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thecheshireprincess · 4 months ago

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I Promise

A Pre-Borderland One-Shot Set in The Game Itself Universe (AU)

Chishiya x childhood best friend reader (Niragi's sister!) - platonic relationship at this point in time

Content Warning: Mentions of an abusive father, Reader had a tumultuous childhood and is traumatized, atypical/non-nuclear family, maybe a few curse words (you should know that by now if you read my work)

A/N: I've found it a little bit more challenging than I thought I would to write chapters that have Reader's father in them (because of my own bs), so I thought I would break up the pain with a few little fluff bombs like this! As you know, several of these one-shots were already in the works anyway, so if you have an idea or a moment that you'd like to see expanded on in a one-shot like this, please let me know! This promise will come up again in the main story very soon, so it will be fun for you to have some context. Chishiya and Reader are about fourteen or fifteen in this story, making Niragi nineteen or twenty.

Find the main story here.

Monday. Arguably the worst morning of every week. Even the sun seemed to think so today, tucking itself behind the foreboding gray clouds hanging oppressive and angry in the sky over Tokyo. You aren't surprised when they crack open, allowing a slight drizzle of rain to patter against your window as you reach your arms above your head in a silent stretch.

This particular Monday was slated to be even worse than usual, that little fact being the main reason you were delaying the inevitable in getting up. Kaori, your bright-eyed and always impeccably dressed social worker, would be joining you at school today for your annual check-in. Your brother has had full legal custody of you for a year now, and though your visits with Kaori were much fewer than before, this would be an important milestone. Your performance would be everything, the magnitude of this moment weighing on you more heavily than a ton of bricks. Akin to an old rotting building, you could feel yourself crumbling from the inside out under the pressure.

You'd spent the entirety of the past weekend with Niragi breathing down your neck, drilling you with practice questions and reminding you of what behaviors the woman would be scribbling notes on in her leather bound notebook. Of what would be on the line if Kaori didn't think you were "thriving" in his care.

Your anxiety had cast a suffocating blanket of doom across your mind all night, planting sickening thoughts in your head and causing you to toss and turn for hours. Niragi had come in at least twice, straightening the blankets that had fallen to the floor as you squirmed around in the bed, desperately trying to coax you to sleep. Please sleep, Koko. You can't look tired for Kaori, what if she thinks you never get sleep here?

You groan loudly to yourself, knowing that you definitely did look tired. Your burning eyes had finally grown heavy right as the sun was peeking out across the horizon, being afforded just a brief window of slumber before Niragi was gently shaking you awake again. It had felt like you'd rested for mere seconds; you were not prepared at all for what today would bring.

It's been about half an hour since then and you still haven't moved, wanting desperately to take a page out of the sun's book for the entire day. You roll away from your window and the now steady drum of the rain hitting glass, covering your fatigued eyes with the only silky pillow that hasn't escaped the bed and hit the floor. The gloomy weather was just so convincing, today should be a day to stay in bed.

A faint knock on the door downstairs signals that you are running out of time to remain concealed between your tangled sheets; Chishiya is here. It would be only a matter of time before Niragi came up to get you, and you haven't even considered getting dressed. You can hear the man bustling through the lower level of the apartment, the clatter of dishes and occasional click of a drawer closing making it apparent that he's packing lunches and trying to clean up before everyone needs to leave. His movements are more frantic today, allowing the cabinet door to slam shut or setting a silvered utensil down just a little too aggressively - he's on edge too. Not as on edge as he's going to be when he realizes that you haven't even gotten up yet.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Three separate knocks indicate that your best friend is the one standing on the other side of the door. Your time is up.

"Come in," your drowsy voice calls to him, speaking outloud for the first time today. The door creaks open slowly, Chishiya peeking around the door with an arched eyebrow, searching for you around the room. Certainly not expecting to find you still in bed. When his gaze lands on you still ensnared among the lavendar colored sheets, his eyes widen and lips part a little in shock as if silently wondering what the hell are you thinking?

You can sense the weight of his scrutinizing gaze on you, despite having your face still covered with your fluffy pillow. You let out a pathetic whine, "Stop judging me, Shiya. I really can't do this today."

Chishiya pushes the door nearly closed before walking fully into the room and whispering, "Have you lost your mind? You haven't even started getting ready?" The blonde leans casually against the edge of your desk in the corner, crossing his arms over his chest. Analyzing you, always analyzing.

"I'm sick, I can't go to school," you say in a brittle voice, making your friend's lips curl up in a smirk and blink at you in disbelief. "You really think Niragi is going to buy that today? Don't be an idiot," the boy scoffs. Chishiya is, nonetheless, entertained by your pathetic attempt at an excuse. You finally sit up, ready to throw your only remaining pillow at him to disrupt the Cheshire grin that is gracing his annoying face, but are interrupted before you can.

You panic inwardly and shoot an anxious look at your friend as you both register your brother's urgent footsteps rushing up the stairs and stopping outside your door. Chishiya's grin spreads across his face mischievously, knowing that this is about to be quite the show.

"Koko, it's time to go, are you almost ready?" When you don't answer, he pushes the already cracked door open slowly, glancing around anxiously to find you, just as Chishiya had just minutes before. He gasps - obviously stunned - when his eyes meet yours, still sitting with your blankets pooled around your limbs where he'd left you almost forty minutes ago. His jaw clenches in frustration, causing you to instinctively curl in on yourself, making your body smaller. Preparing for him to yell at you the way you know you deserve.

But Niragi has never and would never yell at you. Your brother sees your body's natural response to his irritation and his heart constricts. He refuses to make things worse for you. A deep, exhausted sigh escapes his lips, head slumping forward in concession and shoulders sagging as he comes to sit gently at your side. No matter how annoyed your brother is that you've chosen today to be difficult, he knows that yelling would do nothing but cause a rift in your carefully built relationship. There's a reason you're behaving this way, not generally an openly defiant person, but he has very little time to try to fix it. The man removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "You're still in bed. Why are you still in bed? We really don't have time for this today," he says in an even tone, peering at you expectantly.

You flop back down onto your pillow, allowing your reddened and fatigued eyes to look up at him. "Niragiiiiii," you whine exaggeratedly, "I think I'm sick. It's really bad." Your brother clicks his tongue, deciding it's easiest to play along with your game. "Really?" he questions, affectionate eyes inspecting you as he gently presses his cool hands against your face, "This is a very well-timed illness." You nod almost emphatically, giving him the most pitiful look that you can muster.

Niragi stifles a laugh, eyes shining now in amusement. "Well if it's that serious, I should probably take you to the doctor. They might even need to give you a shot," he muses, hand rubbing his chin in mock consideration. You stiffen a little, you hate needles. You look pleadingly at your brother, don't do this to me.

He sighs again. "You know on any other day I'd gladly let you play sick, but this is too important," Niragi says, brushing some hair out of your face, "You can either tell me what's really going on so I can help you, or we can talk about it later but I really need you to get up and get ready to go. Please?"

You chew the inside of your cheek, weighing your options. You know you can't tell Niragi the truth because it will just make him feel worse. That he's already under enough stress as it is. It's too much pressure. Your hovering has been stressing me out. I don't want to embarrass you. What if she decides to take me away? What if I have to go back to Dad?

No, you choose instead to keep quiet about your fears and finally push yourself up and out of bed. You pad grumpily across the room towards the bathroom, stopping along the way to yank your meticulously ironed uniform off the hanger.

You survey the dark, angry circles under your eyes in the mirror as you restart the French braid in your still partially tangled hair for what must be the third or fourth time. Your hands are shaky and simply won't move the way you need them to in your hair, and you don't have the patience right now to brush it all the way through. You grumble incoherently in exasperation, slamming your brush down on the granite countertop in front of you.

Chishiya pushes off from his observation point leaning on the doorway to approach you cautiously. "Let me help," he offers offhandedly, having learned how to braid your hair from Niragi just a few months earlier. The blonde picks up the brush that had just offended you, gliding it easily through your sleep-tangled locks.

"You're falling apart," he observes pointedly, causing you to chuckle an empty laugh in response. Of course you're falling apart. This process with Kaori is interesting, to say the least. You've never understood why the system wants to analyze every miniscule detail about your home life now that you're safe and happy with your brother, but were fine with looking the other way when you both were drowning in the depths of your father's abuse. A broken system for an even more broken family.

"The pressure is crushing me. I know I can't mess this up for Niragi; he's sacrificed so much for me and my safety. He's given everything to get us to this place," you finally substantiate your fears with words.

Chishiya continues brushing through your hair, paying cautious attention to the tangles. He hums in response as he listens, knowing there's more to it than that. You recognize the game he's playing here, distracting you by brushing your hair and convincing you to spill your guts without him ever saying a word. He was so good at that.

And so you continue, "I'm afraid they'll take me back to him if I'm not meeting their expectations . . ." you sigh shakily, "I'm not exactly healed, you know? It's not Niragi's fault I'm so broken." Chishiya grimaces at this, dexterous fingers working through a particularly difficult knot with surprising gentleness.

"I hardly think it's fair to expect yourself to be healed from a lifetime of suffering in just three years," he mumbles drily, "Be patient with yourself, it will get better in time." You nod slowly, blinking away the tears that had pooled at your waterline. You were still terrified, all the time. Every night you had nightmares that your father would show up again one day, making his cruel threats and trying to hurt you. Trying to hurt Niragi. Would you ever really be free from him?

Chishiya must have noticed how you still hesitated, curling in on yourself slightly again. "You know I won't let anything bad happen to you, right?" He asks, nonchalant as ever. Your eyes snap to study his face in the mirror, surprised a little bit by his question. No, you certainly did not know that.

"What do you mean?" You ask your friend, certain you misheard him. He was hardly the sentimental type of friend. Though you'd known each other your entire lives, most days you just assumed he stuck with you for the convenience of it. That Chishiya would be fine on his own if something ever happened to you. It didn't really bother you, you still cared about him all the same.

The boy shrugs with one shoulder, starting to move his nimble fingers through your strands as he's finally satisfied that he's gotten all of the tangles out. "I just mean that you don't need to be as afraid when I'm around. I have your back," he says.

You blink once, twice. In shock, because Chishiya rarely talks period, but to make a statement that is intended to comfort you is completely out of his character. And it made your heart soar. "Thank you," you whisper, sincerely. Feeling tears spring up again, but holding it in. The corners of his lips tilt upward slightly, meeting your eyes in the mirror and nodding. A true best friend moment.

Chishiya ties off the braid with an elastic and clips in the emerald velvet bow that matches your school uniform, before moving his hands to squeeze your shoulders lightly once. You got this.

Niragi calls your name from downstairs as you're finishing dotting concealer underneath your eyes, "So help me, Koko! We have to leave, now!" You know he is pacing at the bottom of the stairs, likely wearing a hole in the wood paneled floor. He always does that when he's nervous.

You take one last deep breath in front of the mirror, trying to summon some confidence. Chishiya told you not to worry, that he would keep you safe no matter what. And you really believed him.

You bound down the carpeted stairs, coming face to face and nearly colliding with your grumbling and semi-panicked brother at the bottom. He sighs in short-lived relief, pausing for a moment to brush a wrinkle out of your shirt and hand you your backpack. Niragi scoops up his car keys from the hall table, ushering the three of you out the door to get the day started at long last.

Himari, your next door neighbor, is in the hallway watering the brightly colored begonias she keeps potted outside her door. A radiant smile graces her face upon seeing the three of you, "Good morning! Niragi, when are you going to bring that girl over to have tea and play with the cats?" Niragi smiles lightly as he locks the door to your apartment, "She can come over whenever she wants, except today; unfortunately we're really in a rush this morning." You wave at the older lady, seeing her always brings a smile to your face. You would have to drag Chishiya over there later, Himari always kept his favorite biscuits around. Plus, if you were lucky, you'd be able to find and snuggle with the tabby cat.

The entire ride to school, Niragi peppers you with reminders about how to act and what to say. How to answer the "difficult questions". The interaction does nothing to quell your nerves, honestly making things worse if anything. Chishiya sits quietly in the backseat, watching the Tokyo skyline zoom by while you talk. Your anxious gaze catches his in the rearview mirror and he gives you a tight but reassuring smile. You got this.

You hesitantly wave goodbye to Niragi when he pulls up outside the looming building that was your school, receiving his last minute instructions and assurances before he speeds off. He is definitely late for work now, but you know that is the least of his concerns this morning.

The two of you walk the brightly lit corridor to your classroom, shoes clicking along the freshly waxed tiled floor. Chishiya walks with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, you nervously fidgeting with your earrings. Just as you approach your homeroom where you knew Kaori was waiting to begin her observation, you grip desperately onto your friend's elbow to pull him back.

"Chishiya, I can't do this," you panic, swirling emotions threatening to drown you right here in the hallway, "Let's leave." The blonde that usually flinches away from any contact shocks you again by pulling both of your hands into his own, trying to keep you from fully panicking.

"Look at me," he demands, a confusing mix of emotions on display on his usually blank face, "It might not be easy, but you can do this. You're going to do this. And regardless of what happens in there today or anywhere else any other time, I will keep you safe." Your breath catches in your throat at the sheer weight of his words.

"You really mean that, Chishiya?" you ask, voice wavering just a little bit. He nods, eyes still meeting yours, soft and tender instead of cold and calculating.

"I promise."

That's good enough for you to take the final steps to the classroom, twisting the brass doorknob to open the door and greet Kaori and your teacher.

You're confident now that no matter what life throws at you, you'll always have your best friend on your side to keep you safe.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

The Game Itself Masterlist

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It's also totally fine if you aren't interested in the universe building one-shots! Anyway, ily guys endlessly 💕✨️

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miniaturesuitgladiator · 10 months ago

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Hi 👋 I'm knew to posting stories so please don't be rude , I understand that this isn't what some people like ,but there's no need to be rude. I appreciate everyone who read my first post and I am very grateful for them. Please leave tips on how I can improve. Thank you for your time and enjoy!!

Note: this is the first chapter of that little drabble I did. This chapter doesn't include damian or the batfamily. Next chapter it will. I just wanted yall to see readers family dynamics ,and I didn't want to make the chapter so long. Oh ,and N/N= nickname.

WARNINGS: None really no one is yandere ,yet.

-💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗-

It was snowing. Which should be no surprise to you ,atleast not at this time of year. It always snowed in October ,always. As always the snow was beautiful and quite peaceful as well. Watching the perfectly white snow fall onto the dead leaves on your yard was quite peaceful.

Comfortably sat on your living room couch waiting for your dad to get ready for church. You quietly watched TV. You had already been ready for about half an hour. Decided in it was best to get ready earlier than later. Just like your mother had always told you. Your mother always rather be early to an event rather than on time ,and usually she was on early. But then came your father. Now Your father was the complete opposite of your mother. I suppose that's what evens them out.. See your father always seemed to have a problem with keeping up with the time. So more often than not you'd be late because of your father.

You didn't mind though, atleast not as much as your mother did. You found it funny how your tall and fierce father. Sherrif of the small town you live in. Looked like a kicked puppy as your mother scolded him.

you silently watched as your father practically ran through the house looking for his church clothes. You smile as you see your mother walk towards you. She smiles back at you and kisses you on the top of your head. "You ready for church , baby " she says walking to kitchen. "Yes ma'am " you say turning your attention back on the TV. "Good" your mother says packing the food she plans to bring to church. You sigh in frustration. There's never anything to watch on Sunday. So you resort to the only channel that might be interesting. The news.

Your eyes open in excitement when you see the headline for today. BATMAN SAVES GOTHAM FROM A NUCLEAR BOMB! You always liked batman. You thought he did good. Sure he made some mistakes ,but he was only human. After all he had saved Gotham , like a thousand times. So he had to be good.

"Baby turn that off. I don't want you seeing that kind of stuff." Your mom says from behind the kitchen counter. "C'mon mom it's batman. He's a hero." You say trying to persuad her. Nothing big like that ever happened in your small town. Sure you were gratefull that your town wasn't always being attacked ,but nothing even slightly exciting happens in your town. So you live off the gossip of gotham.

"The only hero you need is Jesus. So turn. It. Off. I'm not telling you agian, baby." Your mother says gently smiling at you ,but you know better than to push her buttons. So with a dramatic sigh you turn off the TV.

"Thank you. Now go check on your brother for me." She says pointing towards your brothers room. " whatever" you say quietly ,scared of what she would say if she heard. Because in her eyes that's 'disrespectful'.

"Riley are you ready?" you say knocking on your brothers bedroom door. No reply . So you knock agian. No reply. "I'm coming in."You say and your shocked about what you see when you open the door. Riley your 7 year old little brother is sleeping peaceful in his bed. quickly you rush over to his bed. "Riley wake up ,mamas gonna kill you." You say as you shake him. Slowly he opens his eyes. "What's wrong N/N." He says and you almost feel bad for how concerned he looks ,but then you remember.. He's the one that decided to play Mario Cart all night.

" It's Sunday riley" you say. You watch as realization hits him straight in the face. Quicker than you can imagine he's up and running around in his room. "Oh no , does mama know I slept in." He says grabbing him a towel to take a shower. "No , she thinks your ready." You say but surely he didn't hear you by how quickly he rushed to take a shower.

Being the kind sister you are you grab him some cloths and leave them on the bed.

Deciding that it's definitely best not to go back to the living room. Since your mother would probably ask about riley. So instead you go to your room.

walking in your room you stand in front of the mirror your grandpa had made for you. Looking in the mirror you definitely thought this was one of the best outfits you had worn to church. Not the most expensive though ,since most of your clothing was thrifted. Nevertheless you did love your outfit today.

"I'm ready." You hear you father yell. "Well it's about time." You hear your mother reply. You smile to yourself as you walk towards the front door. You know your mother and father love eachother, but to someone that doesn't know them would probably think their about to sign divorce papers any minute. "You look beautiful ,princess."your father says with a light kiss to the top of you head.

"Riley!" Your mother yells ,since she didn't see your brother by the door. "Coming." He shouts back. Hurriedly your brother practically runs down the stairs. " how do I look." Riley questions and you don't even have to say what's on your mind. Because your father beats you to it.

"Like a mess." Your father says. Which earns him a punch on the arm by your mother. "Nonsense , you look handsome baby." You mother says as she gives him a kiss on the head ,and pats his hair so it doesn't look like a literal mess. "Thanks mama." Your brother says with a smile. "Well we better get going or we're going to be late." Your mother says. As she practically pushes everyone out the door. "Darling, it's only 7:10 by the time we get there we're going to be 40 minutes early." You father says with a sigh. Unlocking his truck.

"Which is practically late." Your mother says hopping into your father's Ford. To which your father just shakes his head with a smile.

The drive to the church wasn't long ,but you wish it was. So maybe you could get to watch it snow for a little longer. Snow was beautiful. Snow seemed to cleanse everything and turn it white agian. Which if you said that to your mother she'd probably say Jesus does the same thing...

Looking over to where your brothers sitting. You can see he's passed out. His head is resting on the window and he's drooling a bit. He looks kinda cute ,but that's only cause he's asleep and not cuase trouble. An you know it.

'Today is gonna be a good day.' You say to yourself ,and Who wouldn't think that it's Sunday. Every Sundays a good day because we get to go to church ,and see family. Maybe it was a bit naive to think that just because it was Sunday it was going to be a good day ,but that's how you were raised.

Ten years from now you'll look back and wish that for once. Just once in your 16 years of having lived your family would have missed church this sunday...

-💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗-

THANKS FOR READING!!!!

#damian wayne x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere damian x reader #Yandere batfam x reader #Yandere damian wayne x fem reader #Damian wayne x fem reader

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thevoidtrainstation · 10 months ago

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An Alert

info: this takes place during the VDC, and it's first person.

Also, please tell me if I didn't tag this properly.

Warnings: angst, with a pinch of comfort

word count: 700

Watching them perform from backstage was simultaneously enjoyable yet lonely. Looking between my friends and the crowd singing a lullaby (double check that) so well known it transcends countries, cultures, and languages, no matter how reminiscent or similar it is to songs I know, I just don’t know it. How can a song transcend planets, realities, and dimensions; it can’t. I’m the only one who doesn’t know it, not including the dire beast known as Grim, the only one who’s as clueless about this world as I am, even though he’s from it. Truly, moments such as these make me realize how much of an alien I am. I’m the sole magicless student in a magic school. I was just about to start college because I graduated early from high school, and now here I am a high school freshman again, in a completely different reality, dimension. This whole thing has been a double-edged sword: being transported to a magical reality is any fantasy reader’s dream come true, but all the unknowns about what’s happening at home and the moments of realization about the massive cultural divides between me and everyone else is unpleasant, to say the least. However, seeing the joy on their faces right now, especially after everything that happened today, makes me treasure these moments and my new friends. My new friends are doing so much to make me feel a part of this place, showing me the “most important” movies, TV shows, and music to catch up on pop culture. Though I feel hollow at times due to the differences between this world and my own, they always manage to fill in that hole a bit. As I focus my mind back on their performance, my breath catches and my body freezes. The unmistakable sound of an emergency alert rings from MY PHONE. My phone, the one that I had on me when I arrived here, the very one that nothing worked on, but what was already downloaded onto it. With shaking hands I pull out my phone, with much trepidation. Why was it working now? Was it able to connect back to my world, or is it connecting to something here? What’s the alert? If I wasn’t already sitting, I would’ve fallen onto the floor. “Emergency Alert: incoming atomic bomb, please go to nearest shelter….” In this world of magic, nuclear power and warfare don’t exist: I checked. Trembling, and with deep breaths, I manage to unlock my phone, my eyes darting between the red dots on my messenger, the voicemail, and the news app, all of which hadn’t had that little red dot since I came here. I go to my family group chat and text “Im safe and healthy calling mom.” As the phone rings, I bolt to one of the backrooms in the stadium, locking the door behind me. The next couple of minutes blur together as I Facetime my mom, who’s with the rest of my family, explaining what happened to me and asking what's happening there. Raspy broken voices and tears aren’t acknowledged as we catch up and exchange “I love you’s”. The call disconnects, I call again, and again no answer. I call my other family, but the calls aren’t going through. I call my friends, but the calls aren’t going through still. I try every messenger app on my phone. Nothing. There’s nothing. No connection, no way to reach them, no way to reach anyone. It was how it was when I got here. The only thing that remains on my phone is what was already downloaded onto it. I let out a soul-shivering wail. I drop my phone and curl up onto the couch clenching my knees to my chest and burying in my head as I sob. The nuclear apocalypse happened, and I missed it… The doorknob jiggles. The door temples as it’s banged on, and rammed against. The nuclear apocalypse happened, There’s no home to go back to... The door flies off its hinges. I continue to mourn the death of my planet, my home, my life, my family as I feel arms wrap around me.

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst mc #angst fic #dinsey twisted wonderland #fanfic #oc #twisted wonderland x reader

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floralcyanide · 2 years ago

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𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 - 𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧!𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫

cillian murphy!oppenheimer x reader

DISCLAIMER: this is fanfiction. it isn’t real. Oppenheimer is a real person, however Cillian!Oppenheimer is not. he is a character. if you have something bad to say just keep it in the drafts (:

“let's all go play Nagasaki, we can all get vaporized. hold my hand, let's turn to ash. I'll see you on the other side.” - 137 by Brand New

warnings: spoilers for Oppenheimer, descriptions of nuclear bomb/ explosion, fear

word count: 1316

author's note: I love Cillian so much, and he did so good in Oppy!! I just had to write about it. please keep in mind there are spoilers in this, don't read if you haven't seen the movie. also, there's only like, one other fic on here for Cillian!Oppy which is sad but I'm sure there'll be more soon. (:

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

For the last few nights, Robert has woken up abruptly from his sleep. He’ll sit upright and pant, trying his best to catch his breath. It alarms you every time he does this despite him acting like it didn’t happen. But you know he doesn’t go back to sleep after because you feel him toss and turn until morning. Test day is tomorrow, and you can feel Robert’s nervous energy radiating off him. This was it- this was the epitome of his life’s work, and if it failed, he would be lost. And you’re torn between wanting it not to work for humanity’s sake and wanting it to work for Robert’s.

You have worked alongside your husband for many years despite the pushback from society. But he knows your intelligence and insisted you be involved in the Project. He refused to have anything to do with it unless you assisted him. Lieutenant Groves reluctantly agreed, but he still knew just how capable you were to help with the Project.

You’re very much a housewife outside of work, though. Despite being a knowledgeable person, you still have duties at home. You’re busy folding laundry when Robert exits the bedroom after getting ready for a meeting. It was the last one before tomorrow’s events. Robert doesn’t say much to you before bidding his farewell and heading out. It wasn’t abnormal for him to mumble a goodbye before putting his hat on and leaving without anything else said. He was reserved unless it was necessary to say something. That’s one thing you admired about Robert; he could be cynical and sarcastic yet humble and a man of few words.

You would attend a later meeting that evening, so it’s possible you may not see Robert until bedtime. You aren’t worried about him not kissing your son goodnight or missing dinner. You mostly worry he won’t sleep enough.

Later in bed, you and Robert both lay on your backs, staring at the ceiling wordlessly.

“How are you feeling?” you suddenly ask, breaking the eerie silence.

Robert opens his mouth before shutting it again, shrugging.

You sigh, turning on your side to face him, “I can feel you have nightmares, you know.”

Robert cuts his eyes toward you before giving in and rolling over to face you as well, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you furrow your brow, “There’s nothing to be sorry for. What we’re- what you’re doing is incredibly stressful and world-changing. It’s normal to be anxious over it.”

“That’s exactly why I’m anxious.”

“Which part?”

“The world-changing part.”

You’re quiet for a moment before answering, “What do you dream about?”

Robert’s eyes study yours closely, searching for any instance of potential recoil from what he’s about to tell you. He searches even though he knows he won’t find it because Robert knows that you’d never leave him no matter what. Even if his nightmares were incomparable to even the most descriptive horror stories. What’s worse is that Robert knows no one has ever seen the results of a bomb the magnitude of the one he’s created. So it’s up to his imagination. And his imagination is one of grotesque imagery that he hopes won’t come to fruition.

“Death,” Robert says plainly, with a cold look, “Destruction. Everything in my dreams is obliterated by fire and disintegrates into ash, and even the ash turns into nothingness.”

You purse your lips, gently reaching your hand up to touch Robert’s cheek, running your thumb over his cheekbone.

“I don’t fear for me or for us. I fear for our children,” Robert gives a watery laugh, “And the world they’ll have to grow up in knowing that such weaponry exists.”

You tuck Robert’s head into your chest, “You are merely the creator, darling. You have no control over how they use your creation. And I know that worries you, but you cannot do much about it.”

“I know. You’re right. But the fact I’m the one responsible for such a destructive device,” Robert trails off.

“Your creation is for science exploration and nothing more,” you say, “Remember that tomorrow.”

When you awake at two in the morning to prepare for the test, Robert has already gotten up from bed. You figure he didn’t sleep and has already made his way down the street to prepare. You hurriedly get dressed, grab your son, and walk out the front door. You let your neighbor, one of the wives of another scientist, watch over your son while you and Robert are away. A vehicle has been sent to your home, probably by Robert, to retrieve you. The ride is quiet and bumpy. You figure they would take you to the main hall, but they keep driving into the desert. Everyone must already be at Trinity.

Trinity is alight, with people who worked on the project scurrying around to find the perfect spot to watch the explosion. You climb off the vehicle and run to the tent where Robert resides with the others. A relieved smile grows on his face when he sees you walk in.

“I didn’t want to see this without you,” he says, pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Did you sleep at all?” you mutter into his shoulder.

“Unfortunately, no. But sleep can come later,” Robert says, returning to the detonation station.

You cross your arms and walk around aimlessly, watching the scientists scramble to take their places and put sun shades on.

“Ninety minutes,” Robert says from behind you.

You turn around to look at him, a half smile growing on your face, “I’m proud of you.”

“And I’m proud of you, too. Without your suggestions, we may not be here,” Robert plays with a loose strand of your hair.

“I doubt that,” you chuckle, “Your brainpower alone has done the job.”

“I’ll see you on the other side,” Robert says.

After a little under an hour and a half of checking that everything was perfect and prepared, everyone took their places where they wanted to view the test. You’re next to Robert, with goggles on your face that match his. Both of you have ports to get a fantastic view. The countdown begins.

Everyone becomes dead silent as the bomb is detonated. The flash causes you to gasp, your eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness despite the goggles. When the light subsides, you see a mushroom cloud of nothing but fire beginning to rise to the atmosphere. Beside you, Robert grabs hold of your hand and grasps it tightly.

“Now I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds,” Robert says with a haunting tone.

You remove your goggles along with everyone else as you squint against the harsh brightness. Before you is the most terrifying, breathtaking thing you’ve ever seen. A firestorm that is capable of mass destruction. A scientific miracle. But before anyone can relax, the sound of air rumbling and rushing toward the tent is heard. The sound of the explosion hits the viewing base violently. The blast wave smacks everyone as they brace themselves against the high wind. Once the hot gust of air subsides and the explosion tapers down, everyone begins to cheer and clap.

“We did it,” Robert says in disbelief before he looks up at you, “We actually did it.”

You nod, smiling at him proudly before engulfing him in a hug.

“I have destroyed the world,” Robert whispers in your ear, and you pull away to see an odd flash of emotion cross his face.

“You haven’t,” you whisper back, as people begin to approach your husband, “But you’ve changed it forever.”

As colleagues surround Robert and move him outside, you remain in the tent for a moment. You replay the mushroom-looking explosion in your head. You begin to ponder what the Manhattan Project’s creation will do for the world. And whether it’s good or bad.

Either way, everyone has been forever changed.

#cillian murphy #j robert oppenheimer #oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer x reader #j robert oppenheimer x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #oppenheimer fanfiction #oppenheimer fic #oppenheimer fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #spoilers #oppenheimer spoilers #oppenheimer 2023 #floralcyanide writes

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girlactionfigure · 8 months ago

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⚫ROCKET STRIKES & INJURIES, INTERNAL ENEMY - Real time from Israel

ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

( VIDEO - Rocket hit in Kiryat Ata. Not gory. )

▪️GAZA - In the shadow of American pressure - the IDF announced the expansion of the humanitarian zone in the Gaza Strip.

▪️INTERNAL ENEMY.. MK Ofer Kasif of Hadash-Ta’al will be removed from the Knesset until spring 2025 and will be denied two weeks' salary, this following his joining the proceedings against Israel in The Hague and accusing the IDF of the massacre. This is the heaviest punishment in the history of the Ethics Committee.

▪️COURT - NEED NIS 1 MILLION TO REPRESENT NUCHBA TERRORISTS.. Court management to the Ministry of Finance: Please transfer one million shekels to us for the representation of the Nuh'ba terrorists, those who perpetrated the Oct. 7 massacre. ( There is an argument to be made that unlawful combatants are not due legal representation. )

▪️(COMMENTARY - Douglas Murray) I hope that everyone commenting on the Jew-hunt in Amsterdam keeps in mind that this is ‘Islamophobia Awareness Month.’

▪️ARGUMENTS OVER GUN LICENSES.. The “Movement for Quality Govt” has petitioned the High Court against the Min. Of National Security providing gun licenses, after it was discovered some illegally providing licenses. Movement: ‘requests to open a criminal investigation against Minister Ben Gvir and Speaker of the Knesset Amir Ohana’. Judge: ‘the court will decide whether to let the state consider freezing weapons licenses.’ (Assumably the process, since there was criminal abuse?)

▪️ZAKA STATION.. in Holon seriously vandalized and damaged. This is the body recovery organization.

⭕ROCKET STRIKE in BAANA from Hezbollah. 40-year-old woman was seriously injured by shrapnel in a ROCKET barrage of about 50 rockets to the Karmiel and Sakhnin area BY HEZBOLLAH.

⭕ROCKET STRIKE in KIRYAT ATA from Hezbollah. Parked vehicle hit. Reports of injuries.

⭕ROCKET STRIKE in NAHARIYA from Hezbollah. 3 wounded by shrapnel: a 27-year-old woman in moderate condition, a man about 35 years old and a one-year-old toddler in mild condition.

⭕ROCKET STRIKE in HAIFA and KRAYOT from Hezbollah. 4 injured by shrapnel, 1 on falling running for shelter. BARRAGE OF 90 ROCKETS estimated.

⭕The Iranian Revolutionary Guards claim to have hacked the Sorek Nuclear Research Center and allegedly downloaded 197 gigabytes of data, including personal data of nuclear scientists in Israel and officials in the Ministry of Defense.

♦️SYRIA - Arab report: a significant attack on a number of trucks in the Homs region of Syria. Casualties.

.. Syrian source: More than 30 IDF attacks on the border crossings between Syria and Lebanon completely disrupted the flow of fuel, logistical equipment, and military equipment to Hezbollah.

♦️JUDEA-SAMARIA - arrests in multiple villages, capture of bomb making materials, capture of small quantity of weapons, military equipment and a drone.

♦️LEBANON - IDF spokesman in Arabic publishes an evacuation notice and warning for 21 villages in southern Lebanon.

🔸CEASEFIRE NEWS.. Foreign Minister Gideon Sa'ar in a briefing for the foreign media: progress has been made in the negotiations for a ceasefire in Lebanon. Hezbollah: Not that we are aware of. Lebanese parliament speaker: no change in our demands.

🔸DEAL NEWS.. The Lebanese newspaper "Al-Akhbar" reports this morning that Egypt and Qatar have agreed to threaten Hamas with removal from Doha. According to the report, the goal is to promote a Palestinian internal settlement.

#Israel #October 7 #HamasMassacre #Israel/HamasWar #IDF #Gaza #Palestinians #Realtime Israel #Hezbollah #Lebanon #🎗️

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readychilledwine · 1 year ago

Note

as new parents, what are your and baby daddy's feelings on Rhys yelling at Nesta in HOFAS?

Oop... spoilers in the response.

Warning - mention of traumatic labor and birth

As a reminder, I am almost 8 weeks postpartum from a traumatic labor that without modern medicine would have left my daughter and potentially me dead. Please keep that in mind when you get to baby daddy's feelings. I think he understands Rhysand on a pretty deep level with this.

I feel Rhysand's emotions are understandable and justified. He is a new father just starting to get the grip on this new lifestyle and duty, and his trauma from watching Feyre die while he felt powerless to help her is still fresh. His anger is valid, and I think people forget that anger is a complex emotion. Underlying in anger is hurt. Rhysand, I believe, was hurt by Nesta's choice to give the mask to Bryce, and when you think about everything Bryce did there, it's understandable.

Bryce led a wyrm to Azriel and Nesta and left them there to fight it. Bryce continuously ignoring Azriel pleading for the safety of his family and their world. Bryce got upset with Nesta and Azriel, mainly Nesta, for killing the asteri. Bryce then stole something precious to Azriel and left them in those caves.

Rhysand has no reason to trust Bryce with something as powerful as the mask, and in all honesty, Nesta didn't either. She based her decision on vibes. Rhys based his feelings on logic.

I am not okay with Rhysand's actions in his response, though. I was hopefully we would see an improved relationship between him and Nesta, and I know we can't base if they've started to get along better off one bad moment, but it shows he still does not respect her as a person. A calm response, asking her blunty wtf, and listening to her would have been ideal.

Baby daddy says he thinks the whole situation is justified. He says he would have responded the same way initially and apologized later. Which we do not know if Rhys did apologize. Baby daddy loves Nesta, he gets why she did it, but he stands by Rhys in this.

He also wants to know why more of us aren't focusing on Cassian's response to this. He feels that's more upsetting than Rhys. He feels Cassian as Nesta's mate should have stepped in at the very least and told Rhys to calm down. He understands Cassian may have agreed with Rhys, too, but Cassian should not have allowed Rhys to speak to Nesta like that.

Overall, we get it. If one of our friends handed over our world's equivalent to a nuclear bomb and put it in the hands of someone who has not given anyone a reason to trust them, we'd be upset to. We'd both just handle it differently.

#send asks #send anons #elizabeths.updates

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breakerwhiskey · 2 years ago

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050 - FIFTY

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static] (siren sounds) [click, static] Can you hear that? (siren sounds) [click, static] There’s um—there’s a tornado. There’s a goddamn tornado. [click, static]

When it first sounded, I thought it was an attack siren, like the ones they used to play for school drills. When we’d have to hide under our desks and clutch onto the table legs like that would save us from a nuclear bomb.

[click, static]

I don’t know who they thought they were fooling.

[click, static]

I can’t believe I’m in actual fucking Kansas and there’s a tornado. It feels too cliche to be real, somehow.

[click, static]

Everything I know about tornadoes, I know from The Wizard of Oz. (chuckles) That’s really not fucking helpful at the moment, is it? I don’t have Toto or ruby slippers or a basement to hide in.

I can’t remember anything about what you’re supposed to do in a tornado other than going into a basement. But the siren started going when I was on the road and like I said I thought I was—I thought we were, you know, under attack because its the same goddamn noise, um, but then I—I saw in the distance—and you know, there’s nothing around me. I pulled over obviously but I don’t know if I should be driving away or if I should be looking for a bridge or an overpass...I think there’s something about bridges. They’re either the worst place to be or the best place to be.

[click, static] Really fucking helpful, I know. [click, static]

I’ve already gone on a journey to a strange land, you know? That’s what the world feels like—like waking up in technicolor after being in black and white but...um, the reverse I guess. If I get caught up in the tornado, do you think I’ll go back? To the way that things were?

[click, static]

Back? I don’t know what I’m saying. Back where? I didn’t travel anywhere, there’s nothing to go back to unless I can figure out a way to invent time travel and stop whatever it was that happened.

[click, static]

I keep thinking about hell. In the sense of...is this hell? Sometimes I get that feeling of unreality, the strange sensation that I’m somehow outside of myself, looking at myself from just off to the side. It’s gotten worse since I left Pennsylvania. Maybe I really should look in the mirror more often. I barely even use the car mirrors, it’s not like there’s other drivers to be aware of, and maybe that’s the problem, there’s so little to be aware of around me that I feel hyper aware of me.

[click, static]

But what if we died? What if we died when we were trying to get away and all of this has been a kind of purgatory, a terrible punishing afterlife from a god with a twisted sense of humor?

[click, static]

Never mind, I’m just wigged out. The sound of the sirens is, um...it’s spooky, you know? Eerie. I guess that makes it a good warning system for tornadoes and potential nuclear threat because there’s something in the sound that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

[click, static]

It’s rattling me, somewhere deep down, in some hind brain that triggers my fight or flight. The tornado is still really far away and...

[click, static]

I thought—I thought I saw a tornado, but I can’t—I can’t see it anymore, but, who knows, maybe the emergency system is just malfunctioning but the sky looks so terribly gray, a kind of gray that’s got a little bit of green to it, like the atmosphere itself is feeling sick.

[click, static] I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. [click, static]

#breaker whiskey #audio drama #episode #transcript #Spotify

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ithisatanytime · 1 year ago

Video

youtube

Silver Fins - Waiting So Long [Berserk Animation]

i know im constantly repeating myself, even this post ive made some variation of numerous times, but review is important and necessary, no sooner do i get lax in telling people what i know than do they start undoing the hard work ive done brick by brick with lies, every day relentlessly. heres the three layers of understanding the world, starting from the most surface level and least harmful towards their aims, to the most obscured and the most harmful to their aims.

level one: jews might be up to no good

level two: the holocaust was a complete lie

level three final level: the so called jews are not the hebrews of the old testament, they are not of abraham or of adam, and this deception of theres was EXPLICITLY called out numorous times by christ himself in plain language, and repeated by his apostles in the new testament, this warning against these people, a warning that they were not who they say they are.

when i was on level one, and i was just starting to think maybe there is something to this whole JQ thing, the holocaust did not interest me much, its in the past, it didnt seem relevant to what needed to be done, but i had but to watch as they scurried and writhed and gnashed their teeth in defense of this holocaust whenever it was challenged, and then i began to understand the practicality of the holocaust myth what all it was useful for against us. and when i accepted the holocaust was a myth, then i started thinking about christian identity of passages id read in the bible etc, and again i saw how constantly they labored to maintain this lie, like sailors bailing water from a sinking ship and again slowly i realized the practicality of this ancient and abominable lie. all that to say, it might not seem like it matters to you right now but i assure you its what matters most.

lets see what else... nukes are unironically fake, theres no such thing as nuclear bombs im late as fuck to the party on that one but i just hadnt thought about nukes in like fifteen years, which is telling because i was terrified of nuclear war as an adolescent, but as i grew up i literally couldnt give a shit (because my mature mind subconsciously didnt believe it was an actual threat perhaps) but hiroshima and nagasaki were firebombed by napalm just like tokyo and dresden, the A bomb is a propaganda bomb, is a psychological weapon that does not exist. isnt it funny how nuclear war was sure to lead to nuclear winter and thousands of years of FALLOUT you know the world depicted in that multi billion dollar video game franchise? yeah now they are saying that wouldnt happen, and the same thing for nuclear winter, and do you know why they are saying that? because we dropped hundreds of fucking a bombs in the desert, which is like smoking in the smoking section of a restaurant in terms of how they had described the behavior of nuclear fallout not to mention nuclear winter. and also there is the disconcerting fact that literally within a week of getting nuked the japanese were already back in nagasaki and hiroshima at ground zero rebuilding and cleaning up and its still flourishing to this day with NO discernable differences in cancer levels depending on the study (literally no alterior motive for doing a study on cancer in hiroshima and nagasaki and finding none or negligable increase in cancer rate, but perhaps there would be for the contradictory findings) think about those shadows supposedly burned into the concrete, shadows of old japanese men carrying canes etched forever into the sides of buildings or steps just the shadow, forever marking where they stood as THE BOMB dropped. its a striking image (go ahead look the images up, please i beg you!) and nothing more, just think about it for a while i read the explanation that it was the material around the various victims silhouette burnt around him but its fucking cartoon bullshit, just like hitler, and the holocaust. there was a ten to twenty year period where they started telling BIG LIES in america, all around the same time, suddenly we have magic doomsday weapons, hitler has magic crematoriums, and we landed on the moon (ill get into that later, late to the party again) it reminds me of gaytheists when they remark that its convenient all these biblical miracles happened before their were phones and cameras to document it, i wont get into why thats wrong right now, but i feel much the same way about the 1940′s to sixties where all of these impossible things started happening and then seemingly never again. the whole world agreed to stop testing nuclear arms in the late sixties, WOW, cant believe the whole world agreed on anything, especially not testing a powerful weapon! and we at around the same time decided to stop going to the moon, i mean we still want the trillion dollar annual budget but americans are bored with the moon, they want nothing instead (this is the official stated reason for not going to the moon im not fucking with you) i have a more elegant explanation why the whole world stopped nuclear testing at least above ground filmed testing and why we stopped going to the moon at the same time, because in the late sixties with scifi really taking off, americans were becoming savvy! thats it, they were becoming media savvy, they were more accustomed to special effects and it took more to wow them. all the nuke test footage is out in the desert where there is conveniently little or NO frame of reference for the real size of the blast, could be HUGE and really far away or just BIG and not that far away theres no way to tell even if you are there observing it. and on the rare occasion there is something for scale like the boat in the castle bravo footage, it STRONGLY resembles the way hollywood would frame a shot for a forced perspective angle using a miniature. but most of all, watch all the test footage for yourself, but watch it with the audio off because the music will trick you, does it not look like not just special effects, but SPECIFICALLY sixties era special effects from b movies? and the moon landing too. you will NEVER see that shit in HD. isnt it bizarre that modern hollywood which is turning out nothing but super hero movies and reboots because they are the safe bet when only the lowest common denominator movies will make money, lets spend millions on a fucking historical BIOPIC about oppenheimer and promote it as a fucking summer blockbuster! the kids will love it were gonna be rich! lmfao what happened how did the american movie goer suddenly get so cultured? or the studios so brazen? they cant do the tests anymore because they wont be convincing to modern audiences, oppenheimer was made and promoted to keep the bomb fresh in your mind because thats the only power it has, the power to frighten, and thats why children were drilled to hide under their desks even though NO ONE had any idea what good it was meant to do in the event of a nuclear war, but it wasnt meant to do any good it was meant to scare the shit out of children. i know there are questions, yes atomic energy is real, i know but russia was in on it too? i know, look how long this shit is already, ill come back to it, but i had said so in a way that wasnt commital that nukes were fake, i did a lot of research hand i wanted to come back and say it emphatically when i was sure and i am.

#youtube

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formulafanfics13 · 14 days ago

Note

loved food sext fic ( Charles abt to have a stroke😭) can you please make it with other drivers too?also can you make it that they don’t find out immediately after but suffer for a while? Ly 😘

one-star michelin mayhem - CS55

Masterlist

Summary: When Carlos sees a flirty-sounding message pop up from Pierre Gasly on your phone, he spirals into a jealous panic, convinced you're cheating — only to discover you and Pierre have a months-long tradition of sending each other filthy, dramatic food porn. Once the truth comes out, Pierre takes it as a challenge and begins psychologically tormenting Carlos with sensual food messages, triggering chaos across the grid.

Warnings: Crack humour, miscommunication, jealousy spiral, suggestive language, sexting-style food commentary, emotionally unhinged use of French pastries, group chat chaos, light swearing, mild domestic angst, and one deeply traumatised Spaniard. No explicit sexual content, but heavy with innuendo.

It starts with a pop-up notification. Carlos wasn’t snooping. He swears. Your phone just lit up while it was on the kitchen bench, screen up, next to the fruit bowl. And all it said was:

Pierre Gasly 🥖 “fuck me that’s hot”

Carlos froze. His heart rate spiked. His eye twitched. You were in the bathroom, singing to yourself, the water running. Blissfully unaware that your boyfriend, your sweet, loyal, utterly head-over-heels Spanish boyfriend, was standing in the kitchen having a minor stroke over one text.

From Pierre. Pierre who had a nickname emoji. Pierre who called things hot. Pierre who was your close friend, sure, but also a little too French, a little too smug, and definitely a little too… into you?

Carlos tried to ignore it. He really did. He paced. He refilled his glass. He checked the oven timer even though nothing was cooking. He even tried to scroll on his own phone. But the image, that text, haunted him.

fuck me that’s hot.

What was hot? You hadn’t been out tonight. You’d been home all day. In sweats. Hair tied back. Watching MasterChef reruns.

Unless… He blinked. Eyes narrowed. Mind spiralling. He picked up your phone. And with the caution of a man defusing a nuclear bomb, he unlocked it (yes, he knew your passcode, you told him it once when tipsy and never changed it) and opened the messages.

The chat with Pierre was right there. And oh. Oh no.

Every photo was marked 1x view only. Dozens of them. From both sides. Each caption worse than the last.

– “oh my fucking god i want to die in that” – “this would be better raw” – “i’m gonna explode just thinking about it” – “i want it in my mouth now” – “the texture alone is making me hard”

Carlos actually staggered back. Was this real? Were you - were they - was he -?

He couldn’t even open the photos. They were gone. One view only. Like Snapchat but crueler. You were sexting Pierre. In broad daylight. With photos. Suggestive captions. 1x visibility like cowards.

Carlos had to sit down. You emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later in an oversized hoodie and socks, humming. “Babe, where’s the leftover-” You paused, seeing his face. “…you okay?”

Carlos looked up slowly. Like a man who had seen war.

“What were you doing at 2:37pm today?” he asked, voice level.

You blinked. “What?”

He nodded toward your phone. “Pierre texted. Said something was hot.”

You tilted your head. “Yeah? And?”

He stood. “I looked.”

Your eyebrows lifted.

“I saw your messages,” he said, quieter now. “The photos. The captions. ‘Raw’? ‘I want it in my mouth’? What the fuck, cariño?”

You stared at him for a long moment. Then burst out laughing.

“Wait-wait-you think Pierre and I are-sexting?!”

Carlos crossed his arms. “Don’t laugh. It looked horrible. Emotional. Filthy.”

You wheezed. “Carlos. We send each other food photos.”

He blinked. “What?”

You wiped tears from your eyes. “Food. Meals. Dishes. Fucking pastas and pork belly and croissant porn.”

He frowned. “But the messages-”

You giggled harder. “That was my duck confit! The ‘raw’ one was his wagyu tartare from a stupid pop-up in Paris!”

Carlos opened his mouth. Closed it. Then, “Wait, the thing he said he was going to explode over-”

You clutched your stomach. “Babe, that was a four-layer tiramisu tower. I nearly cried eating it.”

Carlos looked like he was buffering. Then your phone lit up again.

Pierre Gasly 🥖 “update: just ate a sundried tomato risotto that made me want to fuck the chef”

Carlos groaned. “I hate the French.”

You collapsed against the counter, laughing until you hiccupped.

That night, you showed him the full archive. An entire six-month chat thread of feral food commentary. Photos of roasted duck legs. Oozing burrata. Close-ups of truffle fries with aggressive lighting and sensual captions. A voice note of Pierre whispering “this focaccia is slutty”. One video of you literally crying over an oyster. Carlos sat there, stunned.

“You people are insane,” he said finally.

“Are you jealous?” you teased, nudging him with your foot.

He looked at you. “I was about to call my mother.”

You giggled.

“I was going to confront Pierre,” he added.

“Oh my God.”

“In front of the entire paddock.”

“Stop.”

“I was going to punch a man over a lasagna.”

You curled into his side, snorting. “Do you feel better now?”

Carlos sighed, dramatic. “I feel hungry.”

It takes exactly 24 hours for Pierre to find out what happened. Not because you tell him. Not because Carlos confesses. But because Charles Leclerc, who Carlos had told that morning in the gym, who was now drunk at dinner, shouts across the table:

“Oi Pierre, did you know Carlos thought you were boning his girlfriend because of your food texts?!”

Carlos drops his fork. Pierre blinks. Then grins so wide it could slice open the Italian Riviera. He leans back in his chair, sipping wine like a villain. “No,” he says casually. “But now that I do…”

Carlos closes his eyes. “Don’t.”

Pierre winks. “Too late.”

It starts small.

A single DM. Sent at 3:06am.

Pierre: “saw a photo of a baked camembert today and thought of you” “melty. trembling. soft in the centre.”

Carlos doesn’t reply.

The next day:

Pierre: “today i had a croissant so flaky i thought it was you reading our texts” 1x photo: a pristine golden pastry split open, oozing chocolate, artfully backlit Caption: “i would ruin this with my mouth”

Carlos blocks him on Instagram.

Pierre moves to WhatsApp.

Pierre: “imagine: you. me. a raviolo the size of your fist. yolk barely holding. a knife through the middle. explosion.”

Carlos tries to mute the chat. Pierre sends a voice note. It’s just him moaning the words “chive butter” for 14 seconds. Carlos throws his phone across the couch.

The group chat explodes.

Lando: bro is gonna develop a dairy kink just out of trauma

Charles: I almost called the police when Pierre said “triple cream brie like a dirty secret”

Oscar: i just want to understand the vibe

Lewis: the vibe is unhinged gastronomy and psychological warfare

Alex: i just googled duck confit and now i’m hard. what the fuck is wrong with you people

Pierre takes it public.

He posts a story: A photo of a single caramel-drenched profiterole. Caption: “for carlos ❤️”

Carlos reposts it with the caption: “leave me alone before i snap a breadstick in your eye.”

It’s not over. At the next race weekend, Carlos walks into hospitality to find a custom plate waiting for him. Tag tied to it with twine. Handwritten. French.

“made you a soufflé. thought it might help with the emotional damage.” – pierre 🥖

Carlos stares at it for 10 full seconds. Then throws it in the bin.

Oscar claps.

Later, you find Carlos sitting in the McLaren motorhome with his head in his hands. You kiss the top of his head.

“I made you pasta,” you murmur. “No one else has seen it. No photos. Just us.”

He looks up like you’ve given him religion. “Does it have cheese?” he whispers.

You nod. “Three types.”

He exhales. “I love you more than life.”

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fluff #cs55 fic #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz imagine

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previousloversandmuses · 2 years ago

Text

FREQUENCY: Episode 1 - A Soldier Boy Story

FREQUENCY: A Soldier Boy Story

EPISODE 1: “Frequency”

WORD COUNT: 5,118

PAIRING: Soldier Boy X Reader

WARNINGS: (NSFW) Mentions of suicide, mental illness, rape, and self harm. Foul language. Mentions of sex, or sexual innuendos.

A/N: This story is dark, and covers mature themes. The main character, as well as other major characters, are offensive in nature, and may offend some people. Please peruse with caution, and remember that this is fiction. Reader discretion is advised. Please message me for any questions, comments or concerns.

This is introductory, we do not meet Soldier Boy just yet. Please excuse any grammar or spelling errors.

Masterlist

I was pumped full of V at Vought Laboratories when I was born. My mother took a thousand dollar bribe for some dope in exchange for her newborn daughter. They placed me in a NICU unit, hooked my veins up, and hoped for the best.

The scientists were worried at first. I showed no physical symptoms of compound V. There were no laser eyes, no fire aura, no electricity flowing from my fingertips. They kept their tabs on me. Ran test after test. Colic. They said I had colic. I cried over everything. There was no consolation. They thought I was a lost cause. Ready to pretend like this test subject never existed. A late term abortion ex-utero. Thank God a few of the doctors started catching on.

It was door slams. Creaking floors. Burners boiling. Cleaning supplies. Microwave lunches. Music from a few floors down. The overhead lights. Open windows. High blood pressure. A baby crying. Tuna fish sandwiches. Bleh. Spoiled milk. Fireworks. Gunshots from the Police Academy in upstate New York. Ship horns. Cigarette smoke. Low blood sugar. An earthquake in Siberia. Nuclear detonation testing in the Pacific ocean. Car horns. Rush hour.

See, they didn’t notice my abnormalities because they weren’t seen by the naked eye. They weren’t paralyzing mind tricks. Compound V took every ounce of my five senses and shot them up with gasoline, tequila, adrenaline, cocaine. A high voltage defibrillator to my nervous system. As if my sinuses were stapled open. As if my eardrums were plucked out by tweezers. I heard everything, even with my ears plugged. I saw everything, even with my eyes closed. I tasted everything, even with my mouth shut. I was everything, everywhere, all at once, and for an infant, that can be overwhelming.

As I grew older, I was still kept in the lab until they were fully aware of my capabilities. Until they had studied every strand of DNA in my body.

I didn’t have super strength, I didn’t have superpowers. They made sure of that. One time they strapped me to a chair, sticking ekgs on my chest. I passed out before they could even run a test. I could never stand velcro.

Frequency is what I was called. My supe name, at least. They called me Freaq for short. Which I guess if you think about it, isn’t really a lie.

My hearing was my most valuable asset. What’s this radio frequency? They’d ask. Can you make out the voice in this? Is this a bomb or just a backpack? Listen in on this meeting. I need collateral. We have to know everything that’s said. Is this person lying? Is that person lying? Keep in mind, these were the tasks I was given at around six or seven. It was easier for them then too because I was so small. I would slide into the air vents and stay as quiet as I could, absorbing as much information as possible. I’d spew it back to them like a pawn.

Teen years the work really started. They’d be strong in their threats to others. People would get hurt. People would have their lives ruined. I’d spy on them for weeks, getting all the information I could. Listening in on their most intimate conversations. Their most profound, and personal moments. I’d spew it all back to Vought. And they’d use what I’d told them as collateral.

Thanks to my hearing, thanks to my sight, I was able to snipe better than any experienced veteran. I never even needed to use the scope. For the most part I would snap my fingers, or click my tongue, and sense the vibration of the objects around me. I’d shoot whatever I needed to right between the eyes. Everytime. To this day I still can't get the sound of hot, metal rounds, piercing through brain matter out of my head. Me stealing the life of a defenseless victim who unluckily got caught up in the mess. Even when I plugged my ears, screaming, nothing kept me safe from the deafening silence from their no longer beating heart. I was never caught.

I had been cursed. By God? By Vought? Who knows. Mothers mourning the loss of their stillborn child. Smelling the cancer in people who walked by me on the street, on the way to pick up their young child from school. Gang violence. Break ups. A father beating his son to a pulp for not taking out the trash that day. Suicide. A young woman, screaming, begging for him to stop. This takes a toll on a young kid. No one should be forced to listen to the struggles of others, we have enough to deal with on our own. Hell, I’m sure if I focused hard enough, I could've heard the sound of my mother crying out to me, sullen and alone, from her perch on a rundown curbside.

I had lost it, as expected. Cutting, acting out, pathetic suicide attempts. It got bad enough to where they had to isolate me off somewhere in Appalachia. Somewhere I could enjoy the peace and quiet. The nurturing lull of nature. Waterfalls, and animals, and the rustle of trees in the Eastern winds. Native music, and arts and crafts underneath a big, red harvest moon. I could see every crater out that far in the mountains. There was no light pollution. That was always the best part. If I looked hard enough, sometimes I could see Saturn's rings without a telescope. Of course they’d still call my handlers whenever they needed me, they weren’t that concerned for my wellbeing. But hey, at least I no longer had to deal with the sounds of the city on my off days.

I had learned to resent Vought, which is understandable, and honestly a given. I mean what did they expect? I was cursed, to say the least. Every day was torture, and unpredictabe, even when I was all the way out in West Virginia. Some nights I’d hear a distant shotgun fire, and torpedo into the heart of a beautiful buck, with a sleepy, quiet family waiting for him a few hundred yards away in a clearing.

I wanted nothing more than to watch these people crash and burn. To listen to each and every one of them take their last breath. The only deaths I could, or would ever enjoy. The sweetest sound I’d ever heard. I could get off to it. And I would surely avenge that. That was a promise.

After I turned eighteen I did end up getting a place back in the city. Which is where I am now. I cope with the overstimulation in my desperation for revenge. A desperation so wild and intense I would do anything. I would do absolutely anything to get what I want.

The Homelander would tour the labs after his graduation every once and a while as I was growing up. He’d be intimidating. Stiff, and brooding. No one would ever amount to the power he held. None of us would ever become the specimen that he was. I’d look up at him with innocent, wide eyes. His body always sounded different than everyone else's. His organs moved with a horsepower. It was like his body took diesel. No one's insides ever sounded like his. I could feel the vibration of his cells dividing from half a mile away. He was so enchanting to a little gifted girl like me.

“What’s this one?”

“Heightened senses, Sir.”

“All five?”

“Yes. We find her hearing very promising.”

He had hummed in response. Staring back at me with an emptiness I’d get to know very well. He had only gotten worse since then.

After I had moved back to New York, Vought would still use me on occasion, but for the most part they just saw me as damaged goods. I was invited to parties, and events multiple times, and got paraded around like a fucking circus freak. Advisors would bestow me upon rich donors. “Ooh, let me stand across the room! I want you to guess what I’m saying.” I’d shake my head. There was no “guessing”. It was a stupid game if you ask me. They could have stood twenty miles away and it still wouldn't be much of a challenge.

I had felt him before I heard him.

“Repetitive, huh?”

I didn't even have to look at the donor across the room to know he was saying "orange". He had the audacity to whisper too. Your money paid for this, I thought. Don’t you have a little faith in me being more than a party trick?

“Yes, actually.” I said, turning around to see the symbol of patriotism.

“I didn’t know you had moved back to the city.”

I looked at him with the same eyes I did all those years ago, and he still stared back at me just as broken.

“Yeah, I’ve been here for a few months now.”

He placed a hand on my lower back. My skin tingling from the brush of his augmented fingertips. He walked me over to one of the large windows that overlooked the skyline. I had worn a tight dress, which he had taken notice of.

“You’re not so little anymore.”

I had laughed at that.

“If I’m honest I can’t remember the last time I felt like it.”

He looked at me with a gleam of recognition. Realizing we weren’t so different. Sure, he could break my spine if he clapped too hard, but we were both stripped of the innocence we so desperately needed. John and I were never friends, we were just two children starved of loving parental affection.

And now, a few years later, I sit perched on his lap. My legs falling off either side of his sturdy frame. His hands don't touch me. But he is smiling softly. His eyes glazed over and heavy. His nose rubs mine as I whisper to him. My hips moving up and down on the heat of his crotch.

“Do you like what I’m wearing?”

He tilts his head down, his thumbs sliding across the trim of my black lace underwear. He hums, a goofy smile spreading across his face.

“I do,” I brush my lips against his, his teeth catching on the skin of my cupid's bow. “Although, I can’t help but think there is an ulterior motive here.”

My eyes shoot open, glaring at him. He's still smiling at me.

“I needed you…” I’m an awful liar.

He takes a deep breath in through his nostrils. Placing two big hands under my ass while he fixes his posture on the chair. He cradles the back of my head, lacing rough fingers into my hair. Pulling me back until I’m looking him in the eyes.

“What do you want?” He asks plainly. I sigh, rolling my eyes, trying to pry myself out of his grip. “You know this doesn’t work on me.”

He pulls me tighter, my hair follicles hanging on to my scalp by sheer luck. I whimper, the feeling knocking the breath out of me for a second.

“You come up here to see me, of all people, wearing this pretty little get up.”

He uses his other hand to pull my lower half closer into his, wrapping his arm around my waist. My ribs could turn to dust under this vice grip.

“You know what I’m here to ask for.”

“We’ve been over this so many times now.” He tsks at me. “Tell me what’s in it for me, and I’ll consider it.”

I glare at him. This routine is like clockwork by this point. I come to him with a plan for revenge and he shoots me down everytime. I know he agrees with me, I know he wants it just as bad as I do, but this is his leverage. He can be so fucking evil.

“Does the idea of getting back at these people not give you a hard on?”

He laughs at me, releasing his vice grip. I pull myself off of him, walking over to my jeans discarded on the floor.

“Now why would I, of all people, want to get back at Vought?”

I pull my tight jeans up, one leg at a time. He walks over to me, looking down as I button my pants.

“You would be fine without them. Fuckin’ buddhist monks have your photo up at shrines in the himalayas for Christs sake.”

I walk past him, grabbing my shirt from off the ground. He slaps my ass as I pass by.

“I’ll think about it.” He suggests. I roll my eyes- he won’t.

I pull my hair out of the neckline of my shirt. He stands in front of me, his gloved fingers pulling out my necklace. He adjusts it so the clasp is back where it needs to be. I look up at him through my lashes.

“Just the scientists that worked with Vogelbaum.” I whisper.

He brings his hand up to my chin, pinching it with his thumb. He places an out of character, gentle, chaste kiss to my lips.

“...And Stan Edgar, and all the other top Vought executives…” He teases.

“No!” I pout.

“Yes,” He taunts. “And last time I checked you are perfectly capable of taking these people out all by yourself, one at a time, without ever getting caught.”

He's trying to pull it out of me. He knows why I need his help. He’s so smug. He wants to hear me say it.

“Why do you really want my help?” He torments.

I sigh, moving to grab my purse from off the chair in the corner of his living room. He stops me, gripping my wrist tight into his hand. I glare at him. Anything but this, I think. I would never beg him for anything…but I do.

“The gala…in the Summer,” I mumble, defeated. “Everyone will be there, even the scientists.”

“Ah, yes, the gala. Being applauded for their efforts in the creation of Temp V.” He smiles. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”

I shake my head, making my way back over to his front door. He doesn’t stop me this time, too satisfied in his successful grilling.

“One of us has lasers for eyes, John, and it’s not me.”

“Why would I want to ruin my own party?”

Before I leave I turn to him, pointing my finger. My eyes welling up with tears. Why does he do this? Hes been fucked over by Vought more than I have.

“All of them are going to be there at the same time. In the same building. We could end this, we could fucking destroy these monsters, once and for all.”

He glowers at me.

“Compound V made me a hero.” He argues.

“Compound V made you despicable,” I counter. “You’d finally be a real man without them.”

I open the door, him tripping at my heels.

“Vought made me a God.”

“Made you a sad fuckin’ excuse for one. Come find me when you grow a pair of balls.”

I slam the door in his face.

I met Billy Butcher at a speakeasy a little over a year ago. He was downing a bottle of whiskey at the bar. It was only 2PM.

“William, I’m assuming,” I reached my hand out for a shake. “A little early for the bottle don't you think?”

He looked down at my gesture, ignored it, then slammed his booze back on the counter.

“Freak, I'm assuming?” He had added an obnoxious emphasis to the ‘K’.

I nodded, pursing my lips. Extending my awkward, unshook hand back into my pocket.

He reeked, and I mean, reeked. His insides had smelt like a nuclear bomb had gone off. His liver was already in the later stages of decomposition, to say the least. His eyes were sunken in, and dark around the edges. Irritated too. Like he'd been rubbing them raw.

I took note of his entire presence, leaning over to the left a tad to take in all sides of his bloated, depressed body. I looked closer. His right ear was oozing what looked like old blood. It was black, like tar. It didn’t smell like blood though. It was pungent and harsh, almost similar to ammonia- radiation, maybe? The nuclear bomb inside him, I considered.

“You have black rot coming out of your ear,” I stated plainly. He had reached his hand over to wipe it. “It’s disgusting, whatever it is. I’ve never smelt anything like that before. You should really think about getting that checked out.”

He ignored me, picking up a napkin, and wiping his tar-coated hand on it.

“Let's get down to business, ey?”

“Alright.” I added. Breathing through my mouth wouldn’t have helped either, I thought.

“Me and the boys are going to Herogasm.”

“Congratulations. I’d recommend cleaning those ears out before you go.” I said, unimpressed.

He rolled his eyes, then looked around the room. No one was in there besides a bartender, and an old man asleep at a rounded booth. He leaned in closer to me.

That's when I caught it- a familiar scent. I couldn’t put my finger on it. A certain chemical compound I remember smelling often during my recent visits to the tower.

“Look, to make a long story short, I got ten grand with your name on it, and a party infested with obnoxious supes. I need you to sit at high ground, and keep watch.”

“Why don’t you get one of your boys to do it?” I grill.

“None of ‘em have aim like you, sweetheart.” He said it with such a shit-eating grin.

I rolled my eyes, “I’m flattered, truly.”

He took a deep breath, getting even closer, I could feel his hot breath on my ear.

“We’re going to be...taking him out.”

I looked at him, hard. I squinted my eyes. Listening in on his slow, heavy heartbeat. His unrelenting, static blood pressure. He wasn’t lying, I thought. He knew better than to anyway.

“Good luck with that,” I chuckled, beginning to stand up to leave. Had he lost his mind? I thought. I didn’t have the time for this. Plus, thinking hard on it, I didn’t even know if I had wanted John to die. I had people to get revenge on, y’know?

“We have a weapon,” He added, yanking my arm back down, nearly pulling it out of its socket. “The same one that killed Soldier Boy.”

The blood had rushed out of my face then. He really was serious. I looked around, trying to focus on anything, but my thoughts were racing, and my eyes had gone cloudy.

“Want to know something even crazier?” He probed. “The weapon is Soldier Boy. The cunt was still alive. Had to fight a handful of Ivans to get the bastard out.”

“That's impossible,” I laughed, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Soldier Boy died in Nicaragua.”

“Ten thousand big ones for a few hours of your time, sweetheart.” He smiled.

I swallowed hard, grabbing his bottle from off the counter and taking a big swig.

“You have to make me a promise,” I held my finger in his face. “If homelander dies, you and your boys have to help me finish something.”

He put his hand out for a shake.

“Anything you need.” He grinned.

“Anything I need if he dies.” I nodded along, grabbing his hand, my mind off worrying, my eyes glazed over with fear.

“Anything you need when the cunt dies.”

And that’s when I had smelled it, the Temp V. My eyes widened at him. Now that explained why his organs were rotting. The bastard had been shooting up liquid radiation into his veins in a lame attempt to put up an equal fight. His grip tightened around mine, threatening to shatter my wrist.

“I’ll give you the address, you’ll need your own car. Don’t be seen by anyone.” He declared, beginning to stand up from his stool.

“I wasn't born yesterday,” I mocked. “And by the way, if you do any more of that Temp V, you can go ahead and sign your death certificate.”

As we all know, that plan never worked. Homelander survived, and Soldier Boy is off somewhere frozen solid, I’m assuming. I never ended up getting the chance to see either of them that day, my shitty car ended up breaking down on the side of the road only twenty miles out of the city. Maybe it was for the best, I thought. A lot of people died that day.

And so here I am, a year later, still willing to help him, but now for a different reason. If John wasn’t going to help me with my plan, Butcher and the boys surely will.

Butcher had told me to meet him at a sketchy apartment building in the Bronx, so here I was. Looking around, there isn't much to see. Piles of trash and hoards of rancid homeless people litter the streets. Gross, I think. Why can’t the city grant these invalids a communal shower or something? Doesn’t the mayor know some people can practically smell atoms?

Before I buzz in for him, I catch the wind and listen for their lingering voices upstairs. They are on the roof, and I think by the heartbeats I can count four- no- five. There are five of them, and one of them is definitely a woman. Her heart is delicate, small. But pumped full of V? I think. It thumps with an exertion only jacked supes would understand. Sounds like a panic attack waiting to happen, if you ask me.

“Any of you ever use one of these before?” A voice asks.

“Eh, maybe a rifle but not a scope.” Someone replies, an accent thick...present.

“Frenchie, hasn’t she had combat training?”

“Combat training, yes, but not a fucking sniper.”

“Butcher, would you come over here please? Hughie, would you grab him?”

A giant group of idiots, I think. Maybe this wasn’t the greatest idea after all. I pull my hands into a finger gun and shoot it into my open mouth. This is going to be a long night.

I walk over to the entrance, looking down at my phone. Butcher is taking too long to answer me. I slap the side of the code box, listening to the stops on the inside. A thicker metal, and rusted too. But I can still make it out. 1111? Really? No wonder everyone gets robbed on this side of town.

Typing in the code, I begin to saunter my way upstairs. I'm slouched over and panting by the time I reach the top floor. Man, it’s times like these where I wish I could’ve been V-blessed with some fucking stamina. Fuck you Vought. I slip my way out onto the rooftop. Everyone's heads fly around to see me as I walk towards the group.

“Could you guys be any fucking louder?” I ask, walking right up to Butcher. He smiles down at me.

“Glad to see you’re in a good mood this evening.”

I roll my eyes, “Too bad I could smell your insides rotting from half a mile away.” I pat him on the shoulder as I walk by, heading towards the man at the edge of the roof with a rifle.

“Butcher, what the fuck?” The scrawny one asks.

“He doesn’t bring too many girls around, huh?” I say.

“Who the fuck is this?” The French one questions.

Butcher smiles as I go up to the man holding the gun. I shoo him away, squatting down, and placing my finger on the trigger. I squint my eyes and look down the scope.

“Which one is it?” I ask.

Butcher comes over, squatting next to me, as well as the guy who was holding the gun before.

“Blue tie,” Says butcher. “Bad haircut.”

“Balding or buzzed?”

“Neither. Short mullet.” He adds.

I nod, and suddenly stand up, moving to another spot on the rooftop.

“What the fuck are you doing? I just spent two hours setting that spot up!”

“The glass is bulletproof,” I state. “Can’t you see the reflection?”

I start laughing then, “I mean, can’t you hear the way it sounds as the wind gusts off of it? There might as well be a sign.”

He looks at me quizzically, they all do. It usually takes a second for most people to recall my pathetic existence.

“This window here must've just been replaced, because it’s temporary. Not bulletproof, and frankly, not strong wind proof either. This thing is just asking to be shattered.”

I crouch down again, squinting my eyes, and looking down the scope. I hold my hand up, snapping quietly. In fractions of a second, I can feel, hear, and see sound waves bouncing off of every nearby surface. They rush through the open air towards the glass window, bouncing off, only then to reverberate around the inside. It wraps around the target's stature like a sheet in the wind. Bullseye. I pull the trigger, hitting him directly between the eyes. We all watch as all hell breaks loose within whatever party I just ruined.

I stand up, handing the rifle over to Butcher. I wipe my hands off on my pants.

“We have five minutes before a swat team barrels up here. Do you mind if we talk in private?”

Butcher nods, he and I both begin to walk downstairs. Everyone grabs their stuff, and from the scrawny boy I hear a snap, like he's finally put his finger on it.

“Frequency!” Ego boost, I think. “God, that makes so much sense.”

That recognition hasn’t happened in a while. I'm embarrassed to say I’m beginning to blush.

The french one nods to him, “A freak of fucking nature. That is a hell of a gift.”

A hell of a curse, he means. If only they knew the half of it. The boys chuckle as Butcher and I disappear into a dark alley. There are sirens in the distance.

“I need a favor.” I say, stopping and turning to him. The only thing illuminating us is a musty street light. It's hazy and orange. He looks down at me with damp skin. His body is trying it’s hardest to detoxify itself. There is no use.

“What's that, love?” He chuckles, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He brings one up to his lips, inhaling and lighting. He gestures the pack to me. I shake my head. I always end up tasting the pesticides.

“Look, I’ve asked everyone. You and your boys are the only thing I have left.”

“Well, spit it out then.” He coughs.

I take a deep breath, looking down at my shoe and kicking a little rock with the toe of it.

“I want revenge on Vought.”

“Get in line sweetheart.” I roll my eyes at him, why does everyone always say that?

“But listen, I have the perfect idea,” I explain. “Over the summer they will be throwing a huge event in celebration over the success of Temp-V. I’m sure almost, if not all of the major Vought scientists will be there. Oh, and executives too. And all of the supes we all hate as well.”

He watches me as I talk, just smoking his cigarette. He’s hard to read these days. His expression is always pained. Not surprising though, I can literally hear his body decomposing.

“I just- this is my best chance to get back at these people for cursing me. For making my life, and everyone else's life a living hell. Think about it, you can avenge your wife!"

“Why don’t you ask the big man in the sky?” He scoffs.

“I did, he said no.”

“Well, there is your answer from me.”

“I’m sorry?” I glare at him, appalled. “Last time I checked all you wanted to do was avenge your wife! Say 'fuck you' to Vought, and to Homelander. Why do you suddenly have cold feet?”

He reaches around me, placing an arm on my shoulder. He begins to walk me down the alleyway.

“If the cunt says no, then it’s a no. We show up there ready to blow a crater into the ground, he’ll be the first to know. You know better than I do that he ain’t gonna like it. Also, we got ties to the FBI and the CIA. The last thing they need is for their agents that are integrated within Vought to be a part of Supe 9/11.”

“You’re telling me the CIA isn't looking for an excuse to destroy these bastards?”

“They are,” He smiles. “Just in a way that won’t have a trail leading back to ‘em.”

We’re at the opening of the alley now. Police cars fly by as they respond to the murder I just committed a few blocks away. I should be in the clear, I’m hearing a lot of “Arab Supe-Terrorist” static over the vibrations of police radio.

“Get Soldier Boy back, thatll make it even easier for everyone. They can just blame it on him.”

“That’ll come back on ‘em too, Love. They have him hidden with a frostbitten dick at a military compound. If the cunt got out on their terms they’d never hear the end of it.”

Huzzah, I think. Now that is a good idea. I go to shake his hand. If he's gonna reject me too, I guess there is only one thing left to do.

“Where'd they end up keeping him anyway? My bets on upstate.” I question.

He squeezes my hand tight, smiling at me mischievously.

“I know better than to tell ‘ya that, sweetheart.”

I laugh, not genuinely, more out of frustration by this point.

“Right,” I say, beginning to walk off in the direction of my subway. “Let me know if you are ever need any of my services. You know where to reach me.”

He walks off the opposite way, his radioactive stench leaving a trail behind him. The plot thickens. Soldier Boy is upstate alright. And if no one is willing to help me, then I’ll just have to do it myself.

Masterlist | Episode 2

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #soldier boy smut #soldier boy fanfic #soldier boy the boys #the boys fanfic #billy butcher #hughie campbell #homelander x reader #homelander smut #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #billy butcher x reader

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1-800-gaygentsofshield · 4 years ago

Text

five more minutes | n.r.

summary: Soulmates cursed to never be together, each life always longing for a love that they've never met..or so they think.

warnings: temporary character deaths, reincarnation?, violence, self-sacrifice, angst with a happy ending, implied sexual content, language

based off of Billie Eilish's cover of "the end of the fucking world" originally produced by Rob Dickinson

one life is based on the film “underwater” by William Eubank

word count: 8,344

---- = separate life

/ = a skip in time, same life

Your chest is heaving as you pry open the door to the last safe house in the city, everything turning to hell ever since the “End of the World” started happening. Smoldering flakes of ash were falling from the sky and the bombs were getting set off every few minutes, absolute mayhem engulfing the world around you. This safe house was located on the city's outskirts, technically not disaster-proof but far away enough to be human-proof from the rest of the world.

You belong to one of the major power families that run your district, your father and mother getting killed earlier this morning because of it. The y/l/n's have always been feuding with the other families in control, everyone always hungry for power and willing to do anything to let their family have it.

Stepping inside the house, your boots creak on the wood, the door slowly closing behind you. Your gun feels heavy on your waist as you cautiously take a few steps forward, listening for any signs that someone else might be in the safe house with you.

You hear another creek of the floorboards and in one swift motion, you pull out your gun, keeping your finger resting on the trigger. You move quietly to the kitchen where the noise came from, arm raised and aimed forward. Almost simultaneously, both of you sidestep and see each other, the corners of your lips twitching up as you see Natalia in all her glory. "Y/n." Natasha greets curtly and you nod your head, both of you aiming guns at one another. "Natalia." You say in the same tone before the ground shakes, rattling the house. "Running away like always?" Nat taunts and your eyes quickly scan over her features, taking in the disheveled and tired look on her face.

"You were here first." You comment and she rolls her eyes, adjusting the grip on her gun. "I'm gonna have to kill you now, huh?" She says and you quirk an eyebrow, still on edge as you watch her body language. "Do you really want to kill me? Or does your family just want to?" You ask and her eyebrows furrow, you not wanting to deal with this stupid family feud while the world is ending around you. When the redhead doesn't answer, you shake your head, a breathy laugh escaping your lips as you look at Natalia. "What happened to us, Nat? We used to be so close." You say and Nat sighs, glancing down at her gun before making eye contact with you. "Family happened Y/n. Families got greedy for power and we got dragged into it. A Romanova couldn't be associated with a y/l/n, could it?" She says and you purse your lips together, eyebrows furrowing slightly as you make a decision.

"I don't want to spend my last few moments on earth fighting you, Talia." You say as you slowly lower your gun, Natasha's shoulders relaxing slightly at the action. "What are you saying, Y/n?" Nat asks and you look at your childhood best friend with a certain desperation in your eyes. "I'm asking you to put our family feuds aside, just this once." You pause briefly before speaking. "I don't want to be alone when the world ends." You say softly and Nat contemplates your offer, only taking a few moments to make up her mind. Natalia nods her head and slowly puts the gun down, giving you a soft "okay" as she looks at you. You nod your head and echo her statement, whispering a soft "okay." before holstering your gun.

You’re sitting on the front porch as you watch the world around you fall apart, sipping on some old beer you found in the fridge. The soft opening of the front door causes your head to turn, seeing Natalia step onto the porch with a cigarette in hand.

You’ve been listening to the radio for the past hour, hearing the news cover the chaos as you sit there with the wind blowing in your face.

Natalia doesn't say anything as slowly moves to sit down beside you, wordlessly offering you a hit of her cigarette. You shake your head and hold up your beer in a similar fashion, Nat shaking her head as well. The rustling of the grass and the crackling radio are the only things heard as you both look forward, Nat placing the cigarette between her lips and you taking a swig of your beer.

Tentatively, you place your head on Natalia's shoulder, trying to see how the other woman would react. You feel Nat tense up at your action and you internally panic, thinking that you stepped over a line. Sure, you could've done that when you both were little..but now you're all grown up, times have changed. You're about to pull away when Nat wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her as she relaxes. There are no words exchanged as you lean into her side, Nat taking one last drag of her cigarette before tossing it on the ground. Crushing the nub with her boot, she makes sure it's exterminated, not wanting to start a fire (not like it matters though). You both sit there in a comfortable silence afterward, the radio droning on and on about how horrible the world is.

After a while, you decide to break the silence, still keeping your head on Nat's shoulder. "I love you, Talia." You say softly, feeling the warmth radiating off of the other woman. "What did you say?" She asks and your head turns slightly to look at her, trying to read her expression. "I love you, Talia." You repeat, lowering your head back down to her shoulder once you've made eye contact. "Always have, always will." You finish and wait for Natalia's response, wanting to see if she pulls away or not. Nat is quiet for a second before you feel her arm tightening around your waist, her head turning to kiss your temple softly. "I love you too, Y/n." She whispers, closing her eyes as she leaves her lips there. "I'm sorry that we drifted apart." Nat mumbles against your skin and you place your hand on her knee, rubbing your thumb in a small circle. "I'm sorry too." You say, planes flying overhead. "I've never hated you, you know. I just didn't want to disappoint my parents." Nat says and you nod your head, looking up at her and smiling softly. "I know Nat. I know." You say, bringing your hand up and gently brushing your fingertips along her jawline. Natalia leans into the touch and looks down at you, watching the way you look at her with such care that she hasn't seen in a while.

Your fingertips move down and you run your thumb over Nat's bottom lip, glancing into her eyes one more time before leaning up. You kiss Natalia delicately as she kisses back, eyes fluttering closed as her free hand cups your jaw.

Are you kissing her because it's the end of the world, or are you kissing her because you've been in love with your best friend ever since you were five? Either way, you're kissing her and my god her lips are soft.

You both pull away gently as you look at each other, sadness and regret in both of your eyes. Besides you, the radio continues to. crackle out the news.

...nuclear warhead..five minutes..seek shelter immediately..

Your breath catches in your throat and your heart rate speeds up, panic filling your chest as Natalia simply reaches over and shuts the radio off. “Shh hey, it’s gonna be okay.” Nat whispers as she pulls you closer to her chest. “I don’t want to die Talia.” You whisper as you cling onto the redhead, head burying into her neck and arms wrapping around her torso. “Five more minutes.” Nat repeats the phrase on the radio and you nod your head, taking in her scent. “Five more minutes.” You echo her as she hugs you tighter, both of you knowing that there isn’t enough time to escape. You’ve spent your whole lives avoiding and hating each other, so why continue doing it now.

“I wish we had more time.” You whisper and she nods her head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Maybe in another life.” She whispers and you can only nod, sighing softly before leaning in to kiss her again.

And for those five minutes, Natalia just holds you, placing gentle kisses on your crown and repeating how much she loves you over and over again. “I’ll find you in the next life, and if not in that then in the next one after.” Nat promises and you nod your head, knowing your five minutes are about to be up. “I love you Talia.” You whisper as you close your eyes, holding onto her as tight as you possibly can. “I love you too, Y/n.” Nat whispers before resting her head on top of yours, closing her eyes as the warhead hits and a bright light surrounds the two of you.

----

"Car crash, 24 year old female, 35 year old male, falling in and out of consciousness." The radio dispatch lists off the information as the ambulance arrives at the scene, Natasha immediately jumping out of the back along with Steve. "I've got the girl, get the other car." Natasha orders and Steve nods his head, both paramedics heading separate ways. Natasha's eyes scan the scene as she sees a red car completely flipped upside down, running her way over there as she sees a bloody hand reaching out. "Please..help.." Nat hears a soft whimper as she drops down onto her knees, looking inside the car to try and assess the damage. Nat barely reacts as she sees you trapped by your seatbelt, trying to calm your breathing as blood pools on the roof of the car. "Hi my name is Natasha, I'm a paramedic and I'm here to help you." Nat introduces herself and you try and look at her, hands shaking as you grip at your cut. "Can you tell me what your name is darling?" She continues as she immediately gets to work, the car door already being ripped off in the crash. "I-I'm Y/n. Y/l/n..Y/f/n (your full name)." You say shakily, Natasha looking at your injuries. "Okay, Y/n. I'm gonna get you out of here, I just need you to keep on talking. Can you do that for me?" She asks and you nod your head, starting to talk about whatever comes to mind. "I- uhm I was born in (your home state or country), moved away from my mom and dad as soon as I could." You laugh softly at the statement before you wince, feeling Natasha put pressure on your wound. "Fuck." You hiss out and Nat whispers a soft "Sorry" before continuing. She shouldn't need to apologize, she was doing her job after all, but she had an odd desire to comfort you even when you were kinda bleeding out"It's okay.." You say before continuing, your vision focusing and unfocusing. "Uhm..I have a dog and my brother is gonna graduate in a few weeks. And I'm so fucking proud of him, I never told him how proud of him I was but I'm so fucking proud of him." You ramble and you don't notice Nat's eyes widen, seeing that if she moves you you'll bleed out within a minute. "An-And I've never found love, just fucking douchebags that I wasted my life on and now I'm gonna die without finding my person and I don't wanna die Nat..I don't wanna die." You choke out as you close your eyes, wanting this nightmare to be over already as a wave of deja vu washes over Natasha. "Hey okay look at me, look at me Y/n." Nat says as she gently cups your cheek, watching as your eyes slowly open. "Keep your eyes on me, okay? You've gotta stay conscious. You think you can do that for me?" She asks and you lean into her touch, mumbling something incomprehensible. "Can you repeat that for me, baby?" Nat asks and your head lolls down a bit, feeling lightheaded as Natasha tries to keep you awake. "Mmhm..should be easy..you're very pretty." You mumble out and Nat smiles softly, ready to get you out of the car. "Okay, my partner and I are going to move you but I want you to keep your eyes on me, don't look anywhere else." She says as Steve comes over to the two of you, already taking care of the male in the other car. "Severe lacerations to her torso and blunt force trauma to her temple. Seatbelt's keeping her in place." Nat gives Steve a brief rundown and he nods his head, lowering the stretcher onto the ground as Nat secures your neck in place. "Just to be safe." She says and you hum softly, their words muffled as they move in slow motion. "Okay we're going to move you on one..two..three.." Almost as if they were in synch, Steve and Nat get you out of the vehicle, Steve getting you secured onto the stretcher while Nat tries to keep you from bleeding out. "Start talking Y/n, I need to hear you talking." Natasha says as your blood soaks through the gauze, pooling under her gloved hands. Incomprehensible mumbles fall past your lips as you try and stay conscious, your entire body feeling numb to the pain. A soft whimper of discomfort is the last thing that you say before you fall quiet, Nat looking at you concerned. "Come on baby you

need to keep on talking." Natasha encourages you gently before nodding at Steve, both of them working quickly to get you into the ambulance. "Tell my parents that I love them..and tell my shithead of a boyfriend to go to hell." You manage to get out and Nat laughs softly, helping Steve lift the stretcher into the ambulance. "Who else do you want me to tell?" She asks once she hops into the back of the ambulance with you, Steve shutting the doors and telling the driver to step on it. "Tell my brother that I'm proud of him..and tell the other driver that I don't blame him.." You start to list as the lights start to get too bright, causing you to squint to try and look at Natasha. You swallow dryly as you can feel the life draining out of you, causing you to hold your hand up to the redheaded paramedic. "Nat, can you do something for me?" You ask weakly and she nods her head, Steve taking over putting pressure on your wound. "Yeah, what is it darling?" Nat asks softly as she changes out her gloves, swapping them for a new pair before leaning down to look at you. "Can you- Can you take my ring?" You ask and confusion floods her face, Nat looking down at the simple band on your pointer finger. "I dont-" She starts but you shake your head, wincing at the pain that it caused you. "Please..I- It might just be the blood loss talking but I feel like I've met you..probably in another life or something like that." You say and wait for her reaction, seeing her stare at you for a few beats. "I know, it's crazy but-" You start but she shakes her head, grabbing onto your hand and squeezing it lightly. "No I get it. You aren't crazy." She says softly and you smile meekly at that, slowly taking off your ring and putting it in her hand. "Then keep it." You whisper and she nods her head, looking at the ring in her gloved hand. "Okay." She says and you smile, finally feeling whole for once in your life despite all the blood you've lost. The fight finally leaves your body as your eyes close, your hand falling limp against the stretcher.

"Shit she's coding." Steve hisses out and Nat's head snaps upwards, shoving the ring into her pocket as she jumps into action. Steve immediately starts compressions as Nat works on your breathing, securing the mask on your face as she pumps the bag. Steve barks out orders over the radio as Nat stands by your head, eyebrows furrowed as she watches you.

"Come on Y/n stay with me, just five more minutes to the hospital." Nat says under her breath as the ambulance races through traffic.

"Hold on for five more minutes." She continues as Steve does his compressions, trying to manually restart your heart.

"Please..just five more minutes." Nat whispers under her breath as another PMD puts a defibrillator on your chest, trying to check for a shockable pulse.

After a trail of CPR, advanced airway, and cardiotonic drugs, Steve finally makes the call.

"Call it." He says to Natasha and she shakes her head, not giving up that hope that you could still be resuscitated. "She's gone." Steve states and Nat shakes her head once again, looking at your still form. "No Steve we can't-" "Tasha she's gone. You have to call it." He says sternly and it shuts Nat up, sighing as she looks at her watch. "Time of death, 9:52 pm." She says as the other PMD covers up your body with a sheet, only a few minutes later the ambulance pulling up into the hospital.

Nat sits in the back of the open ambulance as she watches the hospital staff go by, Steve coming to sit by her. "You alright?" He asks and Nat nods her head, blinking back tears as she looks at your ring. "Yeah..Yeah I'm fine." She says before closing her hand, turning her head to look at Steve. "But she was right, I really feel like I've met her before." Nat says and Steve nods his head, putting a reassuring hand on her back. "Maybe in another life."

----

"The drill is working smoothly sir." You report to the Capitan over the intercoms, the screens showing an all-clear in front of you. "Thank you, sailor." His voice crackles over the coms and you nod your head, pressing back the button to send a reply. "Of course, sir." You say before standing up straight, checking the pressure regulation and structural integrity one last time.

It's a must to make sure everything is working smoothly down here, after all, one mistake and the entire drill could be crushed seven miles below the surface of the ocean. "Hey, sailor." Natasha's arms wrap around your waist as she hugs you from behind, moving your ponytail aside to kiss the back of your neck. "Hi baby." You say as you lean back into her touch, eyes closing as you feel Nat's lips on your neck. "Capitan gave you the all-clear?" She asks and you nod your heads, humming at the warmth of your girlfriend's embrace.

It's lonely working on a research/drilling facility seven miles down and being isolated for months at a time, but with Natasha here, it makes things a tad bit easier.

You turn in her arms before cupping the sides of her neck, kissing the redhead softly. "Free for the rest of the day." You say and Nat smiles into the kiss, pulling you closer to her by your hips. When you both pull away, she brushes her lips over yours gently. "You wanna.?" Natasha's sentence trails off with a grin and you smile at her, your fingers hooking onto her dog tags and pulling her closer. "Mm..dirty Tasha." You laugh as you tease the kiss, kissing her softly only a few times. "I don't hear you complaining." Nat grins and you only roll your eyes, glancing at the clock before looking back at your girlfriend. "Then what are you waiting for?" You ask and Nat squeezes your waist, pulling back to grab your hand and lead you to the sleeping quarters.

You pull on your Navy-issued shirt as Nat laces up her boots, both of your faces flush from fucking for the past hour. "You messed up my hair." You say to Nat as you try and fix it in the mirror, seeing your slightly swollen lips and hickeys on your neck. "You wanted me to pull it." Nat shrugs and you purse your lips together, tugging your hair back into a semi-neat ponytail. "Yeah but not that hard." You mumble and Nat comes up behind you, both of you locking eyes in the mirror. "What did you say again? Oh Nat fuck me harder..mm tug my hair, oh!" Nat mimics your moans and you shove her lightly, trying to hide the smile on your face as you act mock offended. "I do not sound like that." You say and Natasha only smiles, fixing her belt and tucking her shirt into her pants. "Whatever you say, darling." She hums before kissing your cheek, pulling out your dog tags from under your shirt. You're about to pull her in for a proper kiss when the alarms suddenly go off in the base, a loud AI announcing the warning.

Warning sructural integrity compromised, immediate evacuation advised.

"Fuck." "Shit." Both of you curse under your breath as you swing the door to the barracks open, seeing the rest of the crew rush past you. "Come on we've got to get to the escape pods." Natasha says as she grabs onto your hand, running through the crowd as loud crunches and bangs echo throughout the drill.

"They're closing off this part of the drill!" Someone yells and it makes your heart race even faster in your chest, knowing as soon as someone closes that safety hatch you're all dead.

Nat and you push through people in the crowd, water starting to pool at your feet. It's only a matter of time before this section of the drill immediately collapses, making people literally trample over one another to try and get to safety.

"Come on, come on!" Clint calls as he stands by the safety hatch, watching the people behind you get sucked up in the pressure vacuum. "Close the door! Close it!" Steve yells at Clint as he watches the base collapse, you and Nat jumping over fallen debris and dodging electrical wires. "Go, just go!" Nat pushes you in front of her as you both sprint towards the hatch, Clint pressing the button to slowly close it. Your heart is racing a million miles per minute as you see the exit in sight, Natasha pushing you forward to get through first. There's barely enough space for you to fit through, grabbing Natasha's arm and pulling her in just in the nick of time.

The heavy metal door closes just in time, the rest of the drill getting torn out into the marina trench. Your chest is heaving as you hold on to Natasha, immediately scrambling up to check on your girlfriend. You cup her face as you watch her laugh up at you, hair soaked and face a bit cut but still alive. Your worry quickly changes into anger as you shove Nat in the arm, eyebrows furrowing. "Don't you ever do that again you fucking bastard!" You seethe, taking a few deep breathes before engulfing Natasha in a hug. "Fuck..I thought I'd lost you." You mumble as you feel Nat's arms wrap around you, not caring about Steve or Clint standing to the side. "What? I'm always going to put you first Y/n." Nat says softly before you pull back, now straddling Nat's lap. "Just don't do that self-sacrificing shit on me, okay? That was terrifying." You say and she nods her head, wiping away some of the wet hair that stuck to your face.

Clint clears his throat and you both look at him, you slowly getting up and helping Natasha up as well. "So, what do we do next?" He asks and everyone looks at each other, Steve speaking up first. "Let's find a way out of this death trap."

Clint paces as you all sit in the escape pod bay, you trying to get the only remaining one working.

"Are you done yet?" He asks for the third time in five minutes and you sigh, looking at him from over your shoulder with an annoyed glare.

"I'm a Navy engineer, not a wizard, stop rushing me." You say before turning back to the pod, trying to salvage what is left of the broken device.

When the four of you arrived at the escape pods, all of them have been deployed except one, you immediately jumping in and trying to fix it. It's been about ten minutes and your hope is dwindling by the second, finally dropping your makeshift tools and running a hand over your face. "Hey it's okay, we'll find another way out." Nat says softly as she crouches down next to you, rubbing your back in a small circles as she sees how distraught you are.

"Let's make our way over to the control base, see if we can make contact with the surface." Steve breaks the silence and you all turn to face him, everyone nodding their head as you and Tasha stand up.

You all meet up with Wanda, Tony, and Vison in the control base, all three of them having unsuccessful attempts to contact the surface. While the rest of the team is discussing the next plan of action, you're by the computer reviewing the readings on the ocean floor, finding the exact time when the drill collapsed. You know it wasn't your fault, you checked all the stats earlier and the base was perfectly fine, so what set it off? Eyes bouncing along the screen, you see that the ocean censors picked up a quake exactly fifteen seconds before the base started collapsing, an odd sensation filling your chest as you realize that no one could have prevented it.

"Y/n, did you hear us?" Steve asks and your head snaps towards the group, Nat looking over at you with a concerned look in her eyes. "Pardon?" You ask and Steve explains Tony's plan, saying that they could use the pressurized suits to try and walk to the next drilling facility to use the escape pods there. "But the nearest facility is more than few a miles from here, and besides, we have no clue what we'll find on the ocean's floor." You say and Tony nods his head, sighing as he sees the map.

These suits haven't gone more than a few yards from the base, specifically being made for drill repairs and short expeditions to fix the service towers.

"Well it's the only option that we have, other than that we can just stay here and wait for the drill to collapse ontop of us." Tony says and you contemplate it for a moment, glancing over at Nat before nodding. "Okay, what other choice do we have?'

You’re all suiting up when you see that Natasha’s helmet is sitting on one of the benches, the redhead herself slipping on her suit not too far away. Walking over to the helmet, you decide that there’s no harm in checking it out, reasoning that you should be more safe than sorry in a situation like this. Your heart almost stops when you see a small crack in the glass, knowing that once she goes underwater she’s as good as dead when the pressure hits. Taking a quick glance around you, you slowly exchange Nat’s helmet for yours, taking the damaged one in your hand and heading back to where you were suiting up. It’s better me than anyone else, especially Nat. You think to yourself as you move to put the rest of your suit on, Tony calling you for help before you could do so.

Once you arrive back at the bench, you’re relieved that the helmet is still there, knowing that yours is the damaged one. “Hey baby, you ready?” Tasha asks as she walks over to you, suit still bunched up around her waist. “Mm.” You hum as you step towards her, hugging her tightly and putting your face into her shoulder. Nat is a bit taken aback but she melts into your grasp anyways, wrapping her arms around your midsection and pulling you close.

“I love you Tasha.” You whisper softly as you close your eyes, knowing that you’ll be dead as soon as you hit the water. “I love you too Y/n.” Nat says before pulling back, looking into your eyes with a bit of concern. “Why are you acting this way darling? We’re gonna make it out of this together, I promise.” Natasha says and you only nod your head, giving her a bittersweet smile as you lean up and kiss her.

“I know...I just love you a lot Nat. Wanted to let you know that before we set off.” You hum and she nods her head, kissing your lips briefly before pulling you in for another hug. Her head is tucked into your shoulder and she rocks the two of you gently, kissing your temple once you both pull away. “Let’s get out of here.” She smiles and you nod your head, pulling the helmet on and securing it tightly.

Your breaths are shaky as Tony lowers all of you down into the water, preparing yourself for the pain you’re about to experience. Nat sees how tense you are and mistakes it for just plain old nerves, not knowing that you just gave yourself a death wish by swapping helmets with her. “It’s gonna be okay malysh.” Nat reassures you as she grabs your hand, you shooting her a smile as you make eye contact. “I know..I know..” You whisper under your breath, the water now over your heads as Tony lowers you deeper. “Get ready everyone, the pressure is going to hit hard.” Clint says and to the left of you, you see Steve’s helmet crack, your eyes widening as you spot it.

“Steve, what did you do?” You ask and he only looks at you, a gentle smile on his face as he sees you and Natasha. “Couldn’t let you leave her alone.” He smiles and you shake your head, frantically ordering Tony to not open the door. “Take care of her for me, okay kid?” Steve says and it’s too late, the door already opening and the pressure flooding in. “Steve no!” You yell as you see his helmet crack inwards, barley a second to register what happened before his suit implodes from the inside out.

“No Steve! No! Fuck!” You’re sobbing as everyone else processes what just happened, Tony frantically asking what just happened. “He switched our helmets! That idiot!” You say as Natasha just stands there in pure shock, Clint being the next one to speak up. “You knew your helmet was defective and you didn’t tell anyone?!” He questions and you shake your head. “I switched my helmet for Natasha’s! It was supposed to be me! Not Steve! He must’ve grabbed it when I got distracted, god damn it!” You’re angry, angry at Steve, angry at the helmet, angry at the earthquake, and most of all you’re angry at yourself. You should’ve noticed it. You should have made sure it was still the damaged one. “You should have just let me had it Y/n.” Nat says and you shake your head, glaring at your girlfriend.

“It’s better me than you Nat. You’re not dying, not if I can help it.” You say before everyone falls silent, everyone stunned at your outburst and Steve’s death. After a while Tony clears his throat and steps around you, looking into the depths of the mariana trench. “We’ll have time to mourn later, right now we need to make sure that we’ll live enough to.”

"Tony's dead..Wanda's dead, Vision..Steve..fuck they're all dead." Clint gasps out as he holds onto Natasha, the remaining three of you getting separated when a monster ambushed you. "Clint calm down, I need you to calm down." Nat says as she holds onto her best friend, darkness swirling around them. She forces herself to stay calm as she guides Clint through some deep breathes, refraining from asking about you until his pulse rate goes back down to normal.

You all saw their helmets crack and their blood muddle up the water, these monsters picking everyone off one by one. “Where’s Y/n?” Natasha asks once Clint can finally regulate his breathing, his grip loosening on her suit. “I..I don’t know. We got separated after that thing attacked us." He says and Nat is about to ask another question when she hears your static-y scream ring over the coms, her blood running cold as she sees your suit's lights frantically moving in the distance. "Haul ass Clint, come on." Nat doesn't waste any time as she tries to run through the water, dragging Clint along as she hears your screams through the coms. "Y/n! Y/n where are you?" Natasha calls out as your lights flicker off, head immediately turning 90 degrees when she sees your helmet lights come back on.

You're stabbing this merman-shark-eel hybrid in the face when Nat and Clint finally reach you, it's blood making the water murky as you kick it off. "Oh thank god you're alright." Nat breathes out once she sees you standing there, that relief only lasting for a moment as another thing latches onto both Clint and your legs. Its momentum is quick enough to knock both of you off your feet, unfortunately causing you to drop your knife in the process. Both you and Clint grit out curse words under your breath as you fight with the mysterious monster, Natasha loading up a flare gun to try and help. When she shoots the gun, it temporarily lights up the atmosphere around you, blood running cold as you see the monster that grabbed you.

Its teeth are sharp and dripping with blood, its slimy black claws slowly pulling you and Clint closer to its mouth. As it drags you along the ocean floor, you grab onto a jagged rock, quickly trying to swing at the arm. "Mother fucker." You curse as you hit the arm, it's sharp nails digging even more into your leg as a reflex. With all your might, you continue to swing at the hand, desperately wanting this to be over already. “Let. go. of. me.” You grunt out, watching the skin and muscle get hacked away. The monster screeches and pulls its arm back, now trying to drag in Clint double time since one of its meal got away. “Clint! Hold on!” You yell as you grab onto the man’s hand, trying to find any traction as you look at Clint. Nat is immediately behind you in an instant, grabbing onto your waist to hold the both of you back. Clint is screaming at this point, his leg getting torn by the nails clawing at his skin.

“Don’t let me go, please!” Clint says as you three get pulled closer to the monsters mouth, you desperately trying to tug him away. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Your teeth are clenched as you feel yourself starting to loose your grip, Nat’s boots slipping on the ocean floor. “Don’t let go.” Clint begs and you nod your head, leaning forward even more to try and keep hold. “We’re gonna get out of this, I promise..” You say but there’s no time for him to respond, the monster roughly pulling him out of your grip and dragging him into the depths of the deep blue sea.

The last thing you hear is Clint’s painful screams that come through the coms, Nat grabbing onto you to keep you from falling over the edge. The both of you are quiet as you stare into the unknown, heart pounding as you realize that you’re the only ones left. “Clint.” Natasha whispers softly and you hold onto her, both of you trying to process how quick that was. “I’m sorry Tasha. I’m so sorry.” You whisper and she swallows thickly, taking one last look into the darkness before making eye contact with you. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.” She says before composing herself, straightening her posture and checking her compass. “Come on, we got set off course.” Nat grabs your hand before she turns, keeping her gaze straight ahead as she pulls you both away from the ledge.

“They didn’t train us for this in the Navy.” Nat mumbles as you both trudge along the ocean floor, about half of the way towards the other drill facility. “Yeah, sea monsters and flesh eating eels weren’t exactly on the handbook.” You say before checking your compass, making sure you’re still on course. “Nope.” Nat sighs and shakes her head, glancing over at you with a soft smile.

“Hey..I love you.” She blurts out and your chest floods with warmth, a smile tugging at your lips as you look at her. “I love you, Tasha.” You say and she smiles back, both of you stepping a bit closer to one another. “When we get to the surface, would you..hypothetically..marry me?” Natasha asks and you raise an eyebrow, finding it amusing how Nat trying to play it cool.

“You know..because I can’t imagine my life without you, and I don’t want to live in a world without you in it. No scratch that, I couldn’t live in a world without you in it. You’re my soulmate..my person y/n, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you..hypothetically of course.” Nat finishes with an awkward laugh and you can only grin, reaching out to hold her hand gently. “Hypothetically..” You start and she laughs breathily. “If you asked me to marry you, I would say yes.” You say and she nods her head, a smile present in your words.

“Do you wanna ask?” You question and she shakes her head, making a little pff sound. “No I don’t want to ask.” She says and you nod your head, looking down at the map. “We’re almost there, just a few more miles-” “Will you marry me?” Nat breathes out in a rush and you laugh, looking back at the redhead who has a nervous smile on her face. “Mm yes.” You grin and Nat’s face lights up. “Yes?” She repeats, voice a bit high as she stares at you. “Yes you idiot.” You giggle as you tug her closer, squeezing her hand gently. “You better hug me when we get out of these suits.” You tease and she nods her head, looking at you with love in her eyes. “I’m gonna do you one better, I’m gonna marry you.”

Your breathing is shaky as you slightly lag behind Natasha, the air in your suit getting harder to breathe for the last few yards. “Are you okay darling?” Nat asks as she turns to look at you, you nodding your head as you wave a hand infront of your face. “I’m okay, just tired.” You say with a tired smile, Natasha nodding her head as she grabs your arm. “Come on you turtle, we’re almost there.” She teases and you can only laugh softly, continuing onward.

You’re struggling to take in breaths when a robotic voice rings through your ears, a small warning flashing in the corner of your helmet.

Caution, five minutes of air remaining. Oxygen pod damaged.

Fuck. You knew your luck would run out eventually, especially when you’re this close to escaping. “We’re only a few hundred yards from the facility, shouldn’t be too long before you get that hug.” Natasha smiles and you don’t respond, instead letting go of her arm and letting yourself fall behind a bit. “Y/n?” Nat asks as she faces you, seeing you stand there with a small smile on your face.

“Keep on going Nat, I’m right behind you.” You say softly, not wanting to worry your girlfriend as she’s so close to escaping. “No come on you dummy, let’s go.” She says but you shake your head, seeing the clock count down on the corner of the helmet. “I’m right behind you love.” You whisper, willing your voice not to break as Nat’s brows furrow. “Y/n what’s wrong?” She asks and her eyes widen once she sees it, the little screen on your arm flashing an oxygen warning. “You’ve gotta go Tasha.” You say and she shakes her head, gently holding your shoulders as her mind starts to race.

“What happened?” She asks and you point to the pack on your back. “The oxygen pod got damaged back when the monster dragged Clint and I across the floor, guess I didn’t notice it until now.” You say and Nat swallows thickly, checking her map before looking back at you. “If we’re quick enough we can make it, we just need to move-” She starts to say but you stop her gently, holding onto her biceps. “I’m not gonna make it, you know that Nat.” You whisper but she shakes her head holding onto you tighter. “No. No, you have to make it Y/n. Please.” She shakily says and you put your hands on the side of her helmet, holding the glass gently.

“We don’t have enough time Tasha.” You whisper and tears are forming in her eyes, the redhead trying to blink them away as she looks at you. “Please..you have to make it..” She begs, voice small as she sees the timer count down. “I need you to make it, I can’t do this without you..” Nat whispers and you only wish you could hug her one last time. “You don’t need me Tasha. But you’ve got to get going, you need to get to the survive for both of us.” You say and Natasha shakes her head, tears now fully falling. “I’m not just going to leave you here.” She says as her hands shake, trying to think of a way to get you to survive. “You have to.” You whisper before Nat pulls you in for a hug, the suits not stopping her from showing how much she loves you. “I love you Y/n.” She whispers and you hold her closer, closing your eyes as you hear the timer count down.

“I love you, Tasha.” You say softly, Nat holding you there for a few more moments before pulling away. “Keep my dog tags love, so I’ll always be with you.” She says as she pulls back from you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you look up at the redhead. “What?” You question right before the ai voice rings out once again, the warning light suddenly clicking off.

Oxygen pod fixed, air supply replenished.

“Natasha.” You whisper out her name as you see your old oxygen pod drop to the sea floor, realizing that Nat just switched out the rest of her oxygen into your suit. With no pod in her suit, Natasha’s oxygen levels immediately drop, warning signs flashing bright red in her helmet. “I’m sorry darling.” Nat says as she looks at you, starting to feel lightheaded from the lack of air. “No..no no no no no.” You breathe out as Nat collapses into your arms, quickly moving her so she’s leaning onto your body. “Okay..okay come on. We can do this.” You mumble to yourself as you start to trudge your way towards the drilling facility. If there's one thing that they taught you in the Navy, that's to never give up, even when you're within an inch of your life you never stop fighting.

Once the murky lights of the drilling facility finally come into view, you almost jump for joy, Nat's head hung low as you drag her along. Your body aches and you think your leg might be broken, but that doesn't stop the relief coursing through your veins, opening the door and stumbling into the pressurized walkway. The entrance closes behind you before the water gets drained from the room, your legs collapsing from the lack of support the ocean gave you.

You gently place Nat on the ground before collapsing onto your knees, taking off your helmet and gasping down the fresh air. You cough a bit as you try and regain your breath, unzipping your suit so it bunches at your waist. Your coughs soon turn into laughs as you realize you've made it, quickly turning to Natasha to celebrate. "Nat, we did it. Holy shit..we fucking did it." You smile as you gently shake her shoulder, expecting her to take off her helmet by now.

"Nat..? Nat darling..we did it." You say softly, your smile fading as you take Nat's helmet off. "Oh my god, no." Your heart stops as you see Nat's pale cheeks and blue-tinted lips, shaky hands cupping her face as you ask the AI for her vitals.

No vitals found.

"Tasha..No please." You say before quickly moving to unzip her suit, fingertips touching her ice-cold skin. You start chest compressions as you desperately try to revive your love, the tears building up more and more with each round. "You made a promise, Nat." Your teeth are clenched as you finish another set of 30 compressions, bending down to give your fiancee two rescue breaths. "You said we're going to get out of this together. You promised me." You're barely keeping it together as you start another round, hot tears threatening to spill.

"You said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, well you can't do that if you leave me." Your chest is heaving as your compressions get sloppy. "So god damn it please Nat. Please. Please don't leave me." A sob rips from your throat as your movements finally falter, your arms collapsing from underneath you. Your entire body is wracked with sobs as you cling onto Natasha's shirt, crying into her chest as you hold her lifeless body.

You beg for Nat to come back like a broken record, chest heaving as you finally let all of your emotions breakthrough. You scream and you cry until your throat is raw, guilt gripping at your chest as you think all of your fallen crew members.

Your head rests on Natasha's stomach until your heart-wrenching sobs mellow down into silent cries, this small emotional break letting you spot something sticking out from your fiancee's helmet.

Sniffling a bit as you sit up, you take Nat's helmets into your hands, gingerly pulling out a piece of paper wedged into one of the corners. With shaky fingers, you hold it up into the light, breath catching in your throat when you see it. It's a picture of you and Nat after running one of the Navy obstacle courses, a wide smile on both of your faces as your working uniforms are caked in mud. A quivering smile tugs on your lips before you sob again, placing your head in your hands as your shoulders shake.

You’re still a mess as you fully get out of your suit, hands shaking with exhaustion as you put a makeshift splint on your leg. You easily find the escape pods and sigh in relief when you see that they’re all working, entering the commands to get to the surface.

As you stand in front of the pod, you decide to bring Natasha with you, refusing to leave the love of your life at the bottom of the ocean. The tears come rushing again as you pull Nat into the escape pod with you, pressing the button to close the hatch and to finally get the two of you out of here. “I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you.” You whisper as your arms tighten around Nat’s torso, slipping her dog tags over your head before you kiss her temple. Your eyes are screwed shut the entire time you travel to the surface, sniffling softly as hot tears silently run down your cheeks.

When you break the surface, you aren’t excited or relieved, you just feel numb, the cold air hitting your face once you open the pod. It’s like everything around you is shaded grey, your eyes dull and dead as the paramedics reach you. The entire time you’re looking at Natasha, seeing the first responders check for her pulse. As they pull your stretchers away from each other, there’s only one question on your mind: what’s the point of living in this world if Natasha isn’t in it?

————

The sunlight softly illuminates the Avengers compound in the early hours of the morning, two bodies warmly pressed up against each other under the protection of a fluffy duvet.

A phone alarm goes off but it doesn’t break the peaceful atmosphere in the bedroom, one of the bed’s occupants slowly turning over to shut off the device.

“Y/n, baby, wake up my love.” Natasha hums as she kisses you, her soft pink lips planting a few gentle kisses on your neck and cheek. Your only response is a hum as you turn in Natasha’s arms and bury your face into her neck, wrapping your arms around her torso and pulling yourself closer. “Come on darling.” Nat laughs as she runs her hand through your hair, voice a bit rough from just waking up. “Too early.” You mumble and Nat sighs, a sleepy smile still on her face as she holds you. “Steve will kill us if we’re late to training.” She says but you shake your head, gently kissing the warm skin of her neck.

“You’re the Black Widow, you could kick his ass ten times over if you wanted to.” You reason and Nat nods her head. “You do have a point malysh.” She says and you hum. “Five more minutes.” You mumble and Nat nods her head, wrapping her arms around you before pulling you closer. “Okay, five more minutes.” She whispers before kissing your cheek, her fingers running up and down your spine.

#natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #marvel mcu #mcu natasha romanoff #mcu #au

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jedifarmerr · 4 years ago

Text

Wasteland

Post-Apocalyptic AU!Frankie x f!Reader

This is based on the game series Fallout, mostly based on Fallout 4, but doesn’t follow the plot nor do you have to know the game to understand the story!

Rating: E (18+), This is post-apocalyptic, so there will be violence, but no gore. Violence won’t be super descriptive either.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Nuclear War (but no mention of who bombed, nor will there be), DEATH, violence, trauma, tiny amounts of blood,BOMBING, passing out, guns, gun point, language, eventual smut. This is a mix of a prologue/chapter1, so please heed the warnings when I say Nuclear War. Let me know if I missed any.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1: The Death of the Sun

Good morning Concord! And thanks for tuning in on this beautiful August day –

The summer morning really was beautiful with a clear and sunny sky. Not too hot. Not too cold. The sheer curtains danced around in the balmy breeze wafting in through the open bay window. In the living room, you and Nora were flipping through the Sunday Funnies – classics such as Dennis the Menace, Moon Mullins, and your personal favorite, Archie.

“Pretty good this week, girls?” Your dad asked from his recliner. He folded down the business section of his newspaper and peered over at you with his reading glasses perched lowly on the tip of his nose.

“You know it,” you answered, per usual. It was like clockwork. He asked the same exact question, in the same exact spot, and always during the weather segment on the news. Sunday’s in the summer were like Groundhog Day, but you didn’t mind.

Actually, you found something comforting about the predictability of comic strips, then pancakes and eggs, and if the weather was nice, your dad would take Nora and you out for a mid-afternoon drive with the top down in his convertible. You liked the routine even after all these years. It had barely changed since you moved into the neighborhood in the second grade and became friends with Nora, who lived only a few blocks away.

The two of you met on the school bus, and no – it wasn’t like Forrest Gump. No seat’s taken moment or anything dramatic like that. Typical Nora had been in trouble and after one too many write-ups had earned her a seat directly behind the driver. Which just so happened to be the only spot available. You liked to call it fate.

It didn’t take long before your stop became hers. Wherever you went – she went. Growing up, her parents were never around much, so instead she practically lived at your house. So much so, even your dad had taken to introducing her as his third daughter to his friends and colleagues. She came on family trips: Greece, France, and even a summer in Spain after senior year. Honestly, she felt more like your sister than Alice ever had.

You had been pretty much inseparable - until college. The realization of another summer creeping into a close made your stomach sink. In just two short weeks, she would be headed back to UConn to start her PhD in Clinical Psychology, whereas you would return to Camridge.

2077 is shaping up to be a big year for sports, Kevin - beeeeeeep.

The sound coming from the speakers quickly switched from a high-pitch whistle to an eerie mechanical voice.

Please stand by. Please stand by. Please stand by.

On the screen, there was a cautionary triangle – a warning sign. The black exclamation mark against a flat, gray background.

You swallowed the chill in your throat. “Dad, what’s going on?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he darted over to the window without even glancing in your direction. His eyes scanned over the cloudless sky. Or perhaps, he was examining your neighbors whose murmurs had begun to trickle inside. Indistinct. He bolted the window shut before you could make any sense of it.

“Dad.” You scrambled upright, socks sliding along the ornate rug. “Dad, what’s happening?”

“We need to go.” His voice was hard – expression icy. He was nearly unrecognizable. A completely different man from the one smiling in the photo hanging above the mantle. His gaze never met yours, still, even after chasing him into the entryway with Nora on your heels. He yelled from the bottom of the stairs for your mother and sister. “It’s time.”

“It’s time? What do you mean it’s time?”

Again – no answer. At this point, you didn’t even expect one, but it was so confusing. It’s time? It didn’t make any sense unless he meant – no.

No, you reasoned, it couldn’t be.

How could he possibly know that?

There were no explosions or announcements or anything but birds in the sky.

You figured it’d be stupid to question him further when clearly he was ignoring you. But you wanted to know why he would say that. How could he be so sure?

You were about to ask anyway, until the sirens went off.

You initially covered your ears. The sound droned through your skull. Your mother and Alice were scrambling around upstairs. Your dad was frantically searching around for something in his office. He flung open the drawers, stuffing papers in his pockets.

Your panicked eyes found Nora. Her face was pale, her skin was clammy. The raw fear in her eyes instantly made you feel sick. She was scared. Nora was never scared of anything.

As your family barreled into the room, Nora laced her fingers with yours and said, “Don’t let go.”

“I won’t.” You squeezed her hand. “I promise.”

Threat detected: Members evacuate to Vault 97 immediately.

The usually quiet street was chaos. The soles of your white sneakers struck against the cement colored with fresh chalk and ancient, child-size handprints.

In a full-blown sprint, you didn’t dare stop. Not even when a car lost control and hit a light pole. Or when it fell to the ground and completely crushed an elderly couple. The broken wire caught a teen by the leg and he convulsed on the ground like a possessed animal. The family was wailing for help, refusing to leave them.

There were people everywhere. Crawling from nearby parks and trails and from somewhere in the tree lines. Everyone was swarming like a pack of ants to the mount, guided by the Vault-Tec signs.

You climbed up the slippery gravel hill. At the top, there was a minister preaching into the hysteria.

The end is near. Prepare to meet thy God. Repent or meet eternal damnation.

The Vault was tucked back, hidden and protected by an electric fence. A mob had formed around the perimeter and it didn’t look like anyone was being let inside the gates. The entrance was heavily guarded by a blockade of robots, and they weren’t like any you’d ever seen before. No - these robots were massive, nearly twice the size of your dad. They were decked out in shiny Vault-Tec armor and fortified with shock batons that crackled at both ends like sparklers on the Fourth of July.

In stereo, they let out monotone protocol: No membership, no vault access. Move to allow for paying customers.

“Come on!�� Your dad gripped your hand even tighter. You did the same to Nora’s before he drilled into the crowd.

He was fighting to get to the front. You’d never seen him be so forceful. He was like those angry bulls in Spain. In his sweater vest and khaki pants, he didn’t look like much of a threat, but he snarled at a man who unintentionally elbowed you in the ribs. It didn’t even hurt, but he shoved the man to the ground anyway. A few seconds later, there was a scream and sickening crunch, and you tried not to think if it was him or not.

You were basically helpless, squished between your dad and Nora. Your mom and sister were to your right, fighting just as rough and ruthlessly as your dad to reach the entrance. Despite their shoving, none of it seemed to matter. Nobody was moving, or at least, not fast enough. It was too congested. Too crammed. You could barely see the top of the fence over the wall of bodies.

It was hard to breathe. The air was so thick with sweat and fear and panic, every breath scorched your lungs. You didn’t know how much time was left. You didn't know how you would reach the reach the front. You didn't know if you were going to make it before -

“Vault-Tec employee!” Your dad thrusted his badge into the air. “Move back!”

By the time he repeated himself, the crowd had already started to part like the Red Sea. The air went still and silent as the grave. For a moment, there was a caprice of peace. Hope. Finally, someone was here to help sort out this mess.

Anyone who knew your family called out to them by name. There was your neighbor, who always stopped to chat while walking his dog, Max. The older woman, who gossiped about everyone in her cul-de-sac. The family you babysat for in high school; they shoved their kids into the path.

Please save them. They’re too young.

“Dad-”

“Don’t look,” he ordered. But how could you not when it was everywhere.

You were surrounded by desperate and pleading stares. So many faces - all these people. Even if you looked away, the wind sang with their unanswered prayers.

Help them.

Do something.

“Dad, please.” You yanked on his sleeve like a little kid begging for a toy, but this time, instead, it was people’s lives. “You gotta help them. Please do something. Please.”

“Come on,” he grunted and defeat burned the back of your eyes. The pain radiated into your ribs.

He jerked your arm, hard enough to nearly knock you off-balance. Luckily, Nora was there to keep you upright. He dragged you up to the gates where he flashed his badge. One of the robot guards ushered you through the entrance.

“Halt. No vault membership, no vault access.”

The weight of Nora’s hand vanished from your grasp before you could catch it. Then, behind you, came a blood-chilling scream that sounded like your name.

You spun around and saw her hit the gravel. She was face-down. Two robots towered over her with their shock batons inches from the base of her spine.

“Wait! She’s with us!” You tried to surge forward, but were instantly flung back. You stumbled into a softly padded chest. Your dad. His eyes cut into you, just as hard and unforgiving as his hold on your wrist.

What was he doing? Your brows furrowed. Your skin felt hot.

“Dad. No! Dad! Daddy, no! No! I promised!”

He tried dragging you away, but you managed to jerk out of his hold. Your body hit the ground with a hard thud, but you didn’t stop. You didn’t even care about the bomb threat, right now.

Nora. You needed to save Nora.

You crawled towards her, the gravel slicing your skin. The pain felt like nothing compared to the pulsing beat of urgency coursing through your veins. You couldn’t lose her.

Not Nora.

Not like this.

“Nora!”

Slowly her gaze lifted to meet yours. The fall must have messed with her head because her eyes were foggy. Glazed. Her face was coated in a white sheet of rock powder; there was cherry red drooling out her lips, from the inside of her gums. The taste of iron soured your tongue.

“I’m here, I got you,” you said while reaching out for her. Her fingers grazed your palm, then gone.

Whoosh.

The back of your skull collided with hard metal. A sharp pain bursted around your temples, fuzzing your vision. The shock buzzed in your ears, but the static quickly faded when you noticed Nora slipping further and further away. The rush of panic made you blink away the haze.

The robot had you locked in a cold and unrelenting hold, but you couldn’t give up. You wouldn’t give up, not without a fight.

You kicked the robot’s shin, which did nothing. Just a soulless ding. You balled up a fist and flung it backwards. Nothing. Just a harsh sting to your knuckles. You flailed around, but nothing was working. With each jab and strike, the grip around your torso constricted tighter. Like a boa. It pinned you to its heartless chest until you could barely wiggle your feet.

You used the only weapon left in your arsenal - your lungs.

“Daddy! Daddy!” You broke into a helpless cry as the guards stepped in front of Nora. They lifted their batons into the air. “I’m sorry, Nora! I’m - no!”

The gate slammed shut. The echoes of your first scream still rang in the air; your second hit a new note of piercing defeat.

Afterwards, every sound turned into a dull roaring in your ears.

The robot dropped you like dead weight onto the platform, your knees broke the sudden fall. You winced as the metal divots seared into your sliced up skin. There was blood. Specks of dark crimson were dribbling out from the cuts on your legs, knees and palms. It smeared across the pristine-white Vault-Tec logo underneath you.

Your dad crouched down beside you. When he squeezed your shoulder, you flinched. “I’m sorry sweet girl,” he whispered before kissing your temple. “But we can’t save everyone.”

He mechanically rose to his feet and walked away. Alone, you stared blankly over the cliff. At the street - your street. Once full of countless happy memories.

In the distance, you could hear your dad screaming. “Why aren’t we going? Hit the button! Can you not fucking hear me? Hit the goddamn button!”

There was a flash in the distance. Silent and bright as a bursting star. Suddenly, it appeared to swallow the sun. Painting the sky with amber and gold in a single stroke. What a devastatingly glorious final sunset.

A mushroom cloud erupted along the horizon and the ground began to shake. Rumble. The screams grew louder. Louder. The fiery blaze came rushing this way.

You closed your eyes and braced for impact.

But it never came.

Instead, the smell of earth and the whispers of fellow survivors.

You were alive.

---

Down here, the air was different. It was stale and damp and smelled of fresh paint. Bleached metal, new but not organic.

They had cleaned you up in the infirmary. The cuts tended to be by a worker with wire-framed glasses who smiled too much. Talked too much. His words mushed together in your brain. Even with a gun to your head, you couldn’t recall his name.

Everyone had been packed into the main area, the atrium, to watch a black and white informational film over vault living. It was splashed across the pearly, bald walls - a cartoon that was too cheery, way too peppy, and you found it to be tone-deaf given that millions of people just fucking died.

“We were this close, do you fucking hear me.” You turned to see your dad drilling an accusatory finger into the worker’s chest. His hair was wild and unkempt - his words venomous. “Do you know who the fuck I am?”

You sure as hell didn’t. That man was not your dad. No, your dad would’ve been over here comforting you instead of spitting vanity at someone who was simply doing their job.

Why did he care so much? You were alive, after all.

It must be his trauma response, you reasoned. Still shouldn’t treat the poor guy like crap. You’d make him apologize later when his head was clearer. He would. You knew that he would. He was just upset right now. Who wasn’t? The world had just ended. He’d just watched Nora die.

Why didn’t he save her?

As quickly as it came, you shoved the thought away. You swallowed it down like a bitter pill because it would only lead to resentment. He was not a miracle worker.

But then, why did he let her come? Why did he give her hope?

You supposed he must have thought she was a member. After all, it was a rather taboo topic. No one would directly ask someone. Your family rarely discussed Vault-Tec business at home, and never around you. Confidentiality and all that bullshit.

The movie ended, the artificial lights buzzed back on. The harsh white burned your swollen eyes. You were exhausted.

The overseer took center stage; her hair was bleach-blonde and her lab coat perfectly matched her pale skin.

“Hello and welcome to Vault 97. We hope you’ll all enjoy your stay here.”

A few people in the crowd chuckled for whatever reason. You rolled your eyes. Suck ups.

She rambled on about protocol and something about toxins, but you didn’t really listen. Maybe you should’ve, but oh well. Too late.

Afterwards, everyone was directed into an orderly line to get their vault suits and shoes. During the wait, you scanned the crowd and noticed how few people there were down here. Most vaults held around 200, if not more. But there were only 40? 50 people - tops. At least a few of them were around your age. Some of them you knew, even if barely. You guessed that would be changing soon.

The vault uniform was a skin-tight jumpsuit. A deep sapphire blue with gold threading, which wasn’t terrible until you looked at the back where a tacky gold 97 was printed on like a football jersey.

You tugged at the material sticking to your thighs as you walked over to your family. They were huddled in a corner, alone. Other than a nod, the bare minimum, they boxed you out of the conversation. You sighed. Here you were thinking those Vault-Tec only talks would be a thing of the past, but clearly not. Silly you.

The overseer guided everyone further into the vault - through the atrium and down and around a few narrow hallways. It was so cold down here, and the lighting didn’t help. Dim can lights. Coved ceilings. The starch white walls were empty aside from a thin blue and yellow stripe. It was about as warm and cozy as a doctor’s office.

There was a small sign: Decontamination Room. It hung above a pair of sliding doors. Huh? You didn’t recognize that from any of the vault models at headquarters.

Inside, the room didn’t even look finished. There were holes in the steel-shell walls, exposing messy tangled webs of red and blue wires. You stared up and the ceiling was completely non-existent. It was just this vast abyss with free-floating rafters. The main and only source of light came from the blue-lit walkway.

Around you, the fellow vaulters kissed and waved goodbye to their families before stepping into these…

“What are those?” You pointed at the pod-like things. They were chunky, big-bird yellow, and resembled a massive casket with a window in the front.

Of course, your family ignored the question. Typical.

“Here we are,” the technician said to your family before coming to a halt, gesturing at the mystery machines. Two on the left - two on the right.

The doors might’ve been open, but nothing about it felt welcoming. Seriously, what was that noise? It sounded like a busted up lawn mower and where the hell was it coming from?

“So, who’s first?” The tech eagerly rubbed their hands together.

Side-eyeing the machine, a white mist puffed from the corners. “No, nu-uh. No way. I’m not getting into that thing.” You planted your feet and crossed your arms.

Your mother groaned, rubbing her temples as if inflicted by a sudden headache. “Can you not with the dramatics today?”

“Seriously. Why do you have to always be such a brat?” Alice scoffed, but you didn’t budge. Not this time.

Your dad might’ve chuckled at your obstinance but the warm sound didn’t match the way his fingers dug into your collarbone.

“Peanut,” he cooed, and you couldn’t recall the last time he called you that.

The pod next to yours started making an odd puttering sound, and when you looked over, the tiny window was…frosty? What the –

“Peanut. Honey. Look at me. I know. It’s been a hard day,” he said, his voice calm. Finally, he was sounding more like himself. “I’m sorry, okay, but there’s nothing to be scared of.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, but still didn’t move. He drew back – clearly surprised. This wasn’t like you. Usually you took his word, did whatever he said without question.

“Don’t you trust me?” He asked. “Do you actually think I’d ever do anything to hurt you?” He looked so wounded that you instantly felt bad. This was your dad for fucksake. What was wrong with you?”

Ashamed, you could barely meet his eyes as you shook your head. The smile he gave put you slightly at ease. That was more like the man you knew.

“You’re just always so curious,” he lightheartedly teased, before ushering you into the pod. He nudged you inside and explained, “Look, all this does is cleanse any toxins we might’ve been exposed to during the bomb. Purely preventative. It’ll be quick and painless, and I promise when it’s done, I’m gonna be right here, alright?”

Before you could do anything but nod, he closed the door - locked it. He blew a kiss, the others giving a lifeless wave before dispersing into their own pods without any fuss. Okay. Maybe you overreacted.

You tried to get comfortable, but it was a very tight space. The back cushion was rough and bumpy and it felt like laying on cobblestone. Quickly, the machine hummed to life. The temperature rapidly plummeted, that same white mist from earlier began blowing around the interior like dusty snow. It stirred up memories of winter, of ice skating on frozen ponds and the warm sun on your frosty cheeks. Hot cocoa out of your favorite mug.

Everything reminded you of Nora, and you began to cry. The tears instantly froze into tiny crystals on your chapped cheeks. Your eyes closed on their own.

Then, a violent shiver racked your spine, rocking you into a dreamless sleep.

—

A brush of warmth. A tingle along your spine. And a bad cramp in your neck. Slowly, you awoke – disoriented.

There was a steady throb coming from inside your temples that made it hurt to even think. Your brain was as foggy as the edges on the tiny window. It felt like coming out of deep anesthesia.

The pod door opened with a hiss. Your steps were clumsy, your knees nearly buckled on the first step. Your muscles felt sore and stiff and unsteady like jelly.

“Hello?” You rubbed away the residual haze from your eyes while stumbling over to the pd across from yours.

Alice.

She wasn’t awake. You blinked again - then again. But she was still frozen.

On both sides, the hallway was completely empty. No workers. No people. Not even an open pod door aside from your own. You rushed over to your parents. Statues just like Alice.

You tugged and tugged on the lever to your dad’s pod, but he didn’t budge.

“Hello?” This time, you noticed the echo. You were trying very hard not to panic, but every window you checked was still frosty.

You went and scoured every corner of the vault you could access. Nothing but vacant hallways, locked doors, and password-protected computers. Not a soul.

What the hell was going on?

Frantic, you banged on your dad’s pod until your knuckles went sore. Until your skin broke and burned and you couldn’t listen to the boom of your fists anymore.

You smacked the glass with the flat of your palm and sunk to the ground. You tucked your legs into your chest, then rocked back and forth. Nothing made sense. Nothing made sense. Nothing made any goddamn sense.

Worthless. Tears bubbled up like hot lava and you sobbed. You didn’t even care anymore. The world was fucking over. Everyone was gone. You were all alone down here.

For a second, you wished you didn’t survive. You felt awful for thinking it when all those people just wanted to live.

You bawled for hours, until your stomach growled. After pulling it together, you went searching for food. The cafeteria would have been your best bet, but whichever one of these doors led to the living quarters was locked. You were confined to this lone section of the vault.

Underneath the check-in desk was a case of bottled water and an unopened box of ration bars. You demolished three of them before searching for any clues. Maybe you could stop being so worthless and figure out what the fuck was going on here.

The file cabinets had been dug through. Empty Manila folders were scattered all over the floor. It seemed like the workers left in a hurry.

“Fucking assholes.”

The box with everyone’s clothes and belongings had been picked over too Somehow, a gun inside a backpack had been missed. Who was the psycho who brought a loaded pistol into this vault? Spooky.

Inside the overseer’s desk, in the very back of the bottom drawer was a keycard, which you assumed would open the vault. Other than that, there was nothing else useful. No hints or clues and you were just as confused as ever.

---

Based on the clock in the overseer’s office, it’d been two days. You’d given up hope on someone else waking up or magically appearing.

The only logical explanation you could come up with was that the machines somehow malfunctioned.

Now, that didn’t explain where the workers went or why they abandoned everyone here in the first place. You didn’t understand - half of the people trapped in there had worked for the damn company. Gold-star employees. Your family dedicated their lives to this stupid corporation. They were like the face of it. It had been years, and you still hadn’t forgiven them for making you star in those cheesy after-hour infomercials.

VaultTec runs in our blood. I trust them to keep my family safe. Call VaultTec today.

What a load of shit. You kicked at the metal desk. If you stayed down here, you were going to slowly die. The ration bars were already running out, poor conserving on your part. Oops.

If starvation didn’t kill you, Vault Fever certainly would. It was already starting to creep in and drive you mad. A few more hours and you would be talking to the walls.

You didn’t have much of a choice. You stared up at the sealed entry, and thought if the workers could leave, then so could you…right?

Judging by the sorry state of the vault, you’d been in those pods for longer than three days. The new smell had been replaced by must. The walls didn’t shine like they used to, though you couldn’t tell if it was from neglect or age. Or perhaps, it was both.

If you had to guess, maybe a few years had gone by? Your appearance in the mirror hadn’t changed, at all. Though if those pods were some type of cryogenic, then that didn’t really matter.

Whatever. No matter what, you’d decided to stay close and limit the time of exposure to 1 hour. Max.

Just in case, you went and said goodbye to your family before leaving. Mainly lingering around your dad’s pod. His window was cold to the touch. You promised you’d find help.

I won’t let you down, I’ll get you out of here. I swear.

You crafted a holster out of two belts from the box of belongings and some duct tape from a desk. You strapped it, along with the gun to your waist. For now, it held.

You took a deep breath before swiping the keycard. The button lit up green. As the vault door unsealed, a net of debris crashed onto the metal platform, shaking the entire hull.

Now, it made sense why the card reader was all the way over here. Even a couple feet closer and you would’ve been bug guts. You kicked the debris out of your way, hit the button on the platform, then slowly let it lift you to the surface.

---

You shielded your eyes against the harsh sunlight and squinted at the landscape. You’d expected a mucus-green sky. Swirly storm clouds. Something dark and cynical and terrifying. And while the sight wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t all that scary either.

Just really really dull.

If it weren’t so warm, you would’ve thought it was late winter with how dead everything was. The trees were scaly-gray with bendy limbs and withered brown leaves.

The vaults fence must’ve blown away because it was completely gone, aside from a few random poles in the ground. Even the Vault-Tec propaganda that used to litter this area was missing. The gravel drive too, but that seemed to be hidden under a thatch of overgrowth. If you listened closely, there was still the slightest crunch of rocks under your boots.

Your street was an obstacle course of flung furniture, lamp posts, and car scraps. Shockingly, your home was still upright and in better condition compared than most, which wasn’t saying much.

But hey – at least the roof was still intact from what you could see.

The front door eventually gave way with a particularly hard shoulder jab.

Despite the silence, a familiar warmth wrapped around you when you walked through the entryway. You didn’t expect to come back here again. It felt like so long since you’d been here.

The color on the walls had faded. The floors now creaked with every step. You went over to the coat closet and slid on your favorite baby blue peacoat. The satin lining almost felt like a hug. You breathed in its comfort, along with the smell of mildew. It was warm, but you didn’t take it off. You didn’t want to forget it and spent another night shivering in the vault. You’d seriously looked everywhere for a thermostat.

As you wandered into the living room, your fingers left stripes through the dust. Majority of the picture frames were either crooked or cracked, except one. The one of your family above the mantle. You dragged over a stool and wiped away the dust and grime with your sleeve.

You stepped back and smiled at the faded image. It had been taken in this very living room during your senior –

“Hands up.” It was a man’s voice – clipped and harsh. You didn’t even hear anyone come in.

When you heard the cock of a gun, you complied.

“Turn around. Slowly. No sudden movements.”

You blinked back. There was not just one, but four very large men with guns pointed in your direction.

“Let’s make this easy - tell us where they are.” The man dead center demanded. He might’ve been the shortest, but he appeared to be the one in charge.

You glanced at the line of guns, then stared at him dumbly.

“Don’t play stupid. Where’s the rest of your group? Who’re you here with?”

“No - no one. I’m alone-”

“Bull shit!” The man in a weathered ball cap aimed his gun at your head. “Tell us!”

“I swear - I - I swear. I’m alone. I’m alone. Check. I swear.” Your voice wavered, wobbled. Your heart was pressed against your ribs.

The man in the weathered ball cap squinted at you, then quickly shook his head. “I’m not buying it.”

For a second, you thought he was about to pull the trigger. You cowered, flinched.

“Wait.” The youngest looking one of the group stepped up. “Let’s just check the house. They’d have to be in here.”

You learned his name was Benny when the leader divided them up. He’d check upstairs - Will was around the perimeter.

And Frankie - the man who almost killed you on the spot was now in charge of guarding you. Great.

At least, he moved his gun from your head back to your chest. So progress, you guessed.

When a cabinet door slammed, you instinctively flinched. His nostrils flared - his finger drummed over the trigger. One more wrong move and he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot. He’d probably watch you bleed out on this over-priced rug without any remorse.

Even though you couldn’t see his eyes under the shadowy brim of his cap, you could feel their intensity as he looked you up and down.

“Anything?” Frankie yelled.

Negative.

He rocked on his heels. “What’re you doing here?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You scoffed before you could think better of it. At least, the person in the kitchen seemed amused, letting out a snort. Frankie looked even more pissed off.

He smacked his lips, but didn’t say anything else.

“My arms hurt.”

“Okay?”

“Can I put them down?” You asked and he pursed his lips. You didn’t let him say no, and instead reasoned with him. “Come on, it’s four to one. You think I’m stupid enough to pull some move?”

“You might be.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes. “Fine, but you better keep ‘em where I can see them. Or-”

“You’ll shoot my head off? Yeah, I got it.” You clasped your hands in front of you and eyed him - happy?

He didn’t look pleased.

“Perimeters clear.” Will stepped next to Frankie and shrugged. “Wanna check her?”

Frankie grimaced, but swung the long barrel around his back.

He stalked over and you resisted the urge to shrink under his stern gaze. Somehow, he was even more intimidating up close. Broader. His face was carved with sharp angles, a chiseled nose and a strong jaw with scraggly facial hair. Even though his shadow shrouded yours, you kept a straight spine.

“All clear,” Benny joined Will. “Santi?”

Santi - the final one was named. He nodded, and you didn’t understand why they seemed so baffled.

“I told you so,” you sassed, again not thinking. You really needed to quit doing that. It would be pretty hard to save your family if you were dead.

Frankie began patting you down, smoothing over your arms and shoulders. He didn’t linger in any one place for too long, not even your chest. So, he wasn’t a creep, just a burglar.

“So, you gonna tell us what you’re doing here?” he asked and you snorted.

“Uh. This is my house.”

“Yeah, good one.”

The other three chuckled. Assholes.

Frankie pointed at the coat and you begrudgingly slid it off. Once it hit the floor, his brows lifted. His gaze quickly scanned over the tight nylon before he cleared his throat. You glanced up at the ceiling, suddenly feeling insecure. This stupid outfit left little to the imagination.

He pointed at the gun at your waist, and crooked his finger. You huffed, but handed it over and watched him deposit it into his waistband. He didn’t pat down your legs, but went to look over your backside. He immediately jolted back as if it burned him.

“Is this a vault suit?” His brows furrowed and you rolled your eyes.

“What’s it look like?” You scoffed.

He blinked and stared at you, “Where’d you get it?”

“Uh…where do you think?”

Frankie didn’t answer. Instead, he rocked back and smoothed a thumb over his bottom lip. The men behind him shared some inscrutable glances. They appeared mildly confused.

“Oh, did you guys not get one?” You glanced down at the suit and shrugged. “I thought they were pretty standard.”

Silence. Benny’s mouth gaped open like a fish.

You curiously tilted your head. “You guys are from a vault, right?”

Benny instantly shook his head, and you couldn’t believe it. Did that mean – a smile spread across your face.

“Oh my God. Are you serious?” You squealed. “Holy shit. I - oh wow. I wonder if Cait and Darcy and - okay. You gotta tell me, how exactly did you guys survive the attack?”

Benny opened his mouth, but Santi silenced him and took a small step forward. “The attack?”

You winced, instantly regretting not easing into the subject. It was probably a sensitive topic.

“You know…the bombs,” you whispered, “And look, I’m sorry if it’s too soon, and it’s okay if you don’t wanna give me all the details, but you guys gotta understand. I need to know if my - how people made it.”

“Are you-” Santi began before shaking his head. He scrubbed a palm through his unruly hair and sighed, “Are you talking about the nuclear attack?”

There was something about his tone you didn’t like. It almost sounded like he thought you were crazy. Defensively, you straightened and crossed your arms. “Well, yeah. What else would I be talking about?”

“No. No. No.” Frankie swatted the air. “You-”

“Wait,” Benny’s gaze darted from the picture above your head, then to you, then back and forth another time. “What year is it?”

Great question. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“It’s 2278,” Benny said. “August 16th, 2278.”

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