Poor Shiro, but I’m so glad the mice were there to help! Very cute and fluffy fic. And there will be more in the future! I’m looking forward to it.

Recoil/Release by Cheshyr Words: 20,696 Author’s Summary: When Keith is bitten by an alien creature with venom that causes your dominant emotions to be amplified, the team is ready for a day of dealing with an incredibly angry paladin.Which means they’re not ready at all for what actually happens. My Comments: Warning for implications of past child abuse. This is heartbreaking, but so well done. I loved the way everyone got a moment to interact with Keith while he was in a fear-driven state and try to help, even if it wasn’t quite successful in the end. They all just care so much.

Platonic VLD Week 2 - Double Drabble Collection by hufflepirate Words: 1400 Author’s Summary: 7 double drabbles from the second Platonic VLD Week.See chapter titles for basic details like which characters are in/the focus of each one.Prompts: Day 1: Restraint / Impulse Day 2: Traditions / New experiences Day 3: Tandem / Separation Day 4: Home / Exploration Day 5: Temporary / Constant Day 6: Fighting / Forgiveness Day 7: Free tropes day / Week 1 leftovers My Comments: Absolutely every single one of these is perfect in just 200 words. Hufflepirate writes very powerfully in a very small space. I think my favorite was the Coran one, but they’re all amazing.

Seventh Wheeling by Swump (Zelan) Words: 952 Author’s Summary: So I see lots of fics where Lance refers to himself as a seventh wheel and I’m actually getting a bit tired of the phrase. So of course what better to do than write a prompt entirely centered around it. My Comments: Shiro does a really lovely job of reframing this issue for Lance and helping him see himself in a different light. Really sweet.

Accidents Happen by EdgarAllenPoet Words: 2,169 Author’s Summary: “ ‘He’s grown!’ Antok cheered, leaping to his feet as if his previously sore joints had been entirely renewed. He scooped Keith up effortly, one massive hand around his middle, and tossed him up into the air. Keith screamed. Antok laughed with glee. ” My Comments: Keith temporarily morphs to a Galra form, and Antok is DELIGHTED. It’s adorable.

Forgiveness by luoup (ravenic) Words: 1,698 Author’s Summary: Day 6 Prompt 2: ForgivenessHow to be forgiven My Comments: Finding Matt isn’t as happy for Shiro as it should be, because he’s so worried about how Matt will react to what he did. Of course, Matt doesn’t see it that way.

Only Temporary by Revasnaslan Words: 1,241 Author’s Summary: Following Shiro’s disappearance, Allura finds it difficult to sleep… so she and the Black Lion have a chat. About as well as they can without having a bond.—Written for Shallura Week Day 6 (Black / White) My Comments: Lovely bonding moment. Allura deserves all the appreciation.

And The View Will Be Different Tomorrow by this_book_has_been_loved Words: 1,882 Author’s Summary: Pidge had an uncanny ability to find each and every nook and cranny and hiding place on the Castle. There were more secret rooms on this ship than even Allura and Coran probably knew of, and Lance was sure Pidge had discovered them all. - Pidge and Lance have a heart to heart and do some stargazing. My Comments: Absolutely precious. I love these two hanging out and bonding and sharing their grief about their families.

Dogs of Marmora by EdgarAllenPoet Words: 3,517 Author’s Summary: ’What is that thing and why is it in my castle?’ Allura asked. None of the paladins replied. Kolivan offered her a helpless shrug.‘It’s a dog.’ “ My Comments: The cutest, sweetest Dads of Marmora fic yet. The paladins explain to Kolivan why having a dog is a good thing, and then he gets to see it with his own eyes. Adorable.

A Space Birthday! by icycoldmoonprincess for gardenofmaris Words: 2,320 Author’s Summary: It’s just too good that one of my dearest friends and Lance share a birthday month….not to mention how much like Lance she is…..Happy Birthday, Mari! Hope you enjoy the fic :) (Since I gave you a birthday present super early, I just had to do something for today) My Comments: Super cute fic with everyone pitching in to give Lance a nice time. Very pleasant read.

The Peace of Order by Katerie Words: 1,402 Author’s Summary: Lance starts to see why Zarkon’s been allowed to rule for over 10,000 years. My Comments: Lance has an argument with an alien and realizes that some moral quandaries cannot be resolved. Really interesting to read.

Heroism Gets You Killed by teacupfulofbrains Words: 15,428 Author’s Summary: Five times Lance McClain recklessly risked his life to prove his worth to his teammates, and one time they showed him he had nothing to prove. My Comments: Maybe just a little over the top, but man, I really enjoyed this fic. Lance’s team loves him. A lot. It’s his own head that’s preventing him from seeing that. Klance is included, but the focus is on the team.

Accidents Happen by Swump (Zelan) Words: 3,198 Author’s Summary: don’t go on tumblr too much or you’ll write i&i fic for a show you’ve never seen Real Summary: Keith gets something in his eye and then he gets something worse in his eye. Whump ensues. My Comments: Poor Keith, but it was great to see everyone leap into action to help him.

Tasting Science by Anonymous for Longpig Words: 1,470 Author’s Summary: Coran discovers something while preparing a dinner for his new family. My Comments: Really cute fic with Coran enjoying a treat from Earth, then sharing it with everyone else.

trust fall by prophecy Words: 1,574 Author’s Summary: The story of how Allura got her earrings. My Comments: Love litte Allura being stubborn and nosy. Her relationship with Alfor was so lovely, too.

Treat by Eastofthemoon Words: 1,690 Author’s Summary: Keith takes Shiro grocery shopping. My Comments: This is from a really cute AU where pre-teen Keith ends up on the run through the universe with Shiro and the red lion. This installment is adorable, as usual. It’s sad that Keith has had to focus so hard on survival at such a young age, but it’s lovely to see Shiro spoil him.

It’s About You (it always has been) by Yellowtaffeta Words: 11,562 Author’s Summary: For thousands of turns the Prides have defended ARUS from the baleful eye of the dark star. It is now the ninth pass and the lion men have dwindled. Only Pride Garrison is left to face the coming sweep of the rouge planet. Not that anyone thinks the dark star more than a legend after such a long interval. But the Galra are coming. It is up to four newly impressed rookies and a Paladin with the wrong lion to face the coming disaster. Lions must fly when there’s Galra in the sky! My Comments: I’ve never read the series this AU is based on, but now I want to. The author does a good job of giving enough worldbuilding for the story to make sense, even while just throwing us straight into the middle of an extremely crazy and chaotic sceen. All of the paladins and their lions are very intriguing, and their interactions are well done. This feels like the start of a very epic adventure, and I would happily read more. The fic could definitely use a beta, though.

Quit Playing Games by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 3,116 Author’s Summary: Lance makes a deck of Uno cards. It goes as well as expected. For Platonic Week 2.0 My Comments: This is one of the funniest fics I’ve read in the long time. The chaos and petty revenge of a Uno game is out in full force. It’s great to see the kids just having a good time together, for a certain value of good.

The Field of Blood by Genesister (papirini) Words: 4,607 (1/?) Author’s Summary: Takashi Shirogane is about to go on a journey to find himself. A journey where, supported by his friends, he learns a secret so shocking that it could potentially decide the fate of the universe - and, along the way, he comes to understand what it means to be a leader. What it means to be himself. Well. Provided the experience doesn’t kill him first. Or worse. The final part of the Helvicta Blues. My Comments: I’ve already recced the other stories in this series, but I would be remiss not to inform you of this one, too. The start is already so INTENSE, with all of the paladins captured by the Galra, under threat of death and torture, and then that first cliffhangar, hoo boy. I do recommend reading the other stories first, but this is so so good.

Bonding with the Princess by TheForeverGirl Words: 6,201 (3/?) Author’s Summary: Allura feels that she doesn’t know the Paladins as well as she should. Her solution? She bonds with each of the paladins My Comments: This fic could use a beta, but it’s really cute to see Allura deliberately taking the time to get to know her paladins one-on-one. Great characterization and lovely chats for each so far.

Previously Recced Fics That Updated:

Light on the Dark Side of Me (20546 words) The Machinations of Perception (30182 words) mostly void, partially stars (17349 words) Dislocation (19250 words) - now complete familiar (74649 words) As Color Fades Away (69760 words) The Ones Who Were Left Behind (22902 words) Lost Boys (9051 words) Truce (139049 words) Down Time (Don't Let Me Down) (11142 words) When You Reach Me (30133 words) Someplace Like Home (369075 words) - now complete cough syrup (7992 words) The Times They Remembered Pidge Was a Girl (11908 words) earth shaker (3263 words) Ten Days (16478 words)

#voltron legendary defender #weekly voltron fic recs #fic rec #my mondays are going to feel a little empty without somplace like home to look forward to #but the author is doing other stuff in the meantime and there's going to be another sequel #seriously get in on that it is so incredibly good #vldgen

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dynamax-corviknight · 7 years ago

Text

i do not love men; i love what devours them

chapter one is here!! its also on ao3 here

Graves lives alone in a house that is way too large for him. He likes it that way. The strange loneliness of the house on the hill, overlooking the non-descript seaside town he calls his home, is perfect for him after the hustle and bustle of the city. This way, he can spread himself out, let himself go, and live his life unrestrained by the expectations that had been placed on him in New York. He had been a high-ranking police officer before he had taken early retirement, citing stress and (for once), old age. He had found that more often than not, instead of feeling invigorated after cracking a particularly complicated case, he just felt exhausted and particularly old. He couldn't keep up with the chatter in the break-room as easily, and a lot of the things the junior officers did confused him.

Seraphina, bless her soul, had allowed his retirement to go through without any bumps. She could see how the fast-paced lifestyle of New York had worn on her friend and was now beginning to upset him, even if he didn't notice himself until it was too late. He had fallen into a depressive slump, often not remembering or having the energy to shave or shower for days on end. Only when he had felt truly pathetic had he managed to drag himself away from his bed or work and attempt to fix himself up. Seraphina had noticed something was wrong almost instantly, and after observing him for a short while, she confronted him, and breached the idea of early retirement.

He had fought her on it for a long time, but even he could admit, life as an officer no longer held the lustre it did when he was young and fresh out of training. Every day he could feel his bones weighing heavy on him, and it felt a struggle to merely change out of his clothes to sleep. He had thought that, with how much he had filled his life to the brim with work that he would not take to retirement well at all and that he would be back in his office surrounded by paperwork at the end of the month.

Except… it had actually gone well. At first, he felt disturbed at how little he found himself doing at his apartment, and it was then that he realised that he had truly abandoned his hobbies in lieu of using his apartment as an extension for his office. He loosened the leash that he had wrapped tight around himself; he let his beard and hair grow out (his face was marvellously warm of a winter now), and he allowed himself to wear less formal clothing. He swapped his constant 3-piece suits and uniform for oversized sweaters, jeans, and sweatpants.

Still, he hadn’t found himself a fixed hobby. Sure, he had things he enjoyed in passing, like cooking for himself when he needed it, but nothing he truly looked forward to doing. That was until, he received news from the funeral directors that his grandfather (may he rot in hell) had passed away, and as he was the last Graves, had left his property in Bumfuck Nowhere to him. He had checked the portfolio; it was a large, colonial style wooden mansion situated by the cost with its own damn lighthouse.

It was perfect. He had told Seraphina as much and had upped sticks almost immediately.

The house was just so isolated enough that should he want to withdraw completely, he could do so with ease. And yet, it was within walking distance of the nearest town, if it could be called that. It was a complete contrast to New York. The place had approximately 2 shops, a small church and graveyard, a veterinary surgery, and a local market open on Saturdays.

The people had been wary of him to begin with, but they had warmed up quickly. At first, he had been an outlier; a rich man from the big city moving into the large Graves House on the hill which had lay in a state of disrepair for years.

That was something he hadn’t foreseen when he had carried out his move. The place was in shambles; infrastructure falling apart, damp eating away at the walls, and mysterious holes in the ceilings that he was sure he didn’t want to know about. He had ended up staying in the small bed and breakfast the other side of the village for nearly a year while restoration work took place the make the house habitable once more. In that time, he had become much more familiar to the people of the town, he had listened to their stories and had told ones of his own, yet one in particular had caught his attention.

According to Mrs. Goldstein, (the elder; her daughters, Porpentina and Queenie, worked in the markets in the main square), the town was haunted by a creature that lived in the woods towards the north. Apparently, it visited the town in the dead of night to raid the homes of those it thought unworthy of their circumstances in life. Of course, due to this, no one would admit whether their home had been visited, but many reported supposed sightings of the creature. It stood 7 feet tall, with a hunched back and elongated arms tipped with large claws. There were other vague details, but nothing that interested Percival. Except, that is, for one. Out of all of the sightings he had heard of, most of them occurred in the patch of forest nearest to the run-down church.

He had promised Seraphina that he would leave his work behind, but this was too interesting not to chase further. For all the locals knew, it could be some poor, starving animal searching for scraps around the church, with superstitious citizens extrapolating what they had seen into something supernatural. But either way, he wanted to see this through ‘til its end; he couldn’t leave a town of (mostly) innocent people terrified to leave their homes at night.

With that promise in mind, he had left the admittedly amazing care of Mrs. Goldstein for the old house, which was looking marginally better now that all the major damage had been taken care of. However, it still felt… impersonal. It felt as though there was a deep emptiness clinging to the old panelled walls and the moth-eaten curtains. The wind rattled the old window frames, the paint on the outside of the house was peeling with age, and every night the house would groan as the wood and pipes settled. It had taken some getting used to, and he promised himself that as soon as he awoke tomorrow, he would leave town to get some supplies to fix it up as much as he could.

The morning was a long time coming. Percival woke up to pitch darkness, the display of his phone reading out 3:13AM. At first, he wasn’t sure why he had woken up so early; he was a strict man and kept to such a schedule that his body clock woke him up at 5:30AM sharp, no earlier. Then he heard it. A twig snapped, followed by leaves crunching underfoot; something or someone was outside his window. Heavy breathing, laboured and wet. His heart clenched, surging up into his throat. Was he being robbed? He knew how to defend himself, yet the implications of not being safe here set his pulse racing. A shadow crossed his curtains, temporarily blocking the moon’s glow. Then a familiar sound soothed his fears, the tired grumbling of the caretaker he had hired when he arrived. Frank was all together a cantankerous old man, unpleasant to be around, but he got the job done. Nothing to be worried about.

Dread suffused his body, an invisible weight settled on his chest, and his breathing shallowed. No. He was seeing things, surely. There was nothing following Frank, and it certainly wasn’t an inhuman beast. It had a long snout and a lolling tongue, the sound of heavy pants filling the air. Please no. Its jaws snapped open, and a loud howl sounded in the night before a heart wrenching scream, followed by a sick gurgling sound, as if something was choking, and then a decisive crunch. He knew that sound, and he felt bile rising in his throat. He didn’t dare move, the sound of… of something walking over the dry earth outside had set his heart to a rabbit’s pace, his breathing coming fast and shallow. The bathroom was further down the hallway, and he did not want to alert whatever was out there to any activity.

Percival Graves was a rational man, he didn’t let his emotions rule his responses. And yet, in the face of this… thing outside his window, his instincts were shot. He knew Frank was dead, the man barely had time to yell before his life was stolen away from him. He could hear squelching now, the smacking of jaws as they shut around meaty sinew. He could just see it, blood squirting out of the jaws of the beast as Frank’s body was consumed piece by piece outside, sharp teeth tearing into soft fat and limp muscle, the tearing of flesh from bone and wet gurgles as blood vessels burst under the sickening assault, the sound of the beast eating its fill echoing in his ears. He leant over the bed and vomited, drool and bile dripping from his mouth, and the sounds stopped. He could faintly hear chuffing at the window, the beast likely picking up on the acrid scent of bile and his earlier dinner. He could hear it tapping against his window and he froze, his throat tightening around an imaginary lump. The shadow had returned, this time curious and inquisitive. Claws struck against the glass before scratching the surface, the beast tilting its head like a dog looking at its owner.

Ignoring the stench from the floor beside him, Percival kept his eyes wide open and his attention rapt, gaze turned towards whatever was currently eating his caretaker, ready to bolt at any given second, should the beast decide to be more than merely curious. The shadow dipped back out of sight and the squelching returned, and Percival grimaced, his stomach turning in protest. He desperately hoped, as bad as it sounded, that Frank had been enough to slake that thing’s hunger, he very much wished to survive this encounter.

Eventually, the sickening sound of the thing feasting outside fell silent, instead, he could hear scratching at the stone patio, before the beast padded away elusively. Opening eyes he didn’t know he had closed, Percival dared to let himself heave out a breath, and with no further sounds forthcoming, gingerly set his foot down on the old wooden floor. Emboldened by his apparent safety, Percival hesitantly left his bedroom to go to the kitchen to get some cleaning supplies. Still, he did not feel entirely secure, and kept his back to the walls out of sheer paranoia. What if it was still out there? What if it managed to somehow get into his house?

With those thoughts swirling through his head, he broke uncharacteristically into a run, pausing only to grab the supplies, and rushed back to his room, cleaning his earlier discharge before burrowing under the covers of his bed. Despite the horrific images that kept popping back up into the forefront of his mind, sheer exhaustion of being woken in the middle of the night and the crash from the adrenaline draining out of his body, his eyes slipped shut and he fell into an uneasy sleep.

As the sun shone through his curtains, Percival awoke, only for the tang of vomit and bleach to reach his nose and have the memories of earlier rush back to him. Flinging himself out of bed, he rushed down the hallway to the bathroom and promptly threw up into the toilet, the dregs of his previous meals rushing out. He groaned and lay his head on the rim of the toilet. What the ever-loving fuck happened earlier? He dreaded the thought of going outside only to see the mangled remains of Frank in his back garden, his guts strewn in the flowerbeds, bloody paw-prints trailing off into the woods.

No. He shook his head in attempt to clear away those thoughts, flushed the toilet, and stripped down to get into the shower. As he scrubbed his face and chest, he decided that going out to get the paint and other tools to fix up the house could wait for a while. Drying himself off, Percival dressed himself in a large hoodie and a pair of sweats, before shutting himself in the study across the hall to take his mind off the events that has transpired earlier.

#percival graves #credence barebone #gradence #gravebone #original percival graves #southern gothic au #blood tw #gore tw #vomiting tw #my fics #fbawtft #fantastic beasts and where to find them

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