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kerie-prince · 4 years ago

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the intern

Peter Parker x Reader (college au)

requested: (anon) plz plz plz give me some college aged, super powerful ( think stark ceo powerful ) peter parker shit. idc what the rest of the story is about, i just need a brooding, smoldering, suit wearing, extremely expensive, college aged spiderman. plz and thank you!!!!

warnings: language

summary: When you start a new internship at Stark Industries, you're not only surprised to find Peter working as your boss, but that he's not the shy neighborhood boy you grew up with

a/n: this doesn't follow canon so for this imagine, hammer industries is just a rival company and the snap never happened lol also i don't know anything more than operating a phone so don't expect me to write sciencey, techy stuff lmao

(gif source)

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you were running across the road to jump into a cab that was available. Your phone hadn't been charging all night as you thought it had which caused you to wake up forty-five minutes before the start of the interview. You need this internship before you graduate from Empire State and get your degree in robotics.

On the way there, you nearly got car sick as the driver took sharp turns and nearly ran past intersections seconds before they became red. Once in front of Hammer Industries, your heels clicked loudly as you ran inside the tall building. You checked in with the front desk and took the elevator up to the 10th floor.

Just as you arrived, Justin Hammer was calling your name. “I'm right here!” you nearly tripped on your heels and your breaths were short.

“I've called your name three times, do you understand what that makes you look like, correct?” Justin stood unphased as you stood up straight and tried to steady your breath. “All these people are on time. Some of these folks have been here for hours, even.”

“Yes, sir. I’m so sorry–”

“Shame, I really liked your resume and your report on the expansion of nano-technology. Try again next year, maybe.” Justin started to call out the next participant and when she got up you stepped in front of her, “Please Mr. Hammer, I need this internship or I can't graduate.”

The people in the waiting room had their eyes on the two of you, tension so thick that it was almost hard to breathe. “Then maybe you should have come on time,” he pushed you aside to let the next person in to interview. You quickly ran back out and spoke to no one all the way home. Your eyes and cheeks were aching as you held in the tears during your Uber ride. The driver wanted to ask if you were okay, but if you were to break down in his car he’d probably be stuck having to listen to what happened and if he was honest with himself, he didn't actually care.

Once you got to your apartment, you made a straight line to the kitchen. “Hey, how’d the interview go?” MJ, your roommate, asked while still looking at her computer. You reached into the freezer for your emergency ice cream pint, snatched a spoon and walked into your room without saying anything. “That bad, I guess,” MJ said to herself.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

You sat with MJ and Ned in the cafeteria, but had not touched any of the food on your plate. Your head was laid on the steel table and you just continuously groaned. “I’m a failure,” you whined.

“No, what you are is fucking dumb,” MJ commented as she ate.

“Thanks, Michelle, that makes me feel so much better,” you looked up to glare at her before laying her head back down. Ned felt bad that his friend was in despair, “How come you didn't ask Peter for help?”

“Huh?” you lifted your head back up some of your hair falling onto your face.

“Yeah, Peter already works at Stark Industries, why didn't you just ask him to get you in? You could even skip the internship altogether and be in full time,” Ned suggested. You gave it some thought, but something about it didn't sound right.

“No, I don't want to bother Peter. I don’t want him to think that I’m only calling him for a job,” you sighed. Ned texted Peter anyways. Unexpectedly, Peter texted him back immediately.

“He says it’s fine,” Ned showed you his phone to read the text. ‘Yeah man, tell her to come in tomorrow and Ms. Potts will interview her’

You let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding and pulled out your phone.

‘Thank you so much for helping me out’

(…)

��No problem, anything for a friend’

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

The Stark Industries building was huge. It almost looked taller than the Empire State Building, and maybe it actually was. Your legs were shaking as you stared up at it. “Here goes nothing,” you assured yourself.

The lobby was bustling with people; workers walking around, a group of kids that seemed to be here on a field trip, and some teens taking pictures in front of one of Mr. Stark's Iron Man suits.

The trip up to the 17th floor was crowded with people as more and more entered in every passing floor. You had to squeeze yourself out and accidentally stepped on someone’s foot in the process.

Looking around, your jaw dropped. It was an open laboratory with groups of people putting together small robots, flying drones, and people laughing and talking. It was such a fun and cool looking environment, you wondered why you didn't just apply here in the first place.

Pepper Potts spotted you walking around and approached you with a tap on your shoulder. “Hi, I’m Pepper. You must be Y/N,” she reached her hand out to shake yours which you accepted. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Peter’s told me a lot about you. Come, follow me,” Pepper’s office had glass walls and a view of New York from behind her desk. You weren't particularly fond of heights, but even you would love to have an office view like that. Pepper gestured to the chair in front of her as she smoothed her dress to sit in hers. “So, I see here that you had an interview at Hammer’s. Can I ask why you chose them?” You didn't even know how they got that information. You hadn't seen or spoken to Peter in quite a while, so how Pepper knew that was beyond you. You sat there with your lips moving to say something but nothing was coming out.

Pepper seemed to have caught on what you were thinking and elaborated, “Before I do any interviewing, I do full background checks on everyone.” She had a gentle smile which made you feel better. You thought she would scold you or something considering the question did more than catch you off guard.

“My mother used to work there for a long time and I figured that I would follow,” you explained. Pepper nodded her head and wrote some notes down. She looked onto her computer and looked at everything there was about you. “Well, I see here that you have exceptional grades. 4.7 GPA since you started school and your paper on nano-technology has gotten much praise. I think even Tony read it.” No way. The Tony Stark read my paper? “So tell me, do you see yourself working here at Stark Industries?”

You looked outside and watched everyone in the open lab again. “Yes.”

“Then that’s all I need to hear. We’d love to have you here,” she reached over to shake your hand. You looked at her surprised and hesitantly shook hers. “Welcome to the team, Y/N.”

“Thank you so much!” You cupped her hand with both of yours and shook it a little too quickly, but she didn't seem to mind. You were ecstatic to start your path to your career, and at a dream place at that.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

Your alarm rang at the time you set it to, but there was no need for it. You couldn't sleep all night. Today is your first day of your internship and you were feeling so many things at once. Excited, nervous, happy, scared…

You tried to restrain yourself to a light breakfast, but MJ’s pancakes were to die for that you ate two whole stacks. You looked through your closet just about fifteen times; you had already picked an outfit the following night with the help of MJ, but when you put it back on, you hated it. It sucked for your roommate seeing as she had to sit through you changing from eight other outfits.

You tried to picture the lab again to see how other people dressed for a better idea to base it on your outfit choice. From what you remember, it was pretty casual, so that’s what you stuck to.

You were given your pass the day you were hired, so you had no issue walking inside. The elevator was just as packed as it was last time, but you were more composed so there were no toes being stepped on this time. You weren't exactly sure as to where you had to go, so you looked around to see if there were other interns to ask where to start.

“Y/N!” Peter’s voice surprised you from behind. Your shoulders jumped a bit, but relaxed at the view of his face. His face… you actually hadn't seen him for quite a while. Months, maybe. His jawline was more defined, and his once floppy hair was styled neatly. You tried to not look him up and down, but the temptation was definitely there. And the other thing, his voice was deeper than you last remembered. Is this really Peter Parker? “Hey, Peter.”

He gave you a hug that nearly made you lose breath. He was stronger than you remembered. A memory flashed back to when you were in junior high; you, Ned and Peter were hanging around the local park and you beat Peter on rounds on the monkey bars. He gave up after a couple bars, but you went back and forth a couple times. ‘Show off.’ But now, he had muscles that the shirt he was wearing hugged his biceps.

The hug was quick, and you had to pretend that he didn't just squeeze some life out of you. “Do you work on this floor?”

“Yeah, you’re actually assigned to work with my team. Come, I’ll show you around.” He started walking and you noticed how his posture changed. Damn, I know it hasn't been this long since I've seen him. Why does he look so different? He was wearing trousers. Trousers? Peter hates trousers. But his ass is looking great–

“Hey guys, this is Y/N. She’s going to be working with us as an intern. And I'll say this beforehand, no she's not going to be taking coffee or lunch orders,” Peter introduced you. There were various aged people in this group. Some were your age, and one person looked to have been in his thirties. Peter is in charge of this group? They all said ‘hi’ to you and went around introducing themselves.

Once that was finished, Peter pulled a chair for you on the table. “You’ll take notes for me while I give this presentation,” he whispered to you before walking in front of the table and started writing on the clear glass board.

He was talking quickly and didn't stumble over his words like he used to. Everyone was listening to him attentively and you jotted notes down as quickly as you could. Every now and then, you would steal glimpses of him and feel a sort of… well you felt something. Amazement? Inspiration? Adoration?

No doubt was Peter one of the smartest people you've ever met and here he was leading his own team and making potential products for Stark Industries at such a young age. Seeing him at work was so… it was indescribable to you but all you could think of was how different he is now. In a good way, of course.

Peter Parker has been your friend for years and to see him change from a bumbling, shy, adorable nerd into a confident, intelligent working man attracted you.

When you got home, you thought a lot about your first day. Being an intern at Stark Industries was really fun, so far. You weren't expected to do silly things like get coffee or lunch for everyone or pick up someone’s dry cleaning. You actually learned something and even had your opinions heard on some of the things that Peter suggested for his team’s upcoming product presentation.

If this is what it's like to be an intern, you couldn't imagine what it would be like working full time.

“How'd it go?” MJ stuck her head in your room. “It was fun. I'm working with Peter,” you explained your day to her.

“Cool,” was the last thing she said before she went to her own room for the night.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

In the past few months, your internship at Stark’s has been going swimmingly. Everyone's been so nice, and the work is so fascinating. You've gotten closer with Peter and along the way, he felt like he was more than a friend and boss to you.

Currently, everyone was getting ready for their final presentations for the upcoming annual Stark Industries Convention. It was going to be Peter’s first year presenting his own project with his team and you were so excited to be a part of it.

The time you’ve spent with Peter was really fun. He was a good mentor and a great friend. The only thing was that you couldn't help but look at him a little too long, and you’ve found yourself thinking about him during your classes or doing your homework. The shy boy from Midtown High was no more, replaced– no, grown into the Peter you know now. But you pushed all feelings aside to focus on your next thesis paper and mock-up of the handout brochures of Peter’s project.

Sometimes, you didn't even feel like an intern as Peter would ask for any ideas you had to make the project better and even let you help with assembly. He stayed true to his words and you’ve never once had to run for coffee or things like that. There’d be times when you would study some of the little parts under a magnifying glass and he’d come up slightly behind you and explain about some of the bits on the working table.

And every time he did that, your breath would be stuck in your throat and you’d have to remind yourself that this was just Peter helping you out and you’re just learning. But it was normal to want more every now and then… right?

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

The convention was just a few days away and you had trouble finding something to wear. These events were usually black tie events, but did that mean the presenting teams as well? Wouldn't that be uncomfortable?

One of the guys on your team, Richie, sat with you during lunch and talked about how he was probably going to wear the same suit as always. Not because he couldn't afford a new suit, but he was just a simple person and he only wears it once a year for the conventions and that’s all, so it’s still in mint condition.

The girls on your team and some from others were going dress shopping the day before and invited you to join. You were excited mainly because now you don't have to bother MJ for it.

Speaking of MJ, you were going to ask her to come with you. Pepper sent out the electronic invitations to everyone in the company and authorized plus ones to even interns. She’s never been to one – for reasons you were still confused about – but you wanted your best friend to be there for you. And if not MJ, then you bet Ned would still come with you. Wait, what if he’s going with Peter?

On cue, Peter had sat in the chair next to yours in the small break room, “Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey Pete. You excited for Saturday?” Peter quietly stirred his coffee and gave you a small smile, “Uh, yeah. I’m nervous, but I’ve worked really hard on this. And everyone, too. Including you.”

You slightly blushed. I didn't do all that much you thought. You two just sat there taking small sips from the hot, bitter beverage.

“So… I wanted to ask you something,” Peter started.

“Mhm?” The coffee nearly slipped past your lips. You quickly grabbed a napkin to lightly dab some of it off of your lips.

“Well, as you know, we can bring anyone with us to the convention,” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Is he going to…

“And I wanted to know if you were bringing MJ with you.” Oh. You nodded your head and thought you hid your disappointment well but without knowing, Peter actually caught it for a split second. “Good. You can come with me,” he smiled and stood up.

You were in awe; without effort, Peter just asked you to be his date for Saturday.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

“Dude, how are you not ready yet? He’s gonna be here any minute,” MJ sat at her computer per usual working. Your music was too loud for her taste playing from your shared bathroom. Peter said he would pick you up at 7, and it was currently 6:50.

You had put on and removed your make-up at least five times. Something was always wrong; one of the wings would either be thicker than the other, the blush would be the wrong shade, or the lipliner kept going out of place. But, alas, you finally nailed it.

Your hair was styled half up with elegant curls and braids. In between some braids were little bits of baby’s breath flowers. Most likely, you were going to have a hard time taking those out but they looked cute and it was too late to take them out.

Your dress was right above your knee and flowed comfortably so you wouldn't have a hard time walking. It was a neutral taupe color and had a V-line that ended just above cleavage and hugged the curve of your waist. You paired it with simple black heels and a small, white handbag.

“He’s here,” MJ informed you.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “what do you think?” You spun around and held your arms out. “You look really pretty. Now go get ‘em. I’ll watch it on the live stream.” She gave you a lazy thumbs up and resumed her work.

Outside was Peter in an all-black apparel. His dress shirt had only one button undone, and he had a loose blazer that accentuated the dip of his shoulders. He stood against the limo with his hands at his sides. God, he’s gonna be the death of me.

When he caught sight of you, he had a flirtatious smirk on his lips and held out for your hand. “Peter, where’d this limo come from?”

“Mr. Stark set it up for me,” he stated like it was no big deal. Must be nice being his favorite. He held the door for you to climb in and closed the door behind him. “We’re ready, Happy,” he told the driver. Happy rolled his eyes, closed the window and drove off.

The convention was off to a great start; Tony Stark came in with his suit as he always loved to do and started introductions before everyone else scattered around to look at the projects of the many departments in his company. Some groups of certain departments had large stages, some had small stands, like Peter’s.

There were still large crowds coming to see the smaller presentations, and everyone seemed to be fascinated with Peter's. You stood on the side as his team operated the machine and Peter spoke. He looked confident and it was mesmerizing to watch him.

After the night was over, all employee’s and some guests were brought back to headquarters for the after party. You walked around with Peter and had flutters in your heart every time he held the small of your back. The most exciting part of the night was meeting Tony Stark in person. He greeted Peter warmly, and then his eyes landed on you, “Peter, who’s this?”

“Oh, this is Y/N. She’s a friend of mine,” he gestured for you. You shook Tony’s hand and stood starstruck. “The one you don’t shut up about?” Pepper hit his shoulder and laughed nervously.

“Wait, I’ve heard about you. Buddy of mine works at Empire State and he showed me your paper, it was really good.” You were still shocked that he had even read it and here he was talking to you about it. You went back and forth talking about nano-technology.

On the way home, you and Peter talked and laughed about things you told him as you caught him up to what was happening on campus when he couldn't be there. It was a really fun night, and Peter was more noticeably relaxed now that the hard part was over. “Alright, home sweet home,” Happy announced through the window.

“Well, that’s me,” you smiled sadly, not wanting the night to end. You reached to open the door but Peter climbed out from his side. He walked around to open your door and just like he did earlier, held his hand out for you to grab and assist you out the limo. What was different this time was that he kept his hand in yours as he walked you to the door of the apartments. “I had a great time with you tonight,” Peter confessed.

“Me too,” your voice was soft and low for only him to hear. Peter’s eyes switched from looking into yours to your lips before he grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you. The kiss was needy, passionate, but had a certain gentleness to it. Once he felt you kiss him back with the same fervor, he deepened the kiss and brought one hand to pull your waist closer to him.

You pulled apart to regain your breath and looked to admire his swollen lips and he copied the same notion. He leaned in to give you a gentle kiss and pulled away, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Peter.” Your cheeks were flushed and your face was warm. You watched him as he left and ran inside. Upstairs in your apartment, you found MJ and Ned sitting on the couch with a bag of chips in each of their hands.

“Good night?” Ned asked. You just nodded and walked slowly to your room.

“We saw the whole thing, by the way,” MJ said nonchalantly. You looked back to glare at your best friends, Ned smiling innocently at you and MJ keeping her straight face.

You changed into your pajamas and laid on your bed on your back, looking up at the ceiling. You couldn't wait to go back to work on Monday.

—

requests open!

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #requested #requests open #peter parker au #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #spider man imagine #spider man x reader #spider man x y/n #spider man x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #spider man fluff #spider man smut

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fandoms-are-my-friends-1321 · 4 years ago

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Holy Matrimony

This is my first time writing for the Prodigal Son fandom, but I’m still excited either way. This was requested by @jiejie-eonni-onee-sama, and the idea is so adorable and funny. Gif and characters are not mine. Hope you guys enjoy it!!!

Description: Malcolm plans to propose to his girlfriend during their date at a fancy restaurant, but some of the team and his family arrive to make sure he doesn’t blow it. An unexpected quest also makes an appearance

Warnings: just some mild swearing, spoilers for season one, and a brief description of a crime scene, but otherwise none

“I know this is a big night for us, but you didn’t have to rent out one of the fanciest restaurants in town. I’m perfectly fine with a night in at home.”

Malcolm turned to look at his girlfriend of eight months as he continued to button up his white dress shirt. “Come on, Y/N. It’s going to be wonderful I promise. Besides, I would do anything for you.”

That was very true. This was the longest relationship that Malcolm had ever been in, and Y/N was different. He was worried after what happened with Eve, love would never return into his life. It did, however, and he was grateful to Y/N for all she had done for him so far. Tonight was the night he was going to show how much he loved her.

“Our cabs here,” Y/n said as she straightened her outfit. “You ready for go?”

“Yeah, just a few more minutes. You can go ahead down stairs, and I will catch up with you in a minute,” Malcolm responded. While Y/N was a little suspicious as to why Malcolm needed to stay back, she shrugged it off and walked out the door of the apartment. Once Malcolm was certain that she was gone, he opened a drawer that was located discretely under the bar.

He pulled out a small velvet box, and inside was the ring that he planned to propose to Y/N with. His family and friends were all supportive of this move, and yet he was still a little worried. He took a deep breath and placed the box in his suit jacket. “It’s okay,” Malcolm whispered to himself. “Nothing could possibly go wrong.”

Sunshine tweeted happily. “Thanks, Sunshine. The next time you see the two of us, you’ll have a new mom to look after you.” With that, Malcolm opened the door and dashed down the stairs to the cab. The giddy energy he felt fueling his steps.

——————————————————————————

The couple sat in a rented out section of the restaurant. Malcolm didn’t want to raise any extra attention when he proposed to Y/N, and while renting an entire room might have been much, he didn’t want to risk it. His family already had to much attention focused on them because of his father, and he didn’t want anymore.

“Excuse me, but I’m going to go use the restroom before our food gets here,” Y/N said as she stood up from the table.

“Sure, that sounds great! I’ll be waiting here doing nothing in particular,” Malcolm stuttered as he fidgeted in his seat. Y/N smiled at him as she walked out of the room. He’s a lot jumpier than normal, she thought, Perhaps he has a recent case on his mind. In fact, the only thing Malcolm had on his mind was her, and he mentally screamed as he placed his head in his hands.

“Oh my god he’s going to blow it. My son needs to get it together.”

Outside of the restaurant, Jessica Whitley was standing outside with a pair of binoculars, her daughter Ainsley by her side. They were leaning against the brick wall of the building across the street. The pair was trying to spy on Malcolm and make sure that he didn’t mess this up.

“Well, you know how my brother can be,” Ainsley replied as she examined her fingernails.

“Your daughters right,” Gil chimed in as him and the rest of the team walked up to Jessica and Ainsley. “Malcolm Bright does whatever Malcolm Bright wants to do. We can’t control him.”

“I’m his mother for crying out loud, so I have more control than you think. What are you guys doing here?”

“Coming to see how Malcolm will manage to pull off this proposal. Same as you guys,” JT stated.

“I think you guys are being to hard on him,” Dani commented, “As much as Malcolm loves Y/N, he will know exactly what to say.”

“That’s right! From my statistical analysis, their love for each other is 100% legit,” Edrisa added in as she appeared from behind Gil, Dani, and JT. “Also, it’s a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Whitley.”

“Likewise,” Jessica said with a smile. “Well, looks like the gangs all here.” The group waited and watched as Y/N returned to her seat at the table. The couple had begun eating, but the group that they didn’t know was waiting outside began to twist with anticipation.

“That’s it! I cant take this anymore. I’m going in,” Jessica declared as she shoved the binoculars she was using over to Ainsley. With determination, Jessica strides across the street. All the while Ainsley and Gil were trying to drag her back, but it was to no avail, and they began to follow her too. The rest of the team was close behind. However, another lone figure was lurking in the shadows.

“Holy crap, this pasta is the best I’ve ever had. No offense to your cooking of course,” Y/N said through a bite full of her food.

“None taken,” Malcolm replied with a chuckle. “I know how much you love Italian cuisine.”

“You know what I love more than pasta?”

“Day time television?”

“No, silly. It’s you! Ever since we first met at that crime scene, I just felt a connection with you.”

Malcolm couldn’t help but grin at the memory. Y/N was also part of the team, and the two had met during a case at a Bakery. At first Malcolm didn’t understand how Y/N was able to eat pastries while a man’s guts were strewn across the floor. Then he soon realized that she had witnessed a lot of crime scenes in her day.

This had to be the right moment. Somewhere deep inside, Malcolm knew that it was time to pop the question. Malcolm took a bite of his pasta, and tried to begin his proposal. However, when he saw his mom walk through the entrance of the room, he nearly choked.

“Mom! What are you doing here?! How’d you even know we were in here,” Malcolm questioned as he whiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Oh please dear, finding you wasn’t that hard. I came in because you need to stop stalling and do what you came here to do,” Jessica replied.

“Well I was going to say it, but-,”

“Jessica please, come back outside and let the kid do his thing,” Gil insisted as him and Ainsley enterted the room as well.

“Gil?! You’re here too? Let me guess the whole rest of the team is here,” Malcolm added with a wave of his hand. The rest of the team slowly made their way into the room, and Malcolm let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, now that everyone is here. May I please finish?”

Everyone nodded eagerly, and so Malcolm turned back to his girlfriend, who was still in shock by all the people who had just shown up out of the blue. It was a lot, but Y/N didn’t mind. Malcolm grabbed her hand, and Y/N’s E/C eyes met his icy blue ones. “Ever since I met you Y/N, my life has changed for the better. When I’m with you, the darkness in the world fades away. Now while I wasn’t expecting so many people to be here for this, I’m still certain that this is the right-.”

“Now hold on, my boy. Before you say those oh so famous words, aren’t you forgetting the one person that’s not here?”

The entire party froze as Malcom’s father, Dr. Martin Whitley, emerged from a dark corner of the room. Gil, Dani, and JT all pulled their guns from their holsters. “Holy shit,” JT said, “I thought this dude was in prison?”

“Yes,” Jessica snarled. “That’s exactly where he should be.”

Martin simply rolled his eyes at his wife and the others. “Oh come on now, you can’t expect me to miss the biggest day of my son’s life do you? I promise I will go back as soon as everything is done. Gil will make sure of that I’m sure.”

“Damn right I will, but for now I’m reluctantly allowing this to happen. No funny stuff though,” Gil said. Martin simply nodded as he gestured for Malcolm to continue.

Malcolm took a deep breath and focused his attention back on Y/N. “Well, as you can see my life is pretty crazy. I have a serial killer for a father, a mother who can sometimes be just as crazy.”

“Hey, that’s not very nice,” Jessica said as she pretended to be hurt, but her smile gave it away. Malcolm shook his head as he continued. “All of these people support us, and I plan to support you until the day I die, which hopefully will be a long time from now. So, without further ado,” Malcolm got down on one knee, and opened the velvet box. The central diamond in the ring sparkled due to the chandelier light from above, and Y/N let out a gasp. “Y/N L/N, will you marry me?”

“Of course I will!! Now come here my soon to be husband,” Y/N pulled Malcolm up by the lapels of his jacket and kissed him on the lips. At first her boldness caught Malcolm off guard, but he relaxed into the kiss. All the while cheers filled the room, and Martin even gave a few claps himself.

“So, will I be invited to the wedding,” Martin asked with a raised brow.

“Unless you happen to escape again, I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” Gil retorted as the cuffs snapped on Martin’s wrists. However, Martin only laughed at this. If he escaped once, he could easily do it again, and nothing was going to stop him from seeing another big moment in his son’s life.

#malcolm bright #malcolm whitly #malcolm bright x reader #malcolm whitly x reader #tom payne #prodigal son #Dani #JT #Gil #jessica whitly #ainsley whitly #x reader #fluff #fanfic #I’m sorry this fic is a lot of dialogue #but like it’s about the conversations that are going on #hope that works!

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wickedpact · 3 years ago

Note

i emerge from the abyss to tell you about the dream i had about 2 old 2 guard

so i think this was supposed to be like a trailer? honestly it was very unclear in the way that dreams are- actually. i think it started out as the intro to the movie and then shifted into a trailer?? whatever dreams are weird

started off strong with a flashback from decades ago (i think it was like, 70 years ago?) of nicky in either a hospital or a school, a young child in his arms and some other kids around him (dream me was THRILLED at this and had to pause the movie/trailer to lie face down on the floor with glee. i remember that Very specifically) and then it shifted into a trailer for the movie and things got. weird. (also my memory gets fuzzy about specifics) it was like, introducing these… alternate versions of the characters?? but the only one i (regretfully) remember is “nicolo tuo 2” (that was like. the name that showed up in text. i don’t know where the ‘tuo’ came from. my subconscious brain tried to create an italian word or something but i’m pretty sure tuo is an italian word that means like… you/yours? i could be wrong i just woke up and i’m not gonna look it up bc i’m on mobile and i fear losing the contents of this ask if i try to switch tabs) so anyways. jumping to what is definitely the worst part of this dream. nicolo tuo 2 was played by chris pratt.

i’m just giving that a moment to sink in. to feel it like dream me had to feel it. (the “it” is disgust)

(i’m pretty sure i can blame this nightmare on the snl sketch my parents were watching with chris pratt in it last night) - quite frankly i’m not even sure the other alternate versions of characters had different actors?? which i think might honestly be worse.

now crim, you might ask me “2ta, what happened to the nicky from the beginning of the dream? was he played by luca marinelli? is he still in this dream movie/trailer?” - yes. but god at what cost.

somehow. fucking somehow, it was implied that our nicky and joe (the real ones) were not together. and instead, if i remember correctly, there was a dramatic shot of nicky (the real one) kissing some woman, i believe in the rain? (the only thing i can think to blame this on, is the fact that i watched ricordi last year. and like if i’m remembering correctly the nicky in this scene in my dream had long hair kinda like i think luca had in ricordi) - everything other than that feels kind of irrelevant but there was like fight scenes thrown in there and i think like?? completely new immortals too?

idk at some point the dream shifts again and it’s kinda like completely different but also somehow similar in that it’s just all these new immortals (most of which consisting of being various fictional characters from things that i’ve watched and enjoyed) auditioning to be in the old guard. not. auditioning to be in the movie. actually auditioning to be in the group of immortals that is the old guard. this was taking place in like this. backstage theater style building and there were three different rooms with different things that had to be done in the auditions. the first room was fighting, where like, the new immortals that were auditioning were fighting each other and like everyone was in this room including andy and i guess the rest of the old guard (minus quynh, who shows up later) the next room was weapons, and there was absolutely no one in that room. empty room, bunch of weapons. moving on. the next and final auditioning room was… dramatic speeches. and that’s the room that quynh is overseeing. she’s like. happy and fully recovered from the ocean. that was a detail to this. dream me got to like talk to her (i was sent to find her by andy, if i’m remembering correctly) and she was really nice. and that’s pretty much where the dream ended.

(the relief i felt when i woke up and knew it was a dream and that chris pratt wasn’t actually playing a version of nicky in the sequel)

so there’s a look into my subconscious i guess. fuckin weird. i couldn’t consciously make this shit up if i tried. - 2ta

oh yeah also at some point there was like a new immortal who could like detach her hands? yeah i don’t know why that was highlighted or held in my memory but it sure was - 2ta

this was an ADVENTURE

"nicky in either a hospital or a school, a young child in his arms and some other kids around him (dream me was THRILLED at this and had to pause the movie/trailer to lie face down"

just reading this gave me Serotonin

“nicolo tuo 2”

nicolo. . . . .. . .. .... . .U2. . .. .. . .. ..... ..

"nicolo tuo 2 was played by chris pratt."

PSYCHOLOGICAL DAMAGE. SNAKES R MANIFESTING IN MY HOME RIGHT NOW

"nicky and joe (the real ones) were not together. and instead, if i remember correctly, there was a dramatic shot of nicky (the real one) kissing some woman, i believe in the rain?"

THANKS THATS EVEN WORSE

"and that’s the room that quynh is overseeing. she’s like. happy and fully recovered from the ocean. that was a detail to this."

love that for her

asdfghjkl honestly even my dreams arent this weird, if i dreamed this i would be Losing My Mind for the next 36 hours minimum

#anonymous #2thoughts anon

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magicalleprechaun · 5 years ago

Text

Thanks, Fri

Read on AO3

Since hanging out at the tower and unofficially living there, Peter learned that Friday was always right and always reliable. She could answer his questions. Always. No matter what it was. Peter trusted her with his life.

“Friday, why are my spidey senses going off?”

“A probable cause would be that Mr. Barton has entered the ventilation system above you, which was not designed nor has the structural integrity to hold his weight. I estimate that the ceiling will collapse in three minutes.”

Peter left the room and heard the crash of the vents falling exactly three minutes later. He timed it. Peter smiled. “Thanks, Fri.”

“Hey Friday, is something dangerous happening?”

“In the testing room of the developmental labs two floors down, there has been an abnormally large explosion. No serious danger has been detected as the danger was contained. Is this what you detected as dangerous?”

“Yeah, Fri. Thanks.

It’s not that Peter thought the world was gonna end every time his senses went off. He had more common sense than that. But he worried sometimes when it went off, and knowing everything was okay let him sit a little easier.

“Fri, what set off my senses?”

“That may have been the additional security on floor 72. One of the new PR interns set off a security alarm accidentally, and guards from surrounding floors converged on the area.”

“Everything’s good though, right?”

“Yes, nothing of note has occurred.”

“Good. You’re the best, Fri.”

“If you would be so kind, remind Boss of this fact.”

Honestly, sometimes his senses were so faint, he was just plain curious. Friday was a nice way to just get the curiosity out of his system so he could focus.

“Is something happening, Friday?”

“Miss Romanoff is working boxing in the training room. She appears to be exerting more force than usual.”

“Is she okay?”

“She does not appear severely distressed, though she did attend a confidential meeting including Secretary Ross.”

Peter felt a little bad about forgetting to thank Friday on the way to the training room, but he figured she’d understand.

“Fri, what’s happening?”

“Boss has made a false prediction about the maximum output of his new repulsor and has set a car on fire. It is currently being put out.”

“What was the maximum output?” Peter asked, curiosity piqued.

“267% of the output of his last repulsor design.”

“How’d he do that without being flown backwards? Or melting the glove?”

“The former answer is that he didn’t. I have ordered a new desk for him. The latter you will need to ask yourself.”

Peter laughed and stood from the couch. “Thanks Fri!” He chimed as he ran to the elevator.

“How are we doing Friday?”

“There are no dangerous situations nearby, if you are referring to your senses. My guess would be that they were set off as Mr. Rogers entered the building.”

“Thanks Friday,” Peter said as he left the common area and hid in his bedroom. He figured now wasn’t a good time to meet, with the tension between Steve and Tony. (Steve, Sam, and Bucky started to hang around the tower after that. Peter wasn’t sure when they moved in, but he’s almost certain they live in the tower now. His spider sense stopped going off when he found them competing for 10th place in MarioKart.)

Peter swore Friday could read his mind. He could ask the vaguest question and she would know what he meant.

“Friday, what’s up?”

“Mr. Rogers forgot that metal cannot be microwaved. Mr. Wilson is handling the situation.”

“Thanks Fri. That’s awesome,” Peter snorted.

“Give me the tea, Friday,”

“Mr. Wilson has found the web shooters that you left on the kitchen table last night. He has since proceeded to web himself, Mr. Barnes, and Boss to the wall. I also estimate that seventy four percent of the room has been covered in your webs.”

Peter laughed.

“Boss has also asked that you bring your web dissolving solution to the common area.”

If Peter brought the slow working web dissolved, sue him. He wanted time to take pictures.

“What’s up Friday?”

“Lightning from the storm has hit the building, though all energy from the storm is being stored in batteries and poses no danger.”

“Thanks Fri. You’re the best.”

“What’s up, Fri?”

No answer. Peter was pretty sure he felt his spider sense kick up a notch. Or maybe it was the anxiety of knowing Friday wasn’t watching his back. Who knows?

“Fri?” He called out again. Still no answer.

“Tony!” Peter called, his spider sense racketing up again. He ran from his bedroom to find Tony.

He wasn’t in his bedroom, which freaked Peter out more than he knew it should have. It’s not like Tony was in his bedroom often. But still, it was one place Tony wasn’t during an emergency.

Peter races to the elecator, trying not to freak out because it was the first place he looked and Tony could be anywhere in the tower and fine.

Peter glanced out of the elevator and decided that Tony wasn’t in the common room either.

So he had to bye in the lab or in his office. Because those were the only two options. Nothing else was acceptable. It couldn’t happen, not again.

No. No freaking out until he knew something was wrong. Everything could be completely fine and Tony was just updating Friday and that was why she was offline and his spider sense just went off because he got anxious.

The elevator opened silently to the lab and Peter took in the situation in front of him. Three men in black had their backs turned to him. He couldn’t see any guns but he could guess that they were big by the way the men held their weight. Not exactly great. And all three guns were pointed at Tony. Tony, who had his hands up. Tony, who wasn’t fighting back. Tony, who didn’t have his fucking armor because Friday was down and he was completely exposed. Shit.

Tony made eye contact for the briefest second before looking back at the gunmen. His face never gave anything away, but Peter could hear him take fuller breaths, and could see his hands relax in the slightest. And it really shouldn’t be hitting Peter now that Tony trusted him to not screw it all up. That Tony trusted him with his life.

While making a quick plan, Peter was suddenly very thankful for a lot of things:

The gunmen had cornered Tony and hadn't had a lookout, so they didn’t see Peter.

Natasha worked with him on stealth just a few days ago.

Peter’s last project had been webfluid.

His desk was closer to the elevator than Tony’s.

He stalked over to his desk where his webshooters laid on the table, already filled with high-strength webs that he was working on yesterday. He strapped them to his wrists and, as a last minute decision, Peter snatched an Iron Man helmet that laid on a shelf to cover his face. He caught Tony’s small smirk at that.

It didn’t take long for Peter to web up the guys. He thinks they only had training in intimidation because they just kind of stood there and didn’t put up any fight. Eventually, they were escorted out by SHIELD, and Peter and Tony relocated to the common area soon after that.

(As soon as they were alone, Tony doubled over laughing.Honestly, Peter was concerned he was going to fall over as he gasped out something about “zombie Iron Man”. Apparently Peter didn’t realize that the Iron Man helmet he put on to save his identity had been tinkered with, and half of the outside casing had been removed, so Peter looked undead. Tony had Friday play the recording of the horror on the men’s faces, and Peter caught one of them muttering “They’ve come alive to kill us all.”)

“Fri, what’s happening?”

“Nothing of interest is taking place in the tower, though your blood sugar is abnormally low, probably due to the fact that you have not eaten since your patrol 4 hours ago. You are currently at high risk for fainting, and I recommend eating something.”

Peter made sure he got up slowly when he got a snack. “Thanks Fri.”

#peter parker #tony stark #friday #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #fanfic #irondad fanfic #ash’s stuff

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diyunho · 4 years ago

Text

The Joker x Reader - “Trapped” Part 5

Almost one year ago, someone tried to kill The Joker in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way, getting hit instead. With a fractured skull and broken bones, she was out of business for 6 months; when she finally recovered, The Queen of Gotham wasn’t the same anymore. Trapped inside her own mind and exhibiting severe cognitive impairment, Y/N’s life switched upside down without any hope of ever returning to normal.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

4 Months Pregnant

“I need customized stickers that say Baby On Board for my purple Lamborghini and the other cars I drive,” The Joker growls at his own idea whilst sharing it with the person fulfilling his wacko trades: Franco Rossi, the leader of best underground supply chain in Gotham.

“When would you like them ready Mister J? After Y/N gives birth?”

“Nope! Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?...” Franco hesitantly inquiries about the sudden emergency since he can’t understand why The King of Gotham demands them so fast.

The Joker hates explaining yet certain people are obtuse thus they necessitate enlightenment.

“Y/N’s pregnant: when she gets in a car, the baby is also. Baby on board! Hello??” the father-to-be loses his temper.

Who can argue with The Joker’s logic? Nobody. It sort of makes sense anyway.

“Of course, Mister J. I’ll have them ready. If you drop by after 6pm, I’ll have your guns ready too.”

“Perfect!” the Joker hangs up among the ruckus coming from the office near the kitchen: sounds of shattered objects and yelling alert Richard aka Panda you’re at it again. He nonchalantly passes by in order to deliver the items to The Clown.

“Your drinks Mister J,” he gives one cup with Starbucks caramel latte to his boss and the other is placed on the table. Why does your boyfriend require 2 identical containers? It won’t take long to solve the mystery.

“Are the lids glued?”

Strange question but there’s a purpose in it.

“Yes sir. How is she doing?”

“She’s hormonal: breaking things makes her feel better which reminds me we have to hoard porcelain objects for her to wreck. NO glass!”

“Sure, I’ll tell the crew,” Richard leaves the kitchen while texting Frost. “Hulk needs more to smash,” he types the code name they gave you in the last weeks although The King knows about it: J’s the one that came up with it.

“Hey Pumpkin,” you are greeted as soon as you pop up from the office. “How’d it go?” he scrolls down on his phone and takes a sip of hot liquid.

“Ugghh!” a frustrated Y/N swings the yellow teddy bear The Joker stole for her on their first date, hitting his hand in the process. The drink flies near the fridge and splatters on the floor with minimal damage: only a tiny puddle instead of a disaster, that’s why the lids are glued.

Safety measure for The Queen’s unpredictability.

J grabs his reserve cup of coffee, paying attention now hence he dodges your renewed attack and keeps his coffee intact.

That’s why his drinks have the lids glued, in case you catch him off guard the second time it will result in negligible destruction.

It happened before.

“I don’t think so Princess,” The Joker strong grip on the container calms you a bit because you won’t be able to win this round. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” you pout and sit in his lap.

“I bet the baby is,” the secret weapon is unleashed: J discovered such a gem by accident and it works like a charm. How can Y/N say “no” if the baby is involved? She can’t.

A plate filled with a bunch of your favorite breakfast food is placed in front of you and strangely enough you’re instantly hungry.

“Extra bacon,” he purrs. “Plus chocolate dip and honey mustard for your pickled cherries. I added peanut butter olives as a bonus.”

In your defense, you’ve been having weird cravings lately.

You place the toy on the chair nearby and start eating, ogling a Joker texting back and forth with his business partners. He chews the morsel you just offered and shivers: waffle dipped in clam juice is disgusting. Maybe he should look at the food you shove in his mouth.

“Gross,” J washes the terrible taste with coffee and gets a kiss for encouragement, yet he’s aware of the connotations. Another kiss confirms it.

Let’s put it this way: besides the hormonal episodes and food demands, The Queen has had a fresh type of craving recently - The Joker kind.

More than usually.

That’s why he has to clear it up.

“I’m flattered for being the center of attention; we gotta keep in mind that contrary to the popular belief, I don’t have unlimited stamina, Pumpkin.”

You nod in agreement and unbutton his pants, then unzip them also.

“Y/N, pay attention!” J insists since you don’t give a damn about his woes. “Think about it as a two way street: The Joker Street and I Want To Break Things Street. Are you with me so far?” he double checks.

Why is he yapping so much??! I guess you should make an effort to comprehend: he’s even doodling patterns on his phone to emphasize the speech.

“When you get hormonal, Princess, let’s try and walk on the I Want To Break Things Street instead of The Joker Street, hm? The Joker Street is sometimes closed for repairs until further announcement.”

OK, OK, this is a lecture. Something about a Joker Street, he seems upset he doesn’t have one…?... Right?...

If you were him, you would be pissed Gotham didn’t name a street in your honor when you’re so important for the town.

Another peck on his neck, then your lips go down his collar bone.

“You’re not paying attention, are you?” J mutters when it’s clear his shirt won’t remain on his body for too long.

“I am,” you defend yourself.

“Oh yeah? What did I say then?”

“Ummm…” you try to piece together words among estrogen taking over. “No Joker Street?...”

“Bingo, that’s it Princess! No Joker Street, correct! Choose the other street, yes?”

This time he kisses you, excited his idea was well received when in fact, both parties are referring to unrelated concepts.

“Wait,” J dodges your touch, “Richard is calling.”

Because he’s on the phone ignoring Y/N, she is ensuring a nice surprise for later; concentrating to the maximum to avoid misspelling, the following message is sent to Franco Rossi from her cell:

“Make a landmark sign that says Joker Street.”

The King’s conversation is prolonged more than anticipated until he discerns you’re not wiggling: you feel asleep, softly snoring on his shoulder and he definitely can’t afford to wake you up.

The doctors said your body is trying to cope with the pregnancy the best way it can: if you doze off at random hours it means you ran out of fuel and you should rest. After cheating death and surviving the accident, the future mother is at high risk of serious complications which is why each day could lead to unforeseen problems.

The Joker rises from the chair holding you in his arms and after a few steps he realizes it’s difficult to walk: thanks to his unbuttoned and unzipped pants, they keep sliding lower and lower. There’s no way he will make it upstairs so maybe the sofa in the living room is the best option. He almost trips thus he begins to drag his feet on the carpet, the pants at knee level now.

“I’m reduced to a piece of meat,” J grumbles, finally making it to the couch and placing Y/N on it so she can have her power nap.

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

6:02pm

You accompanied The King to a meeting with Seraphim, the best hacker/strategist J uses: they’ve been plotting for a while concerning D.A. Kevin Winchester. The politician is becoming a huge pain in the butt for Gotham’s underworld and something must be done; either annihilation or blackmail, it truly doesn’t matter since he’s bad for business. Due to a total lack of interest in the subject, you are exploring the surroundings quite angry The Joker dragged you here.

Luckily there’s stuff to do.

Bam! you punch the fragile glass sculpture and it splinters into a million pieces on the lavish marble floor.

Seraphim jumps at the noise, immediately recognizing his beloved possession:

“That’s…,” he gulps, appalled. “That’s a Vitriol!”

Yup, the one and only Degas Vitriol, the latest sensation taking the art universe by storm.

“She’s hormonal,” J sneers. “She breaks shit!”

“That’s valued at 150,000 dollars!” the hacker breaths in much needed oxygen regarding the atrocity unfolding at his hideout.

“So??!!” your boyfriend sucks on his teeth, irritated. “Serves you right for buying that asshole’s artsy fartsy crap!”

The Joker actually has 4 Vitriol masterpieces at the mansion yet you were strictly forbidden to destroy them, alas he gave you the office for your rampages.

You continue your exploration as they talk about God knows what until you perceive an alarming detail: Seraphim is literally screaming having a gun pointed at J.

You sneak behind him then in a split second you strike the pistol out of his hand and your fist lands on his temple with such brutality it knocks him out unconscious.

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N???” The Clown hisses at your erratic behavior.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing??!!!” he repeats, annoyed.

“S-saving you…,” you stutter, confused on why J is mad. “He was yelling and…mmm, had a gun,” you wince in pain because your knuckles hurt from the impact.

“The guy’s half deaf and sometimes he raises his voice without noticing, or did you forget??!! Now I have to wait until he comes to his senses and that’s a waste of my time, Y/N!!! Seraphim wasn’t threatening me, he was showing me his newest collectible!!! I suppose someone with half a brain can’t acknowledge the mess they’ve created!!!”

A lot of accusations thrown your way still… the last sentence brings tears in your eyes.

“I…” you bite your lower lip. “…I don’t have half of brain…”

“Wanna bet??” The Joker bites more instead of leveling with your logic: you though he was in danger and took action. If it was a real emergency, yes, you would have been the hero; it’s not and apparently he can’t appreciate your fast intervention in these circumstances.

“Y-you’re stupid…” you whisper, frustrated. “You don’t understand anything…”

Here it is -- the cataclysmic event of the century: someone called The Joker stupid. He’s beyond outraged with nothing better to utter besides a very childish:

“You’re stupid!”

Y/N turns around and stomps out of the house leaving a trail of destruction outside: she slaps the bottled water out of The Shark’s hand, kicks Panda’s shin and snatches Frost’s donut basically inhaling the sweet treat.

“I want to go h-home!!” you shout and enter the first vehicle you see, slamming the door so hard the window on the passenger side cracks.

“Jesus…” Jonny mumbles and being the sensible man that he is you are offered the whole box of pastries he purchased for his family. He can acquire more, but there’s no way in hell he wants to endure Y/N in the state she’s in.

Gotta keep Hulk calm somehow…

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

3 Hours Afterwards

You sulk when The Joker strolls in the master bathroom frantically searching the cabinets.

“Did you see my shaver?” he asks.

“Hm?”

“Did you see my shaver?”

“I…I wouldn’t know. I only have half a brain,” the surprisingly eloquent phrase queues J his woman is holding a grudge for his earlier statement. Why wouldn’t she? He was a complete jerk.

At least you didn’t catch on to the obvious: The King of Gotham doesn’t own a shaver; hair just grows on his head.

He glimpses at Y/N soaking in the bathtub with a kid’s book in her left hand and the right hand fingers sunk into a bowl filled with ice placed at the edge of the Jacuzzi. The Joker leans over and switches your book since it’s upside down.

You huff at the unwanted help and stare at the pictures expecting he’ll look for his shaver and disappear.

You’re not that fortunate today.

“Imagine my surprise when I drove the main alley and detected a sign that says The Joker Street,” he brings up the topic.

Franco Rossi was super-efficient …sadly you ordered the item before J ran his mouth at the hacker’s place, otherwise you wouldn’t care he wants a street with his name.

“You said no… no Joker Street,” you stammer. “Now you have one,” the bitter tone makes him roll his eyes: Y/N’s brain got what it could from his monologue, he should have known better than to make it complicated.

“Excellent…” The King starts rubbing your tummy, “… precisely what I was aiming for. I’m washing the baby, not you!” he underlines when you move farther from him.

You scrunch your face displeased but let him do it because it’s for the baby.

“I know what you’re doing,” Y/N gives him a cold gaze. “U-using the baby… I’m not stupid!”

Busted, The Joker thinks. The schemer in him won’t accept defeat though.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Yes you did!”

“You said it first!!!” he reckons, antagonized. “Therefore two stupid people put together gotta make up for a smart one!!’

“I… I don’t wanna make out…” you frown at his suggestion.

The Joker sighs, deciding not to correct the trajectory of your judgement; it sure sounds like an opportunity.

“Why not?”

“I’m tired and…and I h-hate you,” your heavy eyelids close.

“Both viable reasons, even if I have to admit you striking Seraphim like that got me quite worked up. He’s no small fry! I had to wait for one hour for him to recover; you got a mean punch, woman! The more I reflect on it, the hornier I get. Which reminds me, Pumpkin: guess what?... … … I’m hormonal too.”

No answer, Pumpkin’s out.

“Of course nobody gives a damn if I’m hormonal!” he complaints while grabbing you from the bathtub. You cling to him for a few moments prior to drifting back into your dreams.

“Thanks for getting me all wet,” J snarls at the cruel reality of having his favorite Prada suit ruined.

“You…you’re welcome…” his Queen replies in her sleep, somehow her mind clutching to reality amidst pure relaxation.

This is what two hormonal individuals are reduced to: one’s dozing off, the other is suffering in silence, although being the proud owner of the tiniest road in Gotham compensates for the mishap.

It’s a two way street.

Also read: Masterlist

You can also follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

#the joker x reader #the joker imagine #the joker fanfiction #the joker jared leto #the joker suicide squad #the joker #joker #joker x reader #joker leto #joker imagine #joker suicide squad #joker jared leto #mister j #mr. j #dc #dcu

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creepyalienghost · 4 years ago

Text

From D-class to researcher.

Sammy laid on top of his bed they gave him, hugging the pillow to his chest. He was in pain, scared and alone. It’s been almost three months and almost died four times by these test they gave him, the latest had that beats chopped at his leg. Luckily the pill they gave him healed him. This foundation was dark. He hates the researchers here. These people were evil for testing on humans like this. Not everyone on d class is a criminal. Some of them were innocent and d class were children they got at orphanages.

He wonders where the others are. Norman, Susie, jack and the rest. We’re they also d class? Used for testing or cleaning. We’re they even alive still? What horrors have they seen? What hell have they been though? He tries not to think about them but it was hard when you were locked in a small cell for most of your day. Only being let out for two hours for “fun” or leaving to be tested on.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the boots of the guards thumping down the hallway as they come towards this way. Sammy wonders if they will pass or if they will l stop in front of his cell. He listened for a moment until they stopped. It was his cell.

Sammy sat up in the bed as the cell door mechanically opened and the main guard stepping inside. “D-68923, get up and come with us.” He ordered.

Sammy followed there instructions, following the main one. The other two followed behind to make sure he wouldn’t do anything stupid. Sammy wondered what horrible test they’d put him though this time but those questions stopped when they turned the opposite way of the scps. They were taking him someplace else. Now the questions were why? And what for? We’re they going to kill him? He hopped not. He had been obeying every order the guards gave him! It wasn’t his fault he kept almost dying. It was the sick researchers!

The three guards lead the D class subject down hallway after hallway and though a check point to The entrance zone. This zone was more cheerful then the one D-class stay at. The walls were yellow and white and the floors were clearer and shiny. The vibe was more peaceful here. But that didn’t stop Sammy from fearing what’s about to happen.

They lead him down another hallway and finally a small room with a plain table and two chairs on ether side. “Sit there” the guard ordered as he pointed to one. Sammy walked over and sat there as the Guard left the small room and closing the door, locking it.

It wasn’t long before a female agent walked in. “Hello. Mr. Lawrence.” She greeted as she sat her briefcase on the table and sat down in the empty seat.

Sammy’s ears perked at his name. It has been a long time since somebody called him by his name and not a number. It felt nice to feel like a human again. “Hello ma’am.” He spoke.

“I bet your wondering what your doing here, right?” She ask as she flipped open her briefcase then turned her attention on him.

Sammy nodded in response. “Yes ma’am. I am.” He replied then waited to explain the situation.

The agent pulled out a file from her briefcase. “We lost a lot of staff members at one of our sites do to...well. Let’s just say miss fortunes over the last few days.” She explains as Sammy listened closely. “We’re low on researchers. And judging by your file-“she flipped it open. “you were apart of a cult that was into studying these kinds of...things.” She looked up at Sammy.

His mouth was dropped open do to shook. He had long since changed his mind on working here. He wanted to leave this hell of a place. “And if I say no?”

The agent gave him a warning glance. “Then you stay as D class for the remainder of the year. and be eliminated after, Mr. Lawrence.” She replied. “You are not allowed in the real world anymore. None of you are. You are dead to them and we can not let the people know about this place.” She informed. “Besides. You are a criminal. So pick your poison. Stay here and be a lab rat. Or get promoted to researcher.” She leans back and crosses her arms, waiting for him to chose.

Sammy sighs, looking down then nodded. “Fine. I’ll choose researcher”

“Vary wise, Mr. Lawrence” she replied, pulling out a few test packets. “First we need to test your knowledge on these subjects.” She explained. “To see where you are.”

It was a long process and seven different packets from Algebra to Physics and even some history and English thrown in to them. Over all Sammy did vary well. She gave him a few documents for him to sign them she lead him out of the room and to the roof of this foundation, where a helicopter was waiting for them. The two got in and headed off to a different foundation.

Sammy was allowed to watch the Beautiful scenery below which he found magnificent. He come to realize he’d haven’t seen the outside in months and was very grateful. The water, the sun and the Mountain were all gorgeous now.

——-

Once their helicopter landed at the new location, Sammy was escorted out after the agent by a new group of guards. One of them seems to be watching them closely as he followed the agent inside. Sammy figures they’d must of got the information about his pass crimes.

When they got inside the process began. They took his photo after letting him clean up for his level 2 ID. He wouldn’t be a full researcher for a while. They told him he’d have to learn things around here first as a Junior researcher. They also set up his computer access and gave him a new home in the living quarters.

When he got to his living quarter he was amazed at how huge it was. It was nothing like he cell when he was D class. This came with a kitchen, living room and office downstairs and a room, office and a bathroom upstairs. They were trying to get him on their side. “If you need or want anything from the outside world you’d have to ask for it. Other wise you can order it here.” The agent told him. “I’ll let you get settled in, Mr. Lawrence. Your mentor will meet with you tonight.” With that she left him

——

Later that night, Sammy was led down to the researchers section of the foundation, were he meet his mentor and other researchers. “Hello. I’m Dr. Cliff. Your mentor.” The older man held out his hand for him to shake. But Sammy could tell that he and the others didn’t like him. He noticed others stare with judgement in their eyes. He could hear whispers about him. This was going to be hell.

But he cooperated and shook the man’s hand. “Hello. I’m Sammy Lawrence, sir.” He replied.

His Mentor nodded and pointed at a clipped bored on a desk nearby. “Gather your things and follow me. we have a few task tonight.”

Sammy picked up his clip bored and followed his mentor down to Heavy containment. He read the information on the first sheet on the clip bored. There was a list of scps to test and interview. He was a bit afraid to study these entities but he remembered he wasn’t a d- boy anymore. He was on the other side of the glass. He was the one to bring d-boys to get tested on. It made him feel better but also guilty.

The first few ones went by quickly. Sammy watched as the D- class that was chosen got badly injured or died in the process. He felt bad for each of them but he couldn’t help them. He tried to forced his mind and on the thought that they were really bad people and deserved thIs.

By around 9 o’clock they were on their last task of the day. An interview with an scp by the number of 049. Sammy followed Dr. Cliff down the hall to an elevator with a sign of its number and an Arrow pointing down. Dr. Cliff pushed the button for the elevator at the same time as his pager went off. He grabbed it and read it. “Shit...” he said then he turned to Sammy. “Sammy. I have an emergency to take care of. I need you to interview him alone.” He instructed. “Make sure this is recording and here’s a questions to ask him.” He handed Sammy an Recording device and a sheet of paper with the questions on it. “Oh and do not let him touch you.” He warned before running off, leaving Sammy alone.

Sammy wondered what he meant by -do not let him touch you.- as he sighed and stepped into the elevator, pushing the button down. It only took a minute for it lower down and the doors opening down to a darker hallway. Another armed guard was position next to the Elevator as he stepped out. The guard looked down at him sharply and asked for his ID. Sammy showed it to him before being head down the hall and into the cell of 049. Sammy was shocked by how he looked. It reminded him of the grim reaper coming to Collect souls. The ..being looked to be examining of a dead woman’s insides, even the brain was showing.

“Ah. I wasn’t aware we had a new face here.” The being spoke as he wiped his hands with a cloth and sat down at the table. Sammy found his voice to be so calming and charming to hear. How can that be with the way he looked.

Sammy clears his throat to try to match his town. “Y-Yes. I-I am new...” he replied. “I’m Mr. Lawrence.” He held out his hand before remembering he shouldn’t let him touch him, then he pulled his hand back. “Let’s get started..”

Sammy sat the Recording Devicet on the table, between them and pushed the Recording button then he read off the sheet. “This is interview Number....”he stopped and wondered if he should go with interview amount by him or Dr. cliff. He quickly chose him “number one with me, Sammy Lawrence. Junior researcher. Dr. Cliff had an emergency meeting so he asked me to interview the subject SCP -049”

Sammy looked at the entity across from him then back at the piece of paper for the first question. “It says you study something called the pestilence. What is it exactly?”

The entity tilted his head in a curious why. “you don’t know? The pestilence is the scourge! A nasty disease that I strive to cure. But as of yet. I haven’t Been successful.”

Sammy didn’t understand what he meant by curing and what the pestilence was. He didn’t even understand what 049 is. “A-Alright...” he stuttered. “On the the next question.” He again looked at the sheep of paper to read the next question but 049 spoke first.

“Are you nervous, Mr. Lawrence.” He asked in his calm and charming voice. “You seem nervous.”

Sammy looked up at him and shook his had no. “I’m not nervous. I’m just...” he shrugged. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

The doctor leaned in a bit closer. “You can tell me, Mr. Lawrence. I am a doctor after all. Helping is what I do.”

Sammy thought about it then shook his head. “It’s nothing. Let’s continue the interview.” He stated. The doctor didn’t assist any farther and cooperated with Sammy as he interviewed him.

———

Over the months of working at the foundation he’d come to hate it here more and more. He’s coworkers would spit in his food and sabotage his work for being a d class before. He found out they feed kids to an scp here and was sicken by it. What’s worst was that he found out Norman works here with him as a guard but he doesn’t believe him that they would do this horrible stuff to people. He believes the foundation is good. It hurts him but he doesn’t really talk to Norman much from it.

He got to interview with 049 twice a week though. Sometimes alone, sometimes with Dr. Cliff. He learned 049s background and what the pestilence was as well as what 049 does with the body’s they give him. He also learned about his friendship with 035. An scp he hadn’t test on or herd about. Just as 049 learned how much Sammy hated the foundation and missed his friends. He and Sammy would talk for a few minutes each time off Record about what they were capable off and how evil this place was. It even slipped out once that they were forcing Sammy to be here and how cruel they were to him. 049 pitied him and Even came to care for the man.

He didn’t ask Sammy until the official interview was over and Sammy had stop the recording. “Do you desire to be free, Mr. Lawrence.” He ask before Sammy lefted

Sammy stopped what he was doing and gave him a long look before nodding. “I wish I could be free. See the outside again.” He sighed.

The doctor approached closely to him for the first time. “You can.” He stated before adding. “We both can. But first you need to trust me like I need to trust you.” He said. “Do you trust me Mr. Lawrence?”

Sammy slowly nodded after a minute. “I trust you.” He admits

“Good” the doctor replied before telling him

The plan he’d come up with. Sammy listened to the whole thing and agreed to it. They both choose to acted it out tomorrow night. But he had to ack 079 for a favor tonight.

——

The first step he had to do was get his hands on the highest level card. A level five. The doctor told him it would let him in anywhere in the whole foundation building. He knew that the department overseer was the only person to have that level card here. He had to still it before tonight for there plan to work.

It wasn’t that hard to get. Sammy knew where he had it was hiding in the the office. He quickly went in without no

one seeing him, when the overseer was on break and picked the lock on his desk. He grabbed the red level five card from its place and locking back the the drawer then leaving unseen. Step one was done. Step two was next.

Step two was easier since he doesn’t eat with the rest of them. He acted like he was going to eat at his desk again like always but instead he went below to the war head. No one was their protecting it. No searchers and no MTFs. He went over to the edge to look at the warhead and was amazed by how huge and deadly this was. Then he went to the switch and flipped it off before going to his desk for lunch. No he waits for step three. The favor.

As he waited for the night to approach, he did his Normal rounds. Helping Dr. cliff Test D- class on scps like 008 or 096 and interviewing other scps like 030 or D class and doing The reports. He knew it was time when the alarms went off and a voice came on the speaker. “We’re experiencing multiple Euclid and ketter breaches! Get to a shelter immediately!”

Sammy grabbed the level five card and ran out of the office he was In. It was a mad house. Researchers running everywhere, screaming. D class cells began opening and scp were running ramped. MTFs were shooting at the scps and d class or running for their lives from scps. Sammy saw scp 096 chasing someone down and looked around away fast. He had to go quickly for there plan to work.

He ran down the hall after hall to the elevators leading down to 049 cell and got in, pushing the down button. He came face to face with 049 who waiting right in front of the elevator doors when they opened. Sammy could see the fate of the MTFs behind them. Their skin rotting off and their eyes glazed. The site of the “cured” still made him uneasy. “We should go before we miss our chance Mr. Lawrence” he reminded hi

Sammy nodded, getting back on track with the plan. “Right... Let’s go.” He nodded stepping aside for 049 to step it and pushed the button up once he’s in. Sammy waited anxiously as the elevator road up towards the commotion going on.

The elevator reaches the floor and opens its doors but this time Sammy was faced with the end of a gun. His eyes widen in fear, looking straight at the end, ready for the blast. But it never came. Instead the MTF holding the gun lowered it and took off their helmet, revealing their face.

“Sammy...” Norman said in surprised. Them in confusion once he saw 049 next to him. “What’s going on?...” he ask looking between Sammy and 049. “Sam. Is he making you do something?”

Sammy shakes his head. “No. It’s nothing like that norn-“

Norman raised an eyebrow in question. “So what’s going on then?..” He asked Sammy. Sammy didn’t know how to explain it to him. He knew Norman liked it here and didn’t believe him. So he kept his mouth shut and looked at the floor. “Your escaping aren’t you?” Norman ask. “With this monster!”

“Norman his not a monster-“ Sammy tried to explain to him but Norman wouldn’t listen to him.

Instead Norman pointed the gun back at Sammy’s face and placed his finger on the trigger. “If you wanna join the monsters then fine! Prepare to be treated like one!” Norman warned. But he saw the fear in those blue eyes. The same fear their old boss caused him. What was he doing? Why was he doing this to the one he swore to protect first? It was Sammy before he took an oath for the foundation.

Sammy watched his face hard in thought. Was he going to kill him? Was he really thinking about that? Sammy watched in fear Until a man in a mask leaking black liquid from its mouth and eyes came up behind Norman and knocked him out. “Your friend?” Sammy ask 049.

“Ah. Yes, indeed!” 049 replied with a nod.

Sammy knelt down to Norman as the two scp were greeting each other in this mess he created and checked Norman. Thank the gods he was still alive and breathing, just out cold. “We should go now. More MTFs are coming” the guy with the mask informed them both. Sammy nodded then kisses Norman on the cheek, taking his gun and leaving with them.

All three of them were successful in their escape, with little interference from other scps and MTF. But it wasn’t long before the foundation tracked them again after reports of zombies, missing people and a blonde short man being seen near houses of those missing people.

They were found in a month later living in an abandoned apartment. When the foundation arrived there they all Surrendered easily. The foundation had decided to split the two scp from each other. 049 went back to site 19 but 035 went to an undisclosed location. Sammy was spit from 049 as well. However they sent Sammy to a location to be brainwashed for there use. However the ride never made it to that location. When the foundation went to investigate they found everyone dead. But no Sammy.

#sammy lawrence #scp 049 #scp foundation #bendy and the ink machine

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thembo-for-anime · 4 years ago

Text

Unwritten Rules

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1.2K

TW: mentions of su!c!de, angst, but then some fluff

Summary: Reader Insert, You find out about what Bakugo suggested to Midoriya involving a swan dive and a building. This makes you want to take matters into your own hands regarding his punishment but Izuku tries to stop you.

When being friends with someone, there are some things that are a given. Unwritten rules you should follow, that if you don’t you’re a shitty friend. Like always having their back. Always. Even if that means putting yourself in an uncomfortable situation.

So when Izuku told you what Katsuki fucking Bakugo suggested to him in middle school regarding a swan dive and a building, you were ready to rip his disgusting fucking head off.

Who cares if you had started to like him a little bit. Any feelings you had were eaten away by the acid threatening to rise in your throat.

God who could just say that to a person? Not to mention a person as sweet and genuine as Izuku. Just thinking about it makes you see red as you continue your warpath to Bakugo’s room.

“Pl-Please don’t, you don’t understand! It was just a stupid comment when we were kids-” Midoriya tries to explain but stops himself as you spin around on your heels.

“Just a stupid comment? Izuku, he told you to kill yourself. That is the furthest thing from okay,” you say watching his fear stricken face. His eyes were wide and fleeting, presumably looking for Bakugo as if he would jump out at any moment. Your gaze softens a bit watching his expression that you knew all too well from your time before UA. “Please tell me you know that’s not okay,” you question, trying to catch his shifting gaze.

“I mean, it’s not. I know it’s not but we were kids an-and,” he trails off, not able to grasp a good excuse out of the air.

You place your hands on his shaking shoulders finally getting him to look at you. “Whether you were kids or not doesn’t excuse what he did. Not to mention, to my knowledge, he’s never tried to apologize to you has he?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Midoriya hangs his head before shaking it from side to side. Though dejected he still had a tense hold on his shoulders that crawled down his back and shook him. Looking from him to the first level dorms and back at him you decide that Bakugo can wait for now. Pulling him into a hug you feel as his shaky arms slowly begin to snake around you and hug you back.

You give him a squeeze and realize one of two things. The first was that his shirt was surprisingly wet and the second was that the wetness was from your own tears.

Not wanting to be caught crying in the middle of the dorm hallway, you open the door to your room and waddle inside with the shaky boy still in your arms.

As soon as the door shuts he lets out a small sob and then another a little louder. Not long after he lets them out freely as you two slowly slide onto your carpeted floor. It greeted you both with it’s plush hold, easing the pressure on limbs that were awkwardly tangled but too stubborn to readjust. Your own tears sting your eyes causing you to shut them tightly as you cling onto him, like he might disappear into thin air.

“You are so- god you are so important Izuku, I ho-hope you know that. To me, to Iida, to Uraraka, to Tsu, hell even to Shinso.” His hands grip you tighter but you continue. “We love you so much. I- I wouldn’t even know what I’d do without you. You push us to be better than we could ever hope to be and I just- I love you so much. You’re so important and I’m really fucking glad you’re here,” you get out in-between hiccups and tears.

He leans back and looks up at you with a watery smile. One that fills you with ease. One that says he wasn’t thinking of going anywhere soon.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” he says as you take your sleeve to wipe away some tears from his cheeks. He tries to protest, saying that he doesn’t want to ruin your sleeves.

“Izuku I think I did a worse number on your shirt,” you say before he looks at his shoulder and sees the darkened spot. “They really gave the class crybabies trauma and said have fun figuring that shit out didn’t they?” you joke, earning a small laugh from Izuku.

“They really did,” he affirms as you get up and reach out a hand for him. He takes it with a smile as you lift him up to you. “About Kacchan,” he begins before wringing the hem of his shirt. “Please don’t do anything about it. I’ll deal with it when I’m ready.” Looking back up at you he lets out an airy laugh. “And based on the size of the stain on your shirt, I don’t think I am right now.”

You sigh heavily, the weight of the evening loosening it’s grasp on your chest, before nodding your head in response. “Okay I won’t, I promise. But I can’t promise I’ll be nice to him anymore,” you huff before grabbing his head in your hands and giving him a kiss on the forehead. This causes a bright crimson blush to spread across his freckled cheeks.

He tries to sputter a ‘thank you’ out causing you to laugh. Classic shy Izuku, everyone loves him for it.

An idea pops in your mind causing you to stop everything you’re doing to start grabbing blankets and pillows and putting them on your floor. “Hey Izuku go get your pajamas and some snacks but be sure to be back in ten minutes,” you say, sending out a text to Dekrew (Deku Crew and yes you were all proud of the name).

“Uh, why? Is this an emotional intermission?” he asks, tilting his head with an equally confused and amused expression.

“Not exactly, I just signaled our friends for an emergency movie marathon,” you say grinning from ear to ear. At this his eyes start welling up with tears again. Hopefully happy ones this time.

“You didn’t have to,” he says as he starts getting choked up.

“I know but I wanted to and I remember how you talked about how being around friends helped ground you. We all wanted to help as much as we can,” you say before he pulls you into an unexpected hug. It was unexpected because usually he was too nervous to be the one to initiate platonic affection. Being caught off guard however didn’t stop you from returning with as much care as you could. You could feel your own tears start to prick the corner of your eyes. “Izuku we just stopped sobbing, you're gonna make me start again,” you say with your voice full of water.

He just laughs holding on just for a moment longer before detaching and looking at you. “Thank you, I really really appreciate having you in my life,” he says.

The tears you futily tried to keep at bay spill against your will. “Izuku what did I just say!” you respond with a wet smile showing you feel no real anger.

“I know, I know I’m going,” he says reaching the door.

“Ten minutes,” you remind him, “Not a minute later.”

He smiles, a genuine Grade A Izuku Midoriya patented smile before repeating, “Ten minutes.”

The door closes behind him and you try to wipe away all the evidence that you had spent the last what? Fifteen, thirty minutes crying? But you couldn’t be bothered to try and look presentable aside from throwing on a jacket to hide the tear stains. You honestly didn’t care if your red rimmed eyes and knotted hair made you look like the most busted musty, dusty, crusty troll under the goddamn bridge because all that matters was that Izuku knows he’s loved.

When being friends with someone, there are some things that are a given. Unwritten rules you should follow, that if you don’t you’re a shitty friend. Like being there for your friend and reminding them that they’re always loved. Always.

Author’s Note: dammmn I am RUSTY! but this is something that I’ve wanted to write ever since I saw the anime because that part struck a chord with me. I know Bakugo is growing and I want to clarify I don’t hate him and I do believe that you can grow from things like that. however Bakugo hasn’t apologized and I’m sure he won’t ever apologize (at least where he is rn) so Midoriya doesn’t have to forgive him. ESPECIALLY for something he was never given an apology for.

also do I simp for fanon Bakugo? absolutely. would I also fist fight canon Bakugo given the chance? without a doubt.

(also also loosely inspired by @/dinomight’s “if you’re standing (if you’re bleeding) fic on AO3)

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #izuku #izuku midoriya #midoriya #mha #bnha #mha izuku #bnha izuku #deku #deku x y/n #dekusquad #bnha deku #deku x reader #bnha midoriya #midoriya x reader #izuku midoria x reader

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dastardlydandelion · 4 years ago

Text

casus belli

ao3 link

obligatory irl inspo link

content warnings: referenced violence, implied abuse

Max strokes her mother’s hair as softly as she can, gingerly guiding her fingertips around the goose egg where Neil whacked her with the wrench, gash no less grisly to Max’s eyes even now sutured up. It’s been hours but Max still feels rattled even though she won’t cry, can’t cry because she needs to be strong and calm for Mom. Being this close to Mom helps marginally at least. Close enough to touch and feel and watch her breathe, know she is alive even though she’d been so terribly still on the floor, hadn’t let out any sound nor even twitched after the gun went off and Neil collapsed atop her.

Max’s eyes dart toward sudden movement in her peripheral. She expects a nurse or maybe another cop but it’s Billy in the doorway, denim jacket buttoned, hands stuffed in the pockets of his blue jeans. He gives a nod, gaze flickering to her mother in the hospital bed. Max exhales softly as she draws her hand from Mom’s head and trots across the eggshell tile. She tried to call earlier but he didn’t answer. She deduces the authorities must’ve contacted him about Neil.

Max isn’t normally the hugging type but today has been an exceptionally scary day and in all truth, part of her wasn’t sure she’d ever see Billy again at all. Leaving Neil meant leaving so many things behind, her school, her friends, Hawkins. Billy too. She throws her arms around his middle and squeezes tight, tight, tight as a tourniquet.

Billy grunts, caught off guard, but then he breathes out and winds an arm around her.

“Hey, shitbird…”

Max thinks his voice sounds weird. She swallows and lets go, tugging at the drawstrings of her hoodie as she takes a step back.

“Hey,” she returns and it is the least of things there are to say. “The cops tell you everything?”

“I don’t know about everything.” Billy looks pale as his eyes dart between Max and her mother. “How’s Susan?”

“In and out. She might be in and out for awhile. Neil busted her head open and she’s still all doped up…I don’t think she remembers coming in or getting x-rays, or anything.”

Max uncertainly wiggles her hand as she glances back over her shoulder. Mom is dozing again, looks so fragile in the bed, legs swaddled so thick in their splints, toes just barely peeking out, chest tube as big around as a highlighter emerging from the slit in her gown and going into the drainage unit on the floor.

“My dad really did a number on her…”

“No shit, Billy, he was trying to kill her. He was yelling about how he wouldn’t let her run away again. ‘No more running!’ That’s what he was yelling that when I pulled the trigger.” Max rubs her forearms, swears in her soul she can still feel the recoil riddle thorough her bones.

She only fired once and Neil folded like a fancy dinner napkin right on top of Mom. Then Max couldn’t tell whose blood was whose.

“I’m sorry,” Billy grates out, grave and low.

“She’ll be fine. I’ll take good care of her,” Max declares, soft but determined. “I have practice and Mom’s bound to be a way easier patient than you were, anyway.”

She’d had to help Mom out with Billy after the Mind Flayer. Neil was weirdly gentle with Billy for a little bit in the beginning, when it looked like he might die. But when he started getting stronger and turned around for the better, Neil could barely be bothered to lift a finger. Didn’t contribute much to her brother’s recovery beyond complaining about medical bills and making a bunch of negotiations over the phone with the insurance company.

“No, Max, I’m apologizing because this is my fault,” Billy bows his head, eyes glued to the floor as his shoulders tense. “It’s my fault he found you, I’m sorry.”

A cold feeling creeps beneath her skin.

“What?”

“It was stupid, I was stupid,” he says, voice seeping shame. “I got you a new skateboard since I broke your other one. Decided I’d mail it to you, so I got it packaged up and all that, hid it under my bed. My dad trashed my room looking for some shit he thought I stole and he found that instead. With the address.”

Max clenches her teeth. In the recesses of her mind, she realizes it was an accident. Of course it was an accident. But. The way Mom screamed. Gunpowder scorching Max’s nostrils. Whose blood is whose. Mom not moving. Safety wasn’t safety even in Springwood, Ohio with different names and plate numbers, wasn’t safe in a million years because of the way Mom screamed and Max, who hadn’t been going by Max in public in Ohio, knew precisely who and what was ripping their new life to pieces in the way Mom screamed.

It was an accident but Max can still feel the recoil, Max is the recoil and Mom was one missed shot away from a coffin. Neil swung the wrench and Mom’s lung popped like a happy birthday balloon before Max’s hands could go steady enough to pop a cap. Mom’s courage has been rewarded with broken bones and blood and confusion, but well. It was an accident.

“I tried to stop him, Max.”

“Go away.”

“I tried to stop him, I swear—“

“Go away!” Max snaps, louder. “Get away from me! Get away from my mom!”

“Who’s fighting?” her mother groggily asks as she stirs behind her.

Billy relents under Max’s dark glare, shuffling a few steps back and turning away.

“Max?”

“I’m here, Mom.” Max retreats back to her mother’s bedside and smiles gently in assurance, placing a chary hand on her forearm.

“Was that Billy?” Mom blinks up at her, nose twitching as she gives a little sniff. “You smell like Billy.”

“Uh, yeah. Billy’s here. Neil’s here too but he can’t hurt us. Do you remember that?”

“Mhm.” Mom gives the slightest of nods and covers Max’s hand with her own. “Max?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you bring Billy back? I wanna fight with him too.”

“What?” Max gasps, bemused.

“I have a bone to pick with that boy,” Mom says, muzzy eyes half-lidded as she vaguely jabs a finger in the air. “He gave my sixteen year old a loaded gun and didn’t even tell me.”

“Uh, okay, I fully understand why that would bother you. And I also didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to freak you out—“

“You should’ve told me too,” her mother declares, almost petulant as her lips purse sternly.

“—but you realize I saved us both because I shot Neil, right?”

“It’s the principle of the matter, Maxine,” Mom insists. “Neither of you asked me for permission, neither of you said a word. Billy got a loaded gun from the safe and gave it to you, so I’m upset…and I need to yell at him. Bring him back.”

Max splutters, dumbfounded. Her mother is definitely as high as a kite. Her voice is so weak Max doesn’t know how she expects to yell at all. But she can’t refuse her request when she’s somehow striking that tone of maternal authority Max suddenly feels compelled to obey, even as hurt and dopey as she is.

“Okay, Mom. I’ll go find him.”

“Thank you.”

Max tenderly brushes a kiss over her mother’s temple. When she gets to the doorway she hesitates for a few heartbeats, gaze lingering on Mom. She isn’t particularly keen on letting Mom out of her sight right now. Her stomach flip-flops the way it did a few hours ago, when they took her down for x-rays without Max in attendance.

She reminds herself it’s fine. The only person who wanted to hurt Mom is Neil. Neil is paralyzed from the waist down and handcuffed to his own hospital bed. He’s not lurking around the corner or hiding in the shadows. He's not belly-crawling the corridors like some vengeful serpent.

Neil’s room is eventually where Max locates Billy. The door is shut. The blinds are drawn. Max cannot see inside but it is Neil’s room nonetheless, an officer standing guard and munching on a sprinkled, pink frosted doughnut with such gusto it’s like he’s intentionally trying to be a cliché. Billy is a few lengths away, gnawing at his fingernails, one shoulder leaned against the wall.

“Found you,” Max greets.

Billy bites the corner of his thumbnail and stiffly lowers his hand to his side. “Found me? You’re the one who told me to fuck off.”

“Yeah, well…” Max crosses her arms as she leans against next to him, idly kicking her heel against the wall. “If you knew he was coming, why didn’t you call the cops?”

“I tried to stop him, Max. We got into it. He choked me out and locked me in the hall closet.”

“Holy shit. You got out?”

“With some splinters in my knuckles,” Billy huffs bitterly. “Yeah, wish I would’ve thought to feel up on the top shelf sooner. My old Little League bat was up there. That helped.”

“Damn…look, I’m sorry i jumped down your throat earlier, okay?” Max uncrosses her arms and glances down to Billy’s hand at his side, exhales through her nose as she notes the bloodied knuckles. “It’s been a fucking awful day and I’m trying to be brave and calm for Mom, but…”

“Don’t. I deserve it. It’s my fault.”

“You’re not the one who broke into our house with a goddamn wrench like some horror movie villain.”

Billy just shakes his head.

“Anyway, we’d better get a move on. Because my mom wants to see you but I don’t know how long she’s going to be awake.”

Billy blinks rapidly, squinting his eyes. “She wants to see me?”

“Yeah, come on.” Max grabs him by the arm and starts to pull, only to let go when his face crumples into discomfort. “Oh. Hey, how bad, um…are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just kinda stiff, long drive didn’t help.”

Max nods and leads him back to Mom’s room without any more grabbing. Billy plods beside her and now that she’s paying attention, she realizes how purposeful his steps are. He doesn’t do any of those restless little movements typical of him, no finger drumming or collar adjusting. He’s moving no more or less than he has to. Definitely sore.

Max pulls up the chair for him when they get to Mom’s room, right beside her bed so neither have to strain to reach for the other.

“There you are,” her mother announces, twirling her index finger at Billy.

“Here I am,” Billy agrees, flashes a sad smile as he slowly lowers into the seat. “Hey, Susan. How you feeling?”

“Upset,” she says decisively, narrowing her eyes as Max pointedly mouths ‘painkillers’ to Billy. “You and I need to have a talk, mister. What you did was very irresponsible and I am sorry to say I’m disappointed in you. I--"

"I'm sorry," Billy blurts, interrupting as he abruptly bows so low, like he would to dodge whenever Neil would throw shit at him. "I'm sorry, Susan. I'm so, so sorry."

Mom blinks rapidly, confused as Billy starts blubbering. His denim clad shoulders tremble as sobs quibble out of him one after the next. He keeps apologizing between them, grief stricken and fraught with guilt. She hasn't seen him cry like this since the sauna test.

"Oh my...I'm upset, yes, b-but not that upset, Billy..." Anxiety tweaks her mother's features, her fingers warily fluttering over the guardrail that separates them.

Max lays a hand on his back and leans in.

"Listen," she murmurs, gentle but firm. "If you need a minute, you need a minute but don't scare my mom."

"I'm sorry," Billy repeats, this time to Max as he visibly struggles to pull it together. "But it's my fault."

"Oh, it's not all your fault," Mom insists. "Maxine had ample opportunity to come to me about Neil's...Astral Tyrannosaur?"

"Astra Terminator," Max corrects.

"Mm, that then." Mom's lashes flutter sleepily.

"The gun," Billy echoes. "We're talking about the gun?"

"It really wasn't right to keep it from me," her mother says, adamant and perhaps a little sulky. "But I suppose I came on a little too strong. Max, could you pass me those tissues?"

"Sure." Max grabs the paperboard box on the beside table and passes it to her.

Mom pulls a few from the box and reaches up, dabbing at Billy's blotchy face. He doesn't say anything. He goes quiet, snuffling softly only a bit.

"There, there," Mom soothes. "We're all here. That's what matters most."

Max shifts her weight from foot to foot and takes the tissue box back.

"I'm okay," Mom says, sudden and hasty like she's not entirely confident. "You shouldn't worry so much...either of you."

"No one is worried, Mom," Max promises. She winds around to the opposite side of the bed and pulls up her own chair, warmly pressing her lips to her mother's cheek. "We know you're okay. Just a little banged up."

And that's an understatement, but at the very least, Mom will get better. And Neil won't. They're free.

Her mother leans in and briefly nuzzles Max's cheek in return until her face is nestled into the pillows again. Having said her piece and with Billy calmed down, she seems relaxed again. She curls toward Max as much as her upper body will allow and with a little more hair stroking, nods off again.

Billy gets up to leave. Max catches his eye and shakes her head. His mouth quirks at the corner and he resumes his seat.

#my fic tag #max mayfield #susan hargrove #billy hargrove #why is nothing self-contained anymore #edited some text and added inspo link

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spinnin-burnice · 4 years ago

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Watch Dogs: Legion x AmRev

@burgoyned Chapter 4 out! Feedback if you wish ^^

Chapter 4: One Of Us, Many Of You!

Burgoyne browsed through the mask shop in the Safehouse, per requested by Bagley. “Welcome to DedSec, Johnny! Now, how about you make yourself a team player and purchase a mask?” There is so much to choose from. Browsing through various choices of masks gave the playwriter a migraine. I don’t know which is good. He finally settled on a mask that is a modern “knight” helmet with a holographic golden “Lōng” teeth glowing. The entire front was a black visor encased by gold lining. “Knight of Avalon” the description read. Fancy, fancy! Burgoyne scanned 200 ETO and the mask was instantly dropped from the machine. He picked it up and placed it over his head. The visor obscured 90% of his vision, but he can still make out the room. This is pretty neat! Hearing the front door opened, Burgoyne removed his helmet and saw both André and Clinton arrive, dropping their gear on the table.

Bagley spoke up. “Welcome back Operators! Are you ready for your next mission?” “NOW HOLD ON!” Burgoyne quickly rushed downstairs to greet his friends. He spun Clinton around and began shaking his hand. “It is an honor to meet you, sir. What brings you here on this fine day?” Clinton gave him a fake glare. “Do you know how to address your superiors?” “I don’t need to. You are NOT my superior and I don’t HAVE to address you as anything,” smirked Burgoyne. A smirk also crept across Clinton’s face. “Pleasure seeing you here, Burgoyne.” “Indeed. Such a friendly reunion that I forgot to add you don’t have permission to be accessing DedSec technology until you are fully recruited,” the playwriter taunted, showing off his new mask. “I don’t believe in holding an initiation ceremony unless you want a repeat of what happened before,” chided Bagley sarcastically. “Hey, hey, that was once a lifetime thing,” Burgoyne retorted.

“Regardless, André has already informed me that Clinton was able to access all of Clan Kelley’s information regarding the human organ harvesting as well as an auction. Some of them are victims of the bombings. This one piece of information is vital, however, there is more,” Bagley said, pulling up the data. The three men read through Kelley’s documents, each growing more disgusted with the paper detailing everything. “That bitch. Always kissing up to some higher up,” growled André. “Those poor victims. How are we going to find them? We need to rescue them from those bloody bastards!” Clinton added. “Perhaps. I can’t quite pinpoint where Clan Kelley is operating right now, but I do know we need to find more information about those victims starting from one of the bomb sites.”

“How would that give us any information?” André asked curiously. “Perhaps the bombs were set off internally. It’s best if you try recovering a clue first then we can proceed with the next step,” Bagley said, opening up a map of London and marked one of the bomb sites. It was located in the City of London. “You’ll need to sneak in with caution. Albion secured the location to make sure no one gets in.” André pouts his face. “This will be rough.” “Quite certainly. Although there is a way of tackling this,” Bagley said. The Operators looked at him with a confused expression. He continued. “I propose one of you stay behind and monitor the site through the cameras. The rest of you travel to the site and recover the evidence.” “I’ll stay. I know the ins and outs of every part of the location,” André said, sitting down in front of the computer.

Clinton and Burgoyne looked at each other. “I guess that’ll be us. Alrighty, let’s head out,” Clinton said as he headed for the entrance upstairs. “Now hang on a second, have you picked out a mask yet? You can’t be going out somewhere with your face exposed,” Bagley stated matter of factly. The Operator raised his gasmask. “Already have one,” he chirped. “Oh well, fantastic then. Looks better than the others ones I’ve seen.” “HEY!” André and Burgoyne protested together. “Alright, alright. Now time is running short. Do hurry.” Burgoyne and Clinton climbed up the staircase and left the Safehouse. André began accessing connections to the bomb site. “I’ve never imagined it to be this horrendous,” he said, scanning the whole site through different camera angles. “You can’t imagine being this horrendous? I wonder if it is any worse than the plays you write.” “Those ideas are scraped, my dear Bagley,” retorted André. The AI chuckled, remaining silent for the remainder of the mission.

Clinton’s eye widened when the men approached their destination. Half of the stadium was blown to smithereens. A construction fence was set up all around where the incident took place, some heavily constructed by Albion to prevent outsiders from looking in. A memorial to those who lost their lives was placed at the front entrance, covered with flowers and candles. Burgoyne let out a sob. “This is heartbreaking. I feel for the victims of this tragedy.” “You weep for the civilians while Clan Kelley and the others laugh at our misfortune,” Clinton softly replied. As they approached the heavily barricaded walls, a small ctOS drone can be heard buzzing above them. Burgoyne quickly put his helmet on as Clinton strapped his gas mask on. Both men quickly slipped behind a small barricade and watched the small drone look around before entering the site.

“That’s odd. That drone would usually chase outsiders out. I wonder who is controlling that?” Burgoyne wondered. He felt a tug from Clinton who motioned towards a small opening. Nodding, the two men crawled through the hole and found themselves standing in front of a large crater where the explosion took place. Debris covered every part of the broken stadium; chunks of metal, concrete, as well as aluminum, splayed across the ground. The interior of the stadium was exposed, so the men can see Albion guards patrolling the inside of the building. ctOS drones flew everywhere amid large cargo drones occasionally flying in and out to drop off necessary materials. Burgoyne stared in disbelief at the amount of damaged caused. Adjusting his mask, Clinton began quietly prodding his way towards the epicenter. A few guards walked by, but one of them spotted the men. “HEY, YOU! STOP RIGHT THERE!” he yelled, raising his gun. “OH SHIT! RUN” Burgoyne pushed Clinton and the two began the run.

The site became alerted and all Albion guards began pursuing the intruders. Spotting a small opening, Clinton grabbed Burgoyne by the arm and they slipped into the crater. They hid behind a massive concrete building, away from their pursuers. The ctOS drone that they saw earlier slipped into the crack and hovered next to Burgoyne. He tapped the little drone. “You could’ve helped us drive those bastards away, you know.” “I don’t think that’s André. He doesn’t know how to operate a drone yet,” Clinton whispered. “Wait, if this isn’t André then…” Sweat began to break out as Burgoyne nervously checks the drone. Whizzing past the men, the ctOS drone began scanning the nearby area. It shone its light on a small object lying on the floor. A small sigh escaped Burgoyne but with his helmet is made it sound suffocating. Clinton emerged from his spot and approached the object. From the drone’s flight, he can tell it was part of a Spiderbot.

Bagley pinged the earpiece. “That’s it. You’ve recovered the first clue. It looks like a Spiderbot. I’m sending out an AR replicant so we can have a detailed visual of what exactly happened here.” “Great. But just a question, is André piloting this drone? There is a drone that has been following us around and I wonder if it’s André.” André spoke up. “No sir, it’s not me!” Clinton froze. Bagley took over again. “You’ll need to proceed with caution. I’ll track the user of this drone for the time being. For now, take a look at this AR video and tell me what you think.”

As Bagley pinged off, a holographic display began to play. It showed three people walking down the tunnel as one of them carried a suitcase. Hiding within the small vent above Clinton was a Spiderbot. Both Clinton and Burgoyne observed the holographic Spiderbot proceed down the vent, entered a room adjacent to the main tunnel and the AR stopped. Bagley pinged again. “So it appears that one of the people has access to the explosion that attached itself to the Spiderbot. You’ll need to bring the bot back to have more data processed.”

“And this drone?” “I’ve traced it back to a user not far from the site.” “Great. We’ll head out there now. Much appreciated.” Tapping his earpiece, Clinton turned to Burgoyne who was still hiding behind the concrete. “We got what we came for let’s head out.” Picking up the bot, Clinton put it inside his bag then dragged the somewhat frightened playwriter out of hiding. The ctOS drone followed them, buzzing softly in the sky. Making their way back to the entrance, Clinton and Burgoyne ran until they’re out of range of suspecting Albion guards. Removing his gas mask, the hacker looked around. Burgoyne, upon removing his helmet, began combing his brown hair which was sticking up from the static of the helmet. “Damn, that was a close one. I guess we now know what happened?” “Yes. This Spiderbot might still hold some key data on how the bomb was processed. We’ll need to head back now.” The ctOS drone buzzed towards a man approaching them. He was wearing a hacker-esque jacket with black leather pants covered with binary code and grey low-cut boots. The man took off his hood, revealing a surprising face that both Clinton and Burgoyne stopped then burst out laughing.

“Ara-ara, if it isn’t SIR William Howe,” snickered Burgoyne as punched his friend on the arm. “What are you doing here on this fine evening hmm?” questioned Clinton in a mocking manner. Howe rolled his eyes. “Same as you. Trying to find information about what has happened here.” “Ah, I see. Did André recruit you to help or you’re just on your own?” Burgoyne inquired. “André? I’m on my own. The two of you are with DedSec I presume?” Howe said, pointing towards the DedSec fox logo on the men’s jacket. “Yes we are,” Clinton said. Their friend narrowed his eyes a tad bit and Clinton could tell this wasn’t going to be good. “Siding with a terrorist organization? I’d rather leave this country than to join a terrorist organi-“ Clinton cut him off. “How about you follow us and we’ll show you what DedSec is.”

Howe bit his lip before shrugging his shoulders. “Alright.” And followed the men back to the Safehouse.

After arriving at the Earl’s Fortune, Clinton dragged Burgoyne and Howe into the Safehouse where they saw André sitting on the couch looking at the London Tube system while discussing transportation with Bagley. Bagley closed the map and said, “Oh hello there Operators. I see we have a recruit. Is he a playwriter? How sexual is his mind?” “No and my brain is NOT sexual”, Sir William retorted at the AI. Burgoyne and Clinton looked at each other before bursting out laughing. “Oh haha, very funny. VERY funny,” the drone flyer rolled his eyes. André hid his face behind his hands to hide his snicker but was nevertheless happy to have another close friend recruited into DedSec. Recruitment Complete.

#watch dogs legion x amrev

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maximumsnow · 4 years ago

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Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware, HLVRAI - Fandom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Gordon Freeman, Tommy Coolatta, Dr. Coomer (Half-Life), Bubby (Half-Life), Benrey (Half-Life) Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical swearing, Basically an au exploring what if HLVRAI followed Half Life a little more closely, Au where there isn't a betrayal in that one spot, Mainly was wondering what would happen to the others if they hadn't been in on it., Some things change some don't, Oh also this is sort of intended as a not a game au

Summary: Anyone who knows original Half-Life knows that the ambush happens in that spot no matter what. What would have happened if the ambush was as rough for the others?

There was a lot to unpack involving the full realization of just how inhuman Benrey was, but all of it was shoved aside thanks to the current problem.

Which was that Benrey was horribly injured and trapped in a room that was full of a poisonous gas, and, if Coomer’s continued explanation from Wikipedia was anything to go by, it was really, really bad. Gordon did not know the limits of Benrey’s ability to heal, but if he looked this bad while getting poison shoved down his lungs, Gordon wasn’t sure about Benrey’s chances of bouncing back if he stayed for too long.

The worry cranked up to eleven when Benrey suddenly collapsed below the window.

Gordon ran over to the control console and anxiously glanced over all the buttons and levers that clearly had something to do with the environmental room. “Shit, is there like, an emergency release button?!”

Tommy wasn’t far behind. “There should- there has to be one. It’s gotta be OSHA compliant!”

“No offense, Tommy, but given everything else you’ve said followed OSHA, that doesn’t mean shit.”

“I was joking then, Mr. Freeman.”

The conversation was cut off by Bubby yelling, “Look for ‘Emergency Ventilation!’ They might be idiots, but they don’t want to waste that much space and money on a bricked room.” He had taken Tommy’s place at the tank of poison and was fiddling with something over there.

Now that he knew what to look for, Gordon renewed his search, but Tommy was already reaching over him and slammed a fist onto a button. “Woah-”

A sound not unlike an air conditioning unit but much louder kicked in, and there was an immediate change in the enclosed room as the green started to clear out. With the fog fading away and the lack of a large rainbow body covering the floor, it was much easier to see what the room used to be.

The rocky terrain was mostly barren by this point, with the remains of possibly alien plants dotted around pools of water. Corpses of headcrabs were also strewn about, but, shockingly, they were mostly still intact despite Benrey’s presence.

Most notably, though, there was the body of a soldier, and Gordon could not say the same about it. It was in more pieces than Benrey’s still alive body. There was an arm in the corner, a leg by that murky pool, and Gordon had to look away from the torso with organs leaking out of it.

That was enough nightmares for today.

He anxiously waited for the door to unlock, but despite the toxin being flushed out by fresh air and vented elsewhere, there wasn’t a click or a hiss or any other sound he would associate with an unlocking pressurized door.

“Uh, why-”

The overhead sprinklers in the sealed room turned on; the hiss of spraying water was immediately covered up by a sharp scream that could only have come from Benrey.

Gordon slammed against the window as he tried to see what was going on. “Benrey? Dude, you okay?” He knew the question was stupid, but due to where Benrey dropped, it was difficult to see the security guard from the angle the window allowed.

“What are you doing?” The tone would be called whiny if it wasn’t for the gasps of pain that punctuated each word.

The implied accusation stung. “I don’t know! We hit the button to clear out the gas and-”

Tommy interrupted, “Sorry Benrey! That stuff- That gas residue can stick. The room has special surfactant laced water in the sprinklers and… yeah. Just hold on a little longer, okay?”

The explanation was met with silence.

“Benrey?” Gordon couldn’t help but call out.

“Oh. Okay. I can chill a bit.” The voice was strained, but at least he spoke at all.

The tension left his shoulders a little. As long as Benrey was still talking, they knew he was fine. At least it sounded like his voice wasn’t as raspy this time.

Unfortunately, all they could do was wait until the room went through a complete clean cycle if the book Tommy had pulled out was right.

Feeling bad for their stuck companion, Gordon turned the intercom on and panicked when he didn’t have an immediate topic to bring up. Latching onto the first question his mind thought of, he asked, “So uh, was this why you kept disappearing on us earlier?”

More silence.

“Benrey?”

“Hey bro. Appreciate what you’re doing, but please no talking? Pretty please? I’ll be fine. Promise.” Benrey’s voice was barely audible over the fans getting louder.

The pained plea immediately made Gordon feel guilty, so he turned the intercom off and started to pace in front of the window. The sound made it difficult for any of them to hold a conversation, even if Benrey wasn’t involved, so Gordon was stuck alone in his thoughts as he waited for the door to finally open. From a different perspective, it looked like he was all but bouncing between Bubby and Tommy, but he didn’t get to appreciate that mental image due to worrying over the condition Benrey was in.

He was still reeling over the full understanding that Benrey’s one off line about not being human was not an impulsive gag, but a truthful statement. Sure, he probably should have guessed by now given Benrey’s apparent powers, but Gordon still thought that he was more in line with Bubby or Coomer. An… Enhanced human, if anything else.

But nope, Benrey was apparently a shapeshifting monster that had a human form. The scientist in Gordon was intrigued at the apparent alien life form, but the empathetic part of him knew that outright asking shit like that would be rude at best. De-human… Depersonalizing at worst.

Sure Benrey gave him hell, but it wasn’t like Benrey had been outright malicious. Hell, he had even rescued Coomer.

… Actually, he was probably also the thing that slammed into Bubby’s tube to release him.

Damn, Gordon really felt bad for being a dick to Benrey earlier, now.

His thoughts were interrupted as a loud hissing sound brought his attention back to the room, and Tommy all but yanked the door off its hinges before catching himself. “Mr. Freeman, you have to, uh. You’re wearing an HEV suit. You have to be the one to pull him out.”

Nodding, Gordon quickly passed him and entered the now supposedly cleaned environmental room. Benrey was huddled under the observation window, and when he looked up at Gordon, he actually had more than half of a face.

The sight of muscle and bone still made Gordon recoil in horror. “Holy shit, dude. Doesn’t that hurt?”

Benrey half-heartedly gave a one-armed shrug. “I’ll regen soon, don’t worry about it.”

“That doesn’t mean this doesn’t suck ass!” Hell, just looking at him was making him queasy. But the half-drowned puppy look compelled him to at least try to ease the poor guy’s pain. “Come on let’s get you out of here.” He knelt down and tried to figure out where he could potentially touch Benrey without hurting him.

“Need a hand?” Benrey rolled over, and clutched in his remaining hand was a now very muddy arm.

Needless to say, the visual equivalent of a non-sequitur gave Gordon pause as he tried to process just what he was looking at.

“Why the fuck do you have a random arm?”

“Wasn’t his.” He lazily waved the arm like it was a magic wand and pointed the hand end towards the dead soldier.

Gordon could feel his stress headache building. “What do you mean it wasn’t his?”

In lieu of saying anything, Benrey shoved the other end of the arm into Gordon’s face, and the movement startled Gordon into falling on his ass.

He was so glad that he couldn’t feel the mud through the HEV suit.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

“Look, it’s not, uh, natural.”

“I don’t want to look at the bony end-” He stopped and stared at the place he knew there should be blood and bone, but there were bits that looked shiny under the mud. “Metal?”

“Yeah. Not his. He’s kinda made of meat.”

“Is this… Dr. Coomer’s arm?”

“Think so. Tried to get it back for ‘em”

… That’s right, Benrey was the monster that chased the soldiers that had taken Dr. Coomer apart.

Gordon shook his head as he got back on his feet. “You can show him when we get out. Come on...”

Given Benrey’s current state, Gordon finally decided to just try picking him up bridal style. Other than a few grunts of pain as he was shifted around, Benrey kept mostly quiet.

Exiting became a problem since the others had all elected to stand directly in the doorway to peer in like children trying to snoop on their parents. He rolled his eyes, but before he could say anything, Benrey shouted, “LET ME OUT OF THIS BOX!”

The sudden volume actually made Bubby and Tommy scramble out of the way, but it took a not so subtle yank from Bubby to make Coomer move.

With the path clear, Gordon walked in and found a relatively clean spot next to a wall to put Benrey. “Here we go. Sorry, can’t do anything more comfy for ya.”

“It’s fine,” He said before shoving the arm into Gordon’s hands. “I gotta. Gotta nap.”

While the thought of staying too long made him nervous, Gordon couldn’t help but agree with him there. They could afford to take a break for a while. “Alright, I’ll get you up before we leave.”

“Sounds good.” The one eye was already drifting shut, but the steady breathing soothed Gordon’s fear.

Despite still being worried, he could see some of the skin regrowing on Benrey’s face, and, frankly, Gordon didn’t want to get sick. Instead, he turned to the others, nearly bumped into Tommy with how close he had been standing, and asked Coomer, “Hey, your arm-”

“Look, Gordon, you found my left Extendo-arm!”

“-Your arm is dirty. Do we have to do anything special to clean it?”

“Nope! It’s perfectly waterproof even when unattached. You’ve even seen me swim with it.”

“The chemicals in the water should have- should have made it safe to use. Even after exposure to- Even after being exposed to the poison.”

“Okay so just some good old soap and water to get off the dirt should be fine.” With that, he walked over the bloodstains to one of the sinks built into the counters. He tested one of the faucet handles, and sighed in relief when water flowed out of the tap. Grateful that the water was still working, he started trying to wipe off all the mud.

Progress was… Slow, however.

“How the HELL did this get so fucking dirty?”

The clunky gloves of the HEV suit didn’t make it any easier, either. As he scrubbed at a particularly stubborn clump of dirt, he glanced over towards Tommy and Benrey.

Tommy was practically standing over Benrey. Like he was guarding him.

But before he could say something to him, Bubby and Coomer’s movements caught his eye as they wandered towards Gordon’s other side.

Coomer had moved first. Something had caught his attention, and he was walking towards the other sink. Then Bubby’s examination of the poison tank ended, and he joined Coomer in looking over what was left on the counters.

They both stood in front of a strange egg-like thing, and when Gordon looked over his shoulder to do a quick headcount, he had to ask, “Uh, what the fuck is that? Please don’t poke it.”

“Hello, Gordon! I have no idea what this is!” Given his current lack of upper limbs, Coomer had settled on nearly shoving his face into it as he tried to examine it.

Bubby, of course, decided to pick it up, and before Gordon could stop him, the egg appeared to hatch on contact. “Oh. I uh. Didn’t expect that. Does this mean I’m a parent now?”

“What a beautiful child!”

The creature in question was an insectoid creature not much bigger than Bubby’s hand with a large faceted eye. When Bubby brought up his other hand to presumably touch it, a beak snapped shut very close to his finger and nearly caused him to drop it.

“Careful, before it bites your hand off!”

“I’m not that stupid.”

Gordon chose to not rise to the bait and start a fight there. “We can’t take it with us, so figure out what to do with it.”

Turning back to his task at hand, he continued scrubbing mud away, and he couldn’t help but notice that the artificial skin on the arm sometimes made it look far too real.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think- Wait where the fuck did that thing go?

When he looked back over the counter, the creature Bubby had picked up was nowhere to be seen.

He had to ask, "What did you do?"

"Tranq'ed it."

Gordon blinked a few times before yelling, "HOW?"

"With tranqulizers Gordon use your goddamn brain." With that, Bubby turned away and walked over towards the desk.

"Where did you- you know what? I don't need to know." He knew a lost cause of a conversation when he saw one, and he did not want to deal with it anymore.

Once the arm was sufficiently cleaned, he placed it on the counter and nearly ran into Coomer.

“Hello, Gordon!”

“Hey, Coomer. Does this need to dry before we reattach it, or can it just go right on?” He waved towards the drying arm.

Coomer mused for a second before saying, “It is waterproof, but I’ve never tried attaching the arms while they’re still wet. Maybe we should sit it in rice for a few minutes?”

“Uhhhh, we don’t have rice, dude. But we can let it air dry for a while. Don’t think we’re going anywhere soon.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder towards the resting Benrey. In a quieter voice, he asked, “How’re you holding up?”

Matching his volume, Coomer responded, “I’ll be much better when I have my arms again. At least we’re almost halfway there.”

Gordon reached over and patted Coomer’s shoulder before going back to the others. “How about we just. Take a breather for now?”

“Best idea I’ve heard all day,” Bubby said before promptly dropping to the floor. At least that spot was clean...

“… You okay?” “I’m fine!” Despite the claim, Bubby was removing the shoe on his bad foot and was checking on the injury.

Before Gordon could go over and repeat the question, Coomer lightly shoulder checked him as he passed by and gave Gordon a look.

As Gordon understood it, that was an unspoken, “Let me handle it,” gesture, and he backed away from the older scientists as they settled.

Coomer lightly leaned against Bubby on his way down to a sitting position; the ease with which he went through the motions spoke of years of practice.

How often had Coomer been armless before?

Gordon knew the question would be unappreciated at the moment, but it hovered in his mind like an annoying fly. He tried to distract himself by taking a seat not far from Benrey and Tommy, but Benrey was still obviously regrowing shit, which Gordon still didn’t want to focus on.

So that left trying to get Tommy to relax.

“Yo, Tommy, uhh. How long before I can sleep?” He nearly slapped himself on the forehead with how dumb that was. Wow, great conversation starter, Gordon. Bringing more attention to their group's various injuries was a great way to ease Tommy’s worries.

The expected reaction of Tommy managing to tense up even more made Gordon vaguely wonder when the theoretical string would snap. “I don’t- It’s not an exact science. Just. If you-” Tommy cut himself off. “-I know we can’t keep you up forever.” The admission was followed by a drop in Tommy’s shoulders. “Can you stay up until night- until the we have to stop and sleep later?”

The correction was appreciated. Sometimes they didn’t see the sun for a while, and at this point, Gordon didn’t even know what time of day it was. The lobby had ambient sunlight shining through the skylight, but with everything happening, he couldn’t even begin to guess how long ago that was.

Right, he needed to answer that question before Tommy wrung himself into a spiral of anxiety. “Yeah, man, I can do that.”

Tommy’s face lightened up into a faint smile, and while that gave Gordon some relief, he couldn’t help but feel sad that the normally vivid expression had faded so much.

Deciding to take the conversation back to what he actually wanted to talk about, he asked, “Wanna take a breather? The rest of us are. Can you mess up the door like the last one?”

Tommy bit his lip as he appeared to weigh the options. “This door doesn’t- This room doesn’t have a Tesla charge. So it doesn’t have the same-” Tommy waved his hand in frustration, “-Things. That the last door we blocked did.”

Gordon groaned, “OSHA Compliance?”

“OSHA Compliance.”

Sure, he knew why most automatic doors didn’t have an auto-lock on them, but it made things really inconvenient right now.

“How about we just block the door with something? We’re all hanging out on the ground.” Despite that last statement, Gordon adjusted himself so that he could stand up and help.

“Take it easy, Mr. Freeman, I can get it,” Tommy said before putting a hand on Gordon’s shoulder to keep him seated.

“But-”

“It won’t take me long, just keep- Watch out for the others.”

He wasn’t entirely sure just what he meant since Bubby was already faintly snoring, and Coomer was loudly snoring, but didn’t argue as Tommy breezed past him.

Gordon would swear he only blinked before Tommy had come back and settled near him and Benrey.

“You already done?”

“Yeah, just took some- Took a few chairs and made a barrier. The counter already blocks us from view. And the- the uh, blood trail should be a warning sign...”

Tommy sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Gordon, and it didn’t look like it was working.

“I believe you.”

The look Tommy gave him conveyed incredulousness and gratitude.

“We’ll get through this, okay? But don’t burn yourself out. I can keep an eye on things for an hour or two, if that would help?”

Sure, Gordon knew he would be an alarm system at best, but Tommy looked so tired. Even if Tommy would only take a short nap, it would be better for him in the long run.

Honestly, it would be better for all of them since he was the only one not physically fucked up in some way, but Gordon’s primary concern in the moment was Tommy’s mental wellbeing.

The quiet after the question stretched for an uncomfortable minute, but Gordon knew Tommy needed to think this through on his own terms. “Sure, I can- I can take a nap. Will you wake me up in-” Tommy then seemed to notice the lack of functioning clocks in this room, “-In a little while.”

“Poggers,” Gordon nearly died as the streamer lingo slipped out. Sure his interest in video games had slipped out earlier, but the residual fear of exposing his private interests to professional colleagues never went away completely. “Sounds good, I mean.”

Tommy shrugged before handing over the assault rifle and sliding down from his seated position to a laying position.

“G’night, Mr. Freeman.” “Goodnight, Tommy.”

#My writing #HLVRAI #Half Life VR but the AI is Self Aware #gordon hlvrai #Dr Coomer #Bubby #Benrey #Tommy Coolatta

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king-finnigan · 5 years ago

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Play With Fire - part 4

Masterlist!

***

He sits there for a while, his own spend sticky and dry on his skin, staining the fabric of his jeans. He knows he should get up, knows he should wash it off and change into something clean, but he can’t move, frozen in his spot, head in his hands, sweat cooling on the back of his neck.

His phone is still on the table next to him, the screen black and lifeless. He half expects it to light up with another call from Jaskier, half expects the murderer to never call him again.

He sighs, when something twists in his gut at the thought of never hearing Jaskier’s voice again.

He finally gets up, as anger courses red-hot through his veins, lighting a fire beneath his skin. He strips, throwing his dirty clothes in the laundry basket in the bathroom. He turns on the shower, turning the temperature way down, shivering as he stands under the cold water, letting it run down his back as he leans his hand against the shower wall.

It does little to douse the fire beneath his skin, does little to alleviate the anger and the last remnants of arousal in his veins, but he doesn’t turn the temperature up. He doesn’t care that his muscles will probably be cramped up in the morning from the cold.

He shouldn’t be doing this - having goddamn phone sex with a murderer, shouldn’t even be answering the fucking phone, at the very least. And he definitely shouldn’t be feeling like this - attracted to the man, looking forward to the next time he calls Geralt, apathetic towards the lives Jaskier could very well be taking right now.

He shouldn’t. It’s against everything he’s ever stood for, against the law, against his morals and principles.

And yet.

And yet, he can’t deny the glances he steals of his phone through the glass wall of the shower, can’t help but feel a little disappointed when the screen remains black and lifeless, can’t stop himself from imagining what Jaskier is doing right now.

Is he asleep? Is he watching television? Is he playing around on his phone, considering calling Geralt? Is he bringing himself to climax again?

Or is someone else?

And, oh, god, he can’t deny the sharp jab of jealousy that carves against his insides. He shouldn’t be feeling this, shouldn’t be considering calling Jaskier back to ask what he’s doing, he shouldn’t. And yet.

He sighs again, turning the temperature of the water down as far as it can go, shivering in the cold stream that runs down his back, making his muscles contract painfully. Good, he thinks, I deserve it.

---

He doesn’t sleep that night. He tosses and turns, sheets tangled around his legs, half his pillows on the floor. He looks up from time to time, staring at the ceiling, watching as the moonlight shifts slowly but surely, as it rises and starts to set.

He looks at his phone. So he knows what time it is, he tells himself, but he can’t help but feel slightly disappointed every time he sees no incoming calls or texts - althought he doubts that Jaskier is the kind of person to text. He’s too dramatic for that.

One or two or five times, he opens the ‘recent calls’ tab, thumb ghosting over the unknown number. Every time, without fail, he scoffs at himself, closing the app, almost slamming his phone down on his bedside table.

He tosses and turns and watches the moonlight shift across the ceiling. He looks at his phone, he puts it down again. 2 am. 3 am. 4 am. 5 am.

His alarm rings at 6, and he turns it off within a second, wiping his hand over his face as he groans. He’s unbelievably tired, and he’s not ready for another long shift at the prison. But he has to go, now that he still has a job.

---

As soon as he enters the building, one of his coworkers tells him they’re expecting him in the boss’s office. Whoever ‘they’ are, and whoever the new boss is - if there is one - she doesn’t tell him, and his stomach sinks to his kneecaps when he catches the grave look in her eyes as she turns away from him.

He sighs, gathering himself, before walking through the long, identical hallways to the office. He knocks, swallowing thickly when a woman tells him to come in.

He enters, and he’s immediately greeted by a petite woman, standing behind the desk. Her stature may not impress, but her posture does. She clearly is used to being in charge, she knows she’s good at it, too, and is unafraid to show it.

Next to her is a balding man, beard twitching as he smiles at Geralt.

He nods back, shaking both their hands, before taking a step back, hands folded behind his back, head raised. He knows what’s coming, can tell it from the look in their eyes, and he braces himself for it.

“Mr. Rivia,” the woman says, voice stern and authorative, her hands resting on the desk, and though she’s looking up at Geralt, she’s also looking down on him, at the same time.

“My name is Ms. De Vries, I’m the new prison director. This here” she nods at the man next to her “is Stregobor from HR. I think we all know why you’re here.”

Geralt swallows thickly, nodding, and she turns her computer screen towards him. It shows the list of badges used, ten days ago. She points to a highlighted line, showing that Geralt’s badge was used to open the door to the emergency exit, an hour after his shift ended.

“I don’t think I need to explain what’s going on here, anymore,” she says, grey eyes boring into Geralt’s. He shakes his head dumbly, clenching his jaw. “Go home, Rivia. Get your things in order, say goodbye to your family, explain yourself to them, whatever. I know you didn’t mean for this to happen, but two people are dead because of your inattention, so I’m giving you two days before I send the file to the police department.”

He nods, swallowing around the knot in his throat. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“I’m going to be honest, Rivia. It’s not looking good for you. You’ll definitely get convicted for involuntary manslaughter - the evidence is irrefutable, and you’ll be lucky if you only get a few years of jail time. I just wanted to warn you about what’s coming.” She sighs. “You are dismissed.” Despite everything, she genuinely seems unhappy that she has to do this, but he knows that she has no choice - she can’t just cover for him, that wouldn’t be right.

He nods again, leaving the office, heading straight back to his car, ignoring the inquisitive looks the other guards give him as he walks out of the door.

---

Fifteen hours and god knows how many glasses of whiskey in some dingy bar later, he stumbles into his house, kicking off his shoes. He slaps his hand against the wall, partially to hold himself up, partially to try and find the light switch.

He can’t find it, so he curses to himself, stumbling through his dark and empty home, hitting a piece of furniture and a few doorways here and there, but overall making it to his room unscathed.

Two days, the prison director gave him. Two days to get his shit in order, sell his house, what-fucking-ever. Say goodbye to his family. He scoffs. What’s left of his family is spread out across the globe, so he doesn’t really have to worry about them. Though, he’s not looking forward to the moment they probably see his face on tv in connection to Jaskier’s escape.

He groans, wiping a hand over his face as he looks up to the ceiling, head swimming. Two days. One of which he just spent drinking himself half to death. So one more day left. To what? Ponder his imminent arrest? Think about the consequences of his actions?

He snorts, shaking his head slightly, squeezing his eyes shut as a wave of dizziness washes over him. Fuck. He’ll probably wake up with a hangover tomorrow, anyways, so that’s another half day wasted.

He sighs again, eyes drifting close as sleep pulls at his limbs. Well at least I’ll get a decent night’s rest, he thinks, before falling asleep.

---

When he wakes up, his head is, surprisingly enough, not pounding, as he had expected the night before. He does feel heavy, though, as if something’s weighing him down.

He frowns a bit, slowly opening his eyes. The fog of sleep immediately clears from his mind when he sees blue eyes above him, and realizes he feels so heavy because someone is sitting on top of him, straddling his lap, nimble hands on his chest.

“Ah, good, you’re awake,” Jaskier says, grinning down at him.

***

Tag list: (if you want to be tagged as well, give me a heads-up! Send me a dm, or an ask, or leave a comment)

@just-a-himbo-and-his-feral-bard, @dandelionslute, @weakforjaskier, @the-blondey, @shipwrecked-nawtali, @bygodstillam, @rum-cream, @random-nerd-3, @allthethingshappening, @agentlewomanandascholar, @tschulijulesjulie, @noobtiedoo, @foddle-the-fiddler

#geraskier #the witcher fanfiction #geralt of rivia #jaskier #prison au #play with fire #part 4 #morals?? what r those #emotional angst

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cursedlemonade · 4 years ago

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To The Sun chapters 1-5

FIRST DRAFT of To The Sun. go easy on me here

Chapter I

“Are you crazy?!” I was carrying a child, maybe six or seven years old. I didn't respond to them, only roughly handing the kid to one of the many bystanders watching the whole scene unfold. It should have been simple. There was a house fire, we went in to get the woman trapped inside. It was routine for us to rescue people, we were called the Guardians for a reason. “Rose, are you okay?” Atlas got up in my face. Ashes sticking to their face and small pieces settling on strands of their blonde hair. On the way out a board had fallen onto my arm, I didn't dare look at it. It hurt to breathe, I was still coughing so it wasn't like I could talk. My arm felt like it had been set on fire along with the building. They caught me by my arms, releasing me to fall to the ground when I yelped from the pain.

“That looks bad.” a man said. He came to stand at our sides while Atlas sank to their knees to try and help me.

“No shit.” Atlas mumbled it, only loud enough for me to hear. I could tell they wanted to snap at the man, but that was a sure fire way to get screamed at by someone in a couple of days.

“Is he okay?” I choked on my own words, making them barely audible. God, I can't let another person die like that, not after everything. I was blocking out the pain, I was worried about that little boy. He bit me when I first picked him up, I still had the mark on my thumb.

“He’s going to be fine, some smoke inhalation but not much of it.”

We had gotten the woman out of the blaze, but she was unconscious. It wasn't until we were leaving the building that I heard a child cry for help. Atlas was my partner, and I gave them no warning that I was going back in. I had lost enough people lately, I wasn't ready to let someone lose their child. Especially not when it was because we were not fast enough.

“Can you stand?” Atlas kept eye contact, taking one of their hands to lift my head to keep my eyes on them. I nodded, though I'm not sure how far my legs would have carried me. A few seconds later I leaned forward, resting my head on their shoulder. My breathing was heavy, I had barely been able to breathe for five minutes. “I'm carrying you, you won't make it all the way back to Algiz and we need to get your arm looked at as soon as possible.”

“That was so stupid!” Archer said from the doorway, leaning on the frame. “I can't believe you risked that much! You could have died!” I wanted to laugh, he was right.

“She saved a life, Archer, calm down.” Alana was sitting next to me, treating the blackened and blistering burn on my upper arm. She calmly wrapped the cloth around my arm, careful not to put too much pressure on it. “I’m not exactly happy she went in there without Atlas either, but you have to think about the situation. You know you would have done the same thing.”

“I would have told Atlas where I was going.” Archer was pacing between my bed and the doorway, clearly frustrated and worried. I knew he would be, I was his best friend.

“It wasn't that bad.” Atlas cut in from their seat next to me, letting me squeeze their hand while Alana finished her work. “I was busy, I wouldn't have been able to go in any way.” Atlas wasn't really ‘busy’, they were just checking on the woman we had pulled out of the fire. She was unconscious, we were in the middle of nowhere and no one knew anyone in the house. We had no way of knowing that there was a child until he screamed. I still remember that rush I got. There was no hesitation, I just turned around and ran back inside. Bad idea from everyone else's point of view, but I would rather die than let a child burn to death.

“Can someone please explain to me what on earth even happened?” Archer yelled, frustration clear in his voice. “All I got was that Rose ran into a burning building and she didn't have any backup.”

“So you're yelling at an injured girl when you don't know the full story?” Alana chuckled and rolled her eyes. “I didn't get much else either. It was Atlas and Rose who were there.” her voice was naturally much higher than archers, but still lower than mine. She always had a certain tone in her voice that made her equally as approachable and terrifying. She seemed so calm, but you could tell she wouldn't hesitate to hurt you.

“I'm worried! I don't know!” Archer yelled back, moving to stand in front of me and look me over. I was covered in ash and dirt, along with a little bit of blood. I had a few small burns and bruises, but other than the big one on my arm I was okay. He grabbed under my chin and moved my head around a bit to check over my face. I laughed, I thought it was nice that he worried about me, but this was a little much. I'm sure I looked worse than I actually was though.

“Crystal is going to kill both of you if she sees you touching her face, at all,” Atlas said, letting go of my hand as Alana put my arm down. Atlas was there with me, they were one of my closest friends too. I was close to everyone in the room, and I was more than happy that my three best friends were the only ones there while I looked like I was going to die. That's how Archer was reacting anyway. Atlas looked annoyed with Archer’s behavior, and honestly, I was too.

“I think this is a special situation. It's not like I'm kissing her.”

“If you kiss me I'm going to break your jaw.'' I smiled up at him, trying to reassure him I was okay. Archer and I grew up together, we were incredibly close and I think we always will be. We both grew up in Maxten, a small town in the western mountains. I say small town, but it was more like a collection of villages that formed a central city. We lived off of the forest and rarely got any help from others. We loved our little society, but we were constantly plagued with war and infighting.

When we were kids, Echia had only recently become a country. It was barely five years old. Borders were still being disputed, especially Maxten. We split off from Tristain, who was in our west. They claimed that they had Maxten, to which our former queen serenity said that it was stated that echia owned maxten. She came to Maxten a few times, asking if we wanted to be part of Triastin so that there wouldn't be any more conflict. A majority of us said no, but she was willing to hand us over to preserve lives. I understood it.

Conflict still happened though, Triastin and Echia troops marching through our streets was a common sight, fights and death were also fairly common. My own father fell victim to a battle in the streets. We were the one place that knew how to fight, most parents trained all of their children to fight. we needed to know that living in the mountains, to begin with. Eventually, a lot of us got sick of it and started to plan to fight back. We were part of Echia, whether Triastin liked it or not. Men and women together, along with quite a few teenagers, managed to push Triastin troops out of our city completely. That's when Triastin gave up when they realized they were getting push back from the people. Echia was already becoming known as a force to be reckoned with because of how many of us fought in the civil war that gave us our country, our queen being blessed by Isa herself, and how well she kept herself together after her son was assassinated. We were the ones to start to break gender norms back when we were still part of Triastin, back when women stayed home and the men fought. When Serenity stepped up to lead and her people followed, it changed people. Of course, in places like Lacrynes and Bleotha, it was still an issue, but it was better now. In Othala it was never a problem, the people farther south never saw a separation over your gender. I couldn't imagine growing up in a world where men and women were treated as different species.

A few months prior we were alerted to a fire in Maxten that seemed to spread remarkably fast. Some people blamed mountain guardians, dragon-like creatures. But even if they were the fire god's guardians, they had no abilities of that sort. My people worshipped him mostly, and we were always blessed by him and his remaining guardians. They were thought to be extinct, but we knew they weren't. We had all seen one. We were called in late when as guardians we should have been the first ones alerted. We existed to deal with emergencies, our whole faction existed to help people. We were almost always dispatched to deal with these things, why was it so different? When we got there we could see royal guards, palace guards. They came from the same place but they had already been there for hours.

There were seven survivors. Many of them said that the fire seemed to have started around the river, which was what was cutting off the spread of the fire, but also cutting off the escape. Most of the survivors were children, led by a teacher. I had an older brother and a sister-in-law. They had a son who was seven, and we found no sign of any of them.

I remembered falling to my knees in front of the river, the light from the fire reflecting off of the surface of the water turning everything a golden hue. I started crying, as silently as I could. I felt like a failure, even though it wasn't our fault we were late to that fire. I remember Crystal hugging me, and I let her. Even though we nearly hated each other, she still chose to comfort me. She chose to comfort me, even though her lover also had family in Maxten. He wasn't fond of them, but they were still his family.

“So what happened?” Alana asked calmly, pushing me slightly to sit back down on my bed. Her voice snapped me back to reality. She picked her basket up off of the floor and started collecting the numerous ointments and rags off of the bench I had been sitting on. “You two were the ones there.”

Chapter II

“You scared me so bad, Rose.''Archer sat down next to me with a heavy breath. It upset me that he was so distressed over an injury that was ultimately minor. Yes, the initial action was stupid and risky, but a burn on my arm wasn't as bad as it could have been. He worried about me a little bit too much.

“I know, I'm sorry.”

“I'm proud that you saved him though. You risked your life though, and you got hurt.”

“We’ve run into burning buildings before, we both know I would have been fine.” his expression softened. He had slight bags under his eyes, some wisps of his dirty blonde hair hung in front of his face. I knew I had worried him, he had become increasingly more overprotective of me since the disaster that took our families.

“That was before Maxten. You came in here sobbing, and not from your arm. You don't cry from physical pain anymore.” well he was right about one thing when I get hurt I swear, I don't cry. After we made sure everything was okay, and that the mother and son were safe it hit me that we very well could have just saved two people from the same fate my mother and brother had to suffer through.

“I know, but I didn't let that get in the way at that moment. It only hit me afterward.” he paused for a moment and sighed.

“I trust you not to get yourself killed, but that really scared me. Please be more careful next time, or at least give whoever you're with some kind of warning. Eye contact isn't a warning.”

“I know, but I kind of panicked.”

“I understand that. Do you want someone to stay up with you tonight? You know as well as I do you're not going to be able to sleep for a little while.” That was true, I had been having nightmares pretty often since the disaster at maxten. Running into a fire wouldn't have helped a streak of nightmares about the exact same thing.

“Maybe. I don't want you getting in trouble with your girlfriend.” Archer and I never had feelings for each other. Even in childhood, there were never children's crushes on each other like half our friends expected. We just didn't click like that, and most people understood it. Keyword, most. His girlfriend hates me, she thought I was trying to take him from her. She was clingy in her own right, borderline controlling sometimes. He loved her though, and she made him happy. I wanted him to be happy, he was my best friend. I understand why Crystal thought there was a connection between us, the way Archer acted around me sometimes gave that impression. Like the times he would run to me after a battle just to grab me by my shoulders and make sure I was okay. Then again, I would do the same for him. That rarely happened, but the few times Crystal saw it she took it in the way most people probably would. We explained to her multiple times that it just wasn't the case, I had even explained that I had feelings for another member of the guardians, and definitely not him.

Archer and I sat down in the small commons room. Three long benches were surrounding a table. Three or four people could fit on each bench, making it easy for 12 people. There were only six of us though, so normally it wasn't too crowded. This time it was all four of us who were home. Atlas sat facing the fireplace on the wall, their heels resting on the table. Alana sat across from us, taking the leather brace off of her left wrist to get ready for bed. Atlas already looked half asleep, and all of us were urging them to go to bed. Archer sat next to me, watching as I stared at the fire.

“Well, I'm going to bed before I pass out over here,” Alana said, getting up and walking by Atlas. She hit them lightly in the head, before yelling at them to go to bed. They got up, more like they stumbled up, and followed Alana down the hall. Archer got up and walked to the kitchen, opening a cupboard and getting up on his toes to reach.

“Do you want anything?”

“Do you have any dried fruit?” he chuckled, grabbing something from the top shelf and tossing it over at me. I looked down in my lap to see some dried pears in a small glass container. “This is in glass, why did you throw it at me?” I laughed, taking the top off and taking a bite.

“Because I would have laughed way too hard if it hit you in the head. The sound it makes is great.”

“Not if it breaks!” he turned to me and smiled, grabbing some sunflower seeds from the lower shield and shutting the cupboard. The room was warm, Atlas’s paintings covered the walls, some of them painted directly onto the wall while others were hung up and painted on canvas or wood. I remembered walking in from patrols with Robyn or Thorn and seeing Atlas sitting cross-legged on the floor with a palette on their knee, paint on their hands and face as they painted a river or a sunset. A few of Alana’s paintings were there too, but she was much more gifted in embroidery or writing. She could describe something so well you would feel like you were there. Once, I asked her to write down what she noticed about an old Acristan ruin when she had to move through it. She wrote down everything, describing every single detail. Of course, Atlas tried to draw it and got incredibly close despite never being there. Alana could spend hours writing a description of the texture of a wall. A majority of the books on her bookshelf were all journals.

All of us had parts of ourselves in this room, be that something more noticeable like a massive painting on the wall, or something as simple as an old key Crystal found in her room under her nightstand. Personally, I didn't have much. Most of what this room would remember me by were dumb stuff I had done, like when I fell and cut open my arm on the wall. There was still a stain on the corner, even though we had tried to get rid of it. Crystal was the one who convinced us to leave it saying it told a story. The story was that I was chasing Thorn with a spider and I tripped over air. My head hurt so bad after that, and Thorn felt so bad.

“How are you feeling?” Archer asked, sitting back down next to me.

“Better. My arm doesn't hurt that bad anymore. Alana did well.”

“Has she ever done badly? She’s skilled.” We both turned as we heard the front door open, and saw Thorn walk in. He had dark spots on his clothing from the light rain, blue cloth over his face, and bags under his eyes. His hair was messy and his eyes had dulled from their normal bright blue.

“Tired?” I asked with a smile, getting up to take his coat from him. I knew he was exhausted, it was drawn all over his face. I wondered what kind of stories he would be able to tell, but he would be able to wait until morning.

“I had quite a day.” Archer got up too, watching as I walked over to the hooks on the back wall and hung up Thorn's coat for him. Thorn sat down on the bench across from where Archer and I had been sitting. His shoulders sank as he pulled the cloth down away from his face, revealing a new bruise on his jaw.

“Got hurt again huh?” I asked, walking back over to the seating area. Most times I would have jumped over the back of the bench and awkwardly landed to sit down, but with one of my arms half out of the function, I made the decision that it probably wasn't a good idea.

“I see you didnt have amazing luck either.'' I laughed, but Archer didn't seem to find it that funny. I liked Thorn, he always made me laugh, but we weren't close. He seemed closer to Crystal, they had very similar political beliefs. Archer was also a little jealous, but at least he didn't take it out on Thorn as Crystal took it out on me. He saw that he had me, so Crystal should be allowed to have Thorn. It still frustrated him though.

“Well this was my fault.” the fire crackled, making u all look down at it for a split second. I stared for a few seconds before Thorn's voice snapped me out of the rabbit hole my brain was going down.

“Is it a cut or what?”

“It's a burn. It should be healed in a few weeks.”

“Well, it's better than blood loss. I fell, so this is my fault too.” For a moment I wondered what he fell down, but knowing him he probably tripped over nothing and fell into a rover or down a set of stairs. That's one thing Thorn and I had in common: we could run through thousand-year-old ruins and be fine, but fall in the grass and break an ankle.

“Is that why you're back so late?”

“Yeah.” he sighed. “You know Crystal is going to be pissed if she comes back and you two are sitting next to each other right? I don't see anything wrong with it but she will see it as confirmation.”

“Speaking of which, do you know when they’ll be back? I want to talk to Robyn.”

“Yeah, stay alone in a room with him for a few hours and that will evaporate Crystal’s suspicions.” sarcasm rang in his voice, a joking smile appearing on his face. “But no, they were supposed to be back tonight too but a storm is heading in from the south so they're probably being held back.”

“Dammit. I miss him.” Archer looked down at me with a joking smirk on his face. “No. Not like that.” It definitely was like that. He knew it, Crystal knew it. I'm pretty sure everyone knew it.

“You seem nervous.” Archer’s voice almost made me jump, I had been focusing too hard on the drawings.

“I am,” Thorn responded, taking a breath. “The revolution in Kai is growing, I'm just worried this might turn into a real civil war.”

“It’ll be fine, Thorn. We’ll figure this all out.”

“You two still don't even know what side you're on.” he let out a laugh under his breath, but I knew he was serious and frustrated.

“I want to stay neutral until something else happens.” I sighed, my voice had become much darker. I knew it had, and I wanted him to know this is something I didn't want to talk about. “I don't want to accidentally support the wrong side.”

“I understand that Rose.” he took a deep breath. “I'm going to bed.”

Chapter III

I opened my eyes, groaning as the sun shone in through the window. I was laying on my stomach, holding my pillow in my arms while my head rested on the mattress. My room was warm, the stone walls were covered in Atlas’ sketches of Acristan ruins. On the back wall was a large bookshelf next to my desk. It was a dark oak wood with intricate little carvings and designs. We all had one similar to it, but each one had different objects resting on the shelves. My desk was a mess, a pile of books on one side, sketches and rubbings and other pieces of paper scattered around with my journal on top of it. Two more journals I had already filled sat in the corner, each handmade with leather covers. I learned how to book bind with Archer, though he never picked it up as a hobby like I did. I made Alana journals when I had time; she would fill them up quickly and said she liked looking over at her own bookcase and seeing the line of different types of stitches I used to secure the cover to the paper.

I got up, quickly getting dressed in some casual wear. Casual for us anyway; Dark pants with a button up shirt. My sword was sitting next to my bookshelf, though if I left the building at all I was required to wear it on my hip. I had metal guards on my forearm that covered part of my wrist. We had to carry our weapons and wear them just in case. Just in case something went wrong during the day and we didn't have time to get ready. I didn't take it very seriously until Maxten, that's when I started to stay prepared everyday. Everyone else did too. They said the wrist guards were in case we had no time at all. We were trained to use them to block and even to attack in some situations. If you could ball up your fists the right way you can use the piece of metal that was supposed to protect your knuckles to cut someone. Only if you hit them hard enough to break the skin though. Either way, it's going to surprise them to get punched and a piece of metal will pierce their skin. Or you could use them to block hits, and how to keep ourselves steady. This training would usually come from someone who was an older member of the guardians, but due to Talia being paranoid, we didn't have any senior members. So the captain of the guard taught us, even though he was our age.

The last set of guardians were suddenly ‘relieved of duty.’ It's suspected that Talia may have either not trusted them, or simply wanted a new set of guardians. For a few months the country was left without us, until they found Crystal sparring a group of guards in Algiz, and found Thorn a few weeks later in the tustin guard. They were both phenomenal warriors, especially for their age. I watched Crystal spar general Rowan and win once, though she had been practicing for a long time before that day. She was so tired when she got home she basically collapsed on her bed. Atlas and Alana were found together after dealing with a kidnapping situation, where Alana literally broke the man's skull. That woman had no fear. Atlas was the one who got the three kids out safe before the rest of the guards got there. Crystal was included, being called in to check it out. She always said that Alana had a fire in her eyes that she couldn't ignore, and that she refused to leave without Atlas at her side. Next was Robyn, who they found in bristol. Alana never said anything about what happened in Bristol, and he never told me so I don't know. All I know is that he quickly became one of the most reliable Guardians, to the point he was usually the one to transport messages from Talia. Archer and I were brought in next, being a mixture of Thorn and Alana's situations. We were both in the guard, I climbed the ranks quickly and was asked by Alana to join. I said I wasn't going without Archer, and she agreed. She told me a few months later she only let Archer come with me because she saw something of herself in me, and after hearing her story I kind of understood it. Kind of.

I walked over to my desk and picked up the stack of books, looking over which ones I would need and which ones I wouldn't. One on the Acristan language, one on how their religion differed from ours, one on different ruins and materials used to build them… one of the books had a jumble of maps tucked between its pages. I put that one back on the desk, moving to put the others back on the bookshelf next to me. My desk was still covered in papers, and some of them were important so I would have to look through them all to decide where to put them.

I heard someone clear their throat behind me and jumped. Needless to say they startled me. I was a bit too focused on what I was doing and had just woken up. I turned around to see Crystal standing in my doorway, a dead, stone cold look on her face. She also wore a cloth mask over her face when she was on duty, but it was pulled down to her neck.

“So what happened last night?” I knew that tone in her voice, I had gotten to know it all too well. Jealousy with a hint of anger and sadness. I groaned under my breath. Here we go again.

“I got hurt, if you didn't notice.'' I lifted my right arm up, pointing at the bandage with my left. She rolled her eyes, leaning against the doorframe. The air in the room suddenly felt heavy and thick. It was almost suffocating. She was pissed.

“I thought I told you to stay away from Archer.” she pushed some of her hair out of her face. It was long and blonde like Atlas’s, but a little more golden blonde than theirs.

“And I thought I told you it wasn't like that; we grew up together. If we felt that way about each other, he wouldn't have started dating you. He's not that kind of person.” Maybe that was a little too far, and I regretted it as I said it. It was true though. Archer and I had joked about dating in our earlier life, but always admitted to each other we had no feeling towards each other. It annoyed me to no end that I wasn't allowed to befriend a man without everyone trying to make it seem like there is something more than friendship there.

“I know he's not, and it's you that I'm worried about. You've got a pretty face and you're good at keeping secrets.” She took a few steps closer to me. She was a little taller than me, but not by much. I kept eye contact, looking into those ocean blue eyes of hers that pulled so many men and women. Here I thought she couldn't make me feel more uncomfortable. “This is my last warning. Stop ‘spending time’ with my lover.”

“Leave it be, Crystal.” I smiled upon hearing Robyns voice. He was always there to help me out in these kinds of situations. I heard his footsteps approaching in the hall as Crystal cursed under her breath. Robyn stopped in the doorway, glancing at me before fixing his eyes on her. “They're just friends. It's not that deep.”

“I can't just leave it be! How would you feel if your girlfriend was around another man like that?” She turned around and approached him, but he didn't react at all.

“If I had one, I really wouldn't mind it. I would trust her.”

“I trust Archer! I don't trust her!” he sighed, looking over at me. His eyes were partially lidded, heavy bags resting under his eyes. He brought his hand up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Crystal please, just drop it.” I don't understand why she still did this, I had admitted to her I had feelings for Robyn. I had also admitted to her that even if Archer did feel that way for me I would turn him down, and that I knew I didn't feel that way about him. At the same time though, I wasn't going to abandon my best friend because his girlfriend was a little crazy. Crystal muttered something under her breath and left, her footsteps echoing down the hall. That was over a lot faster than I thought it was going to be

“Well that was something.” I laughed, watching as Robyn took a few steps into the room. He closed the door behind him, turning to me with a tired smile.

“I have been dealing with shit like that for a week.” he chuckled. “I am so sick of her. I can't understand how Archer stands it.'' I shrugged, an awkward smile spreading across my face.

“To each their own?”

“I guess so. I'm sorry for not noticing earlier, normally I'm not far when she starts.” he turned to fully face me, glancing at my arm. I didn't even say anything, I just let him start asking questions. “What happened?”

“I'm going to assume you already know what happened.”

“I really don't, Alana told me to be careful of your arm and that's all.”

“Well long story short, house fire, there was a kid and we didn't know, I went in to get him and got hurt.” He sighed, sitting down on my bed. “But I'm fine. I should be fully healed in a few weeks. It doesn't even hurt that bad anymore.'' I sat down next to him.

“You're going to be the death of me, Rose.”

“I wouldn't be surprised.” Robyn smiled, relaxed and calm. He was home, finally.

“Oh, I grabbed this for you on the way home.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a small hardcover book. The cover was leather with a small symbol, the symbol of Dagslys. It was a sun with seven flames coming off of it. “It's a newer translation of Victoria’s journal, you mentioned how your copy was pretty old. I saw it in Tustin and thought of you.”

“Thank you!” I excitedly took the book from him, a wide smile spreading across my face. He smiled too, watching me flip through the pages and look them over. “I’ll have to read this later.” he had short blonde hair and honey brown eyes. I adored his eyes, they were beautiful. They were this beautiful golden honey color in the center that faded to a dark brown around the edges.

“Do you want to come on a walk with me today?” he asked, his voice almost a hum. It was calming. Before I could respond we were interrupted by shouting. It was one distinct voice, screaming about something we couldn't even decipher from where we were. “That sounds like it's going great!'' We both got up and rushed to the commons.

Chapter IV

Crystal was standing in the kitchen, shouting at Archer who was frozen in place. He was tapping his finger nervously on his thigh, his eyes were staring into the corner. He was trying hard to avoid eye contact.

“Look at me dammit! I'm talking to you!'' Alana was standing not far away, trying to speak. After a few moments of almost unintelligible yelling Alana finally got sick of it. Crystal’s face was red, her eyebrows tilted so far down her eyes had started to become hidden by her eyelids. Her eyebrows were a light brown, different from her blonde hair.

“Will you shut up!” Alana was so much louder than Crystal could ever be without screeching. I wanted to go get Archer; I could tell he wasn't doing well, but Robyn held me back. He grabbed my arm, causing me to turn to him. He was upset by this too. He wasn't as close to Archer as I was, but Robyn cared about all of us. “They didn't do anything! Stop being a controlling bitch and leave the man alone!”

“You might make this worse, Rose. It might be about you.” He had a point, even if I Didn't like it. Archer loved her, and the last thing I wanted to do was cause a larger problem than I already had. As much as I wished he would break up with her, he loved her so much. At least from how he talked about her to me… that's the only knowledge I had, other than their arguments. They kept their relationship pretty private, even from Thorn and I. Something told me that this wasn't about the relationship though. Or at least I wasn't what started the problem.

“Who are you talking to?! You don't even know what I'm talking about!” Crystal screamed, turning to Alana. Archer backed up, sitting against the left wall and sinking down to the floor. I started to walk across the room to him, but Crystal turned to me. “Stay back. He’s mine.” she had a low growl in her voice, a sound an animal would make to warn other predators to stay away from their prey.

“Crystal, you need to calm down.” Alana was trying too hard to stay calm, I could see it all over her face. I knew Alana well, it was very difficult for her to control her anger. She was working on that, and she had been for a long time.

“No! I'm not calming down! I'm sick of it!”

“Good, we're all sick of this. This is ridiculous.”

“What are you going to do? You can't touch me and you know it!”

“Don't test her Crystal.” Robyn spoke cautiously, slowly making his way to me. I was now the one frozen. I didn't know what to do. Archer looked like a wreck, he was about to break down crying. I saw the tears in his eyes. I wanted to help him but I couldn't help him from here. If I wanted to get up closer to him I would risk angering Crystal more, but if I stayed here I felt like I was abandoning Archer. Crystal's hands were balled up into fists, her muscles tense. The shirt she was wearing didn't have sleeves, and I could see how tense she was.

“I'm not scared of her!” She had venom in her words, mixed with rage and confusion. Even for Crystal, this isn't normal. She wasn't acting herself. “Archer is with me! He should be listening to me!” Maybe this was just her, maybe this was her I never got to know. I never saw her away from Archer’s side. If this was what she really acted like… No wonder he started acting so much differently.

“Please, calm down. You're not making the situation any better!'' Alana spoke fairly calmly, a comforting tone for anyone else in the situation. It gave me the impression that maybe she would be able to get this under control. That was all torn away though when Crystal threw a punch, hitting Alana square in the nose. She stumbled back a bit, her hands coming up to her face. She pulled her hands away a few seconds later, looking down to see blood on her fingertips. Crystal must have realized what she had done, because she suddenly looked terrified. Alana hit her back, a sickening crack silencing everything else in the room as Alanas first came into contact with Crystal's nose. Crystal barely moved, stepping back a few feet before she grabbed Alana by her hair and threw her to the ground. Alana pulled her down with her after grabbing her ankles. Alana hit her head on the stone floor, almost knocking her unconscious. Thorn and I made quick eye contact before rushing in to break it up.

Usually we wouldn't have to break up a fight, then again usually we were sparring. Not fighting to hurt each other. Crystal and Alana could, and would kill each other if we didn’t try and stop them.

Thorn grabbed Crystal by her shoulders, picking her up and holding her hands behind her back. Crystal fought back a lot, shoving Thorn off of her and trying to come after Alana and I. I had been on my knees trying to help Alana up, but she was dizzy and her wrist was definitely broken from the fall. I don't know how she handled it, but just based on how it was positioned I knew it was broken. Robyn grabbed Crystal by wrapping his arms around her, keeping her arms at her sides. She screamed and tried to bite him multiple times before Thorn was able to get a hold of her and keep her. I didn't stay much longer, getting Alana to her feet and helping her to her room.

Alana’s room was filled with plants. A few plants were sitting on a table in front of her windowsill. I recognized most of them, like chamomile, catnip, lavender and rosemary. A small pot of wild violets sat on her nightstand, the flowers slightly wilted and the leaves yellowing. It smelled like a greenhouse, the smell of lavender and rosemary drowning most of the other smells out. Alana sat on her bed, holding her sleeve over her bleeding nose. The purple fabric was being soaked with the red liquid.

“I’ll grab you a rag; don't touch your wrist.” she laughed, looking down at her arm.

“I can't even feel it yet.” Part of her wrist was red and swollen. By the crack I heard when she landed I expected to see it broken, but at the moment it looked like a sprain at most.

“That's an amazing sign.” sarcasm rang through my voice as I quickly walked down the hall back to the commons. There was a stack of folded white pieces of cloth that were always sitting on the counter. That's the only place I knew for sure there would be clean ones.

Crystal was sunk on the ground in Thorn’s arms, sobbing. She looked so tired and weak. I almost said something but Thorn motioned for me to stay back. She was deeply upset, and it was deeper than just her relationship. Archer was nowhere to be found either. knowing him, he went to go take a walk around the garden for a bit, and Atlas followed.

“Is Alana alright?” Robyn asked quietly, following me as I grabbed two rags off of the neat stack in the back corner of the counter.

“Her wrist is messed up, we should probably call a doctor. She won't be able to deal with that on her own.” I muttered, before starting to walk back to Alana's room. He followed. Our footsteps seemed ten times louder in the almost silent building, echoing through the stone hallway. “She might also have a concussion.”

“Calling a doctor for our doctor.” he let out an awkward laugh. “Sounds about right.”

“It could have been worse.” I muttered, running my finger over the smooth fabric in my hands. “Is Crystal okay?”

“No serious injuries, though I'm going to guess that her nose is broken. A few bruises… I don't think she's okay though. Physical injuries aside.”

“Oh I wonder.” I sighed, “I've never seen her cry.”

“Me either, and I've been here longer than you have.” This day took a turn for the worst so early. Robyn stopped as we approached the doorway. “I'm going to go get a doctor. Can you stay here for the time being?”

“Of course.'' In truth, I would have rather been out looking for Archer. I knew where he would have gone, and I knew how to comfort him. I couldn't just leave Alana alone though, especially with broken bones and a possible head injury. Alana could act like it, but she did not deal with pain well.

“I’ll be back in a little bit. Make sure no one kills each other while I'm gone.”

Chapter V

“I don't know!'' I laughed, turning around in my seat. “I was being stupid! As always!” Atlas laughed, falling backwards on my bed. Their shirt was in their hand next to them. I was able to see the scars across their chest and stomach. I knew some of the stories, but others I had no idea of. Every night we were stuck together on a patrol. We would tell the story of a scar, but Atlas had many more than me. There was one across their chest they said came from a training accident, a few on their shoulder from an animal attack, and a nice size scar from a burn on their stomach. It made their skin around their side and stomach seem much lighter than the rest of it, almost white.

“You were like ten! Don't they teach you not to go by that river!?”

“Of course they do! I was just one of those kids that thought I was invincible!`` I turned back to my desk. Papers and notes spread across it, everything from the rubbings that Thorn gave me to messy scribbles by old friends. Sketches from Atlas and descriptions from Alana. My desk was a mess. I had pushed away the nightmares I had a few nights prior. They almost never got that bad, it was just a special night I suppose.

“I understand some kids have no fear, but who tries to swim in the Sowilo river for a dare? It's all white water.”

“A dumb twelve year old.”

“Ah, so this only happened ten years ago!”

“I will throw you in the river.”

“You couldn't if you tried!” Alana and Crystal were shouting at each other in the commons, which had begun to happen more and more often. My door was closed, and we were all the way down the hall but we should still hear them. At this point no one was even going to try and stop them unless they started getting physical again. I would assume Archer and Thorn were both there making sure that didn't happen. Archer had barely left Crystal's side. I couldn't tell if that was because he was worried about Crystal getting hurt again, or if he was afraid she would hurt Alana.

Archer and I grew up together in Maxten, and our lives weren't exactly perfect. I grew up with my Mother, Father, and older brother. My father was killed when I was child in a conflict involving Triastin soldiers and Maxten’s Guards. I remember staring at his dead body in the river, and that image was forever burned into my brain. I was only seven. My older brother was ten, and he started taking care of me from that point onward. My mother supported us, along with help from the community. Maxten was tight knit, that's how I met Archer.

When I turned 13 I joined the guards, something my mother was very hesitant to let me do. At this point Echia had completely claimed Maxten, and Triastin had given up trying to take it. It wasn't worth the resources anymore. I met Archer there. We were around the same age, fighting together and causing some mayhem around the village. We became close fast, very fast. He stayed at my house a lot, despite that we didn't have much. His parents didn't pay attention to him, and my mother welcomed him as family. It was another mouth to feed, but it was also more company.

Atlas and I stopped speaking the second we heard another voice enter the argument down the hall. Why was Thorn yelling? He wasn't always calm, but he rarely argued with people. He preferred educated debates, not screaming matches. Atlas and I made eye contact, both of our expressions dropping to curiosity more than anything else. Their eyes were a bluish silver, freckles speckling their face as if the gods had painted them on their cheeks. Their features were slightly covered by their hair, which was still pretty messy.

“Do you wanna-” they cut me off pretty quick, rolling over to grab their shirt from the side of my bed and quickly slip it over their shoulders.

“Yes please.”

“Very eager to see some drama are we?”

“Hey, it's been a little too boring around here for the last few weeks.”

“Only because the two people that constantly start drama almost killed each other.” it might have been a little too soon to joke about it, it was a serious situation. Infighting could be the downfall of the Guardians, it had brought them down before. The very first set of Guardians under Serenity’s rule fell apart, it would be fitting if that happened to her daughter as well. I hoped we could keep each other together though. We were needed, especially now. Civil war or not, the entire country was struggling. Floods were becoming a problem as it began to rain often, and this budding revolution had caused major conflicts with Bristol and Tustin. Bristol supported the revolution, while Tustin believed it was a sad attempt to make history.

We left my room and began our walk down the hall, taking our time as the shouting stopped being so destroyed by the echo.

“We don't know who did that yet! It could have been a natural disaster, maybe even an accident!” Alana was clearly trying to deescalate the situation, but Thorn seemed pretty dead set on keeping it up. Crystal stood in the kitchen with her arms crossed, Archer standing next to her with an annoyed expression on his face. Crystal looked satisfied by what I could only guess she started, maybe to pay back. Archer looked like he was either ready to cry or punch a wall.

“It was those bastards in Kai! They have basically taken the city!”

“First off, no they didn't. Felix stepped down willingly to allow them to move it because he believed in their cause. Second, one of the only leaders that have stepped forward claims to have grown up in Maxten. They wouldn't have done this!” Instead of being angry, Alana looked like she was trying to reason more than trying to argue. She had promised me to try and learn to control her temper, the situation with Crystal wasn't the first time something like that happened. The other times it was Alana who caused it, too.

“They could easily lie about that, especially when so few people are left to confirm that claim! It could just be an alibi.”

“True, but that's why no one has picked a side yet! That's why we shouldn't be picking sides! Talia could also be blaming them to try and-” Crystal quickly cut her off.

“We all know Talia wouldn't do anything like that. She's barely 18, I don't think she could even think of that. She doesn't have advisors either.” her voice was bland and dry, almost robotic.

“It could still have happened, and we need to think of every outcome! We can't just base our beliefs on suspicion.”

“There is more evidence against Kai. we need to do what's best for the country!”

“Talia is barely an adult, with no advisors, and no one to keep her in check! I'm not saying what they're doing in Kai is a good idea but we need to change something!”

“Talia is doing great-”

“If Talia was doing ‘great’ we wouldn't be doing this right now! It's obvious she's done something wrong!!” At first we all were silently saying to let them handle it themselves, but I could tell Alana was starting to get to her breaking point. Stepping in now was a horrible idea but I was going to do it anyway.

“Both of you need to take a walk.” I stood between the two of them, keeping eye contact with Thorn. I don't know how he got so worked up over politics, especially when everything was so murky at the moment. “This is stupid. No one knows what's going on. We don't need another concussion.'' Everyone fell silent for a moment as Thorn stormed out the door, Crystal following him and Archer being pulled along. I turned and waved at me with an awkward smile on his face before he was tugged out the door.

“Well that was something.” Atlas walked over to Alana and I. She laughed under her breath, shaking her hands as if to shake off her anger.

“Tell me about it. That was stupid.” she said with a smile on her face. “Hey, I didnt hit him though!”

“Good job! You didn't get in another fight!” Atlas laughed, patting Alana lightly on the back.

“Thank you, I try.'' Robyn came out of the hall, confused and worried.

“What just happened?” he asked, running his hand through his hair as he sighed.

“Thorn almost hit Alana.” Atlas said with a chuckle, tying their hair up with a small leather strap.

“What? Why? I thought they got along.”

“Politics!” Alana put her hands up, almost like she was showing him an object. She laughed, but I could tell she was still a little shaken up. I silently wondered how much sleep she had gotten. Bags rested under her eyes, dark circles around them. Exhaustion was etched into every inch of her face. That was a normal thing to see with Robyn, he had trouble sleeping. Alana never had much of a problem with that though, I had never seen her like that again.

“Oh what fun. Politics.” Robyn sighed, grumbling something under his breath. “Though I'm not sure if all of this is simply ‘politics’ anymore. I heard enough to understand what you were arguing about.” he glanced over at me. I was fidgeting with my hands , picking at the skin around my fingers and rubbing over scars and scabs on my knuckles. I had hoped he wouldn't notice, but he knew me well enough to know I didn't like hearing so much about the disaster that killed my family, everyone I knew and destroyed my home.

“You're right, but I'm calling it that anyway.” she let out a quiet sigh, so silent you could only see the movement of her chest. “Though ‘current events’ would be a better phrase for it.”

“Someone should try and save Archer.” Atlas said, crossing their arms in front of their chest.

“If you are expecting me to go steal Crystal’s boyfriend from under her after all that, you've got the wrong idea. I love him, but i'm not going to get myself killed today.'' I said. A playful smile spread across my lips, but I was faking. I honestly just wanted to go sit in my room for a little while, try and process what was said in the argument I had just heard.

“You have a good point.” They pushed some stray hairs behind their ears. Their hair was still a little frizzy on top, but was overall pretty straight and well brushed. “I think I might be able to steal him without causing too much trouble.”

#writing #creative writing #novel #fantasy

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bitchardhendricks · 4 years ago

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Well I’ve Never Been to Heaven (But I’ve Been to Oklahoma) pt 17

I know it’s been a terribly long time since I last updated - to be frank, the last couple of weeks have been almost too full to bear. Wife and I foster dogs through a local shelter, and our most recent was a hospice foster whom we had for the last 6 months (aka all of quarantine and beyond). He finally declined to the point that we had to make the call, and we said goodbye to him last weekend and honestly? I’ve been too sad to do much writing or thinking about writing, because this loss, even though it was an expected one, has left a massive hole in my heart. Unrelated, but I am now in the remote wilderness of Colorado in a cabin for Wife’s 30th birthday - essentially sheltering in place, but with a hot tub and mountain views. It finally feels a little easier to breathe and the getaway has done me a lot of good. Here’s an extra-long update of Tulsa fic for an extra-long wait. I hope you all are taking care of yourselves out there and giving yourself breaks where you can. Catch up on past entries here, and come say hi and tell me about the pets that you’ve loved.

***

When Richard opens his eyes on Saturday morning with his face smushed against his pillow he suffers a dizzying moment of time travel - he’s in his childhood bedroom wearing one of his old high school t-shirts and seeing his Ninja Turtle sleeping bags rolled up on the floor. But there’s no Big Head playing N64 at the foot of his bed, and his sheets smell like detergent and some familiar floral scent he can’t quite place, not spilled Red Bull and teen boy sweat.

He flops over onto his back and closes his eyes for a moment, breathes deeply through his nose. Hears his sister’s voice, teasing but not mean: mooning over someone, that’s what he looks like. His mother’s voice. He’s a million miles away, like always. Jared’s voice, hushed in the dark. All I wanted was to find a place that I belonged, where I was wanted. Isn’t that what Richard always wanted too? Jesus, how many nights did he spend in this room, in this bed counting down the days until he could finally fucking escape, trying with all his might to think himself away from this place. “Creation is an act of sheer will,” after all.

And what did you create, Richie?

You made a shitty music player that no one fucking wanted, and you gave away your one good idea to your competition. What does that leave you with - a great company name? Shit, if Jared hadn't seen the potential of the algorithm, you wouldn't even have a company. Jared sparked the idea for middle-out. Without him, you wouldn't have middle-out, you wouldn't be a CEO. You wouldn't have anything at all.

Maybe Jared knows what he's talking about.

***

Diane’s already awake, a coffee cup cradled in her hands at the kitchen table, when Jared carefully and quietly emerges from Richard’s bedroom and shuts the door.

“Mornin’ sugar,” she whispers and gestures for Jared to sit next to her, which he does. "I didn't expect anyone to be awake yet on a Saturday. You must be an early riser, like me. Here, sit you a spell, lemme grab you some coffee. Did you sleep well?” she asks, as she gets up to fetch him a mug of his own. This force of Diane's maternal energy continues to catch him off guard, and he reaches for an answer like a man in an unfamiliar hotel room groping for the light.

“Oh yes, they were all nightmares I’ve had before so I knew my escape routes. I feel fresh as a daisy!”

“Mm, that’s good,” she replies, sounding far away as she rummages through a cabinet and pulls out a mug, then pads over to the coffee pot to fill it. “You take cream and sugar, sweetheart?”

“Black is fine,” Jared says, and gratefully accepts the cup she offers him. It says HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY in comic sans font surrounding a faded photo of the entire Hendricks family, sometime in the mid-90s from the look of the boldly patterned oversize knit sweater on Steven and the perms sported by both Diane and Caitlyn. They’re standing in a verdant field in front of a split rail fence, Steven and Diane in the back, Caitlyn and Richard in front; Richard is a skinny, coltish boy, those auburn curls still a riot around his head, his father’s hand clapped firm over his left shoulder.

“Somethin’ wrong, sugar?” Diane asks him, and Jared startles from his reverie. He shakes his head, quickly takes a sip, “Mm, no. This is good, thank you, Diane.” He tries very hard not to think about his strange, alien presence in the warmth of this woman’s home, with her powder blue terrycloth robe and her commissioned family mugs. They sit in silence for a moment, listening to the birds chirping outside the kitchen window.

“Jared, honey, can I ask you somethin’?”

“Of course,” Jared says, caught off guard. His fingers play with the collar of his plain white t-shirt.

“Richard has always been...sensitive. He acts standoffish, but he - he takes things hard, you know? I thought he might grow out of it. He was such a sweet little boy...used to pick dandelions for me on the way home from school, almost every day. Can you believe that?”

Jared looks at the unabashed grin on 9-year-old Richard’s face, standing in a field and squinting into the sun, laughing with his family. He can believe it. “Yes,” he says, but Diane doesn’t seem to really hear him as she continues.

“But you know, high school and hormones, and my lord did that boy get moody!” She laughs a little, but it sounds sad. “I just...ever since he went off to college, I feel him slippin’ further and further away from me. Does he - well, what does he say about us, exactly? Does he ever talk about us?”

Jared’s expression must reveal more than he intended, because she nods before he can speak. “Ah. That’s what I thought.”

“But it’s not,” Jared hurries to reassure her, “I don’t think it is what you think. Richard doesn’t talk about his past really, or anything altogether personal.” Except this weekend, his mind whispers and he tries not to flush. He’s full of stories this weekend. And those long nights in the garage, in the bathtub, in bathrooms of VC offices; all those fears, all those anxieties. It feels so terribly personal, but listen to what his own mother is telling you and give up all those fantasies that it could be anything else - it’s just business, Donald. He rushes on, “You have to understand, Diane, the tremendous pressure he’s under. There’s not really time or, or room for - “ but he falters, unsure how to proceed when he doesn’t really believe what he’s saying.

“Oh I know, he’s busy, always so busy. Off being a big shot CEO, I get it. I just wish...” she shakes her head, looks down into her coffee mug.

“I know you must miss him terribly,” Jared says, grimly picturing the ragged hole in his chest that would remain if Richard ever left him behind.

“Sometimes I wonder if...does he hate me, Jared? Is that why he won’t come home?”

“Oh gosh in heaven, no!” Heedless of houseguest decorum, he places one of his hands over her smaller one on the table and squeezes in an attempt to comfort her. Her only crime is loving Richard too much, an infraction he is all too familiar with. He can’t help but offer her a balm to soothe, even if it’s not his place. “He misses you, and he loves you. I think...I think Richard is someone who tends to live inside himself a great deal, and doesn’t always pay attention to the effect he can have on other people.” Jared can feel his ears pinking, but he soldiers on. “He’s like a shark, always moving forward, never pausing to rest because he has to attack the next problem and the next. And while that means he can stay focused on creating wonderful things, it also means he doesn’t always notice the little remoras swimming around him, taking care of him so that he can keep on swimming and avoid deadly parasitic infections.”

Diane looks at Jared, her face drawn and tight, an expression so like her son’s face when he’s working out a problem. Her eyes search his, and for a moment, Jared has the terrible urge to shrink before her, a child under scrutiny. “And is there someone,” her voice falters, “takin’ care of him?”

He’s caught, his heart thrumming like a rabbit’s in a snare, but he’s helpless against those wild blue eyes, and he nods.

“And is he happy?” She has turned her hand so that her fingers are now clutching at Jared’s, feverish. A woman holding onto a lifeline.

Jared wants to say yes, wants to say it’s terrifying and exhausting and every day is an uphill climb but we are building something magical together and he wants to say I am doing everything I can to make him happy because he said no to Gavin’s money and I didn’t know people could do that. What he actually says is, “I - I want him to be.”

She searches his face, her expression unreadable, then releases Jared’s hand immediately as Caitlyn pads down the hallway in an oversized OKC Thunder t-shirt and plaid sleep pants, yawning loudly. “Hey, mama, did you make coffee?”

#silicon valley hbo #sv squad #jarrich #jarrich fic #jared dunn #richard hendricks #sv fic #my sv fic #Well I've never been to Heaven

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indurarinks · 3 years ago

Text

stygian dagger

a sneak peek Like clamouring thunder intimidating a planet during a hot summer day, a small group of highly trained Tavali, the renowned pirates and travellers of the Universe, quickly dissolved themselves in the crowd as if each individual had always belonged to the scene. Bursting at the seams, the makeshift arena placated the savage desires of the rowdy public through violent, gruesome fighting. Their bellows demanded blood and guts from the unwilling practitioners of cage fighting, sold to this business for the purpose of serving the sick pleasures of the rich. Filling the pockets of greedy masters with abusive hands. Though illegal, the fights were wildly known throughout the Nine Worlds, beckoning hefty wallets with the promise of a night of indulgence. The three Tavali, fearless and unrelenting and heavily armed, approached the round stage, a fenced cage that had been electrified to discourage any contestant from trying an escape. Ushara, Davel and Trajen slowly descended the rows of stairs with a single purpose in mind. Rescuing Jullien eton Anatole. The bastard of the Ichidian Universe. “How do you want to do this?” Davel, Ushara’s older brother turned to her. Ushara Altaan, Vice Admiral for the Gorturnum nation (one of the four nations of Tavali) and the bastard’s best friend, thirsted for vengeance the moment she learned of Jules captivity. But despite the spiralling emotions, she led the rescue operation with military expertise. The Fyreblood in her was built for war, after all. Her breed of Andarions possessed the talent of pyrokinetics with their fiery breath that put them at great advantage in battle. “We have to find where they’re keeping the fighters. We grab Jules and get the hell out of here before I burn this shithole to the ground and cause Trajen here even more trouble.” The glance she threw at her boss and friend catapulted them both to a few months prior when she flew without proper papers and authorisation into Steradore to rescue her son and executed ruthlessly her son’s kidnappers. That was also when Jules crashed into her life. “Let’s start by looking for cells underground. I bet my money that’s where we will find him.” Trajen added quickly, the air of ancient wisdom surrounding him like royal robes as his eyes held a faraway look. Returning to the task at hand, the group proceeded through the darkened corridors, merging into the shadows like fading mist. Away from the main event and prying eyes, the three of them advanced into the house of horrors’ lowest pits where its security relied mostly on a few guards, now lying unmoving after quickly being neutralised, and the highest technology one could acquire in the black market. The collective tension thickened the atmosphere with Trajen’s warning. “I don’t know how long I can keep the interfering with the system’s security.” Visibly concerned for her boss, Ushara, who marched at front, turned back and gave him a look that silently asked him if he was alright. Though his expression had now been contorted into one of extreme suffering, Trajen nodded with a dismissive shrug. “Let’s keep looking.” Expecting the alarms to go off any second, inevitable frustration was slowly mounting between them as their options to find him grew scarce with the nearing of the end of the row of cells. “Where is he? Titana ræl. He has to be here somewhere.” Trajen’s curse surprised the others. Their Admiral was nothing but an infinite well of wise ponderation and heedful shrewdness. But this restless, almost sloppy version of him gave the others a marginal idea of the potency of the bond he shared with Jules. And where his loyalties lied. His purpose was clear. Despite Trajen’s many efforts to remain isolated from those under his protection, Jullien eton Anatole quickly wormed his way into their secluded leader’s heart with his wits and scars. In him, he found a brother, a kindred spirit. Both, a product of the brutality of their pasts. Drenched in darkness, Ushara refused to let old fears roar back to life as she searched each cell thoroughly. Those demons poked their incessant torment on her mind but she wouldn’t give way. No way in Tophet. “Jules! Jules! Dammit, dark heart. Where are you?” Her desperate bellow echoed through the hall. “Ah, shit.” Followed by a string of mouthful expletives, Davel run both hands through his tousled hair in evident denial. “What have they done to you, drey?” Terrified by her brother’s words alone, Ushara moved slowly toward Davel. Suddenly her legs weighed a ton, and all her instincts screamed at her. She wasn’t ready for what she was about to see. Her gasp of horror came without warning. Lying on the filthy floor of the smallest cubicle of that hellhole, he was in fetal position, back curved and head bowed to make himself smaller. His eyes resolutely shut, Jullien remained eerily motionless. Almost as if… “Jules..?” Low and soothing, her voice wrapped itself around him. “Please.” She begged. No reaction still. Lost to her panic and petrified by the shock of her best friend’s predicament, Ushara’s angry tears fell like an unexpected hurricane. This entire nightmare began when one of her cousins and his crew sold him as punishment for something he played no role at. Hate is an ugly creature whose talons infect the soul upon their impaling. And there is no recognition between right or wrong. There is just the ugly need for vengeance, the hunt for a twisted form of justice that’s justifiable through past suffering and grievances. Davel’s strained grunts catapulted her back into reality. For the time being and Jules’ sake, she vowed to abandon her thirst for retribution against those who sought to harm her best friend. Both her brother and Trajen joined their efforts to break him out. Between mighty brawn and refined brain, the electrified door of his dungeon held no chance against them. At the first opportunity, Ushara crawled toward the entrance on hands and knees. She outstretched her hand toward Jules. “Jules?” She tried once again. Only then did he shift his position, daring a tentative look at her as if afraid she might be only a mirage. “It’s me. Shara.” Her body ached from the awkward angle of it. “Come on, let’s go home.” When a single tear rolled down his face, her entire world shattered along with her heart. The agony and misery reflected upon those beautifully hybrid eyes, a mix of human and Andarion, clutched her insides before twisting them until she felt what she could describe as a poor replica of the same pain. Yet bravely, he offered her his bloodied fingers, silently accepting her strength to escape this house of horrors. As he dragged himself along the ground, Ushara confirmed all her fears. After the years of unthinkable abuse Jullien had fallen victim to, she feared he would resort to shutting everybody out to deal with yet another trial in his lonesome road of redemption, one he endured after she had promised him he was safe with the Tavali. She failed him. And she hated herself for that failure. Stoically, his face an unreadable mask of indifference, he stood awkwardly as Ushara embraced him in relief despite her reservations regarding his mental stability. “We better get going, guys.” Davel interrupted their reencounter with good motive. It wouldn’t be long until the alarms went off. “I sense trouble incoming, too.” Trajen added with a distant look. His impressive powers at work. As if on cue, the blaring sound of sirens threatened to awaken even the dead. “Let’s get out of here!” Ushara’s hand sought Jules’, tugging him behind her as the others hurried before them. Without uttering a word still, he followed after her. They were halfway down the hall when he broke contact with her fingers, turning toward a group of inmates, all female, as his fingers curled ferociously around the metal bars of the cell. His knuckles white, Jules tugged at the bars with a frightening growl. Eyes now full of untamed fury, he kept yanking and yanking. Unable to understand the source of Jullien’s outrage, Ushara spared a glance at her brother and Trajen before joining her best friend. He was clearly set on opening this specific cell. Mildly confused, she helped him by unleashing her fiery breath over the unyielding lock. It took some work as the ancient metal resisted more than first predicted but once it fell apart, he was quick to get pull the door open and venture into the room’s darkness. Tempted to go after him, she bit her lip. She shouldn’t. Right? Jules knew what he was doing. He had to. Right..? Praying for her friend’s mindfulness, she raked her fingers through her white hair while readying herself for the swarm of hostiles. “Shit.” Unholstering both blasters, Ushara aimed them ahead, patiently waiting to feed her need for violence. To sate her hunger to spill enemy blood. Surely enough, the first party showed up next. An eerie smile descended upon her lips. “Come get some, bitches.” She murmured dangerously, mostly to herself. Her blood singing in delirium for a chance of revenge. It was then Jules emerged from the shadows of the dungeon with a female stranger leaning heavily against him. Vulnerability surrounded this woman, obviously injured during her captivity. She was a vision, absolutely breathtaking. And totally human, it seemed. Golden skinned and green eyed, she beckoned every gaze in the room like a siren singing to her sailors. Finally, all hell broke loose. Ushara’s first two shots came as warning. After that, she was all business, no play. She went ahead of Jules and his companion, assuming her offensive stance before engaging in further confrontation. With envying expertise, she blocked every attack while ensuring their inevitable escape from this shithole by counter attacking tirelessly. She was an animal in the game of warfare. When every opponent lied lifelessly on the ground, Ushara released a breath of relief before holstering her blasters again. The barrels still singed her flesh if she were to touch them directly. Her babies were well used today. Collecting their breaths, the five of them exited the house of horrors without so much as a backward glance. Only Jullien hesitated briefly to bend his upper body forward so he could pick the woman up and carry her in his arms, regardless of her protests that claimed she could walk on her own. Once safely inside her ship, Ushara urged Davel to initiate the flight commands to get them all back home and far, far away from there. Trajen, the silent watcher, joined her while the both of them observed from afar the exchange between Jullien and the woman he refused to leave behind. “Is she trustworthy?” She whispered her concerns to her boss, hoping he could give her some sort of endorsement. Instead, he shrugged. “Time will tell.” Helpful. She grumbled quietly on her way to the pair. Despite Jules current inability to interact with the world outside of his well of misery, he still managed to put the human’s needs before his. A feat she probably can’t even begin to appreciate but Ushara’s version of a very malicious green monster was quickly suffocated by her immediate thought to not throw judgements before gathering proper insight. “Hi there. I’m Ushara.” The female warrior extended her hand toward the other female before pointing at Trajen. “That’s Trajen, and the mountain of a man at the front of the helm is my brother, Davel.” She finished with a sincere smile. “I—I’m Bonnie. Bonnie Bennett.” She cleared her throat to mitigate the hoarseness in her voice. “It’s nice to meet you all.” As she took Ushara’s hand in hers, she couldn’t help but noticing Jullien’s retreating form as he sought solitude to quiet his roaring demons.

#charmeddelicacy #stygian dagger

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