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jungxk · 4 years

Text

just one (viii)

summary: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

notes: first of all i wanna thank the people who supported me and encouraged me through one of the worst writers blocks of my life. all the messages and comments are the reason why i finally managed to post this. special thanks to @whippedforkook for helping me with the monstrous tagging process as well as giving me so much praise. and also @lonelyending for cheering me on for a literal YEAR bc thats how long i cried over this fic! this story is so special to me. we’re in the home stretch now x

warnings: mentions of illegal drug use and distribution, swearing, brief smut.

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 8k

tagging: @cutechim @benz-biarritz @gyukult @bangulin @eatersanonymous @alyssa1926 @skivv1es @a-sucker-for-them-sappy-shit @moonights @jeymuffins @juuneaux @catsukiii @andreaisaac @whatheydontunderstand @sreveles @noruls619 @henryharios @just-a-fuxked-up-kid @befriendswithj @btsbesharam @poemsandpunani @taelha @misosoup-forthesoul @jikooksmut @heart-eyedmf @the-piano-woman @angrysunshine @chaoticpaperfanhoagie @jsungshine @ci-yen @faby-montana @shinypeanutsportshero @jooniestrivia @alucards-s @cynamyngirl @jiminie-angel @myskoova @jkshoneybuns @smokintae @remmykinsff @majinbuwu @jangx2manboongx2 @potatodogs @seul-queen @alpharyth @blenxxxg @plsky @th-singularity @bapbaptothetop @hermiones-enchantment @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @euphorora @supachloe94 @jiminxjimout @ggukkieland @just-another-fic-recs-blog @jalexad

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

4 years ago

jimin hated yugyeom.

well, maybe hate was a strong word. he just didn't like talking to him, being around him, hearing his name or interacting with him on any level, social or otherwise. he really tried though, since he was one of jungkook's closest friends and still respectfully referred to him as hyung above all else. and if anything, jimin would always have a soft spot for jungkook, the kid he used to coddle when his own brother wasn't around. but having said that, there wasn't really much basis for not liking yugyeom. it was just a gut feeling jimin couldn't explain, a very subtle callousness about him only jimin could pick up on. for the most part he was just like very other mild mannered boy by day and party animal by night, but jimin still ducks when he sees him enter the library.

"fuck," he hisses under his breath, scooping up his laptop to stride behind a book shelf for good measure. because sometimes, contrary to popular belief, jimin wanted to be alone. he didn't want to make small talk or listen to someone tell him about how well they scored on their last paper or complain about their annoying girlfriend. sometimes jimin wanted to have no thoughts and listen to fleetwood mac as per his human rights. which is why he shoves into the first private study room he sees.

and not an empty one at that. there's a girl inside, sitting cross-legged in her chair at a desk with an array of dried up paint tubes and brushes surrounding open sketchbooks. you don't look annoyed or even that phased, just amused as you give him a once over before going back to painting. "on the run from solji?"

jimin blinks, back still pressed against the door. "huh?" he regards you properly. "i'm sorry, have we met before?"

"not really," you admit with a sheepish smile, which is when jimin suddenly realises that you're...attractive. "solji is in my stats class. you hooked up with her last week at some party and she told me about it."

"oh," jimin takes in your plethora of art supplies. "you don't look like a stem student."

there's a glimmer of something in your eyes, and though you hide it well jimin knows he's struck a nerve. "yeah, i get that a lot."

"it's not solji by the way," jimin clarifies. for some reason. "that i'm hiding from. just a bellend i don't have the energy for right now."

you smile. "it's fine. you don't owe me your life story."

"i do when i'm about to impose on your...study time," jimin peers through the window in the door, wincing when yugyeom enters the hallway. "what would it take for you to let me stay in here for a while?"

you pause for a second. "honestly? just be quiet and leave me alone. is that okay?"

jimin perks up, a weight leaving his chest. "perfect, actually."

[jungkook 11:42pm]: why does it say wings on it

[jungkook 11:42pm] where is it flying

[you: 11:43pm] ffs kook

[you: 11:44pm] im still on the toilet can u just hurry up

[you 11:44pm] grab some tampons too pls

[jungkook 11:46pm] fine what size pussy do u wear

[you 11:46pm] i hate u

[jungkook 11:53pm] ???? ? ? well? ????

[you 11:54pm] REGULAR

jungkook giggles at his phone, already having left the women's sanitary aisle to grab some chocolate. months later and teasing you was still bundles of fun. he knew for a fact that you were sat there with that angry pout on your face, nose crinkled. he had never bought anything like this before, but jungkook had enough brain cells to know that chocolate was another necessity for that time of the month. after grabbing a large hazelnut bar, he pauses beside the oreos before grabbing a packet of those too. just for good measure. he strides to the self checkout - because even he wasn't man enough for the cashier yet - nearly dropping his array of sanitary products and confectionary when somebody calls out his name from behind the queue.

"kook!" the voice is unmistakably yugyeom's, confirmed by the hand that clamps jungkook over the shoulder and swivels him round before he could think about hiding his socially compromising shopping items. it takes a second for yugyeom to notice, doing a double take at the pads atop his small tower of goods. he holds back a laugh, balancing a bottle of gin in one hand while he waves back at some friends to continue. they were clearly making their pit stop before a night out, probably pre's if they still start as late as jungkook remembers. with his hair styled and expensive cologne lingering, jungkook almost forgets he probably looks unrecognisable in his sweats and cotton-fresh hoodie. friday nights weren't for cuddling. still, yugyeom's smile is welcoming and familiar. "got the munchies? and maybe also a uterus?"

"shut up," jungkook grumbles, averting his eyes. he shifts to his other foot uncomfortably. "my friend just needed a favour, that's all."

"uh huh," yugyeom gives him a teasing look. "is this friend the reason why i barely saw you at jin's the other week?"

jungkook blinks back at him. "wait, you were at that party? i had no idea!" a boyish smile breaks over his face. "why didn't you call me? i haven't seen you since-"

"minseok-hyung's new years eve party," yugyeom throws his head back with a laugh. "remember how we ended up on a boat after the ball dropped and-"

"spent all of new years day detained by the coast guard!" jungkook finishes with a mischievous cackle of his own, nearly dropping the tampons in the process. "fuck, that was so much fun! we need to meet up again, i haven't been out with the guys in so long."

"well no wonder," he quips a brow at jungkook's shopping again. "word got out you're a family man but i didn't believe it. until now, that is."

jungkook's smile falls. "what do you mean?"

yugyeom looks at him for a second, confused by jungkook's surprise. yugyeom was never quite as diplomatic as namjoon or yoongi, to put it lightly. and definitely nowhere near as accomodating as jimin. which is why his next words make jungkook's back stiffen. "bro, look at yourself. you got dairy milk in one hand and tampax in the other. on a friday night. the next time i see you i wouldn't be shocked if you had a baby buggy and a mortgage." still, yugyeom throws him an apologetic look. like a mouse caught in a trap. "face it, kook. you're old news."

"what? that's not true," his brows furrow unhappily. "i don't know what you're talking about. it's not like she's my..."

he can't say the word, but it hangs between them like a dead weight.

"yeah, right," the condescending look on yugyeom's face was starting to agitate him. "you totally blanked us at jin's after she showed up. not even just jin's..." he thinks twice about holding his tongue, but as always, decides against it. "i don't know you, jungkook. whoever this new jungkook is. it's been months. you used to hit us up and be independent and spontaneous and wild and now you're just...someone's boyfriend.

"stop fucking saying that," jungkook snaps, all visible signs of friendliness gone.

"why?" a beat. "do you even use a wrap with her anymore?"

jungkook splutters, heat rushing to his ears and hands in a stinging combination of anger and embarrassment. "how is that any of your business? the fuck are you asking me something like that, as if you-"

"thought so," yugyeom looks away from him with a sigh. if anything, yugyeom knew never to overstay his welcome but that clearly backfired tonight. "whatever, jungkook," he looks over his shoulder at him. "guess you're the last one to find out you're officially married."

"you're ridiculous," jungkook scoffs. "all this over condoms? grow up, yugyeom."

"only couples do it raw," yugyeom turns away from him, alcohol in tow as he waves a hand over his shoulder to join his friends like jungkook was nothing but a lost cause. "you would remember that if you still had game."

jungkook stands there, dumbfounded while the group of boys exit the store noisily but he can't hear a thing. the siren that had been itching the back of his mind all this time was suddenly there at full force, right between his eyes. the glaring truth that yugyeom might be right makes his knees buckle. all those rules jungkook once had, all those measures he kept in place to protect his liberty, to prevent this very occurence - where were they? what happened to them? as the sweet and accommodating counterpart to jimin, why had you never complied? though, the blame wasn't on your hands alone. he got complacent, comfortable. lenient. and now without even realising he was here, a scene from a romcom in the middle of the night, with nothing to say for himself but fuck. the realisations wouldn't stop racing, one after another on the conveyer belt of his anxiety.

the photos on his phone; mostly you. time spent, usually with you. the portfolio for his latest photography module also had some resemblance to your interests. charcoal pencils, night drives, orchids. like the ones you always drew on any scrap of paper lying around. now that he thinks about it, he's seen nothing but your orchids for months. and not just that - you wore his clothes sometimes too. his bathroom had your toothbrush, contraceptive pills and coconut shampoo. his closest friends, his hyungs...not one of them was devoid of affection for you. he wasn't even confident that if the choice was presented, they would still pick him over you.

by the time jungkook finishes paying and practically sprints to his truck in a daze, he can hardly keep himself from shaking. he palms the wheel compulsively, he could feel the sweat in his sideburns, hoodie suddenly suffocating him. it smelled of you.

and then, like a final curtain call: was he just your latest fixer-upper project? some good girl wet dream to play out in the wake of your emotionally traumatic past? a slap in the face to seokjin, maybe, and nothing more? when you were done, when he was out of your system, when you knew his taste by heart and had nothing new left to try - would you stay? did you even know how to?

did he?

jungkook starts the engine. he drives to your door, drops your bag of snacks and pads on the porch, and texts you before leaving. he does not go inside.

"you sure you'll be okay with just the boys?"

you scoff at seulgi when she pins you with a worrying look, taking some of her clothes out of her bag to re-fold them just so you had something to do with your hands. jisoo had already left for the long weekend with her family, so there was no one there to fill up the empty space between your awakward reply. you didn't know how to tell the girls that jungkook hadn't contacted you in nearly a month. and even though he was a notable flight risk from the beginning, you couldn't help but feel like there was hostility there. every now and again he'd at least send a nude or have a quick phone call when he was drunk or high at three in the morning, but you hadn't heard a peep from him. you couldn't stand the idea of someone you cared about harbouring comtempt for you, but the fear of reaching out and somehow making the situation worse outweighed it tenfold.

you look up to see seulgi still staring at you with concern. "of course i'll be fine! they're boys, not piranhas."

"at least piranhas contribute our ecosystem. boys just cause problems for the hell of it," seulgi lays a hand on the crown of your head like a berating big sister, swivelling you to look at her in your fit of giggles. the urge to nestle you under blankets like a baby bird made her chest heave, and you could tell. "i'm serious. if jimin tries anything, call me immediately okay?"

"jimin?" you snort. "out of a room full of delinquents, my ex, and taehyung, you're worried about jimin of all people?"

seulgi wrinkles her nose. "god, when you say it like that its like i'm throwing you to the dogs." she pauses. "something's up with jimin. i don't know what it is, but he's...off."

you tilt your head innocently, remembering the brief interaction you had with hobi at seokjin's party. you had been so caught up in jungkook - or lack thereof - you hadn't thought to press him about it afterwards. in truth, jimin remained as...jimin as ever. if he was acting differently you certainly couldn't tell. "you think so?"

"mmm," she leans on the lip of the open suitcase thoughtfully. "but maybe with jungkook there, he'll behave himself."

you gulp, fiddling with his watch on your wrist anxiously. "maybe."

you nearly yelp when you feel a big hand swivel around your waist, bucking into the kitchen counter reflexively. jungkook always did this before rubbing his boner against your ass, but the light scent of citrus and short squeeze lets you know immediately that its taehyung. hoseok, jimin, namjoon and yoongi were still in the living room playing video games, giving taehyung the perfect opening to intercept you. namjoon and yoongi had insisted that you come over to their place after finding out you'd be alone for the weekend, and you had completely refused before taehyung's coaxing. and of course, jimin's persuasive nudging. even though you felt safe and relaxed here, it felt wrong to be in jungkook's friends' place without him. almost like a breaching of an unspoken boundary.

and clearly, taehyung picked up on your discomfort by the way he stared at you so softly. his back was to the sink, his sillhouette particularly long and lean this evening. "you need to lighten up, princess. you keep looking over your shoulder so much it's making me nervous!"

your visibly droop with a sigh. "i'm sorry tae. i've had a lot on my mind lately, and..."

he claps his hands on your shoulders, teeth peeking through his grin. "you're not doing anything illegal by being here without jungkook."

you wince at his name. "have you always been able to read my mind like this?"

"absolutely," taehyung's brown eyes look so rich up close. "you're allowed to have friends that are also his friends, because - and try to stick with me on this - relationships between people are allowed to be independant from the primary circles they met in. mind boggling concept, i know."

you wack him on the chest until he laughs. "stop making fun of my anxious thought processes! its called mental illness, sherlock! i can't help it!"

his nose scrunches cutely, enjoying your first fiery outburst of the day. "whatever. i call it not getting laid for a month and losing critical thinking abilities from it."

you gape at him indignantly while taehyung roars with laughter. "you're such a dickhead," you hiss through gritted teeth, yanking his hair and jabbing your fingers in his sides the way you would with jimin during a tickle fight. "whores have feelings too, taehyung! whores have feelings too!"

you both fall about with laughter, knocking over half the snacks on the counter in the process which only makes the pair of you laugh even more. it's such childish chaos trying to clean up the mess on the tiny kitchen floor that neither of you notice the front door open, or the gust of metaphorical and literal wind that follows. watching taehyung trying to salvage a bag of broken crisps is just so funny that the presence of an another voice in the living room goes unregistered, as do the footsteps leading up the hallway to the kitchen, so you have no time to brace yourself or properly pull yourself together with you see-

"...jungkook."

yours and taehyung's heads snap to the doorway. jungkook stands there with almost complete lack of emotion on his face to the pair of you kneeling in crumbs and napkins. there's a brief pause where the tension in your eye contact alone was so strong that it felt wrong to breathe. but it is shortlived. jungkook tiptoes over you like spilled milk, reaching for a glass of water. you and taehyung lock eyes while the tap runs in the awkward silence. "hey. you okay?"

"um," you're not sure whether to stand up, hug him, look at him, or even face him. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine."

he nods politely. "hyung?"

even taehyung looks visibly uncomfortable. "i'm good."

"cool. see you later," he says, downing the glass impressively fast before leaving the room just as fast as he entered it.

you and taehyung stare at each other again, not understanding why you both feel like kids caught eating cake before dinner. you could feel the sweat pricking at your back from the realisation. jungkook had no idea you'd be here, and given that interaction he'd probably want to leave now. there was always the inkling woven between his radio silence that he was done with you, but you never let yourself take it seriously out of logic. because how could months of passion and tenderness and honesty be undone so irrevocably like that? it didn't make sense. you hadn't changed. you were the same girl he hit on relentlessly and chased against all odds. so what was different now?

"____," taehyung calls your name gently, and it's only then you realise you're already up and trailing after jungkook into the living room. when you walk in he's already putting his shoes on to leave again, barely making eye contact with you while he chats absently to his hyungs so he can look busy. the four boys on the large sofa can only reply wearily, eyes darting between the pair of you like a firework was about to blow to soon. and it was.

you could feel it in your throat, under your breast bone, bubbling up your stomach. "wait, jungkook. um...h-how have you been? i haven't heard from you in-"

"i've been good," he keeps tying and re-tying his laces without looking up. "super busy. you know how it is."

his curtness makes you flinch. this same time last month jungkook used to kiss you senseless before he had both feet in the door. he'd ring the doorbell incessantly like a child and greet you with the biggest, toothiest grin you had ever seen. he'd make fun of your bed head and squeeze your cheeks until you'd snap at him. and now when he looked at you he hated every second of it. your mother had the same look. your eyes start to burn involuntarily. "yeah, i do. how is uni? your final project is due soon, right? what theme did you pick in the end?"

"the one i told you about," he stands up abruptly. "sorry, noona. something came up. i'll see you arou-"

"something came up?" you step closer to him. "something came up the second you saw my face? or did you really just trek all the way to your hyungs' place for a glass of water, jungkook?"

jungkook stiffens, but is determined not to lose face. and it's difficult to do under your big, accusatory eyes and jimin's death stare at his back. the whole room was waiting for his response, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets resolutely. "i needed to see yoongi hyung, but i can come another time."

you fold your arms. "well it's clearly important, and you're here now. so don't let me stop you."

"but you will stop me," jungkook snaps. "that's the problem."

"kook-ah," yoongi warns quietly, but he took one look at your face and knew the damage was done. jimin was already standing up, circling around the back of the sofa towards you. the red lights were all there; your watery eyes, your trembling hands. every breath you took looked difficult for you to complete and only jimin noticed.

"what are you talking about?" you squint. it takes you a second to understand; yoongi's guilty expression, jungkook's indifference. "oh, you're fucking kidding me." your resolve breaks for a second turning away only to glare back at jungkook with so much fire you can hardly stand it. "you're selling again? are you insane, jungkook?"

"see," jungkook's eyes are stony. "i knew you'd get this way."

"what other way am i supposed to get?" his lack of response only infuriates you more. it felt disrespectful. "jungkook, you're not a kid anymore. if you get caught with drugs the consequences are serious! forget the potential jail time, you could get kicked out of university, it would go on your record forever and-"

"stop talking to me like i'm a kid!"

"then stop acting like one!" you hate raising your voice, but it keeps climbing without your approval. "did you think about this for even five minutes? this isn't like just going to juvie like before and being done with it jungkook. your hyungs can't bail you out of everything."

"this is a lot of talk for someone who lapped up those fancy paints without a second thought," jungkook says darkly. his eyes aren't like you remember, his face solemn and near unrecognisable. "or did you think that getting that kind of money overnight is only something that's possible through daddy's credit card?"

dread blooms like a garden inside you. "that's...that's how you bought the paint set?"

"welcome to the real world," he quips. "as if selling overpriced weed to a bunch of pick-me-freshmans is considered a crime against humanity to anyone but you."

"you think that's why i'm yelling at you right now?" your voice was growing hoarse, desperate. "you think that's the problem i have with you being literal drug dealer, jungkook?"

he hates it. the sweltering silence, the judgmental eyes digging into his back, the slow realisation that the tears in your eyes were not at him but for him. jungkook's ears ring enough to make him sway on the spot if his feet weren't planted so firmly on the dingy carpet, this metaphorical ground. he couldn't shake the feeling that his lifestyle was only an issue now because of you, how he never felt a shred of guilt about any of this shit until he met you. and if there was anything that jungkook never responded well to, it was pity. and he could feel it from every person in the room, all people that that once cherished and coddled him until you came along. he swallows, throat dry from the way he couldn't look at you knowing what he was going to say next.

"you're embarrassing yourself, noona. you're not my girlfriend and you never were, so stop acting like it."

cotton. it's very faint, under the layers of conflicting cologne and beer and smoke, but jungkook still smelled of cotton while he spat acid. nobody could speak, even though jungkook never raised his voice let alone a hand to you, it still hit like a slap in the face. it sunk into the walls, your clothes, suddenly every hair on your body felt heavy with it. dirty. the shame came first, the humiliation next. and then the sorrow, the dread, and finally the defeat. you knew the stages well by now, and they were cycling through you like clockwork. how foolish you were, to make the same mistake again. nobody dared to move, everyone but jungkook staring at you in denial and horror. they couldn't believe their eyes when you nod steadily, bowing your head to the floor.

jimin is already slotting himself between you, his jaw tight. "that's enough, kook. just leave already."

"no," you stop him, unnervingly resigned. that single word cuts through all six men with ease. "he's right." you step around jimin, closing the space between you and jungkook. for a brief moment he wonders if you'll actually hit him, but somehow watching you unclasp his watch from your wrist and drop it on the coffee table in front of him is far worse. the sound seems to ring like church bells, definitive and umistakable. "you're right, i'm not your girlfriend. you win jungkook."

they all watch you leave in dismay, listen to the door closing softly behind you. within a second jimin sprints after you, calling your name, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. jungkook's stare could bore a hole into the abandoned watch on the table, still ticking away like nothing changed. like his eyes weren't burning, lightheaded at the realisation that he would never wear a watch again let alone the one he put on you.

to an outsider, you looked like you were coping well considering you just got dumped in front of all your friends. but jimin knew that face. your stony eyes, lips pulled thin as if to seal inside the collapse of a monument. you took the tea he offered, and then his arms, your face finding his chest with ease. muscle memory. his torso was a tad shorter than jungkook's, his heart closer to your mouth as if the steady thumps were asking for a kiss of acknowledgement. every time you close your eyes you could see jungkooks face, hard and unforgiving and nothing like the man you trusted all this time. but it wasn't a new expression; you parents looked at you similarly the last time you saw them. it was the look of someone who had no regrets cutting all ties. and now, jungkook was behind them in a lost list of people who chose to be strangers over loving you.

jimin sighs when you cry into his chest, brushing the back of your head gently. he had been ready for this for months, but he still hated to see you this way. again. it made his bones itch, his skin crawl uncomfortably every time you weeped. the only time he considered violence was when you were crying. but he knew what to do, laying down across the sofa so you could curl up into a ball next him, head on his bicep and face smushed into the crook of his shoulder. you used to cry like this for hours and hours, his arm familiar with the prickle of pins and needles. but it was the only place you felt safe. tucked into jimin's side is where you would always belong, and that truth was more glaringly obvious than ever now.

"lets get something to eat," he offers eventually, hand craddling the crown of your head like a child. jimin's other hand on your hip is warm and heavy when he pats you soothingly. in your episodes, you responded well to touch. "what about thai food?"

"not hungry," you grumble against him.

"we could make something together?" he peers down at your lack of response. "come on, babe. you gotta eat something. you didn't even have breakfast-"

"why am i so stupid?" you whisper, a fresh bout of tears welling up.

jimin rubs your thigh. "it's not your fault."

"yes it is. jungkook gave me plenty of red flags, and i ignored all of them-"

"oh, i meant you being stupid."

you scoff. "cheers."

"what?" jimin cocks a brow when you lift your head to look up at him. he wets his lips and you follow the swipe of his tongue thoughtlessly, distracted enough by his touch and proximity that you take a second to digest his words. "it's not like any of this exactly came as a surprise. you ignored me, remember? wanted to flex your big girl pants."

you pull away from him and sit up, forcibly shutting out the daze that jimin routinely puts you under. "what's wrong with you? can't you be polite and wait for a couple hours before laying into me like a normal person? jesus, jimin."

"so let me get this straight," jimin sits up, watching your back as you sit away from him. "you're mad because i'm not telling you what you want to hear?"

"no," you say, head shaking. "i'm not mad. i'm upset because i came here to be comforted by my friend and you're just making me feel worse."

"what do you want me to say, ____? that i had high hopes from the start?" jimin pushes his hair back, brows now at a sharp incline from frustration. "i told you starting something with jungkook was trouble but you didn't listen. why should i feed your victim complex when all i've done is try to help you?"

"victim complex?" you repeat, standing up slowly. the sudden steadiness of your voice causes jimin to panic.

"not like that. don't take it like that, it's just," he's suddenly before you, his warm hands palming up your arms warmly. "i didn't wanna see you get like this and it happened anyway, is all i'm saying." he sighs when your scowl doesn't let up. "if hobi hyung hadn't have given up so easy, then maybe…maybe this would never have happened. maybe if i had been harsher with him then you would have-"

"what are you talking about?" you ask quietly, searching jimin's face. "give up so easy? what's that supposed to mean?"

he looks away, hands slipping off you. "it's nothing."

"jimin."

he struggles to look at you, tongue in cheek. his lips purse for a moment, pink like roses. he's wearing that navy jumper you like. "look, it's not a big deal. he wasn't supposed to fuck you or anything, just take you out for a while. get your mind off kookie, show you a nice time."

your blood runs cold. "what?"

jimin's expression softens. "it's not as bad as it sounds-"

"really?" your voice is sharp, sharper than he's ever heard it. you recoil as if you had been struck for the second time today. "because it sounds like you asked some guy to keep me occupied like i'm a fucking dog. all because you can't stand the idea of me being within a meter of jungkook-"

he steps in, but you step back. "you know that's not true, _."

"don't i?" you scoff, covering your face in disbelief. "jimin, you've been hellbent against me even looking at the guy since day fucking one."

"because i didn't want you to get hurt!" jimin counters, eyes downcast. "i know, okay? i know how much of a dick it makes me sound, but its not like it hurt you when you had no idea! hoseok broke it off before you even knew about it so why-"

"because it's worse," you turn away from him. "you tried to control me. choose what's best for me because you think you know better than i do. sound familiar?"

his jaw sets, and it's like you can hear the twine snap in his head, the percussion of his heartbeat above yours even though he doesn't close the space between you. jimin stares at you for a long minute before drawing in a thin breath. "fine," he steps in, and you can't look away. "you want me to say it? fine. i'll say it."

suddenly the air is lace thin around you as you stare at him, waiting. jimin looks off somewhere else, somewhere you can't reach. "don't tell me you haven't thought about it, because i know you have. if i have you must have too. and lately its all i can think about - being with you, holding you, being the one who gets to touch you. and yeah, maybe it took having to see you with jungkook for me to realise how much i want all that, i put my hands up. but you have no idea what's it like to watch the person you love most get toyed around with by a time bomb like that. i've seen jungkook go through girls like underwear and i love him, god i love him, but even the idea of you being one of those wasted girls sitting outside a party crying over his sorry ass makes my fucking ears ring."

"j-jimin…" you whisper, but you have nothing to say. your hands shake.

"you deserve more than that, ____. you deserve more than waiting around for booty calls or living up to what the next guy wants. from jungkook, hoseok, anyone. you deserve someone's devotion and yeah, maybe all this time i've been too much of a pussy to give it. maybe all this time i was tiptoeing around my feelings for you because i knew if i admitted to myself that i loved you - if i admitted i was just like every other guy - i'd actually set the bar for something other than disappointment. id actually have to step up, and i didn't know if i could do it. i still don't. but if it has to be someone…it should be me."

suddenly he's holding your hands, calming the tremble that rattles them. his words bunch up together in your ears, the meaning lost amidst your awe. "jimin….jimin what are you saying? where is all this coming from, i don't...i don't understand wh-"

"i'm saying," he cups your face. "choose me." he pulls you in. so, so close. "choose me, not jungkook. not anyone else. me."

and there's a part of you that has already caved. that's already kissing him, melting into his arms like you've wanted to for so, so long. you're falling back onto the couch with him in a fit of giggles, curling back into his chest to hide your watery eyes, asking him why the fuck he took so long. you chat together between teasing kisses, pour your hearts out, maybe cry a little. later you would make tea and order pad thai and watch the office all night and fall asleep together in the living room well past dawn and then-

you close your eyes. "i can't."

"you can," jimin says, so passionately you shudder. his brown eyes are teaming with too much determination and ardour for his own good, and you both know it. its difficult to grapple with how huge a risk he's taking, because jimin never takes risks. it made the whole situation seem dire. "you know you can, ____. it's us. there's no one like us."

you don't know how you're not crying yet. you only have jimin to hold onto, hands balled in his shirt without knowing if you're about to push him away or pull him in forever. "maybe back then. maybe if you'd have said all this before," you feel empty, the beat of your pulse suddenly strong in your fingertips. "but it doesn't matter anymore."

he shakes his head in denial, his determination palpable. "of course it does-"

"i'm in love with him," you say. to jimin. to yourself. to the world, finally. "i'm in love with jungkook." holding jimin's stare isn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. "you know if you'd have done all this a few months ago…if you'd have just...i was always yours without question, jimin. and you knew it." it's his turn to bristle under the strain of your voice. "jungkook isn't perfect. i'll be the first one to admit that. he's made me cry, he fucks up, he makes mistakes. but he's never lied to me. he never made decisions for me. he never passed judgement on what i should or shouldn't do with my life. something that i never thought i wouldn't able to say about you, too."

there's a brief moment where everything stops. neither of you can believe what you just said. jimin watches you, frozen in his place as you take your bag, eyes glittering with tears when he calls for you. suddenly he's the time bomb he feared becoming, the panic in his eyes lighting them up like fire crackers. for the first time in his life, he stumbles over his words, and then his feet when you reach for the door, all composure lost. he was unravelling like a tapestry in front of you, never to be repaired, and he could feel it. "____. ____, please," jimin chokes, his cheeks blotchy. "i wanted to protect you, i was just trying to help. don't go. please don't go. i was trying to help you."

"no. you were trying to have me." you say, closing the door behind you.

you have no idea what time it is when you hear the bell ring incessantly.

it had been hours since you'd returned home from jimin's, but there was no way for you to keep track when your only priority was just keeping yourself afloat. you turned your phone off, drew the curtains, and resolved to alternate between sitting in seulgi and jisoo's rooms until they came back. you didn't know what else to do. when you weren't crying you were hyperventilating, and when that stopped the absence of emotion was so powerful you could barely keep your eyes open. you were exhausted but could not sleep. starving but could not eat. it was a miracle you even made it down the stairs, using what little strength you had to yank it open without even thinking about who could be on the other side in the middle of the fucking night. but at this point, you would gladly take a serial killer over jimin or jungkook.

"taehyung," you breathe when you take in his face, relieved. you must look like absolute shit because he scans your face and winces.

"jimin told me," he says, the apology in his voice and expression was almost painful to register. "he told me everything. ____, i'm so sorry. i should have told you about the hoseok thing, i just thought it would be worse coming from me, and then i tried to force jimin into confessing but then he didn't because he's jimin, and now-"

"you're only allowed to come inside if you stop apologising," you say weakly, voice haggered from the hours of crying.

taehyung's pouty expression almost makes you smile with how cute he looks, gingerly stepping over the threshhold. "i really am sorry though."

"for what," you say monotonously, closing the door behind him while he takes off his shoes. "my inexplicably terrible taste in men? my uncanny ability to get manipulated by literally anyone who shows me a scrap of affection? or my absolutey shredded-to-shit attachment style thats barely intact let alone functioning healthily? after hoppping between the first two for a few hours i'd personally go for the latter. but whatever."

"please shut up," taehyung sighs, bringing you into his arms before you could have a second thought about it. "you need to amp up the misandry in this context. a lot of this had nothing to do with you and everything to do jimin and jungkook."

you're too tired to open your eyes, snuggling into the softness of taehyung's chest. you’re too exhausted to argue. "where did you learn the word misandry? have you been reading?"

"yeah," you can hear his big, pleased grin. "i know you and the girls have been calling me a himbo behind my back."

"affectionately," you add, peering up at him. he wipes the wetness off your cheeks, moving upstairs to your room with your hand in his. he fetches you a glass of water before putting you into bed like he's paid to do it. taehyung was the cuddliest person you had ever met, but you had rarely seen him dote on anyone. "girls love himbos. it's a compliment."

"not all girls," he mutters when he returns from the bathroom with a glass of water. "drink this, would you? you look so dry it's making me itchy."

you do as he says with a roll of your eyes. "what do you mean?" you finish your water with a big gulp. "jisoo loves dumb guys, what are you talking about?"

taehyung looks away from you, bottom lip rolling up under his teeth so fast you barely catch it. he pulls up your desk chair next to your bed, thinking long and hard before meeting your eyes again. "i don't mean jisoo."

you don't understand at first, but after staring at his face for a long minute your stomach drops. "don't. don't you fucking dare," another beat of silence. you rip the covers off you to scamble to your knees, grab your pillow and hurl it at taehyung's head. "taehyung, please don't tell me that the one remaining, healthy relationship i have with a man has also been shot to shit because i swear to god i'm gonna-"

"it's not a big deal," he says firmly, and he really does mean it. taehyung catches your wrists when you lunge at him, effectively ending your outburst before it can begin. he keeps hold of them while he stares into your eyes, watching the way they fill up with a fresh bout of tears. "i've had a crush on you for a while, so what? it's not anyone's business but mine so don't worry about it."

you try not to scream at him. "how long?"

"...since the start." he shrugs. "it's not like i could have done anything anyway. with jimin around. he’d never have it."

"but...! but..." you splutter, the highlight reel of your friendship suddenly marred before your eyes. "but you let me talk to you about boys! you gave me advice with hobi and jimin and jungkook and...! you encouraged jimin to confess to me. and the whole thing with jisoo?"

he wets his lips guiltily. "jisoo is a nice girl. i like her, but...not like you. i've always liked you."

you shake your head in horror, your face crumpling. bile rose in your throat. "so all of that...playing with my friend like that. was just to get to me?"

"listen to me," taehyung says firmly, gripping your wrists to make you look at him again. he's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on yours, and you never realised how large taehyung's torso was compared to yours before. he could have smothered you, but he didn't. in all senses. "the way jimin and jungkook handled their feelings is on them, just like how this is on me. it doesn't matter if i'm fucking you or not, you're my friend and i'll always want people to do right by you. and that includes me."

there was nothing else to say, so taehyung wordlessly wipes your face again and fetches you more water before retreating to sleep on the couch downstairs. all the while you sat there in your bed, confused and bewildered and thoughtful. the same bed jungkook fucked you on. the same bed jimin held you in. out of all the men in your life, taehyung was the only one who treated his feelings for you with reverence. there wasn't one interaction you could think of where he made his feelings clear, where he even hinted towards wanting something more. if he hadn't have said anything tonight, in the wake of one of the most emotionally tumultuous days of your life, you would still be in the dark about it all. and that was the scariest part. you didn't know anyone else who hadn't let their feelings for you effect how they treated you. so ultimately, it was possible.

and jimin and jungkook chose not to do that. but taehyung did.

taehyung did.

when you finally pad downstairs after hours of ruminating, jisoo's bedroom door is wide open. and that's who you should be thinking about now - your friend and sister jisoo - as the sky begins to lighten with the signs of morning. you hadn't slept for over twenty four hours, you were hungry and thirsty, delirious from the whirlwind of losing the two most important men in your life in one day. but still, you are drawn to taehyung. taehyung, who never asked anything of you. taehyung, who was as silent as he was selfless this whole time. taehyung who routinely put what he wanted aside in favour of what was best for you. taehyung, who protected you without needing credit or recognition for it. taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung-

"taehyung," you whisper scraping your nails through his hair. his eyes fluttered open, twisting his head to face you as you hovered above him. he could barely see you in the darkness. "taehyung, wake up."

"what is it?" he croaks, sitting up with half-lidded eyes and a yawn. he doesn't know how to read the expression on your face. he swings his legs off the sofa in a sitting position, wearing nothing but his boxers and tee, visibly alarmed. "what happened? are you okay?"

you take his face in your hands and kiss him.

taehyung stiffens against you, breath drawn thin. you pull away to gauge his expression, desperately searching his eyes in the darkness. for discomfort, disapproval, anything negative at all. the absolute ardour you find instead could knock you down if taehyung didn't reach for your neck, kissing you again. you whine at the feel of his tongue, having no idea where such sudden and intense arousal was coming from. when you pull away with shaky limbs, you climb onto his thick thighs so he can feel your wetness through his boxers. taehyung grunts at the sensation, and again when you kiss him passionately and without abandon. the sweet girl every guy he knew was agonising over, suddenly in his lap. he's barely had his tongue down your throat for ten minutes and you're already rocking into him, his erection betraying his resolve.

it's better than he dreamed.

"taehyung," you gasp, palming him now. he groans when he pulls away to look at your mouth, glistening with his saliva when you take his hand and guide it down to your arousal. "please."

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook au #bts x reader #bts au #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin au #bts fic #jungkook fic #jimin fic #jungkook college au #jimin college au #bts college au #myfic

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dappersheep · 4 years

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Food Fantasy: An Analysis on what killed a Golden Goose (2/3)

Welcome back. Before we get started, disclaimers again! I do not own the game or its characters, nor do I claim to know the history and future of the game. What I am entitled to are the thoughts and opinions written within this post. You may or may not agree with the points spoken of here. This post also remains untagged from the main foofan tag. Only my followers will see this.

We are now on the second part, so let's go forward under the cut!

Elex

And here we have our beloved global publisher that most of seem to have Stockholm Syndrome for. Don't lie, at least half of us are still playing this damned game due to sunken cost fallacy, sunken time fallacy and the cute/hot jpegs.

In 2018, everything started out fine. Sure, maybe we had some translation mishaps here and there -coughwe'llgettothatwreckagelatercough- but overall, Elex was running the game fairly well. Rewards were on time, we had active social media and support, and a discord was set up!

Hint: Please note I use quite a bit of sarcasm in most everything I say.

And then somewhere along that road, things got derailed. And I mean it like, we're in the midst of a trainwreck in slow motion and we've only cleared the initial collision and still hurtling forward or backward into a steel wreckage ticking inferno.

Problems started cropping up as early as late 2018, just a few months after the game was launched in July.

⦁ Art contest mishaps. You know when you hold an art contest on Facebook out of all places with its shitty tagging system, you're bound to have entries lost to the void, people forced to register an FB account just to participate (seriously, who even has an FB account that isn't just there to appease family members?) and having to wrestle with figuring out how FB's tagging system works. Add to that the panel of judges happen to be Elex staff who don't have a good eye for good artwork (we actually had a kiddy figure drawing win over a well drawn one during the last contest!) and that they ALSO weren't very good at organizing such contests on FB... well, we had several grievances over that.

⦁ Region blocked FB announcements. Strangely enough, I stopped getting announcements around Father's Day of 2019 while everyone else outside of SEA kept getting updates. Turns out that someone on Elex's staff really didn't like SEA players or was just really bad at fixing the settings for the group and never bothered to revert it back. It didn't matter in the long run though, because...

⦁ Abandoned social media platforms. FooFan Twitter, FooFan Facebook... they all floated slowly into the void and was never heard from again. And this was before the 2020 pandemic.

⦁ Remember what I said about Discord? Yeah, apparently, they opened one up a little too early and the staff in charge of it knew zero about how to setup and mod a discord community, and didn't even have the manpower needed to mod the influx of members that came in! Suffice to say, they had to get help from top players and mods from the FB groups to come in and sort things out because someone kept pinging @ everyone every few seconds other than the usual chaos that comes from a server with no filters and people trying to turn the discord into Global Chat 2.0, minus Russian hours.

⦁ Also in line with the point about abandoned social media platforms, they've also mostly abandoned the discord too and only pop in once in a while to check the bug reports or lost accounts. You have a slightly better chance of response with the in-game support. Only slightly. And there's a running joke with several variations on the main discord that the Owner account of the discord server was manned by an intern-kun who never bothered to pass it on to the next unfortunate soul left to maintain this game.

⦁ Favoritism. Funtoy is also guilty of this but they don't publish the game for Global. If you're a top spender the likes of maxing out your cash rebates within the three months or so and you kept spending even beyond that, Elex could possibly invite you to a funky little club where your voice is more important than say... 99% of the playerbase. On top of that, if you keep spending, you could technically also ask for stuff like getting this frame over that frame, or well.... delay certain features from coming to Global for over a year. Now you can simp AND be heard! (Note: In 2021, it's possible that that club may be dead too, as all things shall be)

⦁ SJW Friendly. I don't know if Funtoy themselves have anything to also do with this particular decision... but it's saying something that after a certain little tiddy tantrum from the community side, Elex decided not to announce anything about a certain event's fate and when asked by it by other parties (not me) they either lie through their teeth, or beat around the bush with a non-answer.

⦁ Partial translations, mistranslations. Now, I understand that a lot of Chinese grammar and semantics are confusing to translate properly into several other languages, but you'd think Elex would have given their translators more context to the character or the mechanic to avoid such mistranslations that later set off gender debates or worded the skill/artifact description a little clearer. That is... unless Elex really is hands-off trying to get to know this IP from the start and only gave it the most bare minimum of English where they can cut costs for it, so people can understand it 'well enough' to throw money at an obviously not beta-read quality game.

⦁ No translations. Yes we do have certain parts of the game that are in Chinese since forever since xx patch. Some characters' voiceline texts are still in chinese, especially during the Pledge scenes. More recent artifacts are also in chinese with no announced translation in sight. And don't get me started on the Food Soul bios, or lack thereof.

⦁ Delayed events. Prime example? We had weeks of minor events/no events and still Elex managed to eff everything up for our second Anniversary in July 2020. We ended up getting the Croissant event in late August with barely any apologies and compensation for the delay... and this likely would have never arrived as 'early' as it did if people hadn't been railing about where our Anniversary event was. As it stands, we are several minor events behind CN, at least a year and a half's worth behind. I know Global had requested heavily for more spaced out events (to save resources, not that it actually worked with all the nerfed rewards we get) compared to CN but this is extremely ridiculous.

⦁ Delayed permanent features. Hm... Guild Wars, Sky Tower, Bar, that Wuchang Fish Showdown... several Quality of Life updates.... that new permanent pool update... Food Souls still missing their JP voice packs... Food Soul Bios... *slowly ticking off more than I have fingers and toes*

⦁ Customer Support is whack. You'd be lucky if you got someone who understood your problem/inquiry right off the bat AND did something about it efficiently. You'd be luckier if they answered you honestly if you were inquiring about event updates or other buggy features or reporting hackers.

⦁ The Great Turkey and Apple Incident of 2020. Well, if you were around for that little SNAFU during the Turkey re-run event, you'd know a percentage of people suddenly got logged out of their accounts and had a baller of a time trying to get their accounts back. You were especially unfortunate if you were playing on an iOS account because even if you did bind it (like a responsible player should be doing), you probably still wouldn't get it back in time to rank properly during Turkey. Some Android players also experienced this, but it wasn't as bad as what the iOS players experienced. And then there was the compensation mishap for that too.

⦁ Hacker-chan and not-so-uwu Hacker-teme. Hacker-chan is a meme. Hacker-chan was a harmless player who regularly topped in Top Showdown every week for a time to send a message to Elex just how easy it is to hack the game in certain rankings and invited Elex to ban them every time, just to test how competent Elex is. In the end, Elex has proven to be incompetent and also glaringly stupid about how their published game works. Hacker-teme is a collective of individuals over time who have cheated the game during important ranking events or in somewhat important permanent battles. If you tried to report a Hacker-teme with evidence to prove it -and trust me, people repeatedly have-, Elex would tell you that they're not cheating and/or lie through their teeth that they're 'investigating the case' and then not do anything about it and let them keep their event ranking and thus get the rewards while someone who actually worked hard/whaled hard to get the spot gets denied. In one case, they believe that if an account has rebate points and the player level is at least around level 80, then the hacker-teme is obviously playing the game fairly. Never mind that their units happened to have low to no artifact nodes opened, and not high in ascension.

And that is the end of the Elex saga. I'm aware there's likely more things about Elex that I've missed, but feel free to add on to this analysis post with your own thoughts.

The last part of this trilogy is probably what many of us are waiting for, for obvious reasons.

#ravings of a madman #food fantasy but not tagged right

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roguish-gallery · 4 years

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Rogues + Internet/Social Media HCs!

Hello!!! this was requested by @geniusbee I struggled a bit with the initial prompt, so I kinda broadened the question, I hope you don’t mind! Once I got the ball rolling with this one, it was super fun to work on! Thank you again for your request!

If anyone wants to, feel free to send me send me more requests! I’d love to do more of these!

Everything is under the Read More bc this got LONG AS FUCK. (Slight TW for sexual references!)

Bane:

Doesn’t use social media. point blank

He’ll surf the web mostly for research or for communication purposes, but that’s mostly it... That being said sometimes he DOES look up stuff for fun because he’s a naturally curious guy who had limited access to education for the first 20-ish years of his life. It sends him down a rabbit hole of researching weird shit and sometimes you’ll catch him up at 4:00 am looking up how bread was made in Ancient Rome or what Cock and Ball Torture is bc he heard Joker say it once and he’s never EVER fucking heard of those words strung together like that before

Also… his fingers are simply too beefy for most keyboards. Dude tryna sit down and send Scandal Savage some fun cookie recipes she could try with her GF like

Catwoman:

Not a lot to say here but tbh she probably has the most normal internet habits of everyone. Helps to promote cat shelter’s web pages, and will use some light hacking to find the locations of fur factories and animal abusers but that’s mostly it?

If she isn’t already an influencer, she has definitely considered it. Will sometimes post selfies of her wearing stolen jewelry just to flex. Has a legion of simps.

Clayface

Unknowingly gets into kin drama without trying to

He has... so many theather blogs, musical blogs, and obscure film blogs... someone help him... somehow he regularly adds shit to ALL OF THEM.

He’s that one bitch who hoards all the canon URLs and there’s nothing you can fucking do to stop him.

Harley Quinn:

Her computer is slow and buggy as shit because she’s got so many viruses from trying to download flash games. Edward refuses to fix her computers at this point because he knows it’s a lost cause.

She vlogs sometimes, actually! And she’ll drag her hyenas or any of the rogues/batfam/GCPD she’s hanging out with atm into it.

She likes to go onto anxiety or depression forums and anonymously leave nice, helpful advice :)

Joker:

Mostly on the dark web, doing… things that you do on the dark web...

If he’s ever on the clean web I promise it’s only to start kin drama or to dm fucked up shit to random people he finds.

Has been known to catfish when the mood strikes him

Also? He jumps onto RP forums and either plays the SHITTIEST Batman, or an eerily accurate Batman.

Killer Croc:

He likes looking up funny videos online!!! Also! Art tutorials!!

He likes to post his artwork online under a pseudonym. He doesn’t expect anyone to really pay attention to his work, but it’s always a very pleasant surprise when someone likes or leaves a nice comment on his art.

He genuinely cherishes all of his followers and the kind interactions he shares with them.

Mad Hatter:

It’s just hat porn and hentai. I’m sorry.

Mr. Freeze:

Normal internet habits tbh. Doesn’t really go on the internet that often because he doesn’t particularly care about keeping up to date with what’s happening.

He used to have a Facebook where he’d post pictures of himself and Nora, but he can’t really do that anymore due to obvious reasons.

Penguin:

Lightly dabbles in dark web shit (for business purposes) but otherwise he’s like an old man on the internet. Checks the stock market and shit. Responds to his emails in a timely manner. He keeps track of everyone’s internet presence but that’s mostly because he enjoys drama and he doesn’t want to be out of the loop in case Eddie starts something again and he needs to know WHY Jervis and Pamela can’t be in the Iceberg at the same time without trying to kill each other.

He REFUSES to make a social media account for the Iceberg Lounge!!!! It is too classy for that!!!

Other than that, though… don’t tell anyone… but he keeps some tabs open on some 🥺🥺🥺 some bird forums and uh 🥺🥺🥺 m🥺🥺🥺 maybe some blogs he has that are all about Jane Austen and Star Trek: The Next Generation 🥺🥺🥺🥺 n-not like he LIKES Star Trek, though!!

Also in Batman #448 it shows that him and Batman canonically play chess with each other online and you know what? That’s cute as hell so I’m gonna say that they still do that.

Poison Ivy:

Surprising no one… she mostly blogs about botany

Will ONLY go onto other parts of the internet to like and share Harley, Selina, or Waylon’s posts and THAT'S IT!!!!

She is not above getting petty in the comment section!! If she finds a video of some clown over-watering their ferns she will absolutely let them know and she will not be polite about it.

Riddler:

Canonically has the best hookup and 100% is the most active online. Like yeah he does a lot of hacking shit but he uses the internet for legit stuff too.

PURPOSEFULLY looks himself up and will argue with anyone who talks smack about him on literally any of the search results. He WILL remember your username and he WILL publicly mock you for it when he freezes your laptop or when he takes over the broadcasting waves in Gotham again.

You KNOW he has a social media account for everything. He WILL talk about how smart and sexy he is and he WILL get around any attempts made to get him blocked, suspended, or banned.

“You fool… I have 70 A L T E R N A T I V E A C C O U N T S”

He is the self-proclaimed tech-guru of the Rogues. He WILL harass you if you are using the wrong web browser or if you have TOO MANY FUCKING TABS OPEN FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU.

He calms down somewhat once he becomes a P.I. He’ll take selfies at crime scenes and livestream himself when he’s finding clues or chasing someone down! He’s absolutely obsessed with it and he gets super popular. He knows that he shouldn’t broadcast himself solving crimes... but... the clicks... the views... his stans...

Enjoys gaming and modding whenever he has free time.

Scarecrow:

He hasn’t been in a classroom in years but if you looked at his internet habits you would think he’s still teaching psychology at Gotham U. Responds to emails responsibly (but NOT on weekends or after 10 pm!!)

Probably wouldn’t blog these days, but when he was younger he had a page where he would discuss his psychology work.

He mostly uses the internet for research or to order chemicals but he’ll often get swept up in some inane message chain with Harley and Eddie and he HATES IT.

He has like two dozen tabs open on his computer because he forgets about them and even though some of the tabs have been there for so long that he GENUINELY can’t remember why they were there, he keeps them because it makes Edward break into hives every time he tries to watch what he’s doing online. Giving Edward Nygma anxiety sweats is easy and free and should be done often.

Two-Face:

He uses incognito mode… whenever he needs to google embarrassing questions…

He likes to peruse the dark web but sometimes he enjoys hopping onto r/legaladvice and r/relationships and reads that shit like it's the Sunday paper.

If he’s bored or is having a bad mental day, he likes to look up all the Google doodle games that Google keeps archived. they’re all really cute and are a lot of fun to goof around with whenever he’s wanting to play something light and quick!

#headcanons #rogue gallery #Edward Nygma #Harley Quinn #Jonathan Crane #Oswald Cobblepot #Bane #Selina Kyle #Basil Karlo #Harvey Dent #Waylon Jones #Pamela Isley #Victor Fries #Jervis Tetch #the joker #dc comics #dc headcanon

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ducktastic · 4 years

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2020 Gameological Awards

Over on the Gameological Discord, we have an annual tradition of writing up our games of the year not as a ranked list but rather as answers to a series of prompts. Here are my personal choices for the year that was 2020.

Favorite Game of the Year

I didn’t know what to expect when I walked into Paradise Killer. I knew that I liked the vaporwave resort aesthetic from the game’s trailer and figured I was in for a Danganronpa-style murder mystery visual novel with an open-ended murder mystery at its core. Those assumptions were… half-right? The game definitely plays out like the exploration bits of Danganronpa set on the island from Myst but with far simpler puzzles. What I didn’t expect was to fall so deeply in love with the environment—its nooks and crannies, its millennia of lore, its brutalist overlap of idol worship, consumerism, and mass slaughter. It makes sense that the world of Paradise Killer is its strongest feature, since the cast of NPCs don’t really move around, leaving you alone with the world for the overwhelming majority of your experience as you bounce back and forth between digging around for clues and interrogating potential witnesses. And despite what the promo materials indicated, there IS a definitive solution to the crimes you’re brought in to investigate, the game just lets you make judgment based on whatever evidence you have at the time you’re ready to call it a day, so if you’re missing crucial evidence you might just make a compelling enough case for the wrong person and condemn them to eternal nonexistence. Am I happy with the truth at the end of the day? No, and neither is anybody else I’ve spoken to who completed the game, but we all were also completely enthralled the entire time and our dissatisfaction has less to do with the game and more to do with the ugly reality of humanity. I’ve always been of the mindset that “spoilers” are absolute garbage and that a story should be just as good whether you know the twist or not and any story that relies on surprising the audience with an unexpected reveal is not actually that good a story, but Paradise Killer is a game about piecing together your own version of events so I feel that it’s vital to the gameplay experience that people go in knowing as little as possible and gush all about it afterwards. Just trust me, if the game looks even remotely intriguing to you, go for it. I’ve had just as much fun talking about the game after I finished it with friends just getting started as I did actually solving its mysteries myself.

Best Single Player Game

I honestly missed out on the buzz for In Other Waters at launch, so I’m happy I had friends online talking it up as Black Friday sales were coming along. The minimal aesthetic of his underwater exploration game allows the focus to shift more naturally to the game’s stellar writing as a lone scientist goes off in search of her mentor and the secrets they were hiding on an alien world. It only took a few hours for me to become completely absorbed in this narrative and keep pushing forward into increasingly dangerous waters. In Other Waters might just be the best sci-fi story I experienced all year and I’d highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys sci-fi novels, regardless of their experience with video games.

Best Multiplayer Game

Look, we all know this year sucked. 2020 will absolutely be chronicled in history books as a fascinating and deeply depressing time in modern history where we all stayed inside by ourselves and missed our friends and family. It was lonely and it was bleak. Which is why it made my heart glow so much more warmly every time I got a letter from an honest-to-goodness real-life friend in Animal Crossing New Horizons. Knowing that they were playing the same game I was and hearing about their experiences and sending each other wacky hats or furniture, it lightened the days and made us feel that little bit more connected. Sure, when the game first launched we would actually take the time to visit one another’s islands, hang out, chat in real-time, and exchange gifts, but we all eventually got busy with Zoom calls, sourdough starters, and watching Birds of Prey twenty-two times. Still, sending letters was enough. It was and still is a touching little way to show that we’re here for one another, if not at the exact same time.

Favorite Ongoing Game

Zach Gage is one of my favorite game designers right now, and when I heard he was releasing a game called Good Sudoku I was sold sight unseen. The game as released was… fine. It’s sudoku and it’s pleasant, but it was also buggy and overheated my phone in a way I hadn’t seen since Ridiculous Fishing (also by Zach Gage) seven years ago. Thankfully, the most glaring bugs have been fixed and I can now enjoy popping in every day for some quick logic puzzle goodness. Daily ranked leaderboards keep me coming back again and again, the steady ramp of difficulty in the arcade and eternal modes means I can always chase the next dopamine rush of solving increasingly complex puzzles. It’s not a traditional “ongoing” game the way, say, Fortnite and Destiny are, but I’m happy to come back every day for sudoku goodness.

Didn't Click For Me

With Fortnite progressively losing me over the course of 2020, finalizing with my wholesale “never again” stance after Epic boss Tim Sweeney compared Fortnite demanding more money from Apple to the American Civil Rights movement (no, absolutely not), I dipped my toe into a number of new “battle pass”-style online arena types of games, and while Genshin Impact eventually got its hooks into me, Spellbreak absolutely did not. With graphics straight out of The Dragon Prince and the promise of a wide variety of magic combat skills to make your character your own, the game seemed awfully tempting, but my first few experiences were aimless and joyless, with no moment of clarity to make me understand why I should keep coming back. Maybe they’ll finesse the game some more in 2021, or a bunch of my friends will get hooked and lure me back, but for now I am a-okay deleting this waste of space on my Switch and PC.

"Oh Yeah, I Did Play That Didn't I?"

I remember being really excited for Murder By Numbers. Ace Attorney-style crime scene investigation visual novel with Picross puzzles for the evidence, art by the creators of Hatoful Boyfriend, and music by the composer of Ace Attorney itself?! Sounds like a dream come true. But the pixel-hunt nature of the crime scene investigations was more frustrating than fun, the picross puzzles were not particularly great, and the game came out literally a week before the entire world went into lockdown which makes it feel more like seven years ago than just earlier this year. I remember being marginally charmed by the game once it was in my hands, but as soon as my mind shifted to long-term self care, Murder By Numbers went from hot topic to cold case.

Most Unexpected Joy

I was looking forward to Fuser all year. As a dyed-in-the-wool DropMix stan, the prospect of a spiritual sequel to DropMix on all major digital platforms without any of the analogue components was tremendously exciting, and I knew I’d have a lot of fun making mixes by myself and posting them online for the world to hear. What I didn’t expect, however, was the online co-op mode to be such a blast! Up to four players take turns making 32 bars of mashups, starting with whatever the player before handed them and adding their own fingerprints on top. It sounds like it should just be a mess of cacophony, but every session I’ve played so far has been just the best dance party I’ve had all year, and everyone not currently in control of the decks (including an audience of spectators) can make special requests for what the DJ should spin and tap along with the beat to great super-sized emoji to show how much they’re enjoying the mix. Literally the only times my Apple Watch has ever warned me of my heightened heart rate have been the times I was positively bouncing in place rocking out to co-op freestyle play in Fuser.

Best Music

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Only one video game this year had tunes that were so bumpable they were upgraded to my general “2020 jams” playlist alongside Jeff Rosenstock, Run the Jewels, and Phoebe Bridgers, and that game was Paradise Killer. 70% lo-fi chill beats to study/interrogate demons to, 20% gothic atmospheric bangers, 10% high-energy pop jazz, this soundtrack was just an absolute joy to swim around in both in and out of gameplay.

Favorite Game Encounter

It’s wild that in a landscape where games let me live out my wildest fantasies, the single moment that lit me up in a way that stood out to me more than any other was serving Neil the right drink in Coffee Talk. Over the course of the game, you serve a variety of hot drinks to humans, werewolves, vampires, orcs, and more, all while chatting with your customers and learning more about their lives and relationships. The most mysterious customer, though, is an alien life form who adopts the name Neil. They do not know what they want to drink and claim it doesn’t make a difference because they cannot taste it. Everybody else wants *something*. Neil is just ordering for the sake of fitting in and exploring the Earth experience. It’s only in the second playthrough that attentive baristas will figure out what to serve Neil, unlocking the “true” ending in the process. Seeing the typically stoic Neil actually emote when they tasted their special order drink? What an absolute treat that was.

Best Free DLC of the Year

It’s still only a couple of days old at the time I’m writing this, but Marvel’s Avengers just added Kate Bishop, aka Hawkeye, and THANK GOODNESS. Almost every character in the game at launch just smashed the endless waves of robot baddies with their fists and that looks exhausting and uncomfortable. Hawkeye (the game calls her Kate Bishop, but come on, she’s been Hawkeye in the comics for over 14 years, let’s show her some respect) uses A SWORD. FINALLY! Aside from that, I’m just having a blast shooting arrows all over the place. She and Ms Marvel are the most likable characters in the game so far, so I hope they keep adding more of the Young Avengers and Champions to the game, and if the recently announced slate of Marvel movies and tv shows are any indication (with America Chavez, Cassie Lang, and Riri Williams all coming soon to the MCU), that seems to be what Marvel is pushing for across all media

Most Accessible Game

Nintendo is, first and foremost, a toy company. They got their start in toys and cards long before video games was a thing, and they still do more tests to ensure their video game hardware is childproof than anybody else in the industry (remember how they made Switch cartridges “taste bad” so kids wouldn’t eat them?). This year, Nintendo got to rekindle some of their throwback, simplistic, toys-and-cards energy with Clubhouse Games: 51 Worldwide Classics, a Switch collection of timeless family-friendly games like Chess, Mancala, and Backgammon, along with “toy” versions of sports like baseball, boxing, and tennis for a virtual parlor room of pleasant time-wasters. The games were all presented with charming li’l explainers from anthropomorphic board game figurines, and the ability to play quick sessions of Spider Solitaire on the touch screen while I binged The Queen’s Gambit on Netflix made Clubhouse Games one of my most-played titles of the year. Plus, local play during socially-distant friend hangs was an excellent way to make us feel like we were much closer than we were physically allowed to be as friends knocked each other’s block off in the “toy boxing” version of Rock’em Sock’em Robots.

"Waiting for Game-dot"

I get that everyone loves Disco Elysium. I saw it on everyone’s year-end lists last year. I finally bought it with an Epic Games Store coupon this year. This year was a long enough slog of depressing post-apocalyptic drudgery, I didn’t want to explore a whole nother one in my leisure time. I’ll get to it… someday.

Game That Made Me Think

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Holovista was an iPhone game I played over the course of two or three days based on the recommendation of some trusted colleagues on Twitter and oh my goodness was I glad that I played it. What starts as a chill vaporwave photography game steadily progresses into an exploration of psychological trauma, relationships with friends and family, and the baggage we carry with us from our pasts. In this exceptionally hard year, I badly needed this story about spending time alone with your personal demons and finding your way back to the people who love and support you. Just like with Journey and Gone Home, I walked away from Holovista feeling a rekindled appreciation for the people in my life.

#video games #holovista #paradise killer #animal crossing #animal crossing new horizons #spellbreak #good sudoku #fuser #dropmix #in other waters #marvel's avengers #avengers #clubhouse games #coffee talk #2020

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thegeminisage · 4 years

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the south is like another country

i have an entire essay on how the current radicalism and steep political divide in this country can be traced directly back to the civil war - rural white southerners here playing the part pre-ww2 germany, the part of a resentful, conquered nation assimilated into the nation that conquered them, because if you think about it the south/the confederacy WAS its own nation for a time, that lost a very bloody war, and paid very steeply for it (not that slavers didn’t deserve every bit of misery the “carpetbaggers” threw at them), and the bitterness from that loss/the lost capital from having their slaves freed has been handed down through the generations, to people who now live in abject poverty while their livelihoods are destroyed by late stage capitalism, and their schools are so broke a lot of people here don’t even know how to read, and their towns are eaten alive with meth, and they’re still looked down upon by most of the country for being racist uneducated backwater hicks (to be clear, we should always look down on racism and racists, but it’s not making them any less bitter/ripe for being drawn into the cult of tr*mp’s america and f*cism).

but anyway this post isn’t about that! this post is about how when i go up north and i say “y’all it really is like i’m living in a different country” NOBODY BELIEVES ME. we speak the same language, we’re all americans, right? PFFFFFT. this amazon van thing just drives it home (pun intended). here’s a list of differences from the deep south* to the rest of the country*:

*the deep south here meaning the RURAL deep south. sorry to everyone who lives in cities/the suburbs and/or in border states like maryland and virginia. i’ve been to maryland and virginia and they are technically southern and some of this applies to them but it is not quite as extreme as it is here. the rest of the country includes the other states i’ve been to (california, washington state, new york, etc), which are in mostly every area except the midwest. i cannot personally vouch for the midwest. sorry, midwesterners! rural midwest probably has a lot of things in common with the deep south because rural life is different and also how easily people move around this country, but whatever

this is a long-ass post get ready

difference #1: DRIVING. driving & pedestrians are entirely different un rural areas vs urban areas. for starters, southern towns often do not even have sidewalks. this is because of 1. budget and 2. racism.

budget: rural towns are very spread out, and it costs major $$$ to put sidewalks in. it’s just not worth the trouble, financially, to put a sidewalk where only 12 people are ever going to use it, AND spend the money to maintain it. never gonna happen. racism: initially, suburbs especially in the south were seen as safe havens where people could get away from the stress of living in “urban” (re: integrated) areas. that the neighborhoods were only accessible by car and NOT by people who were too poor (black) to afford automobiles were just an added bonus.

as such, the first time i left the southeast, i was SHOCKED to see people walking and biking WITH (or indifferent to) the flow of traffic. down here we are taught that if you are walking along the road (or biking, because bikers get lumped in with pedestrians down here), it is very very very crucial that you walk against the flow of traffic, because you cannot expect drivers to see you and not mow you down. the onus is on YOU to get out of THEIR way. additionally, walking in knee-high grass along the side of the road sucks, and because there aren’t many people here, the roads are usually totally empty. so oftentimes pedestrians just straight up walk ON the road. and if you do that you absolutely have to be able to see a car coming from a long way away, because rural drivers on completely empty roads tend to take them at extremely high speeds just for fun. the people who live diagonally across from me have had to replace their mailbox four times because folks take that blind curve at 90mph. i had a cat get hit by a car on that road. (they all live indoors now.) i even witnessed a car accident happen there when i was just outside minding my own business. ever see a tire fly 12 feet into the air and come down into someone’s windshield? that’s what happens when you hit power line pole driving like that.

the first time i ever encountered one of those pedestrian crossing buttons was in california in the early 2010s. i had literally never seen one before because we simply don’t have them here. they’re not very self-explanatory if you have been jaywalking your whole entire life because all you’re taught to do is look both ways and make sure the street is empty before you cross. northern/urban roadways are made so that pedestrians and drivers can both get to where they’re going. in rural/southern areas pedestrians might as well not bother.

interestingly, while not an entirely southern problem, there’s a loose correlation between rural areas and more problems with drunk drivers.

on the driving side, driving in a city is batshit insane. it’s both faster and slower. there is NO space and you’re expected to go whenever you have so much as an inch to worm your way in. there’s more traffic, and the traffic totally dictates your speed. in the south you can change lanes if you want to drive faster or slower and weave around traffic or let it weave around you, but in a city there’s no other lane to change to and if you don’t drive at the speed of the people ahead of and behind you you will die. you turn fast, you brake fast, etc. whenever i come back from driving in a city the people who ride with me think i’m insane. you don’t PULL ONTO A ROAD if you can SEE ANOTHER CAR THERE, what the fuck? meanwhile i’m like “lol that is six miles of space i have plenty of time” and give everyone in my vicinity heart palpitations until i readjust.

tailgating in a rural area is something only assholes do (done by people on a two-lane road to encourage the person in front of them to go faster because the only other lane is for oncoming traffic), and if someone gets within one car length of me on a two-lane road i can very passively aggressively slow my vehicle to a crawl until they back the fuck off. in a city you’re lucky if you have a twelve inches between your bumper and the next car’s hood ornament.

difference #2: LANGUAGE. this is a small one, but the southern dialect combined with the lack of literacy means i am learning certain things late in life. phrases i have heard verbally with my ears but had never seen written out include: “chest of drawers” which i thought was “chester drawers” - “seven year itch” which i thought was “seven year each” - “albeit” which i thought was “i’ll be it.” i’ve made a deliberate effort to unlearn mine own accent/dialect but i run into weird shit all the time. remotes are mashers, shopping carts are buggies, you put stuff up instead of putting it away, i fix you a drink instead of pouring you one, we shoot the game instead of play it. my mom LITERALLY can’t understand me if i speak too quickly - she has to remind me all the time to slow down and put on my southern.

difference #3: TECHNOLOGY. issue of whether or not you personally have the creepy amazon vans aside, the rural south is behind the rest of the country on technology. things in cities are AUTOMATED. things like the little button you press to cross the street, tickets you take at parking garages, even the parking meters you find in cities, that’s just the beginning of it. one time i came across a little computer touch screen in a MCDONALDS where you put your order in. you didn’t even go up to the counter. you just put your order on the screen and swiped your card and then they got it ready for you and you never had to speak to a human person. self-checkouts, gas pumps where you can swipe your card and not go in and pay at first...the south got those YEARS behind everybody else. in the mid-2010s i went to DC and visited a target for maybe the 5th time ever and i was BAFFLED by the self-checkout. i had no idea how to use it! it was like less than ten years ago and i was IN MY TWENTIES and i had never seen one before! when we send a package we have to talk to a human person. when we order food we usually have to talk to a human person. apps for places like dominos and subway have not been in use here for very long. my county just got doordash LAST YEAR.

because i am 31, and because the south is so technologically behind, i am actually old enough to remember how when you used to go to a gas station an attendant would not only pump your gas but wash your windshield for you while you just SAT IN THE CAR. that seems like something from the 50s but it actually was a thing here in my childhood IN the 90s. i wish i was making this up.

difference #4: INFRASTRUCTURE. this sort of goes hand-in-hand w/ the last point because so much of our infrastructure is made of technology, and it’s also more of a rural/urban thing than a south/north thing. but just for fun here’s a non-exhaustive list of things i don’t have in my town:

starbucks* - the first time i went to a starbucks i was in my 20s

a public pool - we used to, but now the only pool here requires a YMCA membership. the only baseball diamond in this county is also at the Y.

walmart

in fact, ANYWHERE to buy clothes that is not a goodwill or other secondhand store. i cannot buy clothing unless i order it online or LEAVE MY TOWN. almost all of the clothing i own is from walmart because it’s one of the only places in my entire county where you can actually PURCHASE clothing.

grocery store chains? pffft. my town has two entire stores and both are small southern chains. i didn’t go into a publix for the first time until two years ago when i went to florida. i’ve NEVER entered a whole foods.

food delivery? yeah, no. like i said, we got doordash last year, but before that the only place you could get delivery from was a pizza chain. we only have two pizza places in my town that deliver, and one is a local place, not attached to any chain, so i can’t spend my loyalty points there. (it’s very expensive there too.) last year it was CLOSED for six months because the manager got caught dealing meth. every last one of the delivery drivers was trafficking it for him. they all got fired and had to restart from the ground up. for that short time, it was not possible to get any food delivered to your house whatsoever.

a hospital/ambulance services - if someone is sick, we have to take them to the hospital in laurens, the town next door (about 15-20 minutes by car). the town i live in lucky - we have our own police and fire departments. (acab but you know what i mean.) joanna is a smaller town next to mine that isn’t a real town - it’s been demoted to a census designated area because only 2000 people live there. if they have an emergency, they have to use OUR fire and police departments, and LAURENS’s ambulance/hospital system

after-school places kids can go to keep from getting into trouble. we have the Y, if you have money (no one here has money), and we have churches, but mostly schools can’t afford to run too many extracurriculars. there’s nothing to do here but church and meth.

food banks: zero. we have food DRIVES sometimes where people will come from further away and bring free food, but if you’re hungry, there’s nowhere you can go for help - you have to wait for help to come to you.

libraries: we don’t have our own library. we have a branch of the county library that’s physically located in our town. but we share books with the rest of the entire county, so everything is always checked out or at the other branch.

*we technically have a starbucks that’s in the local college campus, but only college students are allowed to be there. they’ll still serve people without a college ID because no one gives a fuck, but you can’t linger and loiter and hang out like you do in a normal starbucks. we also have one in the barnes and noble in greenville, which is about an hour away by car, but again, it’s a mini starbucks that serves a limited menu and none of that weird Starbucks Culture™

here’s a few things i don’t have in my ENTIRE COUNTY:

movie theaters - technically. we have a Historial™ one-screen theater in laurens that shows one movie for two weeks a month after it hits regular theaters and then switches to another, and if you miss it, too bad. this is a VERY recent addition - it wasn’t restores until i was in my 20s as a kid and a teenager i had to ride in a car an hour or more to go to the movies.

target. only commies and yankees have target. down here we do walmart.

malls

arcades

skate parks/skating rinks

bowling

museums

zoos/aquariums

campgrounds

fairs. our county fairground got razed a decade ago because there just werent enough people showing up to justify the expense. so no more fairs. you have to have people to fund things and down here there just aren’t enough people anywhere.

you get the idea. we don’t have entertainment. like i said, nothing to do but church and meth.

CLASSES FOR STUFF: knitting classes, dancing classes, driving classes? nope. gymnastics, karate dojos, golf, knitting groups, books clubs, cooking classes? [GAMESHOW BUZZER]. you can’t even hire a clown for a birthday party out here. we do have a shooting range. ONE. in the entire county. and a race track. and a rather infamous former kkk memorabilia store. they made a movie about that (serious tw for this trailer - they’ve got white hoods, burning crosses, pepper spray, the whole nine), which, yes, takes place in laurens, aka right next door to me. i used to walk by that place all the time when i was playing pokemon go. haven’t seen the movie but the shooting locations in the trailer make laurens look a lot bigger and prettier than it really is in real life - especially the racetrack, which, in the trailer, is actually PAVED. (this is inaccurate to real life.)

EDUCATION: lots of people can’t read. we have two schools for illiterate adults, one religious college, and one branch of one of the state colleges that has a skeleton staff and a fuck ton of computers (you basically just go there to distance learn/e-learn - if you want to take real classes from this college, you have to drive at least an hour.)

support groups/group therapy: almost none. we have al-anon and weight watchers, but that’s about it. there’s only half a dozen therapists in my entire county, and none that operate from my town. mental healthcare down here is bullshit.

on food: we don’t have many sit-down restaurants, where servers bring you your menu and your food. if you don’t count waffle houses, my town has 4. my county has 9. in and out, 5 guys, applebees, ruby tuesday, red lobster, olive garden, panda epxress? forget it. those places were and still are rare treats. i’ve only been to an olive garden twice. red lobster once. whenever i leave my county i BEG for chinese because there’s only two chinese restaurants in our entire county and one of them is crazy expensive and the other one sucks.

we also don’t have the more important stores you need to like, live. if we need to exchange our router at a charter store? yeah, we don’t have one. need to visit the sprint store to get your phone repaired? nuh-uh, we don’t have any phone stores either. my family recently switched to at&t because it was the only company that had a physical location in our county. before that, we had to drive an hour for even the smallest repair.

on a grimer note: we don’t have homeless shelters! homeless in laurens county? too bad for you. we do have homeless PEOPLE. they just have nowhere to go except the churches

hospitals? only kind of. like i said, our county has one, but it’s not equipped to take seriously sick people. when my mom had a heart attack she had to be driven straight to greenwood, which is 45 minutes away if you’re not in an ambulance. they obviously made it faster than that, but still. that was scary. it took them a long time to get here. i had a distant relative of mine die before the ambulance made it because they were SO far out in the sticks, even further than me.

we also don’t have any specialty stores. sporting goods, gamestops, shoe stores, florists, craft stores, bookstores, best buys...forget it. if you can’t buy it at walmart, you just can’t buy it. the exceptions: my TOWN has one jewelry store, two hardware stores, and two auto repair stores. my COUNTY has three clothing stores, none of which are in my town, one place that sells used TVs, and one movie rental place. thrilling, right? i can rent a movie if i drive out of town. (i know streaming killed the rental business, but we also only had two places when i was a kid, if you counted the rental section in the grocery store.)

so, yeah. i know the term “shithole” is really loaded these days, but rural areas are just plain less developed, and often in seriously poor repair because nobody fucking uses them. there USED to be more stuff here - my mom was on a bowling league, and as a kid i had a birthday party at a skating rink - but late stage capitalism and drugs destroyed it all. people ran out of money to do things like skate and bowl and so those places closed. the south is full of empty store fronts and deserted strip malls slowly being eaten by kudzu. my brother got out of this town and whenever he winds up back here (not often) he remarks on how completely and utterly dead everything feels. “my friends who live in greenwood now think they’re all rural,” he said once. “they complain constantly about how remote it is. but they have no idea. they wouldn’t make it five minutes out here.” greenwood has its own movie theater, mall, starbucks, homeless shelter, food bank, and hospital.

so, yeah! if you were wondering what rural white southerners are so fucking mad about, that’s part of it. propaganda and xenophobia and racism has their anger directed ENTIRELY at the wrong people, but it’s hard to argue that the anger itself isn’t just a little bit justified.

difference #5: CULTURE. specifically culture around food, and the culture around the civil war. i could write an entire other essay about the culture of the church being everything because the church IS the only semblance of infrastructure we have and this is why the south is so homophobic, but we’ll skip that for now.

food: this is a quickie, because i sort of touched on it already, but there are like, almost NO vegetarian options here. there’s very limited choices of cuisine. it’s ALL waffle house and soul food. we have a lot of mexican places because we’re physically close to the mexican border, but aside from that, forget finding like indian or thai or japanese or anything like that. no sushi. forget finding a menu that has meals that are halal or kosher. there’s just. no culture here. no variety. you know? like i said, our entire county doesn’t even hit double-digits for proper sit-down restaurants.

civil war: i’m not going to go into the big stuff since i sort of covered it at the top and also this post is getting way too long, but to other white rural southerners there is legitimate baggage around the fact that my mom married a yankee and that i am half-yankee. and he’s not even a real yankee! he was born up north but raised in southern florida. (florida is weird. the further south you go geographically, the less southern you are culturally.) yet: my family makes jokes that are sometimes not jokes about this. when i drop this information in casual conversation people get that look on their faces like: ah, that explains it. it being that i am not religious and don’t laugh at racist jokes and maybe i am queer?? (strangers tend to be unsure about this last part, even when i’m wearing rainbows.) it’s because i’m half-yank! that explains everything! the xenophobia is SO strong here that white people are even xenophobic at OTHER WHITE PEOPLE.

so in conclusion when i say the north is like another country, it’s because the people who raised me think of it like another country. and culturally! it is buck wild! the differences that there are! when i leave this town i feel like i step into fucking star trek! if you are not from the rural south, and you have never been to the rural south, please do not come here! i’ve been to a few different places now and this is definitely my least favorite one.

#personal #i guess #it's ok to rb if you want to though??? tbh i don't think most people will even get to the end lol #anyway here's my college lecture about the south it's not very good or college level actually lmao #this is AIRQUOTE FIELD STUDY AIRQUOTE #the experiences u have as a half-yank white person in the rural south are crazy #bc other white people think you're okay to listen to them say what they REALLY think #and then backtrack rapidly when they realize you aren't #now that i'm grown and woke i can't believe half-yankee is even a thing.#anyway this post brought to you by the maddening realization of how technologically far behind we are #WE DON'T EVEN HAVE THE CREEPY AMAZON VANS #the automated package sending...what i wouldn't give not to have to talk to people to mail stuff #rip. :/

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professorspork · 4 years

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ANOTHER BUSY DAY IN THE ANDROMEDA GALAXY

I started the day running errands on Havarl, culminating with finishing off Jaal’s loyalty mission! I took Vetra with us thinking ‘hey, if anyone knows sibling dynamics...’ but then she factored into all of that absolutely 0%, lol @ me. but no matter! Jaal was super flirty as we made our way to the Forge, and it was adorable when he was like “HERE MEET MY FRIEND SO YOU CAN SEE AKKSUL IS WRONG” and bodily dragged me toward his siblings. their fight was absorbing and intense; I LEGIT GASPED WHEN HIS SISTER SHOT HIS BROTHER. LIKE!! the whole confrontation with Akksul felt super weighty and I really enjoyed it-- keeping my trigger discipline to not shoot that dude was really hard! there was a split second there where his bolt was headed toward Jaal’s face and I was like “if I kill off Jaal in his loyalty mission I’ll be so upset” but nope it all worked out, he has a bitchin cheek scar now, and the respect of his people, and I got a forehead touch so y’know. i melted. GOSH. then I died laughing at Akksul’s not-apology email.

now Jaal wants me to meet his mom(s) but Helen said that’ll lock in the romance, so I’ll probably wait just a little longer so I can uh keep having FWB sex with Peebee and ?maybe??? flirt with Vetra at some point? altho I teasingly called her MOM last time we were in Kadara Port so maybe not. (Jaal still hates it there, he’s so grumpy and it’s cute, but I digress)

this one got even longer than usual so doing a cut

one thing that I really like, that the game navigates in interesting ways, is that to the angara, we’re all just “Milky Way people.” like. so much of the original trilogy is about navigating the differences between all these aliens, and like, some of that is here too, esp with the krogan, but it’s actually really neat the way we’ve flattened out. and even with the krogan it’s still night and day-- like. comparing what Tuchanka is like in ME2 when Wrex is still solidifying his status as warlord is miles away from what it’s like for me to wander around New Tuchanka or, especially, just run into random krogan out and about (like the nice water scouts. WHY COULDN’T I JUST GIVE THEM THE WATER? but I’m getting ahead of myself). I know some of it has the Watsonian explanation of, like, only forward-thinking, open-minded krogan would be interested in the Initiative in the first place, and some of it is the Doylist explanation of ‘well people really liked that Charr/Ereba romance so let’s have more sweetie pie krogan’ but like. overall. it’s interesting, and I’m sure there’s more angles I haven’t considered.

I traced more of those comm buoys for Addison and learned that the doctor she’s obsessed with ran away to get pregnant! I definitely read that whole situation as Addison being in love with this lady and tbh it still doesn’t refute it? but I won’t get any more progress until I make a new outpost. the whole idea of ‘the first human baby born in Heleus’ thing is really cool, though, and I’m invested.

then I went to Elaaden! I feel some kind of way about Lexi diagnosing all of these scavengers with Brain Disease, but I can’t put my finger on it exactly-- other than, I guess, my general discomfort with pathologizing criminality. I was glad she said we couldn’t vaccinate people without their consent, but the whole thing smacks as very... self-conscious on the part of the game creators? like they thought people would say “hey it’s a huge plot hole that the Initiative screened every person before putting them on the arks and yet so many of them do crimes, explain that to me” and they were like “oh yeah shit that makes no sense, it’s not like people faced with the existential crisis of being in a brand new place 600 years away from everything they’ve ever known with no way back and not enough resources and multiple things wanting to kill them might just make desperate, risky choices, that’s not good enough, obviously we need to explain it with BRAIN DISEASE.” come on.

I made it to New Tuchanka, where the postings on the terminals are literally my favorite part of this whole game. THE ONE KROGAN WHO WANTS GINGERBREAD. THE ONE WHO DOESN’T WANT TO FOCUS ON CONS AND SUGGESTS A “PRO-VERSATION.” THE ONE ABOUT THE “PROBLETUNITY” OF MATING SUGGESTING WATCHING KRANTT HARDLY WAIT. THE ONE WHO INVENTED BLOOD RAGE FOR GUN TURRETS. but also, the best one, my favorite one of all: KRANTT THE RAGENING LARP. there is nothing I would not give to play Krantt: The Ragening.

I sort of tripped and fell and decided to finish Drack’s loyalty mission even though I intended to do more Elaaden things first, and that was a blast. Vorn is so presh! and also Drack is my dad so there’s that. I loved that Vorn helped save the day with a poison vegetable, and I love that Kesh pretended not to like the flower he got her. it was like-- okay. real talk, I just spent like 20 minutes trying to find proof that there is, in fact, a scene in parks and rec where someone gives April a friendship bracelet and she pretended to hate it until they threatened to take it back and could not find it ANYWHERE and felt so gaslit until I realized that that scene was not about April at all but Louise Belcher so. GOOD JOB ME. anyway. it was like that. kesh pretending her comm was broken when Tann tried to talk to her is the oldest joke in the book but I laughed anyway.

and then I TOOK SPENDER DOWN FOR GOOD. I’m a little miffed that neither Kesh nor Tann got to be in on that discussion; like, I recognize he was Addison’s underling but given all the bullshit he pulled with the krogan I especially felt Kesh deserved to be there? at one point there was a dialogue tree where I could either say it was Addison’s fault or Spender’s fault, and I picked the latter because I think they both such but Spender sucks worse, but in hindsight I wish I’d stuck it to Addison more because my dialogue was way too nice. when faced with the choice of jailing or exiling Spender, I picked jail despite my desire to defund Nexus Militia because I was scared if I exiled him he’d just come back as a worse enemy because of all his off-station contacts. when reviewing the choice in the codex, though, it narrativized my choice by saying I imprisoned him knowing he “would never survive life on the run from his former associates.” that wasn’t my assumption at all! quite the opposite! I jailed him thinking he’d start a coup from without if I didn’t, and it’s really interesting to me that the game isn’t framing that as a concern Ryder would have reasonably had. anyway, now Brecka has his job, which is good because Brecka is the best.

before leaving I unlocked my last memory, and SURPRISE MY MOM IS ALIVE. WELL. FOR A GIVEN DEFINITION OF ALIVE. i don’t know why I’m surprised; of course my dad sucked that much. but also, the fact that all of that got nestled in with the reaper ‘reveal’ (if you can call it that) felt... very strange? like. this is such a personal, emotional thing for Ryder. obviously for the player harkening back to the trilogy is supposed to be a gut wrench, and objectively, yes, I can see how the knowledge that they might have narrowly escaped certain death is a big deal, but like. the reapers aren’t HERE. they aren’t relevant. my MOM, on the other hand, is and is, apparently! it’s occurring to me I didn’t even try to find her mis-labeled pod, I was so turned around by all the benefactor stuff after the fact. anyway.

swung by Kadara to get drinks with Drack and had an epic bar fight, and then Lexi p much lectured us both abt it because Drack is like 90% spit and duct tape at this point. him talking about raising Kesh giving him a new lease on life was VERY sweet, tho, and his line about how parents aren’t the finish line, they’re the starting line was very good.

went back to Elaaden, which Jaal called “a big planet” while discussing hunting someone down and AU CONTRAIRE, JAAL, IT IS A MOON. wish I’d had Drack with me when I found Annea’s water because I bet he would have had better dialogue than Cora, but alas. felt very weird giving control of the reservoir to the Nexus, but like. Annea being like “you can’t, this is my emotional support monopoly on a vital natural resource” just wasn’t gonna fly with how I’m playing Ryder. I was gratified to hear the Nexus guy at Paradise say we were giving the water to everyone, including krogan and scavengers, because I 100% did not trust Tann not to overrule him with some shitty call.

then I went to the Remnant ship to stop Morda from making a bomb out of the drive core, and it was all going swimmingly until I traced the signal to that cave inside the flophouse and suddenly my triangle button stopped working, making me unable to activate the console. YIKES. a quick google of the issue tells me that this mission is buggy for a lot of people and reloading from an earlier save tends to help, but I tried that and the issue persisted so I gave up for the evening. hopefully a fresh start tomorrow and time for the ps4 to cool off is all that is required.

#leah plays mass effect andromeda

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flamehairedwritings · 4 years

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The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Fifteen

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Some scenes and dialogue have been taken from the game!

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

The Dawn

Five Weeks Later

He leapt out of the row boat onto the jetty, landing heavily. If there had been anyone around, besides the captain who’d rowed him over, they would have heard a sharp, muttered curse, watched him pause.

Then, he pushed himself up, staggering just slightly, and nodded his gratitude to the captain. The man nodded in return silently, then started to row away.

It felt like a very long walk up to the main and only street of Van Horn for Arthur Morgan.

Shady Belle. That’s where he’d start. Part of him knew, hoped, they wouldn’t all be there, that they’d have moved on, that would have been the smart thing to do. But how to get there?

Stopping on the street to catch his breath, Arthur looked right, then left. A few horses were tied to posts, but every establishment was quiet, even the bar. Then again, it was only a few hours until the sun would rise. The strongest looking horse was to his left. He started moving.

“Hey, girl... good girl...” he murmured to her as she lifted her head, shifting a little uneasily.

She soon settled, though, as he stroked her neck and murmured to her, slowly unwinding the reins from the post. She was beautiful, a piebald Hungarian Half-bred. He hadn’t seen one of those in a while.

Still softly whispering to her, he gripped the saddle and pulled himself up, hissing out a breath.

Bone-aching tiredness and this horse would get him home.

To her.

He encountered no one as he left Van Horn, urging the horse into a light canter. It was the first time in nearly over a month that he’d been alone. Guarma had been... He hoped to God he never had to be in a place like that again. He couldn’t stop his heart from aching slightly at those who were still trapped there, but he had faith in Hercule and his men. Besides, he had his own battles and problems to think about.

Dutch was one of those problems.

Later, think on it later. Just get home.

To her.

Christ. When had he last been able to think of her properly?

Not yet, not yet. Wait ‘til you see her.

If he saw her.

Only a few travellers passed him as he made his way to Shady Belle. He was just grateful for the quiet, and kept his mind blank, watching the paths he took. It must have rained a little while before as there were puddles everywhere and the mud was slick. The horse handled it well, though. He quickly took a shine to her.

Passing a bridge that would lead into Saint Denis and riding past the fields of Caliga Hall, he marvelled at how long ago all their businesses there felt, how much had changed since then.

How people had changed. How he had changed. How... How people had died.

His jaw moved.

Don’t think about that now.

He slowed the horse as they neared Shady Belle, coming down to a walk. He strained to hear as they passed the trees and shrubs that had once been so familiar. Then, he turned on to the main path and he saw it, the large, once great building, still intact. His gaze darted about as he rode down towards it, but he saw no one, heard nothing, not even crickets and flies. He pulled the horse to a gentle halt as she came to the fountain, and he dismounted slowly. The front doors were open, anyone could shoot at and kill him now, he had no weapons, nothing. Continuing to scan the area, he checked the saddlebag on the horse. Just a few coins and a map of Lemoyne.

Exhaling a breath, he turned towards the house, patting the horse’s neck gently. Looking to the right, there was a collapsed wagon, and to the left, the bandstand.

Her bandstand.

He moved to it. Peered in. Nothing.

He moved to the house. Rain had gotten in, staining the first few floorboards beyond the doors. Inside, it looked just as it had when he and John had first arrived to clear it out for all of them; books, papers and leaves strewn about, furniture turned over, bottles and cans piled together. People must have been using this place, but it hadn’t been his people.

He closed his eyes as he ran a hand through his sand and sea-salt thick hair. What the hell was he doing here. He had no way to track them. What if they really had all gone? What if... What if something had happened to them? Rubbing at his face, he moved to his right, into the closest room. He sat down heavily on the non-collapsed side of a faded chaise lounge and put his head in his hands.

He was so God damn tired. Exhausted. Like he’d never been before in his life. He’d never been the kind of man to give up, but now...

Hosea dead.

Lenny dead.

Charles, he didn’t know.

John, too.

Dutch...

Lifting his head and sitting back, he stared across the room into the next, his hands falling to his lap. The table they’d once placed maps and books on was still upright, two bottles on it and propped between them an—

He frowned.

... And an envelope. A pristine one, that very much looked out of place.

Pushing himself up, Arthur crossed the room to the table, grabbing the envelope.

Tacitus Kilgore, the front read.

Their alias.

A corner of his mouth lifted as he turned it over and ripped it open. He fumbled slightly as he pulled a folded piece of paper out of it and opened it, instantly beginning to read.

Dear Uncle Tacitus,

I do so hope you enjoyed your vacation. Lucky you! Leaving like that. And you always suggested you were too old for travel. I hope you and your cousins enjoyed yourselves. Me and your grand nieces have decided to take a trip of our own as the place has become so dreary and godforsaken in your absence. We have gone to visit relatives (from my Daddy’s side. You are not yet acquainted with them) in Lakay, a small village just north of Saint Denis.

It’s buggy and muggy but apparently neither is too bad at this time of year. Please come see us when you can.

Yours sincerely,

Caroline

“Well, thank you, darling niece ‘Caroline’,” Arthur murmured as he smiled, folding the letter back into the envelope.

The tone rang of Sadie, but also her.

He placed it back on the table, leaving it for any of the other men who might try their luck here for any sign of their gang.

Rolling his shoulders, he headed for the door, finding the last of his energy.

Lakay. Them. Her.

Soon, he would be with them.

—

He’d had to slow the gallop of the horse as they entered the heartland of the swamps. It was muddier here, the swamp overflowing to the paths and making the horse skid slightly. Despite his eagerness, he kept her to a light canter, not wanting any broken necks or legs for either of them.

It was quiet and dark, the morning light breaking through the large, heavy trees in thin shafts. He had to commend them, it was well covered, and he certainly wouldn’t want to bring an army through here to look for them.

He slowed to a trot as he passed through some muddy water and between two short wooden poles, small skulls attached to the top of them.

Great.

Then, he saw them. Shacks and sheds in an odd kind of circle, dim lanterns dotted around, and...

Abigail, Pearson and Tilly.

He pulled the horse to an abrupt halt and dismounted, unsure of how he managed to stay on his feet, his legs so close to giving out. He stared at them. Abigail, Pearson and Tilly. They were bent over a table, each working on a part of a meal, evidently. Then, Abigail raised her head. The knife dropped from her hand, clattering loudly on the table.

“Arthur?!” Her arms were around him before he knew it. Closing his eyes, he found himself smiling as he patted her back.

He wanted to sink into the warm embrace, but it wasn’t the one he really wanted.

“Hey.” God, his voice sounded terrible to his own ears. When was the last time he’d had water?

“’Hey’? Like you ain’t been away so God damn long,” Abigail half-scoffed, half-wept as she pulled back, smiling with relief.

“Had a nice time, Morgan?” Pearson asked with a grin, clapping him on the back.

“Yeah, Micah tell you all about how lucky we was?” Arthur answered good-naturedly. He’d missed them all, and it nearly broke his heart to see how delighted and relieved Tilly and Abigail were, both of them crying, but he really only wanted to see one person. He was about to ask when Abigail gripped his arm.

“They took John, Arthur, at the bank.”

His heart dropped. “I know, Abigail, where is he?”

“They got him, he’s in Sisika Penitentiary, Arthur, he’s probably gonna hang!”

He rubbed her back gently, sobs rising within her again. “It’s all righ’, sweetheart, it’ll be all righ’. Dutch’ll be here real soon and we’ll get him back, I promise.”

Christ, John...

His heart ached.

Smiling gently at her, Arthur glanced between them all. “Where’s Annie?”

“Oh, God, of course, I’m sorry, Arthur.” Abigail wiped her eyes sheepishly, looking to Tilly. “She was on watch, wasn’t she? She should just be—”

“Arthur?”

That voice.

His gaze lifted.

There she was. Staring at him. A shotgun held in one hand by her side. Her hair tied back. Clean blue blouse and black skirt. Brown belt wrapped around her waist along with a gunbelt around her hips, two revolvers in holsters. His bandanna tied loose around her neck. Her lips parted. Her eyes shining.

Then, she was striding towards him. The shotgun ended up in Pearson’s hands, from him catching it as she either dropped it or thrust it into his hands, he didn’t know, didn’t care.

As Ada threw her arms around his neck, his eyes closed and his own wrapped around her. He held on to her tightly, his face pressed into the crook of her neck.

She was safe. She was alive.

“I knew you couldn’t be dead, I knew it,” he heard her whispering, her voice cracking, “They’d have put it all over the papers, we’d have known, we’d have just known...”

He just held her, letting her surround him.

She held on just as tightly, taking shuddering breaths. It was several moments before she pulled back abruptly and gripped his shoulders, her eyes darting over him.

“Are you hurt? Your skin is all red, what happened?”

He gazed at her, keeping a hold on her waist. “I’m fine. A little thirsty and hungry, but fine.”

“Come here, come on.” She was taking his hand and leading him somewhere, and at some point the others must have disappeared because they were no longer there, but he just looked at her.

Her hair was shorter, he suddenly realised. It now fell to between her shoulder blades rather than near her waist. He was going to ask what happened when she turned to him, having led him behind a barely-standing shed.

“Sit down.” She dragged a crate closer to him.

He obeyed, trusting that it would bear his weight. It did, and he placed his hands on his knees as she pulled a bucket of water closer, a rag swimming in it.

“It’s clean, I promise,” she murmured, though he wasn’t fazed.

Gripping the rag and squeezing some water out of it, she then started to gently wipe at his face, and the coolness of it felt like heaven.

“Tell me what happened.”

He cleared his throat as he gazed at her. “Ain’t you gotta keep an eye out?”

“Oh, nothing happens around here.” She smiled lightly. “Well, apart from the Night Folk, but they loiter around the western roads.”

“The Night Folk?” The name rang a faint, tired bell.

“That’s a story for another time,” she answered, raising her eyebrows slightly as her smile widened a little more.

She swept the cloth down his neck before dipping it back into the water again. His fingers brushed against her skirt, gripping the material gently.

“You haven’t changed. Well, ‘cept the hair.”

She met his gaze, dabbing at the part of his chest she could get to, her smile lingering.

“You have.”

“Ah, well, ain’t no barbers in Guarma.”

“Guarma?!” Her hand dropped as she stared at him. “What the hell were you doing there?!”

“Micah and Javier didn’t say?”

“Oh, well... I heard they’d come back but I just... stayed on my watch. I didn’t really know what I wanted to hear.” Grazing her teeth over her lower lip, she gripped at his shirt. “Come on, let’s get this off while you tell me.”

As he raised his arms to help her pull it off, wincing slightly as various aching muscles protested, and she started to wash him, he told her everything, beginning to end. How the bank had been surrounded almost instantly. How Hosea had been shot before them. How they’d blown a hole in the wall of the bank and escaped. How Lenny had been killed as they ran. How they had waited in a dingy room in a boarded-up building for darkness to fall, hiding like rats. How Charles had made himself a diversion, drawing guards away. How they’d managed to get onto a boat and convinced the captain to let them stay. How there had been a storm and the boat had caught fire somewhere in the ocean and they’d had to abandon it, jumping in to the water. Guarma and the hell it had provided. The journey back.

The only comment she gave throughout was that Charles had survived and found them and was still with them. Other than that, she just washed the dirt, sweat, sand and sea-salt from his chest, face and hair, expressionless. Even Hosea and Lenny’s deaths elicited no response from her, but he didn’t let it trouble him.

“Christ...” she finally said after he’d finished, exhaling a long breath. “... and Bill and Dutch are coming?”

“Yeah, we thought it’d be best if we went one at a time with quite some time between us to try and draw as little attention as possible.” He cleared his throat, wanting to ask for water to drink but not wanting her to leave him, even if only for a short while. “But what about you all, how did you all get away? What happened after we left?”

“Pinkerton men came minutes after the explosion.” Her lips twitched at his expression. “Yeah, we heard that all the way at Shady Belle. We packed everything up, came here, not before we exchanged shots. Everyone is fine,” she quickly continued at his mouth opening, “Well, couple of scratches and bruises here and there. Couple of shots to legs and—”

“Whose?”

She pressed her lips together slightly. “Mine. Don’t worry, all right, stop,” she swiftly continued again as he frowned and opened his mouth again. “I’m fine. It didn’t hit anything vital, just meant I couldn’t do much for a little while. Still limp a little and it aches every now and then but that should go away, hopefully.” Her features fell slightly. “Tilly got it worse. Bullet grazed her neck, but she’s okay, thank God. Oh, and there’s this...”

As she brushed curls off of her forehead, he saw it; a thin white scar starting from the upper right side of her forehead, going almost diagonal across it, and curving down past her left eyebrow.

“Jesus Christ...” One hand gripped her chin gently as he angled her head, his gaze following it. “What—”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She lifted her head out of his touch, smiling lightly. “Nice, huh?” She was already continuing before he could answer. “Anyway, Sadie knew about this place. We reconvened in some woods up north the night it all happened, that’s how Charles found us, and then she and Charles rode ahead, chased away the men who were living here. Like I said, been quiet since then.”

Arthur kept a hold on her skirt as he looked at her. He knew it was pointless to worry about what had already happened, and she was fine, but guilt still set in. He should have been there.

His hand found her free one, lacing their fingers together. “How you been?”

“Fine,” she answered, soaking the rag again.

“Ada.” His thumb brushed over her knuckles.

She exhaled a breath as she met his gaze, a smile tugging at her lips. “You made me cry, Arthur Morgan. More than once. I won’t forgive you for making me feel, cowboy.”

His chest tightened. He knew she wasn’t saying it to make him feel guilty, that she was just teasing, a little. He just couldn’t help but think about the burdens she’d had to carry, how she’d worried day after day. He’d had escaping and saving Javier to keep him occupied, combined with dehydration and near starvation. Even on the boat back he’d just slept, eaten, drank, then slept. God, the guilt could’ve crushed him. He knew apologising wouldn’t even begin to make up for it.

Taking the rag from her hand, he dropped it and took her by the waist, drawing her on to his lap.

“Arthur, I didn’t mean it...” she began to protest gently.

“It’s all righ’, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her.

She fell silent, her head resting against his shoulder. He tightened his hold on her, his chin on top of her head. She released a breath, her arm sliding around his back.

“What you been up to while we ain’t been around to make things excitin’?” he asked quietly, his fingers brushing against her skin.

She didn’t move, taking a breath. “Oh, the Night Folk have made things very exciting. Other than that, we’ve been lying low. And Sadie and I have been going after O’Driscolls.”

Jesus Christ.

Arthur lifted his head, looking down at her. “What?”

Drawing her head back as well, Ada smiled. “Don’t give me that look. I told you we would, and we’ve survived so far, obviously.”

Well, can’t argue with that.

Arthur exhaled a breath. “Righ’... Does she know?”

“Yeah.” Her hand slid up his back to settle on his shoulder. “I told her a few days after we got here.”

“About everythin’?”

“Yeah. I think she could tell something was up, anyway, had been able to for a while. She also thinks I’m hell bent on revenge like her.” Her eyebrows rose slightly as she brushed her fingers against his neck. “Which I suppose I am.”

Jesus, he had missed out on some things.

“Really?”

She smiled slightly. “I just want peace of mind. I just want to know.”

He took her free hand. “You found any sign of him?”

“We’ve interrogated a few and asked them but there are so many Thomas O’Driscolls, though, it’s hard to narrow them down. The ones we’ve caught didn’t seem close enough to Colm to really know anything.” Meeting his gaze, she smiled again. “Anyway, we shouldn’t be talking about me.”

She cupped his cheek and he leaned in to the touch, so, so grateful to feel it once more.

“Made you cry, did I,” he said quietly, a corner of his mouth lifting.

She snorted lightly, gazing at him in such a way he felt he didn’t deserve.

“Not just you.” She said it before she could stop herself, taking a breath when he frowned. “Oh... My Faithful was hurt during the fight. I had to shoot him to put him out of his misery.”

His heart dropped.

“Oh, shit, sweetheart, I’m so sorry—”

“No, please...” she cut him off gently, a small smile lifting her features again. “It’s fine. You men just keep breaking my heart, don’t you?”

He exhaled a laugh, caressing her back. “I’m gonna have to make it up to you.”

“You can start by not going anywhere, Morgan.” Her arms wrapped around his neck.

“That I can do, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I’m going to make sure of it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She laughed softly, her fingers brushing against his damp hair. Grazing her teeth over her lower lip, she lowered her voice a little. “Morale’s low, Arthur. Well, was low. I think you all returning will boost things.”

“Well, I ain’t surprised, you all ain’t had it easy.”

“It’s been okay, just...” She pressed her lips together. “Molly’s gone.”

"What?” He frowned.

Well, shit... That wasn’t good.

Ada shrugged. “She just disappeared, days after we got here. No one seems to mind, though, I think they all seemed quite relieved. And I’m assuming Abigail told you about John?” She sighed as he nodded. “People are worried.”

“I know,” he murmured, “I feel like an ass, I didn’t even have a chance to think about him while we were out there.”

Her fingers stroked his hair. “Well, Sadie and I have tried to think about what to do, while the general consensus has been to just wait for Dutch, whenever he would return.”

The words just came out. “Well, I don’t know if he’s the right person to make a judgement call right now.”

She looked at him.

“What do you mean?”

He shifted a little, his thumb absent-mindedly brushing over her ring. “Somethin’ happened in Guarma.” He laughed shortly. “Well, not just Guarma. The last few months have been bad call after bad call. I can’t blame him all for that, though, it’s also circumstances but... In Guarma, he killed a woman. An old lady. With no good reason. And he... I don’t know if he’s in his right mind, anymore.”

She caressed the back of his neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek before murmuring, “You need sleep, Arthur Morgan.”

He smiled, realising it was the first time she’d kissed him. “Yeah, I do.”

Moving off of him carefully, she took his hand once more. “You can have my bedroll. It’s not particularly comfortable, I’m afraid, just an inch off the rickety, old boards, and we don’t have many blankets to go around. Or maybe one of the hammocks would be better—”

He rose, shaking his head. “It’ll be fine. Anythin’ is better than the floor of a boat or Guarma ground.”

She squeezed his hand. “Let’s get you some fresh clothes and something to eat first.”

He was left alone to change and eat, besides Ada sitting right beside him for the latter, though, and he was grateful for it. Charles grinned and hugged him and Sadie slapped him on the back when they returned from hunting, but they just said they were glad he was back and okay before they moved on, leaving him alone. A damn good man and woman. They all asked if he was okay at one point or another but having heard the tale already from Micah, who’d been the first off the boat and first to arrive back, they were all just glad to see he was there, letting him eat as much stew as he wanted.

It started to rain at some point, darkness falling with it, keeping everyone in the main shack, and they were all quiet, Micah, Javier and Arthur, and Uncle, of course, dozing and catching up on their sleep in hammocks while everyone else did the little odd jobs they’d got into the routine of doing. Ada caught Sadie’s eye as they cleaned their guns, sharing a warm, relieved smile.

The quiet didn’t last long, though.

“Dutch! Dutch is here!” Susan cried as she shoved the door to the main cabin open, beaming, her eyes shining.

Dutch van der Linde stepped in to the small cabin to the sound of gasps, cheers and greetings. He smiled widely at all of them, the men waking up with a start and everyone rising out of their seats.

He could barely get a word out before Abigail was speaking over everyone, words pouring out of her.

“Dutch, Dutch, they got John!”

“Okay, okay,” he said with a gentle chuckle.

“He’s back!” Tilly cried as the men, finally out of their hammocks, entered the main room, grinning, and Uncle cheered.

Arthur rubbed at his eyes before meeting Dutch’s gaze, nodding at him and exchanging weary smiles. Everyone was crowded in the room now, standing in a circle around their king. Arthur stood beside Ada as she folded her arms, lifting her gaze and smiling at him.

He still couldn’t believe it. God, he couldn’t wait until they were alone.

She seemed to be thinking exactly the same thing as her teeth bit at her lower lip and the hint of a smirk appeared. She looked away after a moment, a faint tinge of pink on her cheeks as she turned her attention back to the room.

Dutch was looking between them all, half in shock, half in exhaustion, shaking his head slightly.

"How’d you folks find each other? What happened?" He chuckled tiredly again. ”Can, can somebody get me a cup of coffee or somethin’?”

Pearson leapt into action, moving to the back of the cabin.

“It was Sadie and Annie who saved us and got us movin’, Dutch,” Tilly beamed, giving each of them a wide smile.

“Yes,” Herr Strauss piped up, “After the robbery in Saint Denis, they got us away from camp before any more Pinkertons could turn up. Then Mrs Adler and Mr Smith drove away the degenerates who were living here!”

Pearson returned, handing Dutch a tin cup of coffee.

“Did they, now.” Dutch looked at Sadie and Charles, smiling gratefully. “Thank you, Mrs Adler, and Mr Smith, we owe you. And...” He looked to Ada then, and... she didn’t like what she saw lingering in his gaze. “Annie. Remind me...” He exhaled a short laugh. “It’s been so long, how did you come by those blueprints of the bank, again?”

Her eyebrows rose, as did several others. She knew where this was going. Had known this was what it would come to, but she kept control.

“At the party?” She adopted an air of faint confusion. “I went upstairs to investigate what I could and found them on a table in the mayor’s bedroom. Why?”

“What were you doing upstairs?”

This was the Dutch she knew him to be. Smiling, eyes cold.

She frowned slightly. “I just said, investigating. Like we were all there to do.”

“And they were just lying around?”

“Yes. Anyone else could have found them, Dutch. It just so happened to be me.”

“Yes, it did.”

People shifted around them, discomfort filling the air, but she just held his gaze.

“What are you implying, Dutch?”

His jaw moved, a muscle twitching, the smile gone. “I have lost three men. Two dead, one in prison and somebody is to blame for that.”

Anger was rising and she didn’t do much to stop it from seeping in to her tone. “Well, that person isn’t me.”

Silence suddenly descended.

Oh, fuck.

Then, a voice came from beside her.

“Hosea mentioned the bank first, Dutch,” Arthur said evenly.

To her left, Sadie nodded. “If she was workin’ for Bronte, Dutch, or anyone else, she would have left. She stayed and worked harder than anyone to keep us goin’ and rebuild.”

The sudden murmurings of agreement from the group seemed to faintly rattle Dutch, to her eyes, anyway. Then, he found her gaze again, and smiled.

“My dear Annie, please forgive me. I believe my weariness from the past few weeks has clouded my judgement. I am sorry.”

She didn’t know how she managed the smile, as light as it was. “Of course, Dutch. I understand.”

Abigail stepped forward, a bowl in her hands. “Come over here and sit down, Dutch, have some food.”

“Thank you, my dear.”

The moment his back turned and conversations resumed, Ada dropped her arms and strode to the back of the cabin. Arthur caught Sadie’s eye and was taken aback to find anger in them. She nodded in the direction Ada had gone, and he headed in it.

Opening the door, the rain lighter, he stepped out onto the jetty that wrapped around the side and back of the shed, finding Ada standing at the wooden railing, her hands gripping it as she stared across the river.

“You all righ’?” he murmured, joining her.

“No.” The word leapt out of her, desperate to finally be released. “No, I’m not.” She inhaled a sharp breath. “Granted, he was partly right in his thinking, of course, I didn’t just find it but I did not do it on purpose, I did not know what it would lead to, I am not responsible for their deaths, I’m not.”

He realised, then.

She’d struggled more than she’d let on.

That’s why Sadie had looked so angry.

How many times had she had to convince Ada it hadn’t been her fault?

Had it been duty or guilt fuelling her over the past month?

“It ain’t your fault at all,” Arthur said softly, keeping his gaze on her hard features. “He was talkin’ in Guarma about... he thinks someone’s betrayin’ him.”

“Well, it’s not me.” She nearly spat the words out.

“I know, I know that.” His hand settled over hers, his thumb stroking her skin. “If he really thought it was you he wouldn’t have dropped it.”

“Maybe.”

He could feel how tense she was, see it, but this was going to have to be a conversation for another time. They were too confined, too close to the others.

“Hey,” he murmured, squeezing her hand gently, “Take me to Ophelia, I gotta see my other favourite girl.”

That made the corner of her mouth lift slightly.

“I’m competing with a horse?”

“Yeah, and I ain’t gonna lie, your chances ain’t good.”

He relaxed as she laughed and her fingers laced with his, leading him around to the front of the cabin. “Come on, then, you fool.”

Neither of them heard the quiet boots that moved along the jetty, pausing to watch them disappear out of sight.

Micah smiled as he lit himself a cigarette, his eyes shifting across to the river, watching the water move.

—

Ophelia, quite rightly, was slightly put-out when Arthur and Ada approached her. She tossed her head and whinnied loudly, snorting and eyeing Arthur.

“Hey, girl,” he murmured, releasing his hold on Ada so he could stroke Ophelia’s neck and forehead. “Hey, I’m sorry, I know, you’re all righ’, though...”

She’d told him earlier about how Sadie and Karen had found her at Shady Belle when they’d gone back to the house a few days after the failed robbery to see if any of the men were there. Men were there, but not their men. Luckily, Ophelia was smart enough to evade them and bolt away, and the two women had gone after her, finding her in a patch of woods.

The men had been Pinkertons, and they’d soon found out after a few trips back that the men would visit the house seemingly every day, even all this time later. Sadie and someone else would still go, though, to see if any clues were left, and it was Sadie who left a letter the last time they went, knowing making so many trips was risky.

Ophelia quickly settled, pushing her muzzle against him and snorting quietly. He smiled, continuing to murmur to her. Ada couldn’t stop her own smile as she watched, before another whinny drew her attention.

"Who’s this?” she asked, raising her eyebrows as she spotted the Hungarian-Halfbred.

Arthur glanced over, stroking his hand down Ophelia’s neck. “Ah, that’s my new friend. Hijacked her from Van Horn to get here.”

“Oh?” Her smile widened as she stepped towards the horse, stroking her fingertips against her forehead. “Well, I think I owe you a thank you and debt of gratitude, then.”

“Have her.”

Her eyebrows rose as she looked at him, patting the horse’s neck. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. She’s good, solid, not a racer but got a good speed to her.”

“Well, thank you.” Her lips twitched as she scratched behind the horse’s ear. “You know, most women get jewellery.”

“I’ll steal that next time.”

She exhaled a laugh, her smile lingering as she gazed at the horse. “Hello,” she murmured as the tall piebald nudged at her arm. “I’ll have to think of what to call you. I suppose Lucky is a little too on the nose...” Raising her voice slightly so Arthur could hear, she said, ”What about Maggie? I always liked that name. Mags for short.”

“I like it.” He opened his mouth to continue, when his gaze suddenly darted over her shoulder and he frowned.

“Bill?”

Turning, Ada watched Bill stomp towards them, pissed off as always, his beard somehow bigger.

“Oh, thank God, here is where you all is!”

Arthur sighed and approached, waving him towards the main shack. “All righ’, all righ’, Christ, come on, inside. There’s hot food and coffee.”

“Oh, thank God...” Bill sped up, moving ahead of them.

Ada laughed under her breath as she watched him, and Arthur joined her at her side. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, her’s going around his waist, they walked up to the shack together.

“Glad to have us all back, huh?”

She snorted.“Hmmh... Things will certainly be interesting again.”

When they reached the shack and entered, Bill was still grumbling on to everyone.

“... asked everyone I could find and eventually someone knew! Said you fools were out here.”

He didn’t seem to realise everyone was staring at him, and Ada felt her stomach twist.

Oh, fuck...

“Shit, get me a drink or somethin’!” he said to Sadie, the woman clearly seething.

“Get your own damn drink!” Sadie shot back.

“In our absence,” Dutch cut in before Bill could speak, his tone sharp, “Mrs Adler here has been looking after things. Now sit down.”

Bill clenched his jaw, but seemed very much cowed, and went to sit down, when the voice rang out.

“This is Agent Milton with the Pinkerton Detective Agency!”

Ada closed her eyes as people shot to their feet or hissed out a curse.

Oh, fuck...

“Already?” Dutch muttered, shocked, as she felt Arthur move behind her to peer out of a hole in the wood.

“Awh, shit...” he hissed.

“On behalf of Cornwall Kerosene and Tar,” Milton was carrying on, “the United States Government and the Commonwealth of West Elizabeth...”

“Here we go,” Dutch sighed as people drew or grabbed their guns.

“... we are here to arrest you! Come out with your hands up!”

Arthur had his back against the door, and was shrugging at Dutch as Ada turned, her jaw clenched. Arthur then moved to a window and before he could say a word to her, he was just left watching her stride to the back of the cabin as he heard Milton shout, “Let ‘em have it!”

Bullets instantly began thudding against the wood, flying through the open window and embedding into the wall.

“Get down!” Dutch yelled, and Arthur dove to the floor, watching Ada crawl across the floor to the back door.

“Arthur!” He looked to his right and saw Sadie moving, too. “Arthur, follow me!”

Gritting his teeth, he moved behind her, the bullets relentless.

“Asked everyone you could find, did you, Bill?!” he yelled as they passed the cursing man.

For once, the man had nothing to snap back, his face red.

“This is real bad!” Sadie called to him as they continued on, Ada already out of the door, rising to her feet.

He heard Tilly and Mary-Beth scream as the bullets were just not stopping.

And, yes... there was the unmistakable sound of a Gatling Gun.

“Stay down, all of you!” he shouted, when a bullet hit a lantern beside him, bursting into flames. Gritting his teeth as he and Sadie reached the door, passing through it and closing it behind them, he released a sharp breath, looking to her... and he then realised she was looking to Ada, the woman waiting for them, a revolver from her belt in her hand.

“Come on, this way,” she murmured, moving along the jetty.

“Where are we goin’?” Arthur said, keeping his voice down as they kept low, darting across the wooden boards.

“This way,” Ada answered, moving to the right, “There’s a trapdoor into the other house.”

“We can try to flank ‘em,” Sadie added.

Then, Ada dropped out of sight, and he noticed it a moment later; a square cut out of the jetty, revealing the muddy bank below. Sadie dropped down next, then him and he just followed them as they moved quickly under the stilts and wooden boars that kept the jetty and shacks up. The gang was firing back, he could hear, the sound deafening.

There was suddenly a square of light a few feet away and they ran to it, Ada lifting herself up through it first, then Sadie then him.

“Come on, quick,” Sadie murmured to him as they made it into the house.

“You fools weren’t listening to me, were you?” they could hear Milton shouting as Sadie took one side of the front doors and Ada took the other, Arthur joining her. “I showed mercy... you mistook it for weakness!”

Sadie met Ada’s gaze when, suddenly, there was silence.

“Why've they stopped shootin’?” she hissed as Ada paused, straining to hear.

“Now...” Milton continued, his voice ringing out. “... I will show strength, and you may mistake it for brutality. There is no escape for any of you! I shall hunt you to the ends of the earth and to the end of time!”

Arthur, peering through a gap in the wood, staring at Milton, felt rage surge within him.

Not on this fuckin’ day.

Not when he’d just got those he loved dear back.

“This idiot is really startin’ to irritate me...” he murmured, his jaw tight.

Still Milton was continuing. “I’ve killed your friends, and I’ve enjoyed killing them!”

And that was it.

Pushing away from the wood, he moved passed Ada, caught the rifle Sadie threw to him and kicked the doors open.

“... and now I’m gonna kill each—” Milton started to say.

“Arthur, wait!” Ada called.

But it was too late.

“Come on!” he yelled, aiming and firing instantly.

He killed the man at the Gatling Gun as he heard Sadie and Ada firing, and shots started to come from the main shack, too. The Pinkertons scrambled for cover as he saw Ada move to his right, her body in front of his, and, God damn, did she shoot, both revolvers in her hands now.

“We need to push ‘em back!” he shouted, but the two women were already doing just that, their turn to be relentless now as they stepped forward with every Pinkerton body that went down.

The lanterns did just enough to illuminate the Pinkertons in the darkness beyond, and he didn’t think, just all hate and pain and rage for Hosea, Lenny and John.

“Take them down!” Milton was screaming, but he sounded far off.

God damn coward.

“They’re comin’ from the side!” Sadie yelled. “Come on, let’s push ‘em back, keep goin’!”

“Don’t think for one minute you’re gonna have all the fun by yourselves!” Bill called out from behind them.

He had come out of the main house now, joining them and firing at the new wave of men approaching. They all took their own route through the wagons and sheds, fanning out and crouching and rising to dodge bullets and shoot back.

“Get them, get them, get them!” Milton thundered, but he sounded even further off, possibly retreating.

Good.

“They’re hidin’ in the trees!” Arthur called out. “Get after ‘em!”

They used the darkness to their advantage now, hunting the men down. Bullets struck the trees around him, not one finding their mark.

“We’ll kill every last one of ya!” Sadie yelled from somewhere close by, and she ran past him suddenly, overtaking him.

“I have had it with you bastards!” Bill was also shouting, but Ada, wherever she was, was silent.

Oh, God, please...

Then, he saw her, far up to the right, aiming and shooting, aiming and shooting, her features like pure, relentless thunder. There would be the fire burning in her eyes and, God, he had missed her.

“We need someone back here!” he suddenly heard Dutch from back behind them. “They’re comin’ down the main path!”

He saw Ada lift her head, and she started to stride towards the path.

“There’s more of them! Get on the Gatling Gun, Arthur!” she called to him as she broke out into a run.

He started running instantly. Shouldering the rifle, he pulled himself up into the wagon holding the gun as Sadie followed after him, using the wagon as cover, and to protect him. Swinging the gun around, he fired at the main path, feeling the power of the Gatling shaking his arms.

The Pinkertons shouted to each other, ducking for cover or even trying to run back, but he could see, behind a thick tree, Ada shooting them down.

“More on the left here!” Bill called.

“And to the right!” Sadie joined in.

“Keep your head down, I’m swingin’ this around!” Arthur shouted. “Keep your heads down!”

His people ducked and he fired in a circle, knocking down several of the remaining men.

“There’s more of them moving in!” Charles called, out of the shack now and somewhere in the darkness.

“Charles, this way!” he heard Ada yell from somewhere else.

He was distracted by the Gatling juddering slightly, out of bullets. Leaping over the side of the wagon, he shrugged the rifle off of his shoulder and joined Sadie, helping her on her side.

Suddenly, there was a small explosion to the left, and he and Sadie jerked, their heads whipping to it. Ada and Charles rose out of the darkness, shooting at the men who tried to scramble from the flames.

“That’s it! Run, you spineless sons of bitches!” Bill hollered, and, yes, Arthur could see them, retreating and running for the darkness.

Charles and Ada didn’t seem in merciful moods, though. They followed after them and Arthur watched man after man fall.

“Arthur!” Sadie’s voice caught his attention. Turning to her, he found her smiling. “We did it! That’s the last of ‘em!”

Then, there was silence.

Not allowing a sigh of relief yet, he squeezed Sadie’s shoulder as they rose, his gaze darting between the trees.

“I think you might be righ’...”

They moved to the main path, keeping a tight grip on their weapons.

“Annie? Charles?” he called out, seeing no sign of them.

Then, he saw them, moving up the path towards them.

“Here!” Ada called, a smile pulling at her lips as Charles walked by her side.

All the tension left his body as he blew out a breath, Sadie chuckling beside him, and Ada smiled, looking up at Charles who returned it. He patted her on the back as they neared and she said something Arthur couldn’t hear that made him chuckle.

“Well, that was a nice bit of excitement,” Sadie sighed cheerfully as she turned and headed back to the shed, Bill close behind her. Charles patted Arthur on the arm as he passed, Ada stopping before him, her smile lingering.

“You all righ’?” he asked, his tone softening.

“Just fine. You?”

“Yeah.”

The smirk returned to her lips, and he opened his mouth to speak when she closed the distance between them and gripped the front of his shirt, keeping him close as she tilted her head back, rose up on her toes and captured his lips.

His arm instantly went around her, keeping her tight against him as he revelled in every second of the kiss. She hummed against his lips, a sound akin to a moan, and he fisted her shirt, answering with a groan.

God, he had missed her, missed this, missed just being around her and feeling her and—

“Hey!”

They drew their heads back and looked to Sadie, a grin on her lips and an eyebrow arched. “C’mon, get in here, ya love birds.”

“Yeah, thank you for ruining that, we’re coming!” Ada called as Arthur chuckled.

“You’re welcome!” came the jovial response as Sadie disappeared inside the shack.

The rain started to pick up a little again as they moved towards the house, arms around each other.

When they were a few feet away, though, Dutch stepped out onto the jetty and moved down the few steps towards them, Micah close behind him.

“You saved us, Arthur,” Dutch said, looking very weary as he surveyed the bodies and mess.

“Well, me ‘nd Annie, Sadie, Bill ‘nd Charles,” he answered, keeping his arm around Ada who was silent.

“Yes, indeed,” Dutch smiled, meeting his gaze.

“Well,” Micah said, sitting on a step. “We ain’t been back for more than a few hours, and look at this...”

“What do we do, Dutch?” Arthur said without thinking. Force of habit, and he felt it.

“Well, clearly we need to leave,” Dutch said, a slight bite to his tone. “It’ll take them sometime to regroup.”

Micah was suddenly off the step, approaching Dutch with his hands on his hips.

Damn idiot’s tryna look like he’s part of the organisin’.

“Mr Pearson, Miss Grimshaw,” Dutch continued, calling back up to the shack as people looked out, “start packin’ up. Javier, you and Bill, get outta here. Go and scare off any scum still loiterin’ about. We need a couple of days...” He took a breath, then his shoulders dropped as he waved his hand. “Now go, please, gentlemen!”

They left with their instructions, leaving Micah, Arthur, Ada, Sadie and Abigail around him.

“What next, Dutch?” Arthur murmured, his eyes remaining on Dutch because... there didn’t seem to be much of a plan.

Dutch braced his hands against the wagon beside him, leaning against it as he released a breath. “We just need some time, I just, I, I need some time,” he stuttered slightly. “Now, we can’t go east, ‘cause then we’ll be in the ocean, so we’re gonna have to go north, I guess?” Arthur chest hurt as he looked at him fumble for an answer. “I just need somebody to buy me some,” his tone rose slightly as he slammed his fist down on the wagon, “God damn time, one of you.” He straightened, looking between them but not quite meeting their eyes.

“You’ll figure it out, boss,” Micah said gently, “You always do.”

“What are you gonna do about John, Dutch?” Abigail piped up, and, God damn, Arthur could see him being overwhelmed.

“John?” Dutch said, his gaze finding her.

Abigail frowned slightly. “He’s in jail.”

“W-we’ll get him, Abigail,” Dutch stammered even as he raised his hands in what once would have been a soothing gesture. “Just not, not yet.”

“There’s talk of hangin’ him,” Abigail shot back, her tone now rising.

“It’s not gonna come to that,” Dutch dismissed as he turned away.

“Dutch!” Abigail called after him, and Arthur felt Ada beside him, stiff and unmoving.

Dutch was already walking away, though, heading up to the shack, Micah following him. “Not now, Miss, I...” He waved his hand without turning. “... Not now.”

They watched him disappear inside. Before any of them could speak, Abigail turned to them suddenly, her eyes shining as she lowered her voice.

“I’m beggin’ you three, he’s...” She swallowed, looking between them. “... They’re gonna hang him. It would break my...” She looked away from them as she shook her head. “... the boy’s heart.” She looked back to them. “Please do something.”

“We will,” Sadie murmured, squeezing her arm in reassurance.

Abigail nodded, swallowed and then turned and walked away quickly, her arms folding.

Arthur blew out a breath as he met Sadie’s gaze.

“Okay,” she murmured to them, “That’s it, I’m gonna go figure out how we rescue this bastard.”

“Now?” Arthur asked quietly.

“Yes, now,” she insisted, “I’ll go into Saint Denis, see what I can find out.”

“Okay,” Ada answered before Arthur could, her tone just as quiet. “Will you be back for the morning?”

“Oh, you know I will,” the other woman replied, a grin pulling at her lips. “Damn, I’ve missed all this excitement.”

Ada smiled as Sadie nodded at them before striding for her horse. “A one woman army,” she murmured, drawing a chuckle from Arthur.

“That she is.”

Taking in a breath, Ada looked up at him and took his hand. “Right, then, bed for you, cowboy.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am.”

—

“This is close, ain’t it?”

“What was it before?”

He snorted, settling on his side, his back to the thin cloth that acted as a curtain between them and the other ladies and Jack. Luckily, they were all asleep by now, exhausted from the excitement and activities of the day. The wooden boards a foot or so away was scorched from where the lantern had erupted earlier, but it was still intact and sturdy. Ada stepped across it, glancing out of the window, before she crouched and moved under the small, raised platform above that Sadie used to sleep on. Unbuckling her gunbelt and placing it to the side, she then untucked her blouse from her skirt and lay beside him, her back to his chest. His arm went around her, holding her against him.

She exhaled a long breath as her hand slid under his, making their fingers lace together.

“What a God damn mess...” he murmured after a few moments.

She hummed her agreement, and he wished he could see her face.

“Don’t think about that now, just get some rest.”

He was only quiet for less than a minute.

“I didn’t know if you’d still be here.”

He felt her hand tighten on his slightly.

“Of course I’m still here.”

Christ, the way she said it, the conviction... He wished it was just them two. He wished he could just... He wanted to put his mouth on her, to relearn all of her and just—

“I’ve got your journal.”

“Really?”

He could hear the smile in her weary voice. “Yeah. It’s one of the things that was saved. Mary-Beth ran up and got it.”

He paused. “Did you read it?”

She shook her head slightly. “No. Didn’t feel right to.”

“You should’ve.”

“Why?”

“Could’ve told you what I stupidly didn’t. How much you mean to me.”

She was quiet for several moments, to the point where he thought she might have fallen asleep and not heard him. He was about to close his eyes when she moved their hands up and pressed a long, lingering kiss to the back of his hand.

“Sleep now,” she whispered, tucking their hands under her chin.

—

The early morning light spilled in through the window, growing moment by moment. She could see dust dancing in it, endlessly falling. She followed the beam, her gaze reaching his features, the sunlight illuminating him in the semi-darkness of the shack.

She didn’t take her eyes off of him as she pulled her blouse on.

She’d missed him. Almost unbearably. She’d cried night after night after night as quietly as she could behind one of the shacks, face in her hands. Sadie had known, obviously. She’d given her her space, though, which she’d greatly appreciated.

Arthur wasn’t a distraction. He wasn’t something to take her mind off of her anxieties and irritations, he was... He was everything. He was what she wanted, what she needed, and everything that lay in between.

The separation had revealed that to her. It had also revealed that she could live this life nearly on her own, could look after and lead people, but she didn’t want to. She wanted someone, him, by her side.

And what he’d said last night... She thought her heart was going to burst.

She couldn’t help but think, then, of the girl she’d been before, the girl from Strawberry, the girl who’d wished and waited for more.

If only I could tell you what was coming.

And there was still more to come. More unnecessary gambles and putting people’s lives on the line, and Dutch... Something had changed in him, rather visibly, and Arthur had noticed it, too, even before what had occurred with the Pinkertons the previous night.

She thought she would have revelled in that moment, when he told her his doubts about Dutch. Would have had to have stopped herself from saying ‘I told you so’, but she had just felt... sad. It wasn’t the victory she had dreamed about. Despite all she and Sadie had done, leadership was now well and truly back in Dutch’s hands, even if he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. She’d had to bite her tongue when he’d looked all them all, helpless and without a plan.

The kingdom was falling, and the king was the cause.

She’d have to talk with Sadie and Arthur, plan what their next and final move should be because this couldn’t carry on any longer.

Arthur jolted awake beside her suddenly, making her blink and return to the present. She watched as he realised and remembered where he was before his eyes found hers. She smiled softly, finishing buttoning up her blouse.

“Good morning,” she murmured.

“Hey.” He rubbed at his eyes groggily, taking her in. She was out of the blouse and skirt from the day before, now in trousers and a cream blouse, her gunbelt back around her waist. “Where’re you goin’?”

“Sadie and I heard about an O’Driscoll camp not too far from here the other day. We planned to go and check it out this morning.”

He swallowed, his throat dry. “Okay, but we gotta move on.”

She reached over and pulled her boots closer, pulling them on. “Yeah, but that probably won’t happen ‘till tomorrow morning, though. We have to figure out where to go, exactly. Be smart about our next move because we can’t take another surprise like last night.”

He gazed at her, feeling both sad and in awe.

There was the leader she’d had to become.

Clearing his throat, he leaned up on an elbow. “D’you want me to come?”

A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth as she finished lacing one boot and started on the other. “No, thank you. This is ladies business.”

“Ah, I understand.” He smiled, scratching at his beard.

God, I need a shave.

She finished lacing her boot and reached over to take a sheathed knife that lay on a folded pile of her clothes. It wasn’t the one Sean had given her, he noted as she pushed it into her boot.

“Hey.”

She looked to him as she finished tying her hair back with a black ribbon, raising her eyebrows a little.

“C’mere.”

Her smile returned as she leaned down at his murmured request and pressed her lips to his. He couldn’t help but groan quietly, his hand moving around to settle on her lower back to draw her closer. He felt her smile widen a little against his lips as her fingertips brushed under his chin.

“I have to go...” she murmured, doing very little to actually pull away.

“One more minute won’t hurt,” he drawled, his fingers caressing her back.

She exhaled a laugh, pulling her head back just slightly. “Do you want Sadie bursting in here?”

“Hell no,” he muttered as he released her, making her laugh again as she pulled back.

“Well, then...” She pulled a thin, dark brown jacket on as she arched an eyebrow. “Besides, you need to rest. Sleep, Arthur Morgan.”

“I know what I need.”

She did her very best to look scandalised as she swatted his caressing hand away, smiling. “Plenty of rest before any of that.”

There was a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Why, I don’t have to do any movin’.”

She gave a quiet gasp of disbelief even as she grinned, shaking her head. “You are a scoundrel.”

“You love it.”

Before she could respond, he leaned up and settled a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her closer and kissing her again. Her body instantly relaxing and pressing against his did wonders for his ego. Yet, alas, a few moments later she broke the kiss and licked her lips to hide a smile.

“Come on, Morgan, let me go.”

“If I have to,” he grumbled, releasing her and watching her as she got to her feet, moving out from under the platform.

She grinned at how put-out he looked.

Like a cat that hadn’t been fed the moment it was hungry.

Ada pressed her lips together, though, when he also pushed himself up, grunting as he hit his head on the platform and muttering out a curse. Stepping out from under the platform, he rubbed his head and nodded towards the front of the shack.

“C’mon, I’ll see you out.”

Her hand found his as they walked out into the cool, damp morning air, the trees too thick to allow much light in to warm and harden the mud. She was about to turn to him and order him back to bed when Dutch’s voice sounded.

“White to D4...”

They turned together, finding Dutch sat on a chair on the jetty to their left, looking out across the water. Ada released Arthur’s hand as he frowned, watching the older man move his hands slightly as he stared out.

“... White to D4...”

She patted his arm and met his gaze, smiling lightly, then walked down the steps, giving him space. Rolling his shoulders, he took a breath and approached the man.

“You okay, there?” he asked gently.

“Workin’ it all out,” Dutch responded, not looking at him. “Once and for all, Arthur.”

Arthur hummed, leaning back against the railing and folding his arms, watching Dutch closely. “What now?”

Dutch’s gaze shifted to him. “We’re back... And I’m sittin’ here, and I am contemplatin’ the great journey of the sun, and considerin’ a famous chess move.” Arthur scratched his beard, his gaze briefly rising to meet Ada’s a little way off, her eyebrows raised. Dutch didn’t notice, his eyes back on the water as he continued. “Those oily enactors of a mediocre justice, the Pinkertons and their benefactor, the depressing millionaire Leviticus Cornwall, they want us, Arthur.” His voice had risen in agitation, his fists clenched. “They want us, and they are goin’ to have us.”

Arthur kept his own tone light. “Well, maybe they ain’t the problem.”

“Meanin’?” Dutch snapped.

He sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know, it’s just, well...” He chuckled slightly, then paused. “... I can’t help but feel we would’ve been better runnin’ off someplace else.”

Dutch now chuckled. “But the, the game ain’t over, Arthur. I mean, I ain’t, I ain’t played my, my final move but...”

As he trailed off slightly, Arthur had to stop himself from gritting his teeth. “I guess I’m more interested in savin’ lives than winnin’ at chess.”

“Then maybe life ain’t such a thing to cling onto so tightly!”

“No doubt,” Arthur quickly said, before gesturing towards the shack. “But what about the women?”

Dutch paused then, his hands dropping to his lap. He was quiet for a few moments. “You sound like Hosea,” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. “I miss...” He took a breath, raising his eyes to the sky. “... him.”

It broke Arthur’s heart because, God, he did, too, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t back down. “I asked you a question.”

Dutch looked at him. “What do you think?”

Arthur shook his head. “We can’t stay here. That much is obvious. But where are we gonna run to? I mean they chased us from the west, they chased us over the mountains, they ran us into the sea—”

“Arthur...” Dutch had closed his eyes for a few moments, rubbing his temple. He looked at him. “... do you have my back?”

Arthur looked at him, his hands on his belt. He felt angry. “Always, Dutch... but there’s more than your back to worry about.” Dutch looked away but Arthur carried on. “We need more money. We’ve been on the run for months now, and I seen you...” He lowered his voice as he leaned closer, some of the anger seeping in to his tone. “... killin’ folk in cold blood, like you always told me not to!” His voice had risen, though, as Dutch stood, shaking his head and stepping away, resting his hands on the railing. Still he carried. “And, I’m sorry, but I think that if we listened to Annie and Sa—”

“There is country in Roanoke Ridge, past Butcher Creek, I believe we could hold,” Dutch spoke over him.

Arthur couldn’t help it, the sense of relief that there was a plan of some kind. “Okay.”

“And you and Charles, you could take folks up that way. Micah...” Dutch trailed off for a moment, looking across the water. “... and I need to do some reconnaissance. I ain’t got a final plan, yet.” He turned to Arthur suddenly. “Arthur, I ain’t got a...” He trailed off again. “... I just need time.” He looked at him. “I need time, and no traitors.”

Arthur just looked at him, silent. Then, he turned and moved away, heading towards Ada.

She watched Dutch, his gaze dropping as he sat back down, his back to them. Her eyes slid to Arthur’s, her jaw clenched. She’d had to hold her tongue from snapping that Arthur needed rest, they all did, he and Micah included, and that she and Sadie could handle things, like that had been doing.

Her heart had fluttered slightly when Arthur had started to suggest that, but, there would always be only one leader here. Inclining her head, she gestured for Arthur to follow her as she turned and headed for the horses. Raising her gaze, she saw Sadie coming down the main path, raising her hand to acknowledge her as she drew her horse to a halt.

Arthur sighed heavily as he neared, running a hand down his mouth.

“Do you know it?” he asked quietly, watching her as she adjusted the stirrups on Maggie’s saddle. “Roanoke Ridge?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, taking a Repeater from the shed beside them and slotting it into the holster on the saddle. “There’s some caves up there, the locals call it Beaver Hollow.” She paused, then turned to him. “Be careful.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “We will.”

“I mean it. I don’t like it up there, Arthur, it’s...” She shrugged slightly. “It just feels strange. Charles and Sadie have run into the people who occupy the caves, the Murfree Brood, a couple of times, as I’m sure Charles will tell you, but...” She released a breath, gazing at him. “... Be vigilant, please.”

He stepped closer, his gentle smile returning. “Always am.”

She raised her eyebrows slightly, but she couldn’t help her own small smile. “We both know that’s a lie, Arthur Morgan.” She placed a hand on his chest, patting gently. “See you later.”

He caught her arm gently as she went to turn, drawing her closer. “Hey...”

She leaned into the soft kiss he claimed her lips with, her eyes falling shut. Sadie’s distant, pointed cough made her pull back after several moments, her smile wider. Gripping Maggie’s saddle, she pulled herself up and gathered the reins, gazing down at him.

Patting the horse’s neck, his smile lingered. “Come back to me, Miss Sawyer.”

“I will,” she answered, her features softening, before she turned Maggie as he stepped away, and headed for Sadie.

Arthur gripped his belt as he watched them, Sadie grinning at her and tossing her a couple of boxes of ammunition as she neared.

He watched them ride off, a tightening and anxiety in his chest he hadn’t felt before.

—

It had been far too easy rounding them up. Ada paced before the six kneeling men, tapping her revolver against her leg.

“I’m gonna ask again, and I’ll warn you, I’m really running out of patience.” She stopped in the middle of them, sighing. “Do any of you know Thomas O’Driscoll?”

A greying man tutted as he pulled a face. “Shit, you probably shot five Thomas O’Driscoll’s here, lady.”

She looked at him. “Colm O’Driscoll’s nephew. That Thomas O’Driscoll.”

There was silence, the men glancing at each other or staring at the ground suddenly. Ada glanced at Sadie who arched an eyebrow. That was different. The men would usually holler that they didn’t know a damn thing or plead that they didn’t know anything.

Ada returned her attention to them, looking from man to man. “Who can tell me where he is?”

The silence continued.

“Don’t make this hard for yourselves, boys,” Sadie called from behind her.

One of the men lifted his head and looked behind her, to Sadie, she thought. Then, he shot to his feet.

“Get ‘em, lads!”

“Shit,” Ada hissed as the men scattered and she spun, seeing a group of men running through the trees towards them, firing.

“Fuck, they must have gone out huntin’!” Sadie called as they ran for cover.

Darting behind trees, Ada gritted her teeth as the men they’d had captured moments before found their guns and joined in the firing. Flinching as bullets flew past them, some striking their trees, she looked to Sadie.

“Shit, there’s too many of ‘em, we better go!” Sadie called to her.

“We should spilt up and draw them off so they don’t follow us back to camp!”

Sadie nodded, gripping her rifle. “All righ’, I’ll meet you in Van Horn!”

“All right, be careful! I’ll give you cover!”

The trees were close enough together that Sadie could dodge bullets as she ran, weaving between them. Ada leaned out, firing at men. They were also hiding behind trees, though, giving no one an advantage. Bullets came from behind her, and she knew Sadie was firing to give her cover, so, taking a breath, she lunged to the left and ran. They had found the men at a top of the hill, so she took the route down the incline, sliding down it slightly.

“Go on, get ‘er! We got the other one!”

Oh, shit. Well, now I know the plan worked...

She sprinted as she reached the bottom, the men who were following her, mercifully, not firing. She and Sadie had left their horses some way back, near the road so they wouldn’t have drawn attention, but how the hell would she get to them from here?

She veered left suddenly, hoping she was going somewhat in the right direction.

“No, don’t, wait!”

No, thanks, I think I’ll keep running—

Something landed a little way behind her, and there was an almighty explosion. She grunted as the ground shifted beneath her, the force of it knocking her to the floor. She felt the heat of it on her back, the dust and dirt it threw up filling her lungs. Gasping in a breath, she grabbed the revolver that had fallen out of her hand and crawled forward, quickly pulling herself behind a boulder.

Coughing in to her arm to try and muffle the sound, she closed her eyes at the sound of movement several feet away.

“That’s his fuckin’ niece, you fuckin’ idiot! He’s been lookin’ for her!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know! Please, don’t, I—”

She jumped as a gunshot went off and a body fell, frozen in her spot.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

—

Comments and reblogs make my day in a way I can’t describe.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged in this series!

Questions?

Tagged: @belfry-bat, @sistasarah-sallysaidso, @ntlmundy

#arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x ofc #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 #my writing #flamehairedwritings

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jadetea-writing · 5 years

Text

VN Snippet #1

Little Jules Optima

(AN: Based on an earlier post)

"Oof!"

A little girl collides with Lorelei's leg—her leg won, unfortunately. She reaches down to help the kid stand up, and she's ambushed with the brightest smile she's ever seen.

"Oh my gosh! You're here!" the little girl looks at Lorelei with wonder, "Da–Father mentioned you were coming to visit, but you're really here!"

"Uh…" Lorelei looks at her girlfriend for help.

"Hey kiddo, I'm Scarlet, and this is–"

"Lorelei Linden!" the brunette cheers, "You're my favorite hero!"

Lorelei stifles a laugh at Scarlet's pout. Her girlfriend is usually the one dealing with cameras and fans, so she's accustomed to a certain level of attention.

"Yeah, that's me. I'm honored," Lorelei smiles, "What's your name?"

"I'm Juliette! But you can call me Jules!" the gi—Juliette gestures for Lorelei to lean closer, and she whispers, "I only let the people I like call me that."

"Juliette?" Scarlet suddenly perks up, "As in Juliette Optima?"

"Mhm," Juliette absentmindedly nods in Scarlet's direction, her attention focused on her idol, "Lorelei, do you want to see something cool?"

Lorelei has a silent conversation with Scarlet that ends with the redhead rolling her eyes.

"Sure, Jules, that sounds like fun," Lorelei laughs at how wide Juliette's eyes become when she uses the nickname, "It has to be quick though. We're supposed to be meeting your parents soon."

"I'll stay here, sweetie," Scarlet says, "Try not to keep the bosses waiting."

Juliette is already tugging at Lorelei's hand, "Let's go! Let's go!"

- - -

Lorelei expects Juliette's "something cool" to be a new toy or a game, or even an arts and crafts project. It's been a long time since kindergarten, but she's pretty sure that's the sort of thing kids bring for show-and-tell.

It turns out to be none of those.

Juliette is definitely an Optima. The girl can't be older than six or seven, but she's already dipping her feet into robotics.

"–and I call this one Alfred," Juliette points at a robot on treads, "Because he gets me snacks."

She types a few lines on her keyboard, and the little robot wheels away. It comes back a few minutes later holding a bag of chips in one gripper and a can of soda in the other.

Juliette looks at Lorelei expectantly, "Do you like him? He's still a little buggy sometimes and he only–"

"Alfred is very cool," Lorelei interrupts Juliette—the girl can talk, and though it's cute, most of what she's saying goes over Lorelei's head, "Is he your favorite?"

Juliette looks pleased at the compliment, but then she frowns and covers the side of her mouth to whisper, "No, but don't tell him that. He works really hard."

Juliette types on her keyboard again, and the little robot zooms away.

"Okay, I sent him home," Juliette swings her legs under her seat, "Do you want to see another?

"Sure, do you have a favorite?" Lorelei isn't usually one to spend time with children, but Juliette is quickly wriggling her way towards Lorelei's heart.

Juliette is not what Lorelei expected. She assumed the little heiress would be a typical rich kid—spoiled, sheltered, maybe even self-centered—but she's happy to find herself mistaken.

"Oooh, I dunno. I like all my bots a lot!" Juliette hums while she thinks. Lorelei knows the instant Juliette's mind is made up because the young girl bounces in excitement, "Oh! Do you want to see my newest bot?"

Her voice drops to a hush, "Can you keep a secret?"

"That depends," Juliette's face falls, "Do your parents know?"

The girl brightens, "Oh, yeah! I show them everything!"

"Then sure, as long as it's not hurting anybody."

Juliette shakes her head so hard Lorelei worries it's going to fly off, "Nuh uh! No way! My bots are good bots! Daddy just wants me to keep my powers a secret."

Oh. Lorelei's heart clenches. For someone so young to have powers…she hopes Juliette is part of the minority that get powers randomly. If she isn't, and her dad wants her to keep it a secret…

"Hey, Jules? Can I ask you something? "

"Sure! You can ask me lots of somethings!"

Juliette doesn't seem to notice Lorelei's concern, "How did you get your powers?"

Lorelei regrets the words the moment they leave her mouth. Juliette's entire body droops, and her face looks too somber for someone her age.

"Um. There were some bad guys who took me away," Juliette stares at the ground for a few seconds, then returns to her earlier cheer, "But my powers helped me get away and Daddy made sure the bad men went to jail."

Lorelei is only partly relieved, but at least it's not the worst case scenario. She examines Juliette, and while the little girl perked up again, Lorelei can see she brought up bad memories.

She takes a deep breath. This isn't really her thing, but…

"Hey Jules, do you want a hug?"

Juliette practically launches herself off her computer chair, but she's light enough that Lorelei can hold her pretty easily. The girl wraps her arms around Lorelei's neck and squeezes tight. After a minute, it doesn't seem like Juliette plans on letting go, so Lorelei takes a seat.

"How about I show you something cool?" Lorelei offers.

"Like what?"

"Well you see, I have this pet rock. His name is Flint…"

- - -

Weeks later, Scarlet comes back from a meeting with a glint in her eyes.

She sits in Lorelei's lap, "Hey babe, do you remember the Optima kid?"

"Jules?" Lorelei pauses her sketching, "Yeah. How's she doing?"

Scarlet bursts into laughter.

"What?" Lorelei pouts, "What's so funny?"

"It seems I've got some competition," Scarlet teases, "Jack thinks the kid has a crush on you."

Lorelei blushes, "Aw c'mon, you saw her. She's just a big fan. You've got lots of those."

"Yeah, but none of my fans want to build a robot to feed my pet rock."

"Did she really?!"

"She's been bugging Jack to bring her to work so she can give it to you," Scarlet smirks, "Should I be worried you'll fall for her fancy toys?"

Lorelei rolls her eyes, "You're not going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Never."

- - -

MANY YEARS LATER…

"I forgot I had this one saved," Lorelei shyly holds her phone out for people to see.

Dahlia tilts her head, "What are you holding?"

Lorelei smiles, "That was my pet rock. His name was–"

"Flint!" Juliette shouts excitedly.

Everyone turns to look at her curiously, Lorelei especially, "How did you…?"

Juliette laughs nervously, "I just thought that would be a punny name!"

No one buys it, but the conversation moves on—the entire thing is completely forgotten by the time Juliette has to choke down a spoonful of cinnamon.

- - -

"Yeah, our honeymoon," Andi says as she tugs her girlfriend away, "By-the-way-we-just-got-married byee!"

The (newly wed?) couple rushes out the door before anyone can respond. The surprise doesn't last long—Andi is involved, after all—and casual conversation starts up as the remaining members catch up.

A throat clears behind Lorelei, and she turns around to see Juliette holding something behind her back.

"Juliette?"

"Ha. Yeah, that's my name. Yup," the blonde shuffles in place, "But uh…if you want, you can call me Jules."

Lorelei's eyes widen. There's no way.

"Also, I've been meaning to give this to you for a while," Juliette holds out a box, "I called him Mason, but you can rename him if you want."

Lorelei accepts the gift, "Should I open it now?"

"If you want?" Juliette plays with her hair, "But I included documentation in the box if you just want instructions."

Lorelei sets the box down on a table and carefully opens it. Inside is a small robot that looks like Alfred, only the technology is several generations newer. There's a small remote and a booklet tucked inside as well.

"I…uh. I kept working on it. Whenever I got frustrated with other projects, I'd add upgrades or tweaks," Juliette shrugs, "It's still the original, in a Ship of Theseus kind of way."

Lorelei looks back and forth between Juliette and the robot. There's no room for denial, she's definitely–

"Little Jules Optima?" Lorelei says in a hushed tone, "But you–and we–you're…"

A familiar somber expression crosses Juliette's face.

"Oh, Jules," Lorelei understands—probably better than anyone else can, "Do you want a hug?"

It's a little more difficult this time around, but Lorelei manages to catch Juliette when the blonde leaps towards her.

- - -

(AN: The discussion about Juliette's powers involves one of my hcs—that powers tend to arise in stressful situations, and that Juliette got hers when she was kidnapped at a young age. Whether this is a shipfic or platonic is up to your interpretation. Juliette definitely had a crush as a kid, though.)

If you enjoyed this, you might like my other works on AO3, including my current project Revelations in the Dark—a Bat/Cat/MC rewrite of canon. I've just completed the first arc, which covers the events of S1 for both routes.

#villainous nights #juliette bat #juliette mcbatterson #juliette optima #lorelei linden #tea writing

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osmw1 · 5 years

Text

Crowbar Nurse Chapter 14 — Vows of Love and Banging Against the Wall (No, Not Like That)

“Three hours left until game over, eh?”

Kiryū looked as if he were lost in thought. Difficult thoughts.

“Since you’re so familiar with this game, Sera, lay it out for us. What’s our best plan of action? After all we’ve been through to train our army and to gather munitions, it’d be a waste to simply ditch them here. But if evacuating to the dating sim world is the better choice, then so be it.” “Hmm, what should we do…?”

I too had to collect my thoughts. Now that we had all cooled off, it made it a little easier to think.

“… It would be simple enough to go to the dating sim world. However, we would leave DMC3 in its ‘bad ending’, meaning that we might possibly never be able to return here.” “Perhaps. But since the game would be finished… the game might start from the beginning again.” “Yes, of course that’s possible as well.”

Elizabeth had a point. The game may very well restart.

“Once thing is for sure though. Now is our only chance if we want to save this world. The town may be destroyed by thermobaric missiles next time we come back. Not to mention that the player ‘You’ who triggered the ending might not want to simply give it all up either.”

Saying that, I then turned to the two of them with all seriousness.

“And so, let me suggest an idea. Let’s rewrite the ending.” “Whaddya mean?”

I nodded at Kiryū, acknowledging his curiosity.

“Before the thermobaric bombs drop on Confi City, we will go trigger the ‘truck ending’ conditions. If we manage to pull that off, then we can avoid the ‘thermobaric missile–strike bad ending’.” “… And on the chance that we don’t manage to?”

Elizabeth spoke with such nervousness, I could almost see her quivering as I replied.

“… In the case that we can’t find ‘You’ within three hours, then we would probably have no choice but to abandon them. If we can’t get the truck ending to start, then we’ll immediately jump to the dating sim world.” “Hmm… Well, it’s worth givin’ it a shot.”

Kiryū was willing. That leaves just one.

“If we don’t, it might come to bite us in our asses when we get back home. We’ll have to live with those demons, y’know?” “… Heh, I suppose so. Okay, then.”

She responded with a slight chuckle, but still evidently nervous.

“Yes, you are correct. It is obviously wrong to not save a life when we have the ability to do so. … The opposite was true for my last time. It was as if killing each other was the obvious answer. I didn’t want to die, so I believed that abandoning others was the correct choice. But that isn’t right, is it? … Truthfully, I’m extremely grateful that it was you two whom I met in this world.” “And here I thought your apprehension was towards us.”

I had hoped that cracking jokes would ease her if just a little.

“We’ll be alright, Elizabeth. It’s not like what we’re trying to do is really that difficult. All we have to do is run over a couple of zombies with a truck on our way out. If we really do find it an impossibility, then… yes, unfortunately, we may have to give up on saving ‘You’. But in that case, the next world we’ll hop to is a visual novel dating sim for girls. Sure, we don’t know which exact game it is yet, but think about it. We’ll have so much Kiryū-level eye candy to feast on!”

Elizabeth held back another quiet laugh as Kiryū gently rapped the back of my head with his knuckles.

We then spent about thirty minutes to talk over our truck ending action plan and equip our hellish army. Elizabeth didn't have the stamina to even be in a shouting match, let alone a full-on brawl with zombies, and so we delegated her to hold down the fort. With the troops standing guard outside, we figured she should be safe in the safehouse. That left Kiryū and me with a handful of soldiers. Our plan was to head to the end of Uptown, gang up on the gun shop owner miniboss, and then steal his grenade launcher. That’s where we were at now: duping the nade launcher at the gun range.

“Ah, jeez, I could really go for a drink right about now.” “I thought you’d be pukin’ already seein’ how much you just guzzled down.”

Kiryū poked fun at me, but I shook my head no.

“That stuff doesn’t hit the spot. It tastes exactly like booze, but you can’t get drunk off it at all.”

A disappointed sigh crept out from my lips.

“I wish I had some of the real stuff. That way, I can drink to forget all about this scary stuff and hurry home to snuggle in bed.” “… Are you scared?”

I couldn’t help but feel a little irked by his question as he handed me more launchers.

“Of course I am. How could I not be? You know we’re making a huge gamble for this city that’s potentially going to be wiped off the face of the earth in just a few hours, right? Of course I would rather just say ‘screw it’ and curl up in a blanket.” … But there’s no way I could possibly do that.”

I heaved the launchers into the buggy and then a deep, heavy sigh. I don’t know what he was thinking at the moment, but Kiryū looked straight at me before speaking.

“… You really are strong.” “As if. I’m not in the slightest.”

I brushed him off with another shake of the head.

“… If I seem in anyway strong, that’s a misunderstanding on your part, Kiryū. I’m wracked with anxiety over what if I made the wrong choice for us. Because the truth is I’m not strong at all, but that’s why I’m trying my damnedest to put on a brave face.” “Even if it’s just you putting on a brave face, I can’t count how many times you’ve saved me in this world.”

My thoughts froze as my eyes bulged wide. Still, I had to keep my hands moving. I began tying the extra launchers onto the soldiers with makeshift ropes. But as I finished, Kiryū faced me directly.

“… I saved you, huh? You sure like to exaggerate.” “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I haven’t. We’ve been in a hopeless situation ever since the beginning. But I’ve managed this far without losing my marbles was all because I had you with me.” “… It’s not like you’re okay just because you’ve met me. You’re always so calm and calculated in your every move.” “Think back to when I questioned Elizabeth. Do you still think so?” “Well… I mean…”

I looked down at the ground before I knew it. I mean, he’s right. He did lose his cool that time. Kiryū scratched the back of his head as he continued, as if he were felt awkward or embarrassment.

“… Like I said before, there’s no one who understands this all as well as you do, someone who’s a total zombie game nerd. Maybe you’ll be right. Maybe you’ll be wrong. But whatever it may be, you’ll have our unconditional support in whatever you choose to do. And being here in this strange, weird world, I don’t blame you one bit for thinking it’s scary. But there’s nothing to be too afraid of either… we’ll be alright. We’re in this together.”

He finished speaking by gently placing his hand on top of my head. It was obvious that Kiryū didn’t mean to hit on me, but rather simply wanted to give me a pep talk.

I remember thinking the same when we first met: Kiryū’s hand sure is warm…

I blinked as I felt the warmth of his palm. Whether it was intentional or not, it brought me composure, allowing me to think. … To think about how Kiryū speaks. How he can’t help but point out all technical inaccuracies. How he’s just a little too serious and a tiny bit tactless. I had the same thought before I fainted, but I’m absolutely certain I’ve met Kiryū before. No. I’ve heard his voice before. I thought about it at length and came up with only one possible explanation.

“… Umm, Kiryū?” “What’s up?” “I… I just had a sudden thought.” “Mhm?” “Kiryū, you mentioned you were a game dev, right? In Shinjuku?” “… Yeah, that’s right.”

His affirmation had a tinge of curiosity. Curious as to why I brought it up now. I looked into his eyes.

“There’s something about the way you speak that gives me a nagging feeling that I’ve heard your voice somewhere before. And, we were just talking about it earlier, but I said my friends and I like to hang out and play dating sims together.” “Yeah.” “Of course, that includes Rainbow Dreams as well.” “…” “It somehow came across my mind just now. My friend who’s a big fan of Kiryū Sōichirō had once showed me this video. I remember her getting super excited about how this game dev who was rumored to be Kiryū’s model posted that video. About a year or two ago, a video about a dating sim developer playing the party game Werewolf came out, right?”

His mouth may be closed, but Kiryū’s eyes were locked open. It seemed like I had hit the nail on the head. I leaned in close to his ear and whispered for confirmation.

“Hey, Kiryū. Perhaps your real name is…” followed by the name of the game dev’s in that video.

“… That’s me.”

He muttered and slumped his shoulders in disappointment or so I thought… but his bright red cheeks and banging the wall suggested he was more so mortified than anything. The walls of the shooting range were shaking by now, yet he kept punching with all his might. It made me wonder if he could tear down the building by himself. I suppose it was extremely shameful for his name to be doxed. Looking at bashful Kiryū somehow made me embarrassed too. I chuckled out loud before I could catch myself.

“Ahaha… I had a hunch, but I didn’t think you’d admit to it either. Oh, wow, Kiryū, so you’re the one who made Rainbow Dreams, hey? How about those rumors about you being the model for Kiryū? Is that true too?” “N-No way! I have nothing to do with that game! I was simply hired to do the programming for it, so I have nothing at all to do with the writing or art! The character designers or producers used my likeness without my permission is all!” “You are involved in the game then? That’s so impressive and amazing. It’s the first time I’ve met someone who was part of the team that made one of my favorite games!” “Gah…!”

Kiryū flinched as he saw my beaming face. Seemingly, he didn’t expect me to be so wowed by it all.

“… It’s a visual novel dating simulator catered to a female audience, y’know?” “I’m familiar.” “But it was made by a dude.” “And that’s super cool!” “Y-You think that’s… cool?”

Kiryū scrunched up his face, bewildered by the fact that anyone would think it was a positive thing.

“I think it’s honest work… But you don’t seem to like it very much, do you?” “… I didn’t have much of a choice; it was the only work I could get.”

I blankly blinked at his response as he avoided eye contact with me.

“No choice? Oh, that’s right. You seemed to know quite a bit about VR games, FOV, haptic feedback, and stuff like that. Was that what you really wanted to do instead?” “Oh, that… I’ve just been reading a lot into it lately is all. Not that I’m an expert in it or anything. I’ve made a little test project before, but I haven’t made any published any games like that before. … Making your own game with your own abilities then putting your name out there in the world… It’s a really daunting thing, y’know?” “Wow… But you’re still making Rainbow Dreams. I still think it’s amazing how you’re a part of this game that’s beloved by so many people. … Oh, Kiryū! When we get back, do you think I could get your autograph? I wanna brag about you to my friends!” “Whaaaaaat?!”

This time, he was flabbergasted but also looked as if he hated the very concept of what I had just said. I panicked and tried to take back my words.

“I’m so sorry! You don’t have to. It’s just that… I thought it’d be something nice to look forward to when we make it safely back home. But now that I think about it, you’re embarrassed by this all, right? Sorry for asking for such a weird favor. Let’s just forge—” “No, that’s alright. I’ll do it.” “Huh?” “… I’m nobody famous or nothin’, so it’s not like my signature is particularly exciting or what have you. But if it makes you happy, I’ll sign as many things as you want. So, let’s all get out of this together alive. That’s a promise, Sera.” “… I promise!”

I didn’t think I would’ve been so overcome with emotion, but I found myself jumping into Kiryū’s arms. After a brief moment of shock, he dryly laughed aloud as he patted me on my back. … And though we were surrounded by the unstoppable hellish army lugging around giant grenade launchers, we paid them no mind at all.

—We’re definitely making it out of here alive.

Whatever paralyzing fear I felt in my very core had disappeared in an instant.

■Werewolf Also known as Mafia, Werewolf enjoyed a brief fad where game developers and gamers would gather in person and stream themselves playing together. Kiryū is presumed to have most likely been roped into playing. As it was an utmost humiliating memory for him, Kiryū seemed to have tried everything in his powers to scrub the video off the internet but to no effect.

contents: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /next/

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mischiefandspirits · 5 years

Text

You Are NOT the Father

Tony gets a surprising revelation when he walks in on Young Avengers hijinks.

This doesn't follow Endgame, but there are a few minor things taken from it so fair warning.

“Hey, have you guys seen Spider-kid anywhere?” Tony asked as he and Pepper walked up behind Sam, Barnes, and Natasha, the latter of whom smirked and pointed forwards.

Tony turned, only to feel his jaw drop at the sight before him.

The kid he’d just been asking after was currently lying back on a weight bench holding the bar aloft. This wouldn’t be too alarming, except the bar Peter was holding was not only playing perch to Shuri, Loki, and Lila (the first two girls sitting on either side with the last balancing on the center), but was also being loaded down by weights Tony knew were specifically designed for the likes of Hulk, Thor, and Steve because he was the one who designed them.

Steve and an armored Rhodey were the ones doing the loading while Thor stood by Peter’s head like an over-enthusiastic spotter. Behind them, Harley appeared to be recording the whole thing from atop a beanbag chair while Strange meditated midair next to him. Cassie was leaning against Dog on Harley’s other side, eating popcorn and tossing pieces of jerky to the giant ant while Groot laid next to her playing a video game.

“What is going on here?”

Peter lifted his head just long enough to give the man a smile before refocusing on his task. “Hey Mr. Stark, can’t talk now.”

Tony turned to Natasha for an explanation, but Strange spoke up before he could.

“They are testing to see how much weight he can handle.” He opened an eye. “For the record, I don’t approve. I am only here in case medical aid is needed.” He closed his eye.

“Also for the record, we just got here,” Sam added, giving Tony a nervous look and gesturing towards himself, Barnes, and Natasha.

“And what’s your excuse, Capsicle, Point Break, Rhodey?”

Steve shrugged and carefully added another weight to the bar in time with Rhodey. “The kids were going to do it either way. I figured it was better they had someone to supervise. Besides, it is good to know your limits.”

Barnes snorted.

“I was also made aware that it is better to have someone to help manage the weight, which none of the young ones can do,” Thor added.

Loki sent him a look. “I could handle it.”

Thor gave her a smile. “I’m sorry, sister. You just look so small in your new form that I misspoke.”

The reborn goddess scowled then suddenly transformed into a man taller than Thor and as hulking as, well, the Hulk. “If I wished to appear a brute like you, I would,” he said in a gruff voice.

“Woah, Loki!” Peter yelped as the bar tilted with the unexpected extra weight and Lila stumbled, just managing to catch herself before she fell.

Shuri, meanwhile, looked unaffected, if a bit amused.

“Apologies,” Loki said, returning to normal, though the teen remained male.

Unfortunately, this merely had the opposite effect as Peter’s compensation for Loki’s added weight that no longer existed sent the bar careening the other way. Lila did fall off this time, thankfully into Thor’s waiting arms, while Shuri slid off the bar and onto her feet.

Loki was tossed onto Peter, who huffed at the impact and barely managed to keep ahold of the bar.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for today,” Tony snapped and Steve and Rhodey immediately moved to take the bar from Peter.

The kid grudgingly handed it over to the “Boo!”s of Harley and Cassie and the jeering “I am Groot!”s of said talking plant.

Loki pulled himself off the older boy, dusting himself off and giving Thor an annoyed look. “This is all your fault.”

Peter jabbed him in the side with his toes, saying breathlessly, “You’re the one who shapeshifted while sitting on the bar!” He then rolled off the bar before Loki could retaliate, coming to stand next to Shuri.

“Alright new rule, Young Avengers, no playing around with the heavy weights,” Tony said, crossing his arms.

Loki, as per usual for learning about any new rules being placed against him, looked affronted while Peter just pouted at his mentor. The three off to the side looked unaffected, Groot already having returned to his game and Cassie and Harley shrugging it off.

Lila, who was now sitting on Thor’s shoulder, crossed her arms back at him. “How are we supposed to test Buggy’s strength if we can’t use the good weights?”

“Buggy?” Peter muttered and Harley snorted.

“Now you know why I turned down Ant-Girl,” Cassie chuckled.

Loki tapped his chin, “He could lift up a car, then we could just put heavier and heavier things in or on it until either the car gives in or he does.”

“No. No, no, no. No more ideas from you, Orpheus,” Tony cut in. “I will come up with something. Something that won’t end in him being squashed by a car.”

“I would have spotted for him,” Loki tutted with an eye roll.

“Come now, the young ones are just having fun,” Thor said, coming over to slap Peter’s back. Lila, still on his shoulder, laughed as the boy stumbled. “And your son has proved he has the strength to stand with the mightiest of heroes. You should be proud.”

Tony opened his mouth to say he would be prouder if the kid would stop pulling stupid stunts before Thor’s words truly caught up with him. “My what now?”

“Your son,” Thor said, frowning. “Peter.”

“He’s not my… You thought the kid was… I don’t have a son!” Tony sputtered and darn it he could hear Pepper giggling behind him.

“He’s not yours?” Thor said deflating.

“No! Why would you think that?”

“Well, you know, the… technology…”

“Wait, Spidey’s not yours? Like seriously?” Sam asked and Tony turned to see him and Barnes giving him unconvinced looks.

“He’s seventeen! Pep and I’ve only been married for -”

“All due respect,” Strange cut in, dropping to the ground. “But I doubt anyone thought he was Mrs. Potts’. Just yours.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Tony asked, narrowing his eyes at the sorcerer.

“Considering your past, it’s not inconceivable that you’d father an illegitimate child or two.”

“Despite what you and many others might think of my past, I was very careful during my past… interactions,” Tony trailed off, very aware of his wife standing at his back. “I have no illegitimate children.”

“No matter how many women have tried to say otherwise. For the record, I had paternity tests done for both Harley and Peter ages ago.”

Tony spun around towards her and Pepper rolled her eyes.

“Only so that we’d have proof in case such rumors started going around the news feeds when the two became more public. In case your forgetting, I was the one who always had to escort your interactions out. I’m perfectly aware you’ve covered your bases.”

“So?” Barnes asked. “What were the results?”

Pepper chuckled as Tony turned to scowl at him. “They were both negative.”

Tony threw his hands up. “Alright, raise your hand if you thought Underoos was my kid!”

After Steve confirmed that Underoos referred to Peter, everyone in the room raised their hands save Loki, Natasha, Harley, and Pepper.

“Rhodey!” Tony shouted at his best friend, who shrugged as much as he could in the suit.

“I thought you were just trying to keep it on the down low.”

Something registered in his mind before Tony could continue yelling. Slowly he turned to Peter, who dropped his arm with a blush.

“Awkward!” Harley called cheerfully.

Peter shot him a look. “Oh like you never wondered why Tony’s always giving us attention out of literally anyone else in the world.”

Harley shrugged. “Nah. Though I think my mom’s still half-convinced she had a drunken fling with him and just can’t remember. Kind of wish she had, though. He’s already a better dad to us than my dad was to me and he doesn’t even dad us.”

“He totally dad’s you,” Cassie snorts. “He’s seriously got that whole dad-aura whenever he’s around you two and Morgan that he doesn’t have any other time.”

“I am Groot,” Groot said, shaking his head. “I am Groot.”

“He said you have the appearance of sharing roots,” Loki translated. “Also, you talk the same. His words, not mine.”

Lila nodded. “I would have thought he was your dad even if dad hadn’t told me you guys were father and sons.”

“Clint told you they were related?” Pepper asked and Lila nodded.

“He knows they’re not,” Natasha said, shaking her head. “He was messing with you kids.”

Lila laughed. “Yeah, I figured, Auntie Nat.”

“Wait, when did I get dragged into this?” Harley asked, sitting up. “People think I’m his kid too?”

“Obviously,” Shuri said.

“Hey, I think we broke Stark,” Loki said, smirking at a frozen Tony.

The genius was still gaping at Peter.

“Tony?” Pepper whispered, setting her hand on his shoulder. She turned to the others. “Alright, I think that’s enough excitement for today. Kids, Carol brought back treats from her trip to Tønsberg,” she called before leading her husband out of the room.

“You okay?” she asked once they were alone.

“He really thought — They all thought that Pete — that both boys were mine.”

Pepper smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Everyone knows how much you adore those boys, and they both are so much like you. It’s not unbelievable that people might wonder. That’s why I had the tests done.”

Tony wanted to argue that, but found he couldn’t, so instead he focused on what had been his biggest point. “They thought the only reason I would care about them was because they were mine. Peter thought that!”

“Oh, Tony.” She pressed her face into his shoulder. “You know he didn’t mean it like that. You know how self-deprecating he can get sometimes, kind of like someone else I know.”

He huffed and she smiled up at him.

“He idolizes you. It’s not that he thinks you wouldn’t want to pay attention to him, he just doesn’t think he’s worth you paying attention.”

“That’s insane. That kid’s amazing. We need to work on that.”

“Pots and kettles,” Pepper mumbled before kissing his cheek.

I saw this post and had to write a thing. It was only supposed to be Harley at first, but then some of my MCU Young Avengers headcanons shoved their way in.

#MCU #young avengers #ironsons #ironson #tony stark

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cheeseeatingtrashmonster · 6 years

Text

Who Said That Every Wish Chapter 1: Before

After Felix finds out his father has been researching the Heroes of Paris, he digs a little further. He didn't expect everything to change. Curiosity didn't kill the cat, but what will it do to the turtle?

For some background, click the “keep reading” and scroll to the bottom of the post, under the dividing line.

Read on Ao3

Next >

“Who said that every wish

Would be heard and answered

When wished on the morning star?”

- “Rainbow Connection”

/*****/

“I want to quit. I don’t want to be a soldier anymore.”

Carapace looked stunned for a moment, then angry. "The city needs you. The team needs you. You can't just leave."

"I can't keep doing this anymore," Chat Noir said, shoulders hunching forward, a contrast to his usual confident, exaggerated posture. "The battles keep getting worse, the choices we make are too hard."

"That just means you're needed even more."

Chat shook his head. "It means I shouldn't be the one making the decisions."

"That's so selfish, dude," Carapace said, crossing his arms. Chat flinched as if the words stung. "I can't believe you. So what, you just quit?"

"Yeah." Chat Noir's voice was getting quieter with every word until Carapace was forced to lip read. "You guys'll be better off without me."

/*****/

The Previous Tuesday

"Nice of you to show up," Chat Noir said, dodging a cantaloupe.

"Nice to see you too, Kitty," Ladybug said. "It would be nicer if I had gotten to eat lunch before rushing out here, but looks like fruit salad might be an option."

"If you eat melons thrown by an akuma supervillain and then restore everything with Miraculous Cure, will the digesting melons disappear from your stomach?" Chat asked. He looked around them and spotted something. He made eye contact with Ladybug and grinned. She rolled her eyes as he parkour-ed up into a tree.

"’Sneaky cat in a tree’ is not a real move, Chat. And I… don't know about the melons. And now I don't want to find out." She swung herself onto the roof of a nearby house.

"Punny Chat would have eaten the melons without thinking about it. Would you have preferred that to me pointing it out?" Chat Noir said. He peeked out of the branches at the melon-throwing enemy. "I think the akuma's in his apron, but I haven’t gotten close enough to be sure."

"Don't be grumpy, Grumpy Chat," Ladybug said, yoyo spinning like a shield. "You didn't stop being my favorite just because I'm dating your twin."

"I miss the old days, back when you weren't dating my brother and the world didn't know there are two Chat Noirs."

Ladybug rolled her eyes. "I take full responsibility for the dating part, but you're the one that decided that one Chat dating meant telling the world there’s two of you." She took a run at the akuma before retreating in a shower of melons. They tried a combined attack, Chat shielding Ladybug, but they still couldn't get close enough.

Chat flipped open his baton with a growl, looking at the map of Paris. "Where is-"

"Sorry, sorry!" Carapace flipped off his flying hoverboard shell and landed next to his partners. "I couldn't get away, and then-"

"I don't care," Chat said. "Use your shield, get us close enough to take this guy's apron."

"S-sorry." Carapace tried to will himself not to blush. "Hey, Grumpy."

"You don't know if I'm Grumpy Chat. I could be Punny Chat." He didn't spare Carapace a glance as he deflected more melons.

“You know I can tell you two apart, right?”

"Can we get on with the fight?" Ladybug asked, gesturing towards the akumatized man cackling and yelling about declining melon sales. "Some of us have stuff to do."

"Right." Carapace called up his power, surrounding the three of them in a shield. They ran as one towards the the akuma victim, who had the intelligence to run from them. He didn't get far. As they reached him, Carapace dropped his shield, Chat knocked the man's feet out from under him, and Ladybug yanked the apron from his chest.

"Bye bye little butterfly!" she called. They didn't even wait for the cleansed butterfly to flap off into the sky before fist bumping.

"I'm late for class," Chat Noir said. He bowed to Ladybug. "Always a pleasure, Buggy." He straightened up and nodded at Carapace. "I didn’t mean ‘I don’t care.’ That was a poor choice of words, and I’m sorry. It sounded like you were about to reveal a bit too much of your identity, and I wanted to keep you safe. Be more carefully, Shelly. We need you out there. Good work today." He turned and planted his baton, shooting himself into the air before leaning forward to land on a roof. He ran from there, disappearing into the skyline.

"Was that a good thing? A bad thing? Does he like me?" Carapace asked, staring in the direction Chat had gone.

"He's… That's just how he is. It doesn't mean anything when he acts like that," Ladybug said, using her yoyo as an actual yoyo.

"So… he nothings me?"

Ladybug winced at how far Carapace's face fell. "No! He likes having you on the team! You two work together really well."

"But I still don't have a shot with him, right?"

Ladybug clapped him on the shoulder. "Who knows? I never expected to fall for his brother."

Carapace nodded. "I guess. How's that go-" His miraculous beeped, cutting him off.

"I'll tell you later. Head to class," Ladybug said. "I'll get this guy back to his fruit stand."

Carapace hopped on his shell and flew towards school. He needed to grab lunch before returning to school. Thankfully there was a place down the block he liked. He wondered idly about the fact that Chat had been heading in this direction, but dismissed the idea that they went to school together pretty quickly. He could spot the object of his affections without a mask, right?

/*****/

Felix walked into class like he owned the concept of mathematics. The teacher rolled his eyes but didn't comment. Felix sank into the last row with Nathaniel with a sense of relief he didn't dare show.

"I can't believe you made me take this class," Felix growled, pulling his notebook from his bag.

"More math won't hurt you," Nathaniel said. "I saved you something to eat." He placed a paper bag on Felix's desk. "Now take notes so I can finish this commission."

Felix took notes on autopilot, letting his mind wander to the book in his bag. With Carapace's help, battles were on average shorter in the past year. That meant more reading time for Felix. And more ballet time. And daydreaming time. Daydreaming time was starting to bleed into note taking time when Nath leaned over.

"I notice someone's not in class. So where is he?"

Felix hadn't realized his eyes were roaming around the classroom until Nathaniel spoke.

"Who?"

"Don't play that game with me," Nath whispered back. He hunched down towards his sketchbook a little further, hair brushing the desk. "I don't ask 'who' when you make comments about my crush."

"You really should, with taste that bad," Felix said. The conversation paused while Felix raised his hand to answer the question on the board.

"Chloe's your friend," Nath hissed, almost laying his torso flat against the desk.

Felix choked on his response. Nath glanced up to see what had caused the reaction and started chuckling.

"Shut up, Tomato Boy."

Nino apologized for being late and slid into his seat between Alya and Adrien.

"I do have to say," Nath said, ignoring the nickname/insult, "no one else in class has had a crush as long as you have. Marinette moved on from Adrien, Kim got over Chloe, even Mylene and Ivan broke up for a few months a few years ago. Maybe your dedication would mean something to him. I still say you should try to-"

"Nath, I will follow through on my threat to tell Chloe about your drawings of her as all the miraculous heroes."

Nathaniel quieted down for the rest of class, but Felix knew it was only a matter of time. The longer Nathaniel had known about Felix's crush, the more Nathaniel pushed Felix to do something about it.

In the hall after class, Felix pulled Nathaniel aside.

"I know you mean well, but please just let me be with the whole…" Felix hated that he felt his face heating, "Nino thing."

Nathaniel nodded. "Okay. I think you have a shot, but okay."

Felix shook his head. "He's liked someone for a while now, according to Adrien. Just let it go."

Adrien and Nino watched Felix and Nathaniel from across the hall.

"What's up with them?" Nino asked, flipping through his phone for the perfect playlist for study hall.

"Felix won't admit to anything," Adrien said, leaning close, "but I think… maybe they're… dating?"

Nino snorted. "I doubt that." He lifted one headphone to his ear, confirming that he had the song he wanted queued up.

"Why do you say that?" Adrien asked.

Nino froze, eyes darting to Felix and back to Adrien. "Uh, no… no reason. Let's get to the library."

Adrien started in on another monologue about the wonder that was Ladybug, and Nino let himself release a small sigh of relief. Felix liked him. He had known for a couple years, and still wasn't sure what to do about it. Nino opened his texts and scrolled to "In Case of Emergency.”

Nino: this is your daily reminder that felix, for reasons unknown, is crushing on me. and i still think you should tell me wtf to do about that

In Case of Emergency: I still cannot make that decision for you. He's a good person, if prickly. Treat him well. Do whatever you know to be right.

Nino: dude you are no help

"Who are you texting?" Adrien asked. They claimed a table and pulled out their textbooks.

"A friend." He put his phone in his pocket. "Did you understand that lesson this morning?"

/*****/

Felix knocked on his father's office door that afternoon. He knew Nathalie was at her weekly book club or Krav Maga class, whichever was on Tuesdays, but he was surprised his father didn't answer, if only to tell him to go away.

"Father?" Felix opened the heavy door and stepped inside. No one was there. He walked around to see that the design program was still up and running on his father's computer. He should be back soon then, wherever he was. Felix checked the table next to his father's standing desk for his permission slip for his ballet lessons. He sifted through designs he didn't care about, budget reports he really didn't care about, but stopped when he got to a handful of blurry, dark photographs. Out of curiosity, he picked up a few and flipped through them. They were of an animal in a dark alley, a person standing on a roof, a- wait. Wait a minute. That was-

"Felix? What are you doing?"

Felix froze. He could all but feel the cat ears he currently didn't have perking to attention. He forced himself to turn slowly to face his father, holding up the pictures for him to see.

"I was looking for my permission slip. What are these?"

"I believe those are Chat Noir," Gabriel said, taking the pictures from Felix. "It looks like him, doesn't it?"

"Sort of," Felix said, squinting at the picture that had triggered his realization. "Smaller though, maybe?"

"Younger," Gabriel said. He replaced the pictures and pulled Felix's permission slip from the mess of paper. "Did you know, some people think they saw Chat Noir up to a year before Stoneheart?"

More than a year, Felix thought. I started about five months before Mom went missing. "Interesting. I always assumed he and Ladybug were a pair. I certainly hadn't heard of either of them before Stoneheart."

"Yes, that seems to be the consensus," Gabriel said. He started rearranging things on his computer screen as he talked. "But if Chat Noir was here first… that does narrow down who he could be." He shook his head. "Both of them, I mean. That was quite the press conference last month. Two individuals splitting the burden of Chat Noir's mantle? I certainly never guessed."

Felix hummed in response, looking over the permission slip as if there was anything to look at other than the signature at the bottom.

"If you're going upstairs, please tell Adrien that his departure time tomorrow is earlier than we originally thought. Nathalie has the details."

It wasn't until Felix was doing homework that night that it occurred to him that normal people generally had no reason to research Chat Noir so thoroughly. There were identity theorists, sure, but that sounded nothing like Gabriel Agreste. What was his father up to?

/*****/

Carapace paced the ridge of the roof, muttering to himself. "Hey, Chat! No, that sounds too generic. Hello, Chat Noir. Too formal. Sup, Cat Man?"

"Would you like me to circle the block, let you decide on which greeting to use?"

Carapace jumped and almost fell off the roof, scrambling for a foothold.

"Dude! Don't sneak up on me like that! We should make you wear a-"

"A bell?" Chat reached under his chin to ding the accessory. "Did you know that when house cats wear bells on their collars, they become even more deadly as hunters because they're forced to learn to work around it?"

"Uh, that's kinda- I mean, you're totally a deadly hunter already! Uh, wait, no, not deadly. And you don't hunt. You do the opposite, and keep everyone safe! So, really, you're a terrible hunter."

Chat laughed. "Relax, Shelly." He stretched for a moment, eyes closed and arms extended over his head. It did nothing for Carapace’s composure. “Let’s go.”

They started running their patrol route. Carapace ran instead of flying. It was a different feeling, and an enjoyable one, but that's not why he did it.

"So, how was your… book? You like books. You told me that. I don't know what book I'm talking about because you won't tell me that, but-"

"Would you seriously chill?" Chat Noir leapt from one building to the next and did a shoulder roll. "It's a Tuesday night. Not a high-crime night for this side of town, so let's just enjoy the run."

Carapace would never admit it, but he was glad for the excuse to not talk. When he talked, he could feel every word putting more distance between them. When they ran, jumped, fought… it was nice. Running was also a good excuse to watch Chat without worrying about being accused of staring or being weird. The effortless grace Chat Noir exuded in all he did was entrancing. Carapace had always noticed this, from the first battles. He had been one of the few people in the city to suspect there were two people acting as Chat Noir. He had spent so much time watching the way Chat moved those first few months, that when Punny Chat had joined the team, he had noticed pretty quickly. Punny Chat was excellent as Chat Noir, but it wasn't the same. They moved differently. Becoming part of the team himself had confirmed it. Getting to know Grumpy Chat had been the best thing to ever happen to him.

"Do you remember those first few weeks after you joined?" Chat asked when they paused on a roof to look at the city lights.

"I was just thinking about it, actually," Carapace said, spinning the rounded side of his shield on his palm. "Why?"

"I was thinking of how mad Buggy got when you said something like, 'We'll get Hawkmoth. I'll do whatever I can to make sure of it.'"

Carapace made a snorting, giggling sound that would land in the top 20 of his list of "Embarrassing Things I've Done in Front Of Chat Noir". "She took that so wrong. Like I meant you guys hadn't been trying hard or couldn't do it without me."

Chat Noir lowered himself to sit with his legs dangling off the roof. "She told me she was worried that because you had the miraculous of the current Guardian, you would see yourself as the leader and try to boss her around."

Carapace sat with him, shaking his head. "Anyone who would want to tell Ladybug how to do her job isn't worthy of a miraculous in the first place."

Chat Noir hummed in agreement, pulling one foot up to rest on the ledge of the roof. His chin plopped on his knee and his hands circled his leg. Carapace watched him try to twist the ring on his finger, watched it pull at the glove, not rotating beyond where his skin would stretch.

"Any more news from your kwami?" Carapace asked, nodding to the ring.

"The ring is still stuck. He still doesn't know why. Still doesn't know if I'll ever be free of this stupid thing."

Carapace watched the twisting grow faster, harsher.

"You don't seem to mind being Cat Man most of the time," he said, reaching out to pull on Chat's wrist until his hands fell away from each other to grip the edge of the roof.

"Most of the time, compared to the rest of my life, it feels freeing." He tipped his head back, staring at the dark, cloudy sky. "That first year really did feel like freedom. Just me, in the shadows. Helping. Fixing. Harnessing pure destruction to make changes. Even after Hawkmoth showed up…" He glanced at Carapace out of the corner of his eye. "Did you ever hear why we split my miraculous?"

"You said you were under a lot of stress," Carapace said. He didn't know why tonight was one of the rare nights that Chat was talkative, but he would take what he could get.

"Stressed is an understatement," Chat said. "There was a lot of family stuff going on. Punny needed some support in changing things and all of a sudden our time was filled, nearly every moment. Then there was trying to sneak away from adults, teachers, and Punny all the time to fight akumas. I sometimes… When I'm stressed, I sometimes don't eat enough. It doesn't occur to me to eat, and when it does, I have no appetite. I didn't realize it was a problem until I passed out in gym class. My kwami hadn't noticed it happening. When he figured it out, he was livid. He made me quit some after school activities, and when that didn't do enough, he decided I needed to share the miraculous. He decided without me, really. He flew out of my pocket when my brother was in the room and introduced himself. After the screaming stopped, and he explained himself…” Chat looked at Carapace without really seeing him. “I love being Chat Noir, but I don’t love it like he does.”

Chat turned back to face the growing darkness of the city.

“You okay?” Carapace asked. He started and stopped a new question a few times before giving up and repeating, “You okay?”

Chat shrugged. “Something on my mind, that’s all.”

“Anything I can do?” Carapace asked. He reached up to fiddle with his goggles, inspecting Chat’s every move.

“Probably not,” Chat shrugged. “It’s probably fine.” A moment later he whispered to himself, “It’s probably not him.”

/*****/

"Who's there?" Adrien called, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he squinted at the figure in is doorway.

"Sorry to wake you," Felix whispered, crawling in the other side of Adrien's bed. “But I just couldn’t sleep.”

"How was patrol?" Adrien asked, rolling to face Felix.

"Carapace let me ramble like an idiot," Felix said, pulling the pillow on his side into his chest.

Adrien's tone turned teasing. "I think he likes you."

"Ugh," Felix replied, rolling onto his back. "Father said something about your schedule to leave for Milan changing. I was supposed to pass along the message."

"Nathalie told me, thanks." Felix tried to tell Adrien about the pictures their father had. He tried to make the words form. Instead he said, "Do you think I'll ever be able to stop being Chat Noir?"

"Plagg says something can reverse it, even if he doesn't know what," Adrien said. His words were starting to slow with sleep. "I don't know if I ever want to stop, though. If you quit, do I have to? I want to stay with Ladybug."

"Go to sleep," Felix said. Maybe Adrien should have been Chat Noir to start with. That was something to think about.

Welcome to part 1 of the Take Me Home series!

This story has been in the works since March of 2018. This is my nelix-as-a-love-square passion project. This is part 1. There will be 3 major parts (that I have planned), including this one, with some shorter pieces in between. Some brief context for this AU before we get started:

Felix and Adrien are twins. Felix got the Black Cat Miraculous before Hawkmoth appeared. Once Hawkmoth appeared, Felix's miraculous was split in two so Plagg could occupy one ring or the other at a time and split the job of Chat Noir. (See edorazzi's twin AU for the inspiration for this (but there's only one Ladybug in mine)).

This was started months ago, as I said, so some things we now know in canon don't exist in this AU. Sapotis happened, but Nino and Chloe got their miraculouses under different circumstances than the show. No one knows who any of the heroes are, except Ladybug knows who Rena Rouge and Queen Bee are (but they don't feature heavily in this part). Carapace is part of the "full-time" hero group with Ladybug and Chat Noir. And Nathalie isn't working with Hawkmoth, just because.

And that's all I can think of! If anything's unclear, let me know and I'll add on to this note or mention it on a future chapter. I hope you enjoy! A big, BIG thanks to enbyred / @little-red-alchemist-of-doom, my sister, my friend, my beta-reader, my favorite audience. I just wrote some words. You made this beautiful.

#miraculous ladybug #nelix #felix agreste #nino lahiffe #chat noir #carapace #caranoir #Take Me Home #Who Said That Every Wish #my writing

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