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hizashis-lil-bunbun · 3 years

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Like a Moth to a Flame Pt. 3

Back at it again and this chapter was fun! Next one we’ll be getting into some more juicy bits but I needed a setup for the scene. So enjoy my friendly little deviants!

Mild TW: mentions of blood, violence, attempted assault, and (very) minor character death

As always, I thank/blame @miscellaneous-bnha for the inspo

Part 1 Part 2

•••••

You feel numb walking down the darkened sidewalk towards home, shock and frustration making it difficult to put one foot in front of the other. It had been several weeks since you last saw Mirio, and there hadn’t been any reports of strange, paranormal activity in any other part of town. At least, not according to the papers. Even after the landlord had coughed up the money to replace the ruined fire escape, you’d yet to catch another glimpse of the golden mothman. Night after night you’d put out bowls of sugar water, stayed up late, even pulled a few strings of old Christmas lights out of storage to decorate your portion of the new railing. But come morning, you always found the bait untouched and it left you feeling drained and disappointed. You knew your nightly routine was starting to feel unhealthy, obsessive really, and that your performance at work had been gradually slipping as a result. But it wasn’t until today, when your boss called you in after your shift ended and handed you that soul-crushing pink slip, that you realized just how far it had fallen. And on top of all that, you’d missed the last bus home, forcing you to take a literal walk of shame back to your apartment.

“What am I gonna do?” You breathe into the crisp night air, unconsciously reaching into the pocket of your coat to fish out your phone. Without even looking at the screen, you unlock the device and open your camera roll, tapping on a folder marked “Moth” before finally looking down. There was only one picture on file, but you’d seen it so many times it was practically burned into your retinas. The image was grainy and blurred (not to mention overexposed beyond the point of recognition due to the flash), but you couldn’t give a damn about any of that. The only clear part of the image, the only part you cared about, was the pair of bright blue eyes staring back at you. For some unknown reason, the camera hadn’t distorted them, perfectly capturing their glassy, sapphire hue and wide-eyed expression of curiosity.

And you had spent countless hours poring over it.

In the beginning, you’d convinced yourself it was nothing more than a piece of evidence, proof of your sanity and a confirmation of his existence. But as the days passed, you’d come to take comfort in it, more often than not allowing your mind to wander freely back to the memory of his voice in your ear and the warm weight of his head on your shoulder. You hadn’t even posted it to any of the online forums, jealously hoarding it the same way a dragon protects its treasure.

“Mirio.” You exhale softly, thumb absentmindedly brushing over the cracked surface of your phone screen. “I wish I could fly away from my problems like you. Must be nice having wings…”

“Hey there, baby!”

A gruff, slurring voice abruptly snaps you back to reality, head whipping up to see a trio of men leaning against a rundown building across the street. Their faces are indistinguishable, partially obscured by shadows thrown from a lone street lamp shining over their heads. But you can clearly make out the brown paper bags they have clutched in their fists, the material crumpled and molded into the tell-tale shape of liquor bottles as they continue to heckle you.

“Why dontcha come over here and hang out with us?” The biggest brute calls out, beckons you closer with a crook of his finger. “We’ll show ya a good time.”

“Yeah, a real good time.” The man to his left cackles. His lewd remark earns him a few snickers from his seedy friends while a wave of revulsion courses down your spine. Catcalling wasn’t exactly foreign to you; in this part of town, it was practically expected. But their drunken words and leering eyes make you acutely aware of just how empty the streets are right now, devoid of other people or passing cars to offer protection (or witnesses) should they decide to take things too far. Still, you straighten your spine and snap your eyes forward, long-since trained to know it’s best to ignore their booze-fueled jeers and keep walking.

“Awww, don’t be like that, baby!” You hear one of them call from your right, “We just wanna have some fun!”

You keep your gaze trained on the looming silhouette of your apartment complex, soles of your shoes clicking against the cold pavement as you grip the phone in your hand even more tightly. You’re close enough to see some of the lights are still on your neighbors windows, probably cleaning up from dinner or settling in for a smoke and a drink. With the promise of safety so close at hand, you cast a quick glance over your shoulder….

And feel your blood run cold as you see the men casually strolling across the empty street to fall in line behind you. They’re whispering amongst themselves as they take a few more swigs from their bottles, their shuffling gait and longer legs quickly closing the gap between you. You pick up your own pace in turn, walking much more briskly now and earning a reproachful growl from the men behind you.

“Hey! I’m talkin’ to you!” One of them snarls, “Didn’t your mama ever teach you it’s rude to ignore people?”

You don’t respond to his jab, too afraid to speak regardless, and set off at a jog, determined to put as much distance between yourself and these morons as possible. But that action proves itself to be a grave mistake, as you hear the footsteps behind you pick up in speed. Before you can fully register what’s happening, one of the men appears over your right shoulder, laughing maniacally as he gives you a rough shove and sends you careening off course and into an adjacent alleyway. The unexpected move knocks you off balance, sending you sprawling to the ground and knocking your head into the concrete with enough force to set your teeth rattling. Even worse, you lose your grip on your phone, hearing it skitter off into the darkness as the men crowd into the alley after you.

“I think she could use a lesson in manners! Ain’t that right, boys?” Their leader asks mockingly, seconds before he grabs you by the hair and roughly hauls you back onto your feet.

“Please!” You yelp, both from fear and the pain shooting throughout your scalp, “I-I have money. You can take whatever you want!”

“Whatever we want, huh?” He says with a sneer, his face close enough you can smell the sour aroma of cheap bourbon and old cigarettes on his breath.

“Then gimme a kiss, sweetheart.”

His mouth is on yours in an instant, his free arm wrapping itself around your waist to keep you in place as he tries to force his tongue past your sealed lips and down your throat. Your screams for help are muffled by the kiss, and it’s all you can do to push against his chest and thrash wildly in his hold. His companions stand faithfully behind him, egging him on with bouts of derisive laughter intermingled with hoots to “hurry up and get on with it” so they can have their turn. After a few moments he pulls away for air, arm leaving your waist and clapping the hand that was tangled in your hair over your mouth. Meanwhile, his buddies move to either side of you to grab you by the shoulders and force down on your knees.

“Since you didn’t feel like talkin’…” He growls dangerously, free hand toying with the buckle of his belt. “Let’s see if that pretty little mouth is good for somethin’ else.”

Your eyes widen as his belt comes undone with a soft clink, tears pricking at the corners as he leers down at you. Instinct takes over as he attempts to undo his fly, and before he can move his hand you jerk your head back to partially free your mouth. Then you bite down. Hard.

“Fuck!”

He hastily wrenches his hand from your mouth before you can do any more damage while you take in a desperate lungful of fresh air. A quick glance at his hand shows you’d successfully broken the skin, leaving a perfect, crescent-shaped indent that was quickly beading up with fresh blood.

“Help! Somebody help! Rape! RA-!”

You’re abruptly silenced by a quick blow to your right cheek, delivered by one of the men still holding you down. Throbbing pain radiates out from the point of impact, making your vision white out and earning a cruel laugh from your captors.

“You little bitch!” The injured man spits at you, “Think you’re so tough, huh?”

A small click forces your eyes to open, only to be met with a glint of metal in the light of the full moon: a switchblade.

“Let’s see how tough you are when I slice up that pretty face of yours. Starting with that fuckin’ mouth.”

With a twirl of the blade, he advances towards you, relishing in your helpless state as greedy eyes roam the plane of your terrified face. You’re too scared to scream anymore, eyes squeezing shut as you brace yourself for the first cut. But instead of searing pain, there’s an odd rustling noise, followed by a colossal thump that seems to shake the very earth beneath you. The men holding your shoulders abruptly release you, backing away amidst a slew of bewildered curses. Slowly, you crack one eye open to find a new, dark figure standing in front of you, blotting out the moon itself and effectively shielding you from your would-be rapist.

“M-Mirio?” You gasp, voice wavering from disbelief and shock. The golden cryptid looks over his shoulder at you, only giving a chittering cry at the sound of your voice.

“What the fuck!?” The man behind him screeches, “The fuck is that thing?!”

Mirio’s head snaps around to face the terrified thug, wings slowly raising in a show of strength and dominance as he lets out a low, menacing growl.

“Y/N…” He snarls, taking a short step forward and shifting into a crouch. “Mine.”

“S-stay back!” The man stammers, jabbing the switchblade into the empty air in front of him like a puny saber. “I’m warning you!”

Mirio gives a low hiss in response, wings fully extended as he lowers himself to place one hand on the ground. You’re frozen on the spot, hardly daring to breathe as you sense the slightest movement could set him off. For a moment, everything is still. And then, spurred on by loyalty, liquid courage or a combination of the two, the other thugs charge Mirio from behind. Moving faster than you could comprehend, Mirio whips around with a high-pitched shriek, landing a powerful swipe to the center of one man’s chest and sending him crashing to the pavement beside you. The other one was luckier, successfully jumping onto the monster’s back and causing Mirio to rear up on his back legs once more. The attacker then attempts to wrap his arms around Mirio’s neck, perhaps hoping to cut off his air supply or at least distract him long enough for the third man to join the fray.

But Mirio was obviously stronger and smarter than he was expecting.

Clawed hands scratch at the attacker’s face and shoulders before the winged behemoth suddenly flops onto his back, bringing his full weight down on the foolhardy attacker with a sickening crunch. Rolling back onto all fours, the man is left gasping for air on the ground, possibly with a punctured lung or (at the very least) a few broken ribs. Undeterred by his pitiful cries for mercy, Mirio looses an unearthly roar before grabbing the man by the front of his sweat-soaked shirt, rising to his full height, and tossing him towards the empty street like he weighed no more than a ragdoll.

“MINE!” He bellows, “MIIIIIIINE!”

“Fuck you!” The remaining man screams in return, rushing towards the towering beast with his switchblade held aloft. “Die, you fuckin’ freak!”

Mirio shifts back into a fighting stance, his back to you as he lets out another spine-chilling howl and rushes forward to greet the oncoming attack. At the same time, the moon moves behind a cloud, throwing the alleyway into inky darkness as you shriek and cover your head with your hands. With your eyes screwed shut, all you can hear is the man’s incensed grunts and yells, overshadowed by Mirio’s own enraged roars and the scratch of his nails on the dirty concrete. After a few seconds of struggle, Mirio gives a piercing cry, followed by the wet sound of tearing flesh and a strangled, gurgling noise. The fight ends as suddenly as it started, the only sounds now coming from your own terrified whimpers and the clatter of the switchblade falling to the ground.

Peeking out from between your fingers, you find the sky has started to lighten once more, the moon reappearing from behind the clouds and washing the bizarre scene in an unsettling, ethereal hue. The scrawniest attacker is still sprawled out next to you, unconscious but mercifully alive given the force of his impact. Mirio stands facing towards you, breathing heavily as the wings on his back shiver and shake. And at his feet, eyes wide and lifeless, is the leader’s body, his face covered in deep claw marks and a puddle of blood seeping out from underneath him like an oil slick.

“You… you killed him.” You breathe, “Mirio, h-he’s dead.”

Mirio doesn’t make any move to acknowledge your words, simply sinking to his knees with a rumbling groan. He seems almost sad, remorseful even, with the way he hangs his head and curls his bloodied hands into fists atop his knees. In this new light, you also notice something on the mothman’s left forearm: a clean, shallow gash. That must have been the cause for his shrieking earlier.

Slowly you stand once more, swallowing the lump in your throat to take a few tentative steps toward the creature.

“Are you… hurt?” You ask softly, noting the way he jolts and then shrinks away from you. You’re only a few feet away now, close enough to make out the faint stripes and eye-spot pattern on his wings. You nervously crouch down, balancing on the balls of your feet but keeping a safe distance should he turn aggressive. A chilly breeze blows through the alley, pushing against your back and making the creature raise his head up slightly, sniffing the air. His gaze locks on your face, glassy eyes wide as he slowly puts his palms on the ground and gets back on all fours. He moves one clawed hand closer to you and you start for a second, taking a quick step back before catching sight of the streaks of blood dripping from his forearm once more.

“Hurt?” You say again, pointing a shaky finger at the wound. His eyes follow to where you’re pointing and he lets out a chittering mewl, lifting up his injured arm. His long, slithering tongue snakes out from his mouth and he begins to lap at the blood, wincing at the taste. You’re unsure if this is real or an act. On the one hand, it’s hard to believe a creature so obviously powerful as him would be so concerned over little more than a scratch. Then again, you feel certain Mirio is too much of a gentle soul at heart to fake the whole “kicked-puppy” routine.

“No. Don’t do that.” You chide gently, tone forcing the monster to stop licking at himself and look up at you. Moving slowly so as to not startle him, you reach into the pocket of your coat and fish around until your fingers close around a crumpled, but thankfully unused, piece of tissue. When you pull it out of your pocket, Mirio’s eyes narrow into slits and he bares his teeth to let out a small, warning hiss.

“Easy, boy.” You say soothingly, “It can’t hurt you. See?”

You extend your free hand and pat the tissue against your own palm, demonstrating it’s benign nature. Mirio’s face gradually relaxes as he watches your display, eventually crawling over the corpse on the ground to get closer to you. You’re now practically nose-to-nose with the mothman, dropping your empty hand by your side and using the tissue to gesture at the cut on his arm.

“Let me help.”

Mirio gives a short blink before shifting into a squatting position similar to your own, carefully extending his injured arm towards you. Doing your best to not cause him any pain, you carefully start to dab at the areas around the cut, mopping up the spilled blood as the monster watches you work.

“Y/N.” He says softly, his voice causing you to look up from your task. Mirio raises his other hand to touch the right-hand side of your face, sending a bolt of prickly pain shooting through your skull and making you wince. You’d been so caught up in the chaos and adrenaline-fueled high that you’d forgotten about your own injuries. No doubt you’ve got a sizable bruise forming from where that thug had punched you earlier. Mirio’s stiffens up at the your response, brow furrowing in concern as he quickly pulls his hand away.

“H-hurt?”

“A little…” You mumble in response, “But I’ll be alright.”

He stills for a moment and you offer him a small, pained smile, hoping to reassure him. And the next thing you know he’s moving, clutching you to his chest in a protective embrace and nuzzling his face into your neck. You squeak a little at the unexpected move, body going rigid in fear of being attacked. But soon his sweet scent and warmth fully envelop your senses, causing you to relax in his hold.

“Hurt.” He whimpers in your ear, “Y/N hurt. My fault.”

You can feel your heart clench at his words. He sounds so guilty. Helpless even. Like a child crying to their mother for comfort. Before you can think better of it, you wrap your arms around him in return, worming your hands underneath his wings to rest on his well-defined shoulder blades.

“Oh, Mirio no! It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything to hurt me.”

His body begins to shake, his breathing turning into ragged gasps as he squeezes you even more tightly. One hand leaves your back to cradle your head, the sheer size of his fingers tangling in your hair making you feel like doll-like. The two of you stay locked together like this for a few minutes, holding onto each other in the moonlight as Mirio continues to tremble beneath your touch.

“Mirio. I-” You softly breathe, causing him to raise his golden head and look you in the eye. You have so many questions for him, so many things you like to say. But all that comes out is a quiet, “Thank you.”

He cocks his handsome head to one side before a smile begins to tug at the corners of his mouth, pearly teeth reappearing as he gives a short nod of understanding.

“Mirio… keep Y/N safe.”

“Yes. Yes, you did.” You say with a weak chuckle, reaching up one hand to brush an errant strand of blonde hair away from his face. “I’m safe now.”

Mirio coos as he presses his cheek into your palm, the same way he’d done outside your apartment complex all those weeks ago. His eyes close contentedly and you can’t help but smile at his blissful expression.

“Y/N. Mine.” He purrs.

You freeze at the bold statement, pulling your hand away and earning a disappointed mewl from Mirio.

“You said that before. Mirio, what do you mean–?”

“You there! Freeze!”

A familiar voice cuts off your question nanoseconds before a powerful flashlight is aimed directly at Mirio’s back. Even though you can’t see around his massive frame, you can tell it’s the same officer who caught you the last time Mirio visited you.

Only now, the cornered cryptid hadn’t had the chance to fly away.

“Hands where I can see them!” The officer demands, flashlight in one hand and a pistol in the other. Mirio makes no such move. Instead, he rises to his feet, hooking one arm under your thighs and taking you up with him.

“Wait! Mirio, don’t!” You shriek, desperately grabbing at his chest and mane as he turns to face the officer. It’s a terrifying sight for the poor man: three bodies strewn across a bloody alley, a blue-eyed beast, and a helpless civilian seemingly taken captive.

“D-drop the hostage!” He stammers out. “Do it, or I’ll shoot!”

You can tell from the way the light wavers that he’s shaking and you suspect the only reason he hasn’t fired his weapon yet is because he doesn’t want to risk hitting you. Your eyes flit wildly between his and Mirio’s face, finding his fangs are bared as he lets out a warning hiss.

“Y/N.” Mirio snarls, wings slowly unfurling behind him as he bends his knees and tightens his grip on you. “Mine!”

With that final declaration, Mirio gives his wings a powerful flap and kicks off from the ground. You scream as you take flight, tiny fingers digging into the solid muscle of Mirio’s chest and neck for safety. Between the sound of rushing wind and your own heartbeat jackhammering in your ears, you can barely make out the officer’s voice telling him to stop, followed by a rogue gunshot. And then there’s nothing. Nothing save for the wind in your hair and Mirio’s howl of victory as he carries you ever higher into the starry night sky.

“Stop!” You shriek, cold air stinging your battered face and forcing your eyes closed. “Put me down! Mirio, let go!”

Mirio doesn’t respond to your demands, either unable or unwilling to hear you as he sets off over the rooftops. After a few minutes of careful flying, he abruptly changes course, veering off westward and heading for the woods that ring the city limits.

“Keep Y/N safe.” Mirio says resolvedly, his voice rumbling through his chest and directly in your ear.

“Y/N… mine.”

•••••

Tags: @middevil465 @delightfully-anonymous

#bnha mothman au #mothrio #mothmanmirio #mha x reader #togata mirio x reader #mirio togata x reader #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: attempted assault #mha #bnha

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pastelwitchling · 4 years

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If you're still taking Forlex prompts, can you do something where the only person in the friend group who likes Forrest is Kyle? You can take it anywhere you want but I'm really missing Kylex at the moment.

***

Alex tugged the hem of his jacket, staring out the window at the neon sign of the Wild Pony, flashing on and off in the dark, heavy rain.

They’d been parked for several seconds, and neither had made a move to get out of the car.

Finally, unable to take it anymore, Alex said, “We don’t have to do this, you know.” Forrest smiled, amused. “Seriously, we can go to my place, or – or another bar, or –”

“Babe,” Forrest said calmy, and Alex fell silent. “What’re you going to do, never see your friends again because of me?”

Forrest didn’t sound the least bit mad. On the contrary, he talked to Alex as if he was the cutest thing in the world for worrying. It didn’t make the sting in Alex’s heart any less painful.

“It wouldn’t be because of you,” Alex said. “If they can’t accept who I’m dating –”

“You mean they hate me,” Forrest interjected.

“They don’t hate you. They hate that I’m . . .” he trailed off, his cheeks red at the thought.

Forrest sighed. “They hate that you’re not dating their favorite cowboy.” Alex said nothing. “Michael wants you, and you don’t want him, and that upsets him, which upsets them.”

“Right,” Alex muttered. “So, if anything, it’s me they hate.”

He scoffed. “Who on this God-given earth could ever hate you?” He covered Alex’s hand with his own. “Listen to me. They can’t bully you into trusting someone you just don’t trust anymore, and they can’t chase us away. If they were really your friends, they would just be happy that you’re happy.” His grip tightened slightly on Alex’s hand, and his smile faltered ever so slightly. “You . . . are happy, right?”

Eager to erase that expression from his boyfriend’s face, Alex leaned over the console and pressed a kiss to his lips. He rested their foreheads together as he exhaled deeply, some of the tension in his chest dissipating at the warm, comforting touch.

“I’m happier with you than I ever thought I was allowed to be,” he said firmly. It wasn’t something Alex Manes usually said, not something that had been met with kindness in the past. But at the blatant, raw love in Forrest’s eyes, the way he followed Alex’s lips, eager for another kiss, Alex couldn’t find it in him to regret a thing.

“I just don’t want them to scare you away,” he confessed quietly.

“Hey,” Forrest took his face in his hands. “I’m tougher than I look.”

Alex scoffed half-heartedly. “You look pretty tough already.”

He smirked and kissed Alex again. “Exactly.”

With that reassurance, Forrest stepped out of the car. Alex stared at the neon sign a second longer before he followed. Forrest was at his side in an instant, his jacket raised over their heads. Alex couldn’t help but laugh with him as they hurried out of the storm. They were still smiling widely as they opened the door and stepped into the warmth and old music of the Pony.

Then Alex looked up and his smile dimmed. There he was, having noticed him immediately, was Michael, sitting at the bar. Alex was trapped, unable to look away until he felt an arm come around his waist.

“You smell good,” Forrest said, obviously trying to take Alex’s mind off the inevitable. “Like cake.”

Alex smiled despite himself. He ruffled his own hair, laughing as water fell and hit Forrest’s cheek. “You’re saying I smell like cake?”

“Is that not a complement?”

Alex bit his lower lip and hugged his waist. “Come on, weirdo.”

They both weaved their way through the crowd easily until they reached the bar. Alex had suggested, before they’d left, that they get a table on their own, far away from the others, but Forrest had insisted, “We haven’t done anything wrong, babe. We’re not running away.”

So there they were, taking two empty stools at the bar, only two seats down from Michael who had gone back to staring at his whiskey glass.

Forrest kept his arm around Alex’s waist, keeping him close. “Hey, Guerin,” he said.

Without looking at him, Michael raised his glass. “Forrest.” His knuckles turned white around his glass. “Alex.”

Alex cleared his throat. “Hey.”

They stayed like that, in awkward silence, for a few seconds before Maria came out from the back with several glasses in hand. She momentarily stilled when she saw Alex and Forrest together. Then she glanced at Michael, downing his drink, and turned a sickly sweet smile onto the historian.

“Forrest,” she said. “Good to see you.”

Forrest either didn’t sense the hesitance in her tone or chose to ignore it because he smiled back kindly. “Maria. Can we get a couple of beers?”

“Sure!” and she pulled out two ice-cold bottles from under the counter, handing them each one.

“Uh – how’s business?” Alex asked for lack of anything else to do or say.

“Good,” she said, still glancing at Michael. “Good.” She suddenly snapped. “Hey, uh, Alex, can I talk to you? Uh – in the storage room. Michael, you, too.”

Alex and Forrest glanced at each other, but unlike Alex, Forrest looked like he might laugh. Alex didn’t think it was so funny. He knew Maria would just pretend to guide them to the storage room and lock them in there for a while. Give them time alone to work through whatever she thought they needed to work through. A kiss, and all their problems would end. A kiss, and Alex would suddenly trust Michael again.

No, Alex thought, clenching his fist. He was so tired of being disappointed by those who promised to always love him and turned their backs on him.

Michael glanced at Alex and began to stand, but Alex said, “Maybe later? You don’t really need us both, right?”

Maria’s eyes narrowed. Michael stilled, as if he couldn’t believe Alex was giving up the chance to be alone with him. He slumped back down in his seat with a scoff, shaking his head, his smirk bitter.

“He’s too busy for his friends,” Michael said. “Right, Alex?”

Something in Forrest’s eyes darkened at his tone. “Easy, Guerin.”

“Wasn’t talkin’ to you, Forrest,” he said.

Alex grabbed his arm. “Forrest, let’s just go,” he said quietly, though he was sure Michael was listening intently enough to hear them.

But Forrest merely brushed Alex’s lips with his thumb and smiled softly. “It’ll be fine, babe.”

Alex gripped him tighter, frustrated. Didn’t Forrest get that Alex didn’t want him to hear any of this? He didn’t want Forrest to feel unwanted, not for a second. He was sure that Michael was fuming behind him, but he didn’t care. He only cared how Forrest felt now.

“Come on,” Alex pleaded, “we can go to my place, and –”

“Hey, buddy!” someone suddenly said, and Alex looked up just in time to see Kyle take the stool next to him. He slung an arm around Alex’s shoulders just as Forrest’s tightened his grip around his waist, as if they wanted to protect him from both sides.

“Uh – hey,” Alex said, startled. “How did you –”

“I called him,” Forrest said easily. “Thought he’d like to spend a night out after his double shift at the hospital.”

“I did,” Kyle huffed. “Real considerate guy you got there, Manes. You really need someone to get on you about taking a break every now and then.” He smiled at Maria. “Right?”

Maria, startled that Kyle and Forrest seemed to be together on this, smiled. “Y-Yeah.”

“Must be a relief for you,” Kyle went on. “Since you and Liz have been his friends all this time, unlike me. I bet you guys are really glad Alex is so happy now.”

Maria frowned. “But, I mean, Alex doesn’t really need a boyfriend to take care of him.” She gestured at herself and Michael. “He has us.”

Kyle didn’t answer, looking back to Alex with wide eyes as if to say, Got here just in time, didn’t I?

Alex started to smile. “Don’t you have an early shift tomorrow?”

“If I can’t be late for you,” he said, “who can I be late for?”

Alex scoffed, shaking his head. Kyle tipped his bottle at a displeased Maria in thanks, and Forrest gave him a wink before kissing his cheek. A glass shattered, but Alex didn’t look.

Half an hour later, Kyle got a call and excused himself for a minute. Alex glanced at Michael, then looked back to his boyfriend. “You good here?”

Forrest nodded, and happily accepted the peck to his lips before Alex walked out. He found Kyle standing against a wall, just hanging up.

“Hey,” he said at spotting Alex. “Get any glass on you?”

Alex winced, leaning his shoulder against the wall. “Guerin . . . has his moments.”

Kyle shook his head. “You’d think he’d be a little nicer to you, considering . . .” He huffed. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again; angry cowboy.”

Alex considered him. “I’m guessing that’s why you showed up tonight? To . . . what, protect me? I’m an air force captain, Kyle, I don’t need protection.”

“This isn’t about protection, Alex,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “It’s about showing you that . . .” he sighed. “That you have someone on your side.”

Alex groaned, rubbing his face with one hand. “I don’t want sides. I – I want to be able to get a drink with my boyfriend, and not feel guilty for it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling shakily. “You know? Forrest was right, we didn’t do anything wrong. So . . . so why does it feel like I did?”

Kyle’s lips curled in a half-smile, the weariness not unlike Alex’s own. “Look, man, I’m not gonna tell you how you feel, and true love is lost on me anyway. But if you’re really happy with Forrest –”

“I am.”

“—then what else do you need to know?”

Alex tried to answer that question. But Maria, but Liz and Isobel and Max, but Michael . . . And he realized none of it mattered. Not comparing it to Forrest’s smile, or his warm touch, keeping Alex safe. For the first time, Alex felt so loved that it was like everyone else’s anger around him couldn’t hurt him.

Kyle seemed to hear his thoughts and clasped his shoulder. “Don’t think about it too much. For once, Manes, for this one thing, stop thinking, and just live.” He shrugged a shoulder. “And hey. No matter what happens, you’ve always got me.”

A smile tugged at Alex’s lips. “I do,” he said, brows furrowed. That was one thing he could trust in, he realized. One thing that had been fixed and made stronger with a lot more than a kiss. Something, somehow, a lot more important.

Alex straightened, the weight on his chest lessened and making it easier for him to breathe. “You going back in there?”

Kyle hung his head back, huffing out a white cloud in the chilly night air. “In a minute,” he said. “Those last couple of rounds took a lot out of me. The cold helps wake me up.”

Alex nodded and moved to stand beside him. Kyle peeked an eye open. “What’s up, Manes?”

“I’ll wait with you,” he said, and at Kyle’s raised brow, tilted his head. “You’ve always got me, Valenti.”

Kyle grinned, and nodded. “Good.”

And they stayed there for just another minute, staring out into the storm.

#alex manes #kyle valenti #forrest long #forlex #kylex #forlex fic #kylex fic #forlex fanfic #kylex fanfic #forlex fanfiction #kylex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #forlex angst #forlex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael trevino #christian antidormi

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spaceiplier · 5 years

Text

SPACEIPLIER: Carry On

It was impossibly cold.

Mark hadn’t stopped feeling cold. Not since seeing Sean. Not since stepping foot into his ship. A sense of heart wrenching familiarity but stark shock at seeing how different everything was. Like coming home to find your parents had turned your bedroom into a study. Or a storage room.

Or a landfill.

The ship was a mess. Obvious signs of raids and attacks littered the walls. Dried blood, torn metal, sparking wires. Trash was piled in heaps in the hallways. Nudged aside to be dealt with never again. It was obvious that Sean had given up. He didn’t care anymore. It was just day after day.

Sean had muttered some apology about the mess, kicking a few boxes out of the way on their way inwards.

“Where are the robots?” Mark had asked.

“Powered down,” Sean responded. “They were getting in my way.”

They’d walked down the halls without another word. Walked until they reached a room that was surprisingly clean. Sean had left with him with a mumble of getting food, letting the door shut behind him as Mark stood there.

And he was still there. Hugging a blanket around him as he sat on the bed, staring at the opposing wall.

Mark had died and came back. The government was hunting down everyone like him to tear apart and discover immortality. The universe thought he was gone, and it continued on with its daily lives. Those in power continued to ruin lives to continue theirs. Those he loved were locked away for good. Those who didn’t know any better lived on, unaware that the lives they lived were founded in blood.

It was a strange sensation to know so much after a life of knowing so little.

Nobody talked about the quiet moments. There was so much empty space between trauma and… well… whatever came next. There were too many moments. Those quiet thoughts that grew and grew in the emptiness. The silence feeding them, letting them grow. The quiet moments were so long. They filled so much more of his story than the loud ones did

Mark would rather take the loud. Let it fill up so that he didn’t think about the memory of a needle in his arm and the lines down his back.

Loud.

Please somebody, be loud.

But all that was loud was the thoughts, and thoughts only cared for the memory of death and the fear of life.

It seemed so long before Sean reappeared in the doorway, but it was probably only minutes. He held some re-hydrated food, handing it over to Mark who cupped it in his shivering hands.

“Are you okay?”

“Just cold.”

The food tasted like cardboard. It was better than nothing.

“I wanted to ask you,” Sean started, leaning against the opposite wall from where Mark sat. He looked a little better than before. Haggard and tired, but the air of despair was gone. “You said Dark has Google. He’s using him.”

“I don’t know what for,” Mark said around the food in his mouth. “I only saw a glimpse, but it was like he’d taken what you’d made and then dialed it up to 1000.”

“That’s dangerous,” Sean said. “Google was already rampant. I was stupid back then, not putting in failsafe’s when his programming to learn would progress farther than it should. If Dark is giving him the ability to learn whatever he wants… letting him access every server he can worm into… fuck, Dark has every program and database at the tip of his fingers. He could bring down everything if he wanted too. Release all the information, or destroy it.”

“He has access to every server holding every piece of information with the Xanhull’s on it,” Mark said, realization slowly setting in. “He knows exactly how they tore his world apart.”

Memories of watching a world choke and die burned in Mark’s mind. Memories of holding the bodies… of them catching Dark… of them prying his chest apart while he hoped beyond hope that they’d just kill him… all Mark had were fragments. Madapriel had everything, and now he had proof.

“He’s going to destroy them.”

“What exactly did he have Google hooked up to?” Sean asked. “I don’t know a lot, but I know enough. We need to know how he was amplifying Google.”

“I don’t know. Some machine, and there were cables attaching the two. Like I said, I didn’t get a good look and what I did see was just… horrifying.”

Sean groaned, hands raking his hair. “God, Mark… we were just two nobodies just a few years ago. What happened?”

“I went to Earth,” Mark said, looking down at his hands. His clean hands. “And Madapriel came back.”

For a moment there was silence. Just the two of them thinking back on those years long gone when they were just friends. It was just games then. Play the game of life and everything will work out somehow.

Now it was corrupt and breaking.

“Where is Chica? And Henry?” Mark finally asked, filling the silence that was growing too thick.

“With a niner family,” Sean said. “I check up on them every once in a while but… I don’t know. It just hurt. Chica wouldn’t stop sitting by the door. Henry kept… Henry kept asking when Amy was coming back.”

Mark felt something already broken break a little more in his chest.

“We’re going that way now,” Sean said. “To the niners. Felix has been coming up with some big plan to break into the prison. It’s not going well but… hey, maybe with you back things will be different. You always were the one with the plan.”

“Mark knows best,” Mark laughed quietly, thinking back to missions with his crew where sometimes all they had was trust that Mark would get them home in one piece.

Look where that had gotten them.

“Get some sleep,” Sean said, taking the empty dish from Marks hands and walking out the door. “You’re going to need it.”

“Lights on. Get up.”

Amy stared at the ceiling, hands behind her head, lying on the thin prison bed. She hadn’t slept well that night. She hadn’t slept well for a year.

It was little things that kept her awake. There was no fear of nightmares because she didn’t have any. She never remembered them. It was just the details. The lack of warmth beside her, and the silence where there used to be breathing. Those details that took away any safety she’d felt sleeping here.

And then there were the thoughts.

Twenty prisoners on her floor. All non-lethal. One guard at all times at the end of the hall. Two patrols per day. Free time for six hours. Meal time twice a day. Yard time if they earned it, and work duties if they earned it. Three guard stations between her and Kathryn. Six between her and Ethan. Eight between her and Tyler. Random searches at least twice a month. Tracking devices on the bracelet they all wore, but it only made sure they stayed within the building. Jobs heavily supervised. Three guards in each work room at all times. Always watching.

Amy was watching too.

The guard, greeting each prisoner, came by her room again. They tapped the bars, drawing Amy’s eyes.

“Get up. Breakfast in ten.”

Amy nodded, and the guard walked off. Sitting up with a sigh, Amy looked over at the wall. Etched with lines. Line after line, seemingly random in height and distance. To anyone just glancing by it looked as if Amy was counting the days. Counting to keep her sanity.

Only she knew what it really meant.

Breakfast came and went. Amy did her stretches and workout, keeping her body busy in the few hours before she’d start her work duty. She’d spent months working up to her position. Months convincing any official in this godforsaken place that she was a good, responsible prisoner. She wasn’t bad, just had a tough break with a bad boyfriend.

A bad, dead boyfriend.

She shook that thought of her head.

Mark wouldn’t want her to wallow in sadness. He’d lived his life, and he’d done his best to give a future to those who could live it. It was her job now to start where he’d left off. Keep moving and get out.

Amy had a plan.

The hours passed and Amy finally was let out. She’d gotten a job as an errand runner. A position only awarded to those whom the prison warden trusted to be on the reform. She was stuck here for life, but they trusted her enough to walk freely enough throughout the prison.

It had also earned her a place of trust with the prisoners.

There was more to a prison than met the eye. Deals being traded faster than liakae. Mutual promises to not stab each other in the back to get what they wanted. Amy had found herself in a position of trust, not only with the warden, but with prisoners who wanted drugs traded. Who wanted messages passed. Who wanted bandages, extra food, new jumpers, whatever Amy could get her hands on.

She was a gear ticking along perfectly to the machine running a well-oiled machine.

The top half of her jumper tied around her waist; Amy rolled her shoulders in her tank top undershirt. Grabbing her cart, piling supplies and mail onto it, she started on her route.

It didn’t take her long to get to the person she needed to see today. The leader of the largest gang in Central Prison.

Yancy.

He sort of reminded Amy of Mark, in an odd way. The over the top ego. The confidence he exuded with every word. It was familiar, but at the same time so very different. Yancy was stagnant. He didn’t care about moving forwards, but only with his comfort. He cared about him and him alone.

And that was fine. Amy wasn’t one to judge. But Yancy wasn’t Mark. Not by a long shot. Just enough that Amy found herself trusting him.

“Whatsa news?” Yancy drawled, leaning against the wall, arms folded and leering at Amy as she rolled up beside him. She handed him a rolled-up towel, carefully hiding a pack of liakae. He took it. “Yous still feeling this uh little plan of yous?”

“Of course, I am,” Amy hissed, avoiding eye contact with the guard across the field. “I’ve been planning for a year. I’m going through with it.”

“Aight,” Yancy said, stuffing the towel under his arm as he stood. “Just so yous knows, that meetin with all the big shots up in Central is comin up. They be talkin about all those bigger picture things and not lookin at us little folk. Best be plannin your escapes around those big head honchos drawin all that attention if yous knows what I’m sayin.”

“Understood,” Amy answered.

“I’ll be upholdin my end of the deal,” Yancy said, eyes meeting hers for a moment that lasted far too long with far too much malice behind those glittering black eyes. “But if yous crosses me and my boys and girls, there will be hell to pay.”

“Understood,” Amy said again, meeting that malice with all of her own. Yancy smiled carelessly. He didn’t have a thing in the world to lose and he enjoyed it. Amy was the one putting her neck out there, and Yancy would enjoy seeing her keep or lose it with equal pleasure.

For a second Amy hesitated. Then, eyes darting for moment to meet Wade’s - the guard watching them across the way - she looked back at Yancy and asked, “I need a favor. Separate from the plan.”

“Oh?” Yancy raised an eyebrow.

“Tomorrow is the day that… the day that Mark died.”

“Ah,” Yancy instantly shifted his body in a way that was on the verge of being comforting, but still holding back.

“I know it’s stupid and sentimental, but even Cosmic Criminals get a marker. I just…” Amy felt herself choking up. Taking a moment to clear her throat, she stared Yancy right in the eye, unflinching. “I want a tribute.”

“Can’t yous request that from the prison?” Yancy asked.

“Not from someone like me. Not with my record. They’ll never let me step out of this place. I need one favor, Yancy. This one thing, and then the plan, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“Fine, fine,” Yancy said. He shoved one hand into a pocket, the other rubbing the back of his neck. “I also has one of those long gone companions. I knows what that feels like, and it’s not sunshine and roses. I’ll make it happen for yous.”

“Thank you, Yancy,” Amy said. Throwing another towel at him, she stalked away. “Now don’t forget about the plan.”

“I ain’t forgettin nothing!”

Amy quickly walked away, avoiding Wade’s watchful eye. She knew he knew what she was up too. She didn’t care.

It had been a year.

She was done caring.

The niner base was exactly as Mark remembered it. Nothing seemed to have changed in the year he’d been gone. It was oddly chilling as he and Sean walked through the city. Nobody paid him a second glance. Nobody recoiled from him like he was an unnatural abomination, brought back from something he should never have escaped from. Nobody cried, nobody smiled.

They didn’t care.

Nobody cared when Icarus fell, and nobody cared when he broke the surface of the water. Burned and scarred. A testament of ego gone unchecked and torched with arrogance.

“We’re going to see Felix,” Sean said, tossing the key to his ship to a waiting worker. Behind them several niners began unloading the cargo. Mark shivered, and Sean sighed. “You’re so fucking skinny now, man. Here.” Hailing down a worker, Sean got him a jacket. It faintly reminded him of the long jacket he’d lost when they’d been captured by the GAAP.

Too many bad memories. Keep walking.

Mark pulled it on, feeling better as the chill slowly left him. As they walked, he felt himself glancing over at Sean. He did look better. There was something in his eyes that had been voided. Something in the way he held his shoulders that had disappeared. It was back now, ever so faintly. That little bounce that Mark remembered in a younger pirate.

Oh yeah, that’s what it was called.

Happiness.

It didn’t take much longer, but they soon reached the entrance to Felix’s lair. The winding staircases a pain to Mark’s struggling legs and lungs, but soon they were there. As Sean pushed them open, they were greeted by that masked man, antlers tall and hair reaching his waist. What was his name again? Sive?

Sive nodded at them, wordlessly guiding them through the halls until they reached the office. He left them there with another slow nod. Those blank dark eyes seemed to linger on Mark. Looking him over. Looking into him.

Mark stared back.

“Well fuck. Mark Fischbach, alive and kicking.”

Mark looked over at the open doors. Felix sat at his desk, a cocky smile on his face as Sean walked towards him. Behind him Marzia smiled much softer. Unlike their unchanging city, they had changed. The white hair was streaked with darker tones, and his beard had been cut nearly clean off. Marzia’s hair reached her jaw instead of her waist, and there was a new scar running the length of her cheekbone. They’d seen some shit, just like him.

“Who would have thought?” Mark joked, but there was a wince in his voice.

“I’ll admit, I’m pleased Lixian’s theory about your orb was correct,” Felix said. “I’m guessing that Xanhull had something to do with that.”

“Madapriel brought me back,” Mark confirmed. “He said he had a debt to me. Wanted to repay it before kicking me to the curb.”

“We’re glad he did,” Marzia said.

“Enough of this,” Sean said, breaking through the small moment of reconnection. “We can talk about Mark’s resurrection later. We have friends in prison. We have a ticking clock until Dark, or Madapriel, whatever he wants to call himself, destroys the structure of the galaxy as we know it. There are Xanhulls being hunted down and tortured as we speak. We need to fucking move.”

“You’re correct,” Felix said, flicking on the screen Lixian’s animated form had once occupied. It filled with files, maps, graphs, and images. Each one of the prisons and the surrounding systems. “This is our concern at the moment.”

Mark walked towards it, eyes bouncing over each piece of information. At first it was a mess, but slowly Mark started putting together the pieces. A puzzle falling into place.

“You’ve been at this for a while.”

Mariza laughed, “Sean sure has. Throwing him against that prison over and over again. We’ve been planning. Gathering information. His reckless pursuit has yielded information, but we’ve been contacting inside men. Spies. Old allies, and new bribes. We’ve been calculating this one heist for a year. It’s coming together, and with you here, we might just be able to pull it off.”

“Are you kidding?” Mark gestured up at the map. “What you have here is a clusterfuck.”

“And that’s exactly what we need,” Felix said, templing his fingers. “A disaster, and many of them. There is no way into that prison that is not messy. There is no way to carefully hold onto my relations with the GAAP, while stopping their heinous actions and saving your friends. What we need is so many messes that they don’t know where one ends and where another begins.”

“You’re covering up the prison break in… with this?”

“Not just those,” Marzia responded to Mark, walking up beside him. “Those are just the ones that we could safely organize under the nose of the GAAP. There are some that we could use your help with. We aren’t exactly… trustworthy.”

“I’m a pirate,” Sean shrugged. “The only people who trust me is your stupid ass and our friends in prison.”

“And I’m a well-known dealer,” Felix said with a small smile. “I can threaten, bribe, and extort all I want. At the end of the day those only go so far. There is nothing stronger than what you have.”

“You have allies all over this galaxy,” Marzia finished off. “Your face is what comforted millions. Your actions have saved lives. If they know who you really are, they’ll trust you again. They always have. The words of a faceless government will never hold up to someone who has always helped those smaller than himself.”

“You want me to ask the people I used to help… to go batshit crazy against a government they have trusted for hundreds of years.”

“To put it bluntly,” Sean said. “Yeah.”

Mark looked up at the plans. It was crazy. It was insane.

It might just work.

“Alright,” Mark said. “Where are we starting?”

He had an hour before they were taking off for GGPS. Mark didn’t know exactly what it was, but Sean mentioned it was where he used to pick up smuggling jobs. An underbelly merc joint. Somewhere known widely throughout the likes of pirates and criminals. Though a smaller operation, Sean talked about it with found familiarity.

He’d almost stuck up a story about the place before taking one look at Marks face and shutting down.

Mark had left quickly.

There was one place in the niner base that Mark needed to visit. Felix had given him directions, and Mark found himself winding through the small city with steps that barely touched the ground. Rushing past species from every reach of the galaxy. Flying past them without another glance.

It had been too fucking long since he’d seen his dog.

Reaching the house, Mark burst inside. An elderly Nelidi woman shrieked, but Mark ignored her as a ball of green goop flew into his arms. Her whines and barks music to his ears. She twisted in his arms as he fell to his knees, trying to lick his face. Trying to run in circles around him but Mark just hugged her.

“Chica,” Mark sobbed. Fuck. She recognized him. She knew it was him.

Chica whined, flopping over into his lap as he hugged her. She didn’t know why he was crying. All she knew was that her dad was back and he was crying, the tears sliding right off her goop.

“Y-you must be Mr. Fischbach,” the woman said.

Mark looked up, barely seeing the woman through blurry tearfilled eyes. He wiped them. “Yeah. Sorry, I… I just…”

“I understand,” she said, still clutching her chest. “Just warn a lady, would you!”

A face appeared behind her legs. The long snout and nervous eyes of Henry, watching him.

“Mom Amy?”

Mark’s heart broke again. Chica jumped out of his arms, running over to Henry, and then back to Mark. Trying to convey to him that her dad was back, but Henry just watched. Mark reached out his hand.

“It’s me, Henry. It’s Mark. Remember? Smelly Mark?”

Henry hesitantly stepped forwards. His nose inches away from his hand.

“Not Smelly Mark. Doesn’t smell like Smelly Mark.”

“It’s me,” Mark said again. The tears spilling again. He needed Henry to know it was him. He fucking needed this dog - the only connection he had left to Amy, and one of the only real creatures left in this universe he loved - to know that it was him. It was breaking his heart to see Henry stare at him with that same distrust from all those years ago.

“Smelly Mark gone,” Henry said. “Mom Amy gone too. They didn’t come back for Happy Chica. They didn’t come back for Henry.”

“I’m back now,” Mark said. “And I’m never leaving you again.”

Henry cocked his head, taking one more step forwards. Sniffing his hand one last time. Mark held his breath as Henry nuzzled his fingers.

“Not Smelly Mark,” Henry’s collar beeped. Just as Mark felt his heart shatter in a place that could never be repaired, Henry said: “Amy’s Mark.”

And with that, Henry pushed his head into Marks chest. Chica bounced up behind him, tongue out and wagging her tail furiously as she butted her way into Mark’s chest as well. He hugged them, trying to catch his breath as he cried.

They knew him.

He still had his dogs.

“Amy’s Mark going to bring back Mom Amy?”

“Yes,” Mark said into Henry’s fur. “I’m bringing her back.”

“Good,” Henry beeped. “Henry trusts Amy’s Mark.”

The ship was quiet.

Mark stepped aboard, a hood flipped up and a mask covering everything from the nose down, exposing only the red eyes that carefully watched each and every patron watching him. He and Sean had agreed that Mark’s identity was a secret best kept for now. The universe thought he was dead. Ghosts changed things unknown and unseen. In front stepped Sean, much more casually presented. Sam zipped around his head. Sean limped slightly; Mark noticed.

When had that started?

“Jack!” A booming voice exclaimed. Mark’s fingers clutched slightly tighter around the gun hidden underneath his cloak. They relaxed only slightly when he saw the jovial face of the owner of the establishment. Arin Hansen, arms outstretched as he walked forwards. A barrel of a man with a long blond streak down his hair. Human, like Amy.

Mark blinked. When had he stopped thinking of himself as human? He was still human. Just not… completely.

“Arin,” Sean greeted, accepting the handshake. “It’s been a while.”

“Eighteen months,” Arin said. “That infiltration thing, right? Hope that equipment came in handy.”

“It did,” Sean confirmed. “I found everything.” Sean’s eyes briefly met Marks. “But we’re here for some hired help. Have a certain place we’re going to need to get into.”

“Of course,” Arin gestured to the ship. “What’s mine is yours.”

And what was his wasn’t much. It felt empty. Tables were scattered about in strategically placed locations, attached to the floor along with the chairs around them. There were a few raised and lowered areas. A few poles. The smell of cleaning solution as little robots skittered around. An empty dj booth sat at the far end of the room, and the entire place was lit with dull purple lighting. This wasn’t the normal hours of operation. Only a few pirates sat about in various stages of day drinking.

Nobody who they needed.

“So, what kind of people are you two looking for?” Arin asked, walking with them towards the bar. His eyes looked Mark up and down before walking around the bar, picking up two glasses. Mark shook his head and held up his hand, but Sean accepted the drink.

“A hacker, first of all,” Sean said. “Someone good at getting into a system.”

“Not you?” Arin asked.

“Someone better,” Sean said. “I’m good at getting into where I’m not supposed to be. I need someone who can get in and not get found.”

“We’ve got quite the array of hackers,” Arin said. “But uh… most have gone underground. Ever since that incident a year ago… you know…”

“Wait, what happened?” Mark asked. Arin looked at him quizzically.

“He was out on the outer rim for the past couple months,” Sean quickly covered up. “Didn’t get much news way out there.”

Arin watched him suspiciously for a moment more. “Twelve months ago Mark Fischbach was publicly executed. Nobody knew how, but moments afterwards many of the high members of the GLE and GAAP council members were executed. Their deaths led to a wave of enforcement. New council members stepped up and cracked down on the underworld. But not even the underworld. People started disappearing. Whole worlds are under heavy watch. The galaxy changed once Mark Fischbach died. It was such a small moment in the universe, but it changed things.”

His hand came up to tiredly rub his face. “Many of us knew who Fischbach was, even if we’d never met. He was someone who honestly tried to do good, and sometimes that’s all you need. It was hope for a better future. Someone who made others want to be better. And then he was gone, and along with that absence came fear.”

“It’s not just us lowlifes,” Sean said, meeting Mark’s eyes. “The GAAP is hurting everyone now. They got rid of Mark, and now they are going to get rid of anyone who stands in their way.”

Mark’s heart grew cold, and his hands burned.

“Who are you, friend?” Arin asked. “Not that I don’t trust Jack, but I haven’t seen your eyes around these parts.”

“I’m uh,” Mark floundered. “Bum.”

“Bum?”

“Friends call me BumBum.”

“Uh huh,” Arin said, staring into Mark’s eyes. For a moment Mark was certain he’d call him on his bluff, but then he was somber again, refilling his own glass and downing it. “Anyways, hired help has been a bit sparse these days. Not many want to stick their necks out when the GAAP is so stringent.”

There was a loud BAM as the door slammed open. Mark looked over to see a woman standing there, eyes darting about. She was breathing heavily, her hair tied back. She was Velm. Wearing baggy clothing with a large gun slung on her back, she hastily marched towards Arin. Mark noticed as she came closer that her eyes different shades of yellow. Curled around her neck was a small furry creature that hissed when Mark looked at it.

“They’re coming,” the woman said. Glancing over, she flashed her teeth at Sean and Mark. “Oh, hi.”

“H-hi,” Sean said. “Who is coming?”

“GLE,” she responded.

“Fuck,” Mark said, hands now burning. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“I see you also don’t want to be on their radar,” the woman said as Arin ran for the backroom. The lights turned from purple to red. Sean winced.

“You have no idea,” Mark muttered.

The few patrons jumped to their feet. Drunkenness be damned, their lives were on the line. A few ran to backrooms, returning with weapons. A few disappeared entirely, only for the roar of a spacecraft leaving to be heard. The woman swung her own giant gun around, facing the door.

“I’d find some cover, if I were you.”

Mark and Sean ducked behind the bar. As the sounds of an energy gun being charged came from the woman, Mark looked over at Sean. He was shaking, and little lines of glitch were starting to creep from his eyes.

“Hey,” Mark barked, and Sean’s eyes snapped to his. “Get it together.”

“I have everything together,” Sean said, but it wasn’t just his voice. There was another layer there. One that was serious and familiar. Another that was cruel and high pitched, delighting at the prospect of finding a foot in Sean’s mind. “We’re fine.”

“That’s fucking creepy.”

Mark jumped at the new voice. Glancing behind him, he saw an android girl. A Selachula model, with a small robot dog next to her. Eyes larger than a human and nearly completely black, a mouth full of teeth, and a tail that was more suitable for the ocean than land. Two jagged pieces jutted from her elbows, and she was dressed sensibly, if not a bit dramatically. The dog whined, covering its snout with its paws.

“Shhh,” the girl said. “It’s okay, Spence. The weird man isn’t going to hurt you.” Grabbing a bottle, she smashed it against the floor, giving her a weapon. “You two seem new around here.”

“Grumps Party Ship wasn’t exactly dangerous the last time I stopped by,” Sean responded, ANTI’s voice absent but glitch lines remaining.

The girl gave a short laugh. “Welcome to the new world. I’m Mika, by the way. Heard you guys got a job?”

There was no time to respond as the door was blasted open. Instantly the air was filled with the sounds of gunfire and the shouts of those charging. The woman gave off a few blasts before whipping back around the counter to find a new angle. Smoke filled the room as a stray blast hit one of the fog machines.

“COME AND GET ME MOTHERFUCKERS!”

With a scream, Arin burst from the backroom guns ablazing. Shouts turned to screams as the raging human tore through GLE after GLE officer.

“Actually, yes,” Mark responded as Sean’s eye turned red. A GLE officer had reached the counter, but was met by a manic Velm. With a laugh ANTI and Sean pulled the officer over the counter. Mika’s broken bottle stabbed into the officers’ throat, and Sean pushed them back into the crowd. “We’re planning a prison breakout.”

“Which prison?” the woman with the large gun asked. Standing back up she fired a few more rounds into the crowd before ducking back down.

“The uh Central one.”

“Are you out of your fucking gourd?” Mika asked, picking up a bottle and chucking it at a man who was just about to grab Sean. Sean whipped around and Anti slashed across his chest. “Nobody has even gotten close to breaking into that place.”

“I can do it.”

Mark looked back at the woman. She shrugged with the gun.

“Ever heard of GGG?”

“You’re GGG?” Sean gaped at her. The woman shot a GLE officer charging up behind him.

“Pleasure to meet you two,” she said with a hard grin. “I’m Gab. Hacker for hire. What’s the game?”

“We were uh,” Mark ducked as Mika chucked another bottle. “We came here looking for some hires. We need a hacker and any spare hands who specialize in being sneaky.”

“That would be me,” Mika said. Her mechanical skin rippled, and for a moment everything around her was blurry. It was like trying to look at a mirage. Then she was back and grinning. “I usually go for thieving jobs, but this sounds like fun. I’ve been wanting to do a good old fuck you GAAP job for a while.”

“Me as well,” Gab said, and the two girls gave a quick fist bump before separating to kill another officer.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE ME?” Arin continued to scream. “BITCH EAT MY ASS. EAT MY ENTIRE ASS. THIS IS MY HOME, ASS WAGON. FUCK YOU!”

“We can pay you twenty thousand credits,” Mark said, glass shattering above him as Sean threw an officer into the lighting on the ceiling. “Half before, half after the mission is over.”

“Thirty,” Gab said.

“Twenty.”

“Twenty-five,” Mika countered.

Before they could react, a GLE officer had grabbed Mark. He tried to push them off, but their hand caught Mark’s mask. For a brief moment the officer saw his face, and it paled. They knew. Mark yanked the mask back up. Nobody had seen but the officer, but their mouth was open. Ready to call back to the others.

And then their throat was gone. A swipe of Sean and ANTI’s claws taking care of the problem. Those dangerous eyes met his, and ANTI snarled.

“Twenty-five,” Mark agreed.

“Good enough for me,” Gab said. She slung her gun back around onto her back. “I’ll meet up with you guys at the Loom outside of Kell.”

“Can I catch a ride?” Mika said, picking up the robotic dog who was curled into a little ball.

“Sure. Later!”

The two girls disappeared into the smoke and lights, leaving the screams behind them. Mark and Sean shared a look.

“Do you think Arin can handle the rest of them?” Sean asked.

“Sign up now at your local supermarket for the rewards card. It will save you ten percent on FUCKING GODDAMN BULLSHIT, FUCK!”

“Yeah, I think he’s fine,” Mark responded.

The two quickly left the ship as Arin tore through the rest of the GLE officers, keeping up a constant rant of insanity until there were only bodies. As Mark and Sean flew far far away, Suzie kissed her husband.

“Want me to move the ship?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Hey!”

Amy stopped, looking behind her. Pushing his way through the crowd, Yancy ran towards her. She turned, crossing her arms. “Yeah?”

“I gots your tribute.”

“Oh,” Amy said. Her heart pounded in her ears, trying to sound nonchalant. As if she hadn’t been waiting for this for days. Yancy held out the slip of paper. Amy took it with trembling fingers.

It wasn’t much. Just the slip they gave you upon entrance to help you find the marker. The graveyard stretched for miles. A record of every deceased citizen of the GAAP. Many didn’t visit. They had their own graves for their families back home. Their bodies laid to rest on their homes with those they loved. But there were also those that had nobody, and this was the only place that allowed them a sign that they lived. A place to have a name.

Mark was that person, and Amy’s fingers could barely hold onto the slip that held the coordinates of his grave.

“Look,” Yancy said, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I knows we ain’t close, but if yous needs anything my boys and girls can get it for ya. Nothin fancy like, but yous wants a shoulder to cry on my boy Jimmy gives some good hugs.”

“Thanks Yancy,” Amy said. “I… I’m fine.”

“Uh huh,” Yancy said.

It hadn’t really seemed to hit Amy that Mark was gone. She had been used to Mark disappearing for hours and days into his own world. To Mark, his work was his life. She supported him wholeheartedly. She let him take on the universe, just as long as he let her take a piece of his. And he did as he worked and worked. Disappearing into that work and made Amy used to small moments.

She hadn’t realized just how long this small moment had gone on.

“Fuck,” she muttered as a tear fell. Wiping it away quickly, she smiled at Yancy. “Thank you.”

“No probs,” he shot back. He turned as if to walk away but stopped short. He whirled around to her, palm smacking his forehead. “Oh! I almost forgot.”

Amy raised an eyebrow.

“The girl I sent to yours long lost lovers marker found somethings that were a bit wonky. Some stuffs that I don’t think yous were meant to see.” Yancy dug into his pockets, looking around for guards. He pulled out another slip of paper. “My girl dug a bit deeper. She’s one of those curious types. Anyways, she finds this oddity. All prisoners whose don’t gots family on the outside have their ashes stored with the marker. But gets this. Mark ain’t got no ashes.”

“His mom and brother lived on Ventos Beta,” Amy said, but Yancy shook his head.

“Nope. Not anymore they don’t. My girl digs into that too and finds his familia has vanished. Poof. Gone. Last theys were seen was the day before Mark bit the dust. Pardon my expression. No record of ashes bein sent to them either. So my girl - name is Tiny, by the way. Sweet girl. Good with a shank - she digs a bit deeper. Finds a record of the cremation, but this thing ain’t up to snuff. Very shoddily made. Even some two bit criminal like me knows that ain’t it. So I has her look a bit deeper. Amy, I don’t knows how to say this, but they don’t have yous boyfriends body.”

“W-what?” Amy blinked.

“They had it, and then they didn’t,” Yancy shrugged. “I don’t know what to make of that, but thought yous should know.”

“Thank… thanks,” Amy said, her thoughts already a mile away. She walked past him, the marker slip still clutched in her hand. Yancy watched her leave for a moment before turning and going his own way. He’d done his part.

Now it was time for Amy to find hers.

And the game was just beginning.

#markiplier #jacksepticeye #spaceiplier #Amy Nelson #chica #mika #gabsmolders #game grumps #yancy #official story #lixian

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gegenji · 4 years

Text

Talks of Tea, Textiles, and Travel

RP Partner: @jancisstuff Date: 12 June 2020

Jancis Milburga enters the smithy, her arms full of a folded padded robe and box on top. Smiling at the reception, she asked for Chachanji, asks how they are doing, and continues to talk as she walks around the small shop to see what curiousities are stocked this time. The moment Chachanji comes into view she beams brightly.

Chachanji Gegenji || The hammering from below gives a solid hint to where the little Lalafell is, but a chime system set up from the desk to the smithy itself catches his attention as soon as it's rung. It's but a couple moments before the little Lalafell crests the stairs, and - noting who has come to visit - echoes Jancis' bright expression. "Ah, Ms. Jancis! Hallo!"

Jancis Milburga: "Chachanji! Althyk's Joy I am glad to see you again. Letters are nice, of course. Dare say it is a treat. I brought that robe you asked for and some tea from the Pillars. The House Hailenarte dries their own blend that I thought you or when others come to enjoy. May I join you downstairs? Did not have a chance to see your workshop before and it sounds like you were in the middle of a project."

Chachanji Gegenji: "Oh, th' robe tha' we were talkin' 'bout puttin' a linin'a chain mail inta fer protection?" he chirped in curious clarification, stepping forward to offer some assistance to the load she was carrying. "'n a'course ya can! Was jus' fixin' up some'a me own equipment in prep fer any troubles wit our next sub trip. C'mon down! Th' kitchen's down there too, so we can drop off th' tea too!"

Jancis Milburga smiles, thanking him as she hands over the box of tea. Gifts first. Though, at the density of tea within it's a close second to the robe for weight. "Thank you. I would like to hear more how your updates to the ship have gone. Dare say some of the Maelstrom folks I told about it thought I was telling a pub tale at first!"

Chachanji Gegenji takes the box and gives her a big ol' smile as he turns to waddle his way with it back down the stairs. "Oh, sure thin'. Honestly, we didn't get ta do much work wit th' ship thi' time, but tha's 'cuz somethin' more crazy happened. Involvin' storm machines 'n zombie fish men!"

Chachanji Gegenji tries to just get the box of tea up onto the counter but... between the counter being a bit high and the awkwardness of the size of the box, the Lalafell gives up on "the easy idea" after a couple times and patters around into the kitchen proper to put the tea box somewhere safe and dry.

Jancis Milburga looks around, just as curious to take in the kitchen and space as much as his words. She goes around the corner to really look at the size of the cooking area and storage. "Crazy is a small word for either one of those happening alone. I have not heard of such things." Jancis Milburga: "This kitchen is quite different. I will miss working closely around one another when I stay the night and help with cooking."

Chachanji Gegenji: "Well, ta be fair, I didn't know there was a storm machine 'til talkin' wit ev'ryone afterward," he admitted as he put the box away and turned back to her. "Jus' tha' there was a big ol' storm brewin' when we got there. Had to pull th' ship up onto th' beach 'n then help make levies 'n stuff ta help deal wit th' stormy waters!" He blinks at her comment and looks about the kitchen. "Ah, I 'spose it IS a bit less cozy, huh? Still, it has more space fer more nummy food 'n some more tools ta help-- Chachanji Gegenji: --make it!"

Jancis Milburga apologizes, "I meant it fondly! This is wonderful and you are right. We can make a lot of things. And everyone else who stays here! You build such nices homes, Chachanji." Jancis Milburga: "Especially as Torene grows and wants to help, too. That will be three pairs of hands at least."

Chachanji Gegenji: "Ah, all th' thanks should go ta th' builder tha' th' folks at th' Roadhouse suggested ta me fer when I was thinkin'a makin' some minor changes." A bashful chuckle. "Ended up bein'... a lil' bit more than jus' some minor changes in th' end, though." A scratching at his floof that pauses and his mood immediately brightens on the mention of little Torene. "Ah! How's lil' Torene doin', anyroad? Prolly glad th' weather's warmin' up 'n bein' able ta go 'round outside more?"

Jancis Milburga smiles, "She is well. Alas, the weather does not warm up much in the Pillars. Her uncle gifted her with paints. So she has been enjoying those. She makes the most amazing swirls of colors. You are right, though. Staying elsewhere for the Summer would be nice." Jancis Milburga: "And staying with good friends."

Chachanji Gegenji: "Oh, yeah... 's always so cold up 'round those parts." He shivers a little, his dislike of colder climes shining through a little. He recovers quickly, though. "Well, th' guest room's yers if'n ya guys ev'r want ta come by here," he stated with a nod. "Will need ta see what she's managed ta paint too!"

Jancis Milburga beams, "You would like some of her art?"

Chachanji Gegenji: "A'course! Would love ta see what's she's makin'," he responds with another nod. "Who knows. Mebbe I can get some put up 'round th' place. Give it s'more of a homely touch upstairs."

Jancis Milburga: "I will ask her to make one for you. That is a wonderful idea. Art is meant to be shared. Put up. I will not forget. Forgive me, we were talking about preparing your armor after the seas were too stormy. And purposefully it sounds like. That makes no sense. Save for a sure wind, sailors prefer calm seas."

Chachanji Gegenji chuckles. "'s fine, 's fine," he reassures her with a wave of his hand. "Well, th' place we're tryin' ta get to under th' water has a weather machine 'r somethin' innit, apparently. So - since both times we were gonna take th' sub out th' weather got bad - I started wonderin' if'n somethin' was up. Was thinkin' it was th' kami warnin' us'a th' dangers... but 'pparently could be tha' thin' too. Though we dunno if'n it's bein' used actively ta stop us or jus'... y'know, coincidence." Chachanji Gegenji: "Will hafta see if'n it happens a third time, I 'spose."

Jancis Milburga furrows her brow, "The wavekin being hostile, the weather forced to be the same. Nymeia's Grace, that would be quite the coincidence. And there are little ones involved. You are right to get prepared for the worst while expecting the best." Jancis Milburga: "And you spoke of zombies." Jancis Milburga frowns more.

Chachanji Gegenji: "Yeah. 'n not jus' wit me armor. 'pparently Virara's been down there too... so I figgered I'd see if'n she'd be willin' ta come help," he stated with a nod. "'cuz... yeah. 'pparently some of th' other folks have dealt wit these zombie fishmen 'n never told me." He pouts, it seemed to be a bit of a sore spot for some reason. "'specially considerin' some of th' ones tha' showed up were pretty big! Like... not full Gojirafell big but... still pretty big!" He motioned with his hands in some vague-- Chachanji Gegenji: --attempt to imply how tall they were. Chachanji Gegenji: "... Act'lly, considerin' how many there were durin' tha' storm 'n th' danger they caused ta th' levies 'n stuff... I may'a thought 'bout goin' Big ta try'n distract 'em 'r hold 'em off..." He scratches at his cheek. "'c-course, th' LAST time sea folk saw tha' form... didn't go too well, as ya 'member..." Referring to the boat trip to Kugane. "So... 'm glad we managed ta distract 'em instead wit'out me havin' ta do tha'..."

Jancis Milburga tries to see the invisible measurements he motions on. "Thal's Flame." She swears quietly. Jancis Milburga: "That is true. It could cause others to run into harm out of confusion. Still a good thought, though, when the need is greatest. Or perhaps under the waves, before it reaches the others?"

Chachanji Gegenji: "Mebbe..." He seems a bit thoughtful on the subject. Perhaps a couple of situations had come up where he felt going Big might've actually been useful, a bit of a detour from his usual feeling of not using it except in absolute dire emergencies. When it might be too late by that point anyway. "'s... somethin' I'll hafta think on. 'course, usin' it when we're in th' sub or down in th' undersea place we're goin'... might not be such a good idea." An awkward chuckle.

Jancis Milburga smiles thoughtfully, "Sounds like the armor you made for the ship though withstood enough that you did not have to. It was not compromised. You are so aware of others around you. Do you think you could tell the crew or some of them of your abilities?" Jancis Milburga: "I am lucky, I was there figuring it out with you."

Chachanji Gegenji: "I mean... mebbe?" he admitted. "I mean, Ms. Aya is one'a th' folks takin' part 'n she's a good friend." He fidgets, though. "But... mebbe it ain't such a good idea? After all, there's already a lot we're dealin' wit 'tween our goals 'n Ms. Seseka's goals 'n th' Eglantines' goals... 'n tha's ev'n a'fore all th' stuff with th' place we're goin' ta gets added in. What wit th' fishmen zombies 'n th' weather machine 'n whatev'r other gadgets they gots down there..." Chachanji Gegenji: "I... dun really want to add more potential pro'lems 'r distractions ta th' pile."

Jancis Milburga nods, "I have no doubt you know the best approach and the capabilities of everyone with you as much as your own. It is nice to think it through outloud. I like it." Jancis Milburga: "Then the armor."

Chachanji Gegenji: "I 'unno 'bout th' -best- approach," he admits bashfully. "Though... mebbe I should look inta ways ta make sure I dun go big while 'm down there. Mebbe take one'a Tiroro's ol' antimagic potions a'forehand jus' in case..." He cants his head this way and that thoughtfully. And then he blinks. "Oh! Right! Th' armor. Should we get yer robe all chainmail'd up?"

Jancis Milburga squeezes the robe draped over her arms. "I meant yours, but if you wish to look over this now and figure out what would work well for me."

Chachanji Gegenji: "Oooh! Yeah. Me armor should be plenty good down there, 'specially if'n we also have someone like Virara 'round ta help wit zombie-punchin'," he affirms after a bit of an embarassed blush and chuckle. "'n yeah! I can do it now. I haven't needed ta break out me armor as much as'a late so... mosta what I was doin' was makin' some minor adjustments 'n jus' makin' sure it was all ship-shape fer... uh... wearin' on th' ship."

Jancis Milburga: "And in the water I can imagine. That is one of mine concerns with the robe. I practiced wearing armor before and dare admit it is difficult. Especially on my hands or feet.

Chachanji Gegenji: "Well, hopefully I won't be in th' water itself much at all... th' inside'a th' sub's pretty dry 'n 'm hopin' th' undersea place is too..." He seems a bit less certain on that part. "W-well, 'm sure if'n it's wet there, Virara'll be able ta warn me a'forehand. Will need ta make sure ta ask 'er..." He taps at his chin before shaking his head and returning to the topic at hand. "Ah, yeah, gauntlets can kinda make more delicate finger movements more difficult... so tha' could def'nitely be-- Chachanji Gegenji: a pro'lem if'n ya need ta cast yer magicks 'n stuff..." Chachanji Gegenji: "But if'n it's jus' th' robe, it shouldn't hinder those movements too much. Yer arms might feel a bit heavier but if'n it's still light 'nuff fer ya, it could be somethin' ya jus' get used ta." He cants his head this way and that. "... It might not be a perfect match but... I thin' ya might be able ta try wearin' one'a me chainmail-lined yukata's like a shirt 'n see how tha' feels? Can use tha' ta figger out how much 'r how little chain ta put in th' robe?"

Jancis Milburga tilts her head curiously as she listens, nodding along, echoing his words with agreement. "Virara will." "Pretty dry." She frees one arm to show Chachanji her wraps as they are, sewn in with details and natural charms. "Verily. I do. Or healing work in the field. I have these in case I am disarmed I can still accomplish some conjury. Or if I need to carry someone." She comes closer and looks over the yukata. "Okay. I will try on whatever you like."

Chachanji Gegenji looks over the wraps with wide, surprised eyes. "Whoa. Ya can do stuff like tha' wit these?" He looks up at her with admiration even as she draws closer to look at his own outfit. He shoulders off the outer layer of his yukata and holds it up for her to see. Given his stocky frame - coupled with his further attempts to blur this fact with his clothing - Jancis could probably slip her arms through the sleeves pretty easily. They'd just end just past her elbows, and the coat itself would-- Chachanji Gegenji: --probably come down about her waist. Like he said: it's be like a shirt for her. Chachanji Gegenji || Should she take it, though, she'd note it was actually rather heavy. As if the jacket were sopping wet and pulled down with water weight. It would be hard to tell how many ponze of extra weight it actually had, but might make her wonder how he moves around so freely wearing it. Like some manner of secret, constant heavy armor training!

Jancis Milburga nods, "Yes. It is made of parts of wands. So not able to build as much energy at once, but enough to close wounds or defend myself up within touch." She murmurs, making a small orb of water in her palm then floats it away, showing the limited range as they get a mist of evaporating water showering down on them. She sets down her robe and reaches to take the yukata.

Chachanji Gegenji watches it with that selfsame awe as when she mentioned she could use the wraps to cast the spells. Having a demonstration just confirming how impressive it was to him. "Tha's really impressive, 'n sounds really handy."

Jancis Milburga smiles humbly, unaware of the color on her face. "You are kind to say so." She shifts, failing to heft the yukata first and clearly not ready for the actual weight of it. Still she brings it up to hold against her own shoulders in front and looks at it. Taking it over her tunic, she slides it on, needing some extra lift on the shoulders before getting his yukata on properly. Then she lifts her arms up, spanning out the sleeves. "Thaliak only knows how you move so well in this." Jancis Milburga: "You move as if wearing air. Forgive me, dear Chachanji, this is quite heavy. I would be able to wear this and carry nothing more."

Chachanji Gegenji: "A-ah, well, like I said... could def'nitely go wit somethin' lighter," he explained. "Tha's... um... jus' what I wear. More protection but, a'course, heavier. Ya... kinda get used to it. Honestly, feels weird when I dun have th' lined clothin' on these days." An awkward chuckle. "B-but anyroad, th' idea is ya'd hafta deal wit a bit more weight like tha' - but not nearly as much, a'course. And ya can still move yer hands 'n feet freely."

Jancis Milburga doesn't make a move to take it off, still giving the yellow fabric a thoughtful look on herself. "I see. I can imagine. It is surprising comforting to wear. Like a heavy blanket." She nods, focusing back on his words. "I worried you with a wound to mine torso. Perhaps not the arms, then? Or specifiic areas that are more vulnerable?"

Chachanji Gegenji nods. "Tha' can be done too!" he confirms with a smile. "Dun hafta line th' whole thin'. Could keep th' arms chain-free. Or even jus' th' torso so th' length'a robe below th' waist dun weigh ya down 'r trip ya up... like havin' a lil' chain shirt on at th' same time as th' robe."

Jancis Milburga finally takes off his yukata carefully, handing it back. Her robe has been mended and cleaned since the battle. Stitchwork shows the repairs, but within is a steady thick layer of padding that adds its own weight. Her wound would have been severely worse if not for the padding taking the brunt of the blow as she holds it up and open for inspection. "I also do not know what materials you want to use or what I should acquire." Jancis Milburga: "It comes through, what you mean by asking to do this for me, Chachanji. Much as I do not mean to worry anyone, I understand. It means a lot that you want to protect me."

Chachanji Gegenji: "Hm. Well, we'd want somethin' lightweight but decently strong..." he murmurs thoughtfully. "Titanium is th' material tha' jumps out at me first 'n foremost... buuuut..." He cants his head. "It's a bit pricier 'n not quite as protective but... somethin' like Mythril 'r - better - Mythrite could both protect ya 'n also mebbe help also boost yer magicks? Mythril 'n th' like are like th' softer metals tha' Goldsmiths user fer wands 'n stuff, after all." Chachanji Gegenji finally seems to realize she's still holding out the top of his yukata to him and takes it with a bashful smile and quick-and-quiet apology before putting it back on. Slipping it on as if it were as air, as she had alluded to earlier. And perhaps looking a bit more comfortable again with the familiar weight of it.

Jancis Milburga blinks with clear interest at his words. Somehow more than usual, "Would it be useful to you to work in soft metals as well? Like practice?" Jancis Milburga: "That does sound more ideal if it is something I can perhaps use my robe for, aiding in easing my own wounds, or even spreading over someone. A multiple use tool!"

Chachanji Gegenji: "Well, th' soft metals 'r def'nitely somethin' I dun work wit as much... 's more goldsmith territory 'n tha's th' part'a smithin' I always had a bit'a trouble wit," he admits, scratching at his floof. "Mythril 'n mythrite are light metals, but they ain't soft... so I can work wit them better'n tryin' ta makin somethin' outta silver 'r gold 'r somethin'. And since it's more like normal metals, it'll give better protection than th' soft metals would." A pause. "Though, I -could- fold in a thin-- Chachanji Gegenji: layer'a soft metal. Would make it a lil' less defensively sound but could also boost yer protection from bad magics. Th' Garleans gild some of their stuff wit gold to magic-proof it, y'know." Chachanji Gegenji: "I wouldn't go tha' heavy, though. Too much 'n it act'lly blocks magic use - which is why th' Garleans use it. No magic ta block so they can lay it on thick."

Jancis Milburga repeats 'light but not soft' and takes in the smith's words, her own look of awe at learning just a hint of what experience had given him to say. "Of course. I have seen other engineers keep it on hand for the magitek equipment that has been salvaged. Dare say having resistance to magic would be equally useful to me. Not so much less defensive as spreading out the capability? A lesser hit is better than full on for me. The wound I received that caused you concern was different." Jancis Milburga: "I was not in melee. Tiergan's mind got compromised by the beast we were fending off and it forced his sword to swing at me."

Chachanji Gegenji: "Mr. Tiergan?" His eyes go wide. The name was familiar, but it had been quite some time since he had encountered the white-haired Miqo'te in question. Still... "Oh man... hope he's akay too..." And there's a worried little frown. "A-anyroad. Given th' circumstances, 'm thinkin' a light layer'a mythrite chain around the torso in th' robe might work best fer ya. Decent protection, a bit'a aether protection, 'n might help bolster yer own aether a lil' when ya cast yer magicks." Chachanji Gegenji: "'n, a'course, if'n it ends up bein' too heavy 'r dampenin' yer magic more than helpin' it... can always take it back out."

Jancis Milburga lowers the robe, looking saddened, "He is well, but was very tough on himself after it happened. He made me a cake when I recovered. It was lovely. Vanilla and chocolate with fruit decorating the top." She nods and echoes his plan of action for her robe. Jancis Milburga: "Would you like me to leave this robe with you in the meantime while I gather supplies or take it with me for now?"

Chachanji Gegenji: "I prolly woulda been pretty upset if'n I had done th' same thin'," he admits. "Well, mebbe not th' cake part. Ya know 'm still not tha' good at cookin' yet." An awkward chuckle. "But... um... y'know what I mean." He scratches at his cheek, taking her segue back to the robe as an out rather willingly. "Oh, ah. Well, I can keep it here if'n ya'd like so ya have less ta carry 'round when ya have th' supplies. But if'n ya still might wanna wear it in th' meantime, ya can take it wit ya too." Chachanji Gegenji: "Would likely jus' be kept in me changin' room until ya got back. Oh! I have a proper changin' room now!" Chachanji Gegenji points off to where that curtained off area had been they had walked past on the way to the kitchen.

Jancis Milburga asks, "Changing room?" Just as he answers and she looks over. "If it will not be useful to you here, I will take it with me." Jancis Milburga peeks in. "This room is only for changing?"

Chachanji Gegenji: "Changin', gettin' measurements if'n needed..." He pauses. "Ah! Tha' might be somethin' I'd need th' robe fer. I dun thin' I've gotten yer measurements at any point..."

Jancis Milburga: "I did not think of that. We can do that whenever you wish." Jancis Milburga finds a place to set her robe. The stool. Best spot. Jancis Milburga opens the curtain and nearly walks into Chachanji, shuffling to a stop. "What must I do?"

Chachanji Gegenji: "Ah, well, we can do tha', sure," he agrees. "Tha's us'lly what we need if'n I'm makin' a full piece from scratch. But since I'll be linin' th' robe, it's not as important... though havin' th' measurements can make sure it all sits right 'n I can make some minor adjustments ta th' robe as well in th' process so it all hinders yer movement as lil' as possible."

Jancis Milburga smiles. "Thank you. Being made just for me. I am not sure how to express how happy I feel." She heads back into the changing room, leaving the curtain open. "This is almost like someone getting measured for a dress like in a book."

Chachanji Gegenji: "Which... given yer need ta move 'round fer spells 'n fer helpin' th' wounded... 's prolly a good idea," he admits quietly, rubbing at his chin. Before realizing Jancis has already gone back in to get said measurements. "Ah, w-well, 's fer th' same sorta purpose, right?" he admits as he follows and goes to grab his tape measure and something to write the numbers down on. "Needs ta make sure ev'rythin' fits right. Whether fer lookin' pretty or fer makin' sure yer armor protects ya properly 'n-- Chachanji Gegenji: --doesn't get in th' way!" Chachanji Gegenji: "Anyroad, le's get you all measured up 'n we'll be good ta go!"

Jancis Milburga smiles at you.

#ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv rp #rp logs #jancis #chachanji

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floatingpetals · 6 years

Text

One Last Call

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Angst, no seriously lots of angst, blood, character death

Word Count: 1700+

Summary: A mission had gone horribly wrong. She knew things were grim, and she had something she desperately needed to get off her chest. All she needed was one last call

A/N: This is based off a screenshot that was from Tumblr but I saw on facebook. No the screenshot didn’t have a username, so I have no clue had this idea but it was a writing prompt and it brought on this sad idea. I don’t want to give too much more away because then it would ruin the story. Anyways... yeah it’s dark and depressing. I don’t know why I do this either. I hope you still enjoy! *I used google translate at the end so if it’s wrong, blame it on google*

Gifs not mine, credit to the creator!

Y/N chuckled faintly, wincing at the searing pain that shot through her side. She drew the hand that clutched her side to her face, soaked in her blood. Well shit. She sighed and let her hand fall back to the wound. That’s not what you want.

This wasn’t a hard mission, at least that’s what she was told. It was just a simple solo recon mission. Something went wrong down along the line of information. These drug dealers weren’t the smartest they’ve come across. Someone had to have leaked information, which meant they had a mole in their ranks and Y/N dreaded hearing that investigation. Y/N didn’t think the drug dealers she was casing would have been tipped off, but when they caught sight of her tailing one of their drug mules, they chased her down guns firing away.

Fortunately, she was able to escape. Unfortunately, it wasn’t without injury. A stray bullet hit her side and lodge inside her. She only had time to duck behind a storage shed, biting her lip to keep quiet as her attackers ran past, screaming and shouting as they went. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe until she knew it was clear. However, when she supposed she was in clear; she didn’t have the energy to move. Laying there in her own pool of blood tucked away behind a shed somewhere in the middle of Ukraine, Y/N realized things weren’t going to work out like she thought.

She leaned back against the back of the shed, staring up at the cloudy sky above her. It looks like it might rain, Y/N thought serenely. A chill was starting to seep in her bones, her eyes growing heavy. Y/N let out a sigh and dug through her pockets. Her fingers struggled to grip her phone, trembling as she pressed her thumb against the screen to unlock it. Opening her phone app, Y/N hit the last name she dialed.

‘Calling ‘Steve Rogers’

Cradling, the phone between her ear and shoulder, Y/N bit her lip and clutched her side as she waited. The call hadn’t rung twice before she heard the soft timber she had fallen in love with. Back in the States, Steve was sitting in the common room watching one of the shows Y/N recommended when his phone lit up on the coffee table. He frowned and scooped it up in his hand.

“Y/N?” He answered, confused and anxious. She never called on a mission before unless something was wrong.

“Hey, Stevie.” Y/N said cheerily, swallowing her pain.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you supposed to be doing recon right now?”

“Yeah, but I got bored.” Y/N sighed. “I just wanted to call and talk for a little bit.”

“Okay,” Steve said slowly. He glanced over to where Tony was in the kitchen, catching his eye. Tony frowned and sat up at the jerking Steve did to the tablet on the table. “What did you want to talk about?”

Y/N was silent for a moment, her thoughts fuzzy as she struggled to keep it together. Blinking rapidly, Y/N bit back a hiss as she sat up.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, got distracted.” She murmured. “Do you remember when Sam switched the sugar with salt?”

“Yeah,” Steve snorted. Of course, he remembered that. He ended up spewing the drink all over the counter after taking a giant gulp. “He meant for Bucky to use it but I ended up being the one who found it when I added it to my coffee.”

“And how now you only drink your coffee black because of it.” Y/N giggled. Her heart flipped in her chest when she heard Steve’s echoing laughter. It was always one of her favorite sounds, and she didn’t hear enough of it. He was always so reserved, he hardly ever let his guard down enough to laugh. To hear it right in what she assumed could be her last minutes on earth was something she’d never forget.

“I always taste the sugar before I use any,” Steve sighed. Motioning for Tony to pull up a tablet, he leaned back against the seat. Tony had already caught on and was pulling up her location on the tablet. “I know you’re not calling me because you're bored. What happened Y/N?”

“Nothin’. I just wanted to hear your voice.” Y/N said softly, her voice growing weaker. Steve frowned.

“Y/N?”

“Have I ever told you I liked your voice?” She went on. “It’s always been soothing for me, even when you’re in all ‘Angry-Captain-Mode’.”

“Angry-Captain-Mode?” Steve chuckled, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “When have I done that?”

“Oh please.” Y/N giggled. Tony even raised a brow at Steve, rolling his eyes before turning back to the tablet. “You do it whenever someone does something stupid. Like last week it was with the new kid that didn’t make sure the range was clear before he began shooting.”

“Well, that’s because he was an idiot. He could have killed someone.” Steve grumbled, his voice growing angrier at the recollection. “He deserved to get yelled at and to be demoted.”

“You’re not wrong. But I still liked your voice. No matter what your mood is” Y/N sucked in a shuddering breath. She clutched her side, the blood still seeping from her wounds. She eyed the growing pool below her, surprised at how much lost and the mere fact she was still conscious. But the edges of around her eyesight begun to fade, she knew her time was limited. Slowly, she came back to him shouting her name.

“Y/N? Y/N? Y/N!” Steve repeated, and icy fear slipping into his veins. He could hear a gurgle over the line, her breathing growing shallow as she started to fad. He knew that sound. No, he thought, there’s no way. His heart began to beat in his chest, panic watching over him. “Hey, I need you to stay with me.”

Y/N coughed through her laugh, smiling at how sweet he was, despite figuring out she was lying. Of course, he’d figure it out. He’s not stupid.

“You’re right about that. I’m not.” Steve replied shortly. Y/N blinked.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, doll you did. What happened? I need you to stay awake.” Steve pleaded. Tony shot up from the table, Y/N’s cell location pinging on his tablet. He set out an alert to the rest of the team, already in motion to get on a jet and find her. Steve took off after, not even caring he didn’t have on any shoes. “Tell me what happened.”

“You know when they tell you, you see your life flash before your eyes? Well, they never tell you how hard it is to watch everything over again.” Y/N whispered. “I’ve done a lot of stupid things.”

“No, you haven’t, but if you don’t tell me what’s happened you might just get one added to the list.” Steve reprimanded, climbing into the jet. He tried to ignore the mounting panic and buckled in, barely sparing the others a second glance. All that matter was keeping Y/N awake.

Y/N hummed, her body growing heavy. She struggled to keep her eyes open, a tiny sliver of determination keeping her alert.

“Nah. That’s not what’s I’m talkin’ ‘bout.” She slurred. “I never told you the truth.”

“Truth? What truth?” Steve pressed, desperate to keep her talking. A lump formed in his throat, tears building in his eyes. He wasn’t going to lose her. He realized now how much time he spent wasting hiding his feelings. He couldn’t lose another woman he loved.

Tony had already set up the coordinates and took off in the air before he turned in his seat to Steve.

“I’ve contacted the Ukraine police. They have her location. We won’t get to her in time, but hopefully, they can.”

Steve nodded, though it did little soothe his fears and clenched his free hand into a fist on his lap.

“Why’s it so cold, Stevie?” Y/N whimpered. Her wound finally stopped bleeding, but she knew she lost too much blood. It was getting hard to keep her head up. There wasn’t much time left. “I wish I was back on in media room, curled up next you. You’re always so warm. I miss that.”

“Y/N” Steve croaked. The way his voice broke caused all the heads to snap up in the jet, everyone sensing things were already gone too far downhill. “Baby, please. Don’t do this. You’re going to be okay. Is there any way you can get to a hospital?”

“I-I can’t.” Y/N whispered. “Steve, before I go, I want you to know somethin’.”

“No- Y/N, don’t say that-.”

“I love you. Always have.”

Steve inhaled sharply, tightly clenching his eyes shut. Through the agony Steve bit the inside of his cheek, fighting back the tears and nodded.

“I love you too. Please, you’re not goin’ anywhere.”

“Keep kicking ass, Stevie.” Y/N uttered. “I’m sorry I suck at timing.”

“No, no you don’t,” Steve shook his head. In the distance of the call, he could hear the faint sounds of sirens. He just needed to keep her talking, just for a bit longer. “I should have said it sooner. I was scared I’d lose you if I did, but this is worse. We’re gonna talk more about this. You’re going to be okay, just stay with me. Just until the medics can help you. They’re on their way.”

“Don’t worry Cap. I’ll love you always.”

The air was knocked from his lungs when he heard the phone slip from her hand, clattering to the ground. He shoved his fingers through his hair, the tears streaming down his face now. He didn’t, couldn’t, hold back the sobs that wracked through his chest, hearing her gurgle one last time before she grew silent. The sirens grew in crescendo, blaring in his ears at the local police came around and found where Y/N lay. He couldn’t understand a word they spoke, but he knew the sound in their tones. It’s a defeated tone he knew all too well.

There was static, the phone being picked up and a man’s voice came on the other end of the line.

“Здрастуйте? Хто це?”

“Do you speak English?” Steve croaked.

“так. Yes, I do.” The man with the thick accent on the other end replied gruffly. “Do you know who she is?”

“Yes, she’s an agent with the Avengers. We’re the ones who sent in her location. Is she alive? How bad is she?”

There was a heavy silence on the other end, the sound of medics shouting over the sirens. He could hear them giving orders, could tell it was frantic and commanding. He had no clue if she was alive or not. He desperately prayed she was still breathing. The rest of the team waited with bated breath, still hours away from Y/N’s last location. There had to be a chance.

“Мені шкода… I’m so sorry.”

The phone slipped from his fingers, the screen shattering against the floor of the jet much like Steve’s life before his eyes.

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bevioletskies · 6 years

Text

across the universe [1/8]

summary: Peter, the son of the Chancellor, has lived among the stars for the first ten years of his life. Gamora, the future Commander of Terra, has lived on the ground for the first ten years of hers. Though it’s finally time for the last survivors of the so-called apocalypse to return to Earth, they might not be prepared for what’s waiting for them. But when Peter and Gamora meet and find their worlds irreversibly tangled together, titles, obligations, and the impending war may be the very last thing on their minds.

a/n: The premise of this fic is very loosely based off of The 100, the television show more so than the book series. However, no previous knowledge is required, as I only used the basic concept and language, and none of the storylines or characters arcs from the show.

Fic title is from the song Across The Universe by The Beatles. Prologue can be found here. Warning for unnamed character deaths, injuries, blood, dry heaving, and Ego and Thanos being assholes to their kids.

word count: 10.2k | ao3 | tag

“Tell us more about Earth.”

Meredith turned to look at her children, who were seated beside her. They were properly strapped into their seats - she’d checked and double-checked and triple-checked that they were perfect, as she was oft to do with just about everything; what kind of doctor would she be if she wasn’t meticulous? - and gripping their seatbelts so tight, their knuckles were turning white. She was trying not to let them see the way her hands shook, too.

“What do we say, baby?” Meredith reminded him.

“Please?” He smiled angelically.

“I’ll admit, it’s not the most advanced of planets,” Meredith said, sitting back to think. “It’s diverse, though, where all walks of life can live together - or at least, try to. I lived in a place called St. Charles, Missouri, with my mama and daddy. They took me to church every Sunday at St. Peter’s when I was a little girl. My daddy would put on the news after we got home, and I liked to see what was goin’ on out there, outside our little house with a big yard. Wasn’t always so nice, but sometimes, you got to see the real good in humans. Or Terrans, as your daddy likes to call us.”

“Then Earth got destroyed by the bad air,” Peter added. “And that’s when Dad came to save everyone, an’ promised to help restore it with his powers so they could have their planet back.”

“Would you like to tell the story now, Peter?” Meredith teased.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

“Anyways, I remember when I first woke up from cryo-sleep, one of the first things I saw was your daddy, standin’ by my side.” Meredith smiled, reminiscing of a time not too long ago. “I asked him what he wanted. He said, ‘I visited your Earth once before. While I was there, I saw some of the most beautiful sights I’d ever seen, and I’ve been across the universe’. I thought it was a little strange since we’d never spoken before, so I asked him what he meant. He described these flowers, these blooming, vibrant little red beauties, and I said, ‘you must be talkin’ about the river lily’. He laughed and told me I was just like a river lily - the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.”

“I like that story, Mama,” Mantis chirped, leaning around Peter to look at her. “It does not sound like Daddy, though.”

“No, he’s...not much like that nowadays, is he?” Meredith let out a false laugh that made Peter’s brows knit together, though he wisely decided not to comment on it. “Sit tight now. They’ve got officers coming ‘round to make sure we’re ready for departure.”

“We’re already here, ma’am,” a raspy voice said above them, causing the three of them to jump, startled by its sudden arrival.

“Kraglin? You’re not an officer yet,” Peter said accusingly.

“No, but cap’n got all his recruits on duty since there’s so many dang people to account for,” Kraglin grumbled, pulling out his holotab. “Can I get your names?”

“...you know our names, Kraglin,” Peter said, squinting at him dubiously. “And is Yondu here? I was hopin’ he could sit with us.”

“Cap’n’s sitting with the Chancellor and the Council, along with all them other important folk,” Kraglin shrugged. “Names, please.”

Frustrated, Peter sat back in his seat with his arms crossed. Meredith patted him half-consolingly, half-reminding him to control his temper, then began to neatly recite their full names for Kraglin’s records. After he left, she turned to Peter. “You know the rules, baby. Families sit together, and Yondu’s a good man and a good friend, but he’s not family.”

“Then why do I see him more than Dad?” Peter shot back.

“Peter!” Meredith exclaimed. “You know, I’ve just about had it with you sayin’ things like that like they don’t hurt. When we get to Earth, you’re...you’re grounded.” She paused, then, realizing the absurdity of her statement, let out a laugh that even caught herself off guard. Peter turned to look at Mantis, wondering if their mother had finally lost it after being cooped up in space for fifteen years as she continued to laugh like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard in her life.

Gamora woke to her usual morning soundtrack of clanging metal and warrior cries, the smell of oil and sweat permeating every fabric and every surface in every room on Sanctuary. Though she lived on the top floor, thanks in no small part to her status, there always seemed to be something going on in Thanos’s private quarters nearby. He trained constantly, and was never without his most loyal (and frankly, his most morally-corrupt) generals and advisors at his side, consulting on everything from war tactics to technology to governance.

She slipped out of bed, got dressed, and quietly made her way into the kitchen, another room accessible only by Thanos and his “children”, frowning at the sight of an excessive amount of rations that could...well, that could feed their whole army. Through the kitchen’s backdoor was a storage warehouse with rows upon rows of cured meats, a huge indoor vegetable garden (there were shutters covering an opening in Sanctuary’s vast ceiling that cast just the right amount of sunlight over it), and a whole wall of ice boxes that contained seeds and medicine that would last them for centuries. All of this, and she was allowed to speak about none of it to no one.

Gamora never understood why Thanos chose to form a settlement on Terra, of all places. She knew vaguely of its history, its tragedy, its rebirth, but it never stood out to her as particularly desirable compared to all the other places Thanos must have conquered in the past. She wasn’t oblivious to Thanos’s history, however - in fact, he’d told her outright that he had failed to save many planets from their untimely deaths, including hers and Nebula’s, and it meant he had to do a lot of unsavory things in the process. She knew there was a lot more to him than what he claimed to be, and she knew that she didn’t have to be a grown adult to understand that he was no savior. She also knew there was a lot she was still yet to know.

“Gamora.” She turned to see Nebula standing in the doorway, looking unusually tired. “Father has called for both of us.”

“It’s too early for a meeting, isn’t it? I thought people were still healing from last night’s attack,” Gamora commented, but she followed her sister regardless.

A few winding, eerily empty corridors later, the two of them walked up to the door to his war room, recoiling at the unwelcome sight of Proxima and Cull standing guard. “Children,” Proxima said snidely, barely sparing them a glance. Cull grunted.

“Adults,” Nebula snarked back. “Father wants to see us.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Proxima sniffed.

Nebula reeled back, ready to make another retort, but Gamora instead laid a hand on her shoulder, shaking her head in silence. It would do her no good to taunt their older “siblings”, not when they had the ability to kill them in seconds. Gamora smiled tightly at Proxima. “How is Corvus?”

Proxima’s jaw slowly unclenched. “Recovering.” She stepped aside. “Go on.”

They entered the room after receiving one last scowl, courtesy of Cull, and were granted the sight of Thanos stood by his various holoscreens, his back turned to them, Maw at his side. “Daughters,” he said curtly, still fixated on one particular battle plan that was blown up across six adjacent screens. “It’s time.”

“Time for what?” Nebula grouched.

Thanos turned, narrowing his eyes in her direction. “Watch your tone, Nebula,” he hissed. “It is time for the Sky People to descend to the ground. As of two hours ago, I’ve received reports from our scouts near Trishanakru that a vessel far larger than Sanctuary has broken through the atmosphere. I suspect we’ll be feeling their impact at any moment.”

“What do we do?” Gamora asked.

“We’ve already initiated a lockdown of all essential areas, and have made the call for all families to retreat to Sanctuary and stay in their quarters. And, of course, the army has already been sent out in pursuit of the invaders.” Thanos’s lip curled in an oddly contemplative snarl. “As for you two...I need children to act as my scouts.”

“And...why is that, Father?” Gamora said carefully.

“It won’t be all children, of course, just you and the other contenders. Your rivals, Gamora,” Thanos hummed, turning back around. Maw let out a delighted tittering noise that made both sisters want to punch him square in the jaw even more than usual. “The army has been ordered to kill groups on sight. But the children are to find isolated stragglers and bring them to me.”

Gamora swallowed. “Okay. When do we leave?”

“Now. And pack some rations,” Thanos said, fully directing his attention back to the screens, sweeping through page after page of his battle plans, arranging and rearranging as he saw fit. “Do not return until you have something of interest.”

Peter didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he was waking up, only he hadn’t exactly fallen asleep, he had been knocked out cold. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes, blinking blearily into the darkness. It wasn’t exactly dark, either; there was a bright red light flashing over and over again like a silent siren. Before he could discern what was happening, though, he felt something run into his eyes; Peter yelped in surprise and began wiping it out with the heels of his palms. Whatever it was, it was sticky and slightly warm to the touch.

He stumbled to his feet, trying to recall where he’d been last and when that had been, squinting at his pitch-black surroundings. We were headin’ to Earth, Peter thought, his scattered brain still buzzing with adrenaline, made even more disoriented by the flashing lights. Then some crazy stuff started happening when we broke through the atmosphere, and people were freaking out - Mantis! Mom! He looked down at his feet, where he could vaguely make out the silhouettes of Mantis sprawled out on top of Meredith, almost like she’d been thrown there. It was then that he realized the whole ship had crash-landed sideways; their seats were completely tipped in the other direction, the walls crushed against the ground.

Peter knelt beside them, shaking their shoulders urgently. “Mom! Mantis! C’mon, you gotta wake up!” He felt a knot of anxiety tying itself up in his stomach the longer they didn’t respond. “I think we’re on Earth, I don’t know why I don’t see no one else, I - Mom, I’m scared, I don’t wanna, I need, I - ”

“Quill?”

He let out a sob of relief, running in the direction of the familiar voice and flinging his arms around his waist. “Yondu!”

“Good to see you’re in one piece, though you’re bleedin’ a bit,” Yondu said gruffly, patting him awkwardly on the back. He drew a dusty rag from his utility belt and wiped Peter’s forehead; he belatedly became dizzy at the realization of what the sticky substance was. “Your mom and sister?”

“They ain’t getting up,” Peter said, tugging on Yondu’s sleeve to pull him back towards them. “What happened, Yondu, what’s goin’ on?”

“Well, to make a long story short - we crashed. Real bad,” Yondu sighed, lifting his flashlight a little higher, casting it over Meredith and Mantis’s faces. “Whole sections of the ship, they didn’t make it. Others, like you, were lucky. Relatively, o’ course. Been spending the last hour tryin’ to find survivors. Your mama and sister, I see their shoulders movin’, they’re breathin’, they’re okay. We’re gonna need Meredith and her team to help with some pretty nasty wounds - if she’s up to it, o’ course.”

“What about Dad?” Peter looked at him expectantly. “He said he was gonna come find us before we landed, and I thought he was gonna get us to sit with him on the command bridge.” He hung his head. “That was a lie, wasn’t it?”

“Dunno what to tell you, boy,” Yondu said, his discomfort rapidly growing. “But let’s get you and your family outta here. Don’t need you seeing all this mess.” He gestured aimlessly at the other unmoving bodies. Peter didn’t want to think about which ones were never going to move again, or he was sure to throw up.

A few of Yondu’s guardsmen came in to help carry out the survivors, while Peter sat impatiently on a cot in one of the makeshift medical tents that the nurses had set up just outside. He tried not to look at the smoldering remains of the Ark, how crumpled and despondent some sections looked, while other parts looked relatively salvageable. Peter certainly couldn’t appreciate his first breath of fresh air, either, or the feeling of wind in his hair, or the beautiful lake on the other side of the tent. It all felt sour, it felt undeserved, it felt wrong.

“You doing okay, Peter?” the nurse asked kindly. “I took a look at your mom and your sister, they’re gonna be just fine. Good chance of a mild concussion, and Meredith’s got a bit of a dislocated shoulder, but nothing some rest and medicine won’t fix.”

“I’m not okay,” Peter mumbled. “People are dead.”

His face fell. “I know. But we can’t think about that right now, alright? We have to help the living.”

Another ten minutes passed before the tent flapped open, but instead of the faces that Peter wanted to see more than anything else in their new world, he saw the cape first instead of its wearer. “Peter! Son, are you okay?”

“Everyone keeps askin’ me that,” Peter grouched, turning the other way. “What am I s’posed to say when people are dead, Dad?!”

“Whoa, now! Watch your tone,” Ego snapped, his face instantly contorting into something more cruel. He stormed over to Peter and grabbed his face, pinching his chin with one hand until Peter’s cheeks ached from the pressure. “What do you say, Peter?” The nurse let out a quiet gasp of surprise and promptly ran out of the tent.

“Sorry,” Peter said, his voice still hardened. Ego released him, though he didn’t look satisfied. Before he could respond, though, the tent opened yet again, and Meredith stormed in like a hurricane, still wrapped in a shock blanket. She whipped it off and promptly flung it at Ego, though it barely grazed his shoulder on its way down.

“Meredith!” Ego exclaimed, chuckling like she merely amused him.

She let out a feral growl in return. “I oughta give you a piece of my mind right now,” Meredith hissed. “You had no business bringin’ us down here when there was even a chance of death!”

“There’s always a chance of death, sweetheart, that’s how life works,” Ego said, waving his hand dismissively. “You think I didn’t calculate every single possibility, figure out every possible thing that could go wrong? You really think that little of me, Meredith?”

“Don’t make this about what I think of you, though I have plenty more thoughts I’d like to share,” Meredith snapped, picking up her blanket and wrapping it back around her body, shivering, though not from the blustery cold. “You got an estimate on how many people we’ve lost today? Or are you too busy going ‘round, pretendin’ everything’s just peachy?”

“Mom,” Peter interrupted. “Where’s Mantis?”

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry. Here I am ramblin’, and I haven’t even checked up on you yet.” Meredith went to Peter’s side, gently prodding along his skull and ribcage even though he’d already been checked a half-dozen times by her best nurses. She then held his face in both hands, cupping his cheeks, and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Mantis is getting cleaned up a few tents down, she knows to come straight here after she’s done. Peter...are you gonna be okay?”

Peter choked out an insincere laugh. “I think so.”

Ego cleared his throat loudly from behind them. “I have to speak with the Council about setting up base here. Think we landed in a mighty good spot - lots of trees and water. It’ll be great support for the manufacturing stations.”

“Don’t you pretend you did a good thing here, Ego,” Meredith said, her voice scarily low. “And don’t you pretend our conversation is done, either. I’ve got plenty more to say.”

“I can tell,” Ego said blithely, turning and walking right out, his expression decidedly neutral. Meredith seethed at his retreating back, wrapping her arms around Peter even tighter.

“People are dead, Mom,” Peter mumbled into her shoulder; he was starting to sound like a broken record.

“We’ll do right by ‘em, baby,” Meredith promised, rubbing his back reassuringly. “Once we clean up the mess your daddy made, we’ll have a celebration of life, right out there on the lake. Did you see it?”

“Yeah.” He sank into her, drowning himself in her warmth, the smell of her perfume and shampoo, unable to hold up his own bodyweight for even one more second. “Yeah, it was nice.”

“Good morning, heda.” Gamora turned to see a rather snide-looking group of children around her age with a few that seemed significantly older, standing behind her, arms folded tightly across their chests. The first thing she noticed, aside from their unfriendly faces, was the weapons slung on their backs or holstered at their hips. “I hear we are following your greatness today.”

“Hey! I was the one who saved your parents’ lives yesterday,” Gamora snapped.

“Forgive us for not bowing at your feet,” another child sneered, one of the older ones, one who seemed far too old to be looking at Gamora with such unwarranted scorn. “Anyone with half a brain would have done the same.”

Gamora glanced over at Nebula, who merely shrugged; she was barely paying attention to their conversation. Unfortunately, it was like most conversations between them and other children, whether during classes or training sessions or unwanted encounters in the halls, and it hardly elicited a reaction out of Nebula anymore. Simply put, there was nothing that would convince the others that Gamora was worthy of what she’d been given.

“We’re losing light,” Gamora said coldly, turning back to look at the others. “We have our orders and our gear. Meet back here at sunset.” She then called for everyone to form small groups, and unsurprisingly, the majority immediately moved away from the girls so they could cluster up together, then took off in different directions the second they were ready, not bothering to announce their departure. Only one child was left standing, one that Gamora had seen many times before, one who never quite seemed to find his footing with the others. “Join us, Drax.”

“Are you sure, heda?” he asked, stepping forward regardless. “I would not want to slow you down.”

“You won’t. We won’t let you,” Gamora said, smiling faintly. “I’ve seen you train...you’re really good. I think your parents would be proud.” Drax’s face crumpled a little at the mention of them, but he quickly recovered, nodding and falling into step beside the sisters.

The three of them ventured across a seemingly endless field of lush grass, far away from everyone else, who had gone for the trees. They knew it left them open, vulnerable to attack, but Gamora told herself she couldn’t afford to be scared. She told herself that Thanos didn’t want to see her until they brought back a hostage. She told herself not to think about what would happen if she didn’t.

Of course, she hated the idea, but she was never going to tell him that. She had always been curious about the legendary skaikru, the people who were saved by a mysterious force right before their planet fell apart. They weren’t even considered Terran anymore, given that they’d been away from Earth for a hundred years, with children who had never breathed fresh air or tasted water that wasn’t artificially created. Meanwhile, the forest, the ocean, the wind and snow, it was all she’d ever known, but Gamora knew she wasn’t truly Terran, either. The idea of designating the Sky People as some “other” who were to be immediately tortured or killed for returning to what had been theirs disgusted her, but she knew no amount of reasoning would change Thanos’s bloodlust. His ongoing war with other factions that had split off from them when they first arrived was proof enough.

“I hear the river, heda,” Drax called; he was a good thirty feet in front of them, gesturing for them to catch up.

“Call me Gamora,” she insisted, her and Nebula jogging up beside him. “If skaikru were smart, they wouldn’t be out here. They would hide in the trees.”

“Then why did we not go to the trees?” Drax asked curiously.

“Because Gamora doesn’t want to be around the others,” Nebula interjected, smirking.

“Because we are looking for stragglers, not the entire group. If they ran or got kicked out, they would be far away from their camp,” Gamora reasoned, elbowing her sister in warning. Nebula’s face fell a little; it was hard to argue with that. “Do you see mud trails?”

“Why?” Nebula grumbled. “There’s mud everywhere.”

“It means someone walked across the river, and we could follow it to see where they went,” Drax volunteered. “The skaikru don’t know how to cover their tracks like we do.”

“Right,” Gamora nodded, pleased. “Let’s go.”

She and Drax immediately started walking again, while Nebula trailed behind sullenly, folding her arms across her chest. As they continued on, their eyes trained on the ground and the sky, Gamora couldn’t help but watch Drax, too. She didn’t know his story, aside from his parents being long dead, but he seemed like the type who could handle a fight. The other children didn’t like him much, but she occasionally saw him spending time in the Sanctuary’s hangar bay with two young engineering prodigies who worked under one of Thanos’s generals, Rocket and Groot. She wasn’t sure how their companionship had started, but she’d never been curious enough to ask. She was almost curious enough to ask now.

“Heda?” His voice broke into her thoughts.

“I said not to call me that,” she countered.

“Mud, like you said,” he said simply, pointing. Gamora followed his line of sight and jogged over, crouching down by the tracks. She wasn’t skilled enough to place any identifiers - height, weight, age - but at least it would keep them from wandering aimlessly forever.

Gamora straightened up, sucking in an unsteady breath. “Follow me.”

The mood at Arkadia was appropriately somber, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. Ego had made his usual rousing speech, swearing not to give up, to not let the “sacrifices” (and oh, how Peter and Meredith hated that word, like their deaths had been planned somehow) of the dead be in vain. It didn’t have the effect he wanted, much to Meredith’s secret satisfaction, and there were already whispers among their people that a new Chancellor was to be called for on the ground.

The ship, Ego’s beloved ship, was still a smoking husk of what it was just hours ago, and no one wanted to be reminded of the smell of death, so more tents were set up in a temporary formation, grouped less by station and affiliation, and more by relationships, families and friends who used to go weeks without seeing each other, who were now able to cross boundaries and set their own. Peter and Mantis went to take a nap in their tent after Ego’s speech, exhausted by the day’s events and their father’s empty promises.

“Are you awake, Peter?” Mantis mumbled, lifting herself up onto her elbows. Peter groaned and rolled onto his back. “Are you okay?”

“You tell me,” he snapped, though Mantis didn’t seem offended by his tone. “Everyone keeps askin’ me that like I’m s’posed to be okay with people being dead. People who didn’t do nothing.”

“There are always people who die who did not do anything.” Mantis turned away from him, unable to look Peter in the eye. “My real mama. For having me.”

Peter sighed, the fight leaving his body as he exhaled. “I wish Mom would tell us what happened, so I know what to be mad at Dad for.”

“You are always mad at him, though,” Mantis said blithely. “You are mad when he is here, and when he is not.”

“Yeah, what’s your point?”

“I think it hurts you more than it hurts him,” Mantis observed. “Maybe you should talk.”

“Yeah, right,” Peter scoffed, also rolling over so he was facing away from her, leaving them back-to-back. He curled further into his scratchy blankets and flat pillow, sorely missing his cold, unfriendly bunk back in their little apartment. It was hard for him to process that he would never sleep there again, considering he was almost certain he was going to live his entire life on the Ark, wasting his days and nights dreaming about Earth the way it was never going to be.

“I am telling you what you feel,” Mantis said, scrunching up her nose in anger at him, though he obviously couldn’t see her face. She got to her feet, staring down at him with fury burning in her eyes. “You said to tell you.”

He sighed again, burrowing into himself, wishing everything and everyone would just...go back to the way it was. The way he never knew he could want so badly. “Leave me alone, Mantis.” He heard her irritated grunt and the stomp of her feet, then watched her leave.

It didn’t take long for the tent flaps to open again, though a whiff of perfume told him that it wasn’t his sister. “You two fighting again?” Meredith said sternly, kneeling by his side. “Oh, baby.”

“Happens all the time, don’t gotta fuss about it,” Peter retorted.

“Sure. You’re both young and stubborn as mules.” At his puzzled expression, she added, “It’s a Terran animal. They sure love to dig their heels in the dirt when they don’t wanna go nowhere. Anyways, just because it happens all the time, that doesn’t mean it should. A few harmless fights can turn into a big one real quick, and next thing you know, you never talk again. Or you try to hurt each other in ways that only you know how.” She sighed, her intuition nagging at her brain, telling her to say it before Peter did. “Like me and your daddy.”

“But you still love him,” Peter said. He finally sat up, hugging his knees into his chest. “Or...I mean, yeah, you do, right?”

Meredith smiled another false smile. “Of course, Peter. Don’t you?”

Peter hesitated. “It’s hard sometimes. ‘Specially when he let all those people die.”

She reached out to cup his face with her hand, gently running her thumb over his cheek. “I’m mad at him, too. I’m furious. But you see, life ain’t as easy as one good path and one bad one. Sometimes it’s lots of paths that eventually lead to the right place, but getting there is what hurts. And sometimes, the paths don’t connect or make sense, and that makes it even harder. Your daddy’s doing the best he can with what he has, and I think if he tells us what happened, we can try to understand. Okay?”

He nodded, cracking the tiniest of smiles. “Okay.”

“Oh, and Yondu wants to see you, by the way. I already told him I don’t want to hear nothing about him training you again, but heaven knows neither of you listen to me,” Meredith chuckled. She took him by the hand and led him out of the tent to where Yondu was stationed, and for the first time, they could both appreciate the bite of fresh air along the way. “Come find me at the medical section when you’re done, alright? We’ll go have dinner together.” She kissed him briefly on the forehead before leaving, her mind already racing with the patients she had yet to see.

The guards’ quarters were merely just another long row of tents, most of which were unoccupied since the guardsmen were out helping the other Arkadians set up their temporary base, but Peter still couldn’t help but swallow down the lump in his throat. It was true; he had no interest in becoming a member of the guard since it felt all too rigid for him, too routine. He did like the uniform, though, and he did like Yondu and Kraglin, even though the rest of the guardsmen intimidated him. They watched him almost too closely, given that he was the Chancellor’s son, and he didn’t like that particular kind of attention. It was hard to do anything remotely adventurous with so many eyes following him everywhere he went.

“What took you so long, boy?” Yondu demanded. He was sitting at the front of the tent enclosure, his feet kicked up on a small, half-broken cooler. He seemed far less shaken than when he’d found Peter in the wreckage, though it was pretty typical of Yondu’s usual demeanor.

“Mom wanted to talk,” Peter protested. “She didn't even say nothin’ about you ‘til the end.” His eyes then brightened. “So are we gonna train more?”

“Surprised you can even think about something like that righ’ now,” Yondu shrugged.

“I just wanna think about somethin’ else, I guess,” Peter said quietly. “Me and Mantis had a fight, and I don’t wanna talk to Dad. So...are we?”

“Look, boy, there’s only one person I’m more scared of than your daddy, and that’s your mama,” Yondu said, chuckling wryly. Still, he gestured for Peter to come closer and sit beside him. “I know I told her it was for Kraglin, but she’s right. I could get any ol’ guard of mine to train with him. I’m doing it for you. But she’s your mama, and she knows you better than I do. So...we gotta stop.”

“But - ” Peter cut himself off, unsure of what to say. “We can still hang out and stuff, right?”

“What you wanna hang around an old man like me for?” Yondu exclaimed. “Don’t you got friends your own age?”

Peter shuffled uncomfortably, wringing his hands, and Yondu suddenly regretted asking. “Not really,” he mumbled. “No one wants to hang out with the Chancellor’s kids. Everyone thinks we’re weirdos for having powers, and that if they do somethin’ wrong, we’re gonna ask Dad to float ‘em.”

Yondu watched Peter carefully, watched his head hang a little lower, watched the corners of his mouth droop a little in despondence. He never quite knew what to say when Peter was in one of his moods - which was often - given that he’d never really had someone so young follow him around before. Sure, he had the occasional overbearing parent who insisted he train their “darling” son or daughter, but the child themselves were usually uninterested in the ordeal. Peter, on the other hand, had been in Yondu’s life since he was born, back when Ego liked to bring his infant son to meetings and show him off, excited that his Celestial powers were already beginning to manifest. Personally, Yondu thought it was more impressive that baby Peter was the only person who could make even the coldest of Council members smile.

“Just don’t be botherin’ me when I’m on duty, got it?” Yondu finally said, his voice gruff. Peter’s eyes lit up.

“Duties? What kind?” Peter asked. “Can I come?”

Yondu sighed, getting to his feet and gesturing for Peter to follow. “Guess your mama can’t fault me if you tag along on my rounds. C’mon, I hear there’s something goin’ on at hydra station.”

Gamora let out a surprisingly labored breath, sinking down onto a nearby fallen log, the palms of her hands digging into the wood grain, leaving painfully sharp welts as if to remind her of the time she was wasting. “I need a second. Let’s eat.”

Nebula looked down at her derisively. “Some heda you are. It’s only been three hours.” Gamora glared back, silently pulling her rations out of her bag and beginning to eat; she clearly wasn’t giving them a choice. Drax shrugged, not wanting to argue with her, and sat down to eat as well.

The mud trail they’d been following had eventually led to nowhere, drying up somewhere not too far from where they’d started, making it indistinguishable from the forest ground. Gamora, however, wasn’t about to admit she’d made a mistake, and was carrying on in the same direction. She supposed Nebula saw right through her, but she wasn’t certain about Drax. He seemed attentive for someone who barely knew her, but then again, maybe he just needed a friend. She also wondered whether the other children had succeeded already, if someone was bringing back a hostage this very minute. Thanos would probably - no, definitely - be disappointed if she wasn’t the first one back, would have some fresh form of torture ready in anticipation of her failure. Gamora glanced down at her arm, turning it over so she was looking at the inside of her wrist; a small glint of silver reflected back, reminding her of the last time she'd failed.

“What is that, heda?”

At the sound of Drax’s voice, she quickly pulled her sleeve down over her wrist. “Nothing.”

“Are you hurt?” Drax persisted, reaching for her arm.

“Old injury,” Gamora replied shortly, which wasn’t exactly a lie. “We should go.”

They continued on for some time, finding themselves starting to shiver when they came close to the border of Azgeda territory. Of all the warring nations, they were the coldest, both figuratively and literally, and even Nebula could muster up something resembling sympathy for any poor skaikru soul that ended up on their land. Not enough sympathy, however, to cross their borders in search of stragglers.

“This is stupid,” Nebula announced loudly about an hour later. “Who would stop us if we just stayed out here forever and never went back?”

“We’d die, Nebula,” Gamora reminded her. “Come on, we have to do this.”

“No, you do. No matter what I do, Father won’t care anyway,” Nebula said, sulking, her inky eyes narrowed to slits.

“You don’t know that,” Gamora protested. “If you bring someone back, if you tell him it was all you - ”

It only seemed to agitate Nebula further; she reared back to spit at Gamora, disgusted by her unwanted empathy, and then turned and began sprinting out of the forest and into the open, toward the dreaded border. Nebula screamed at the top of her lungs, something feral and raw and unintelligible that made Gamora’s heart stop for a split second, paralyzed with disbelief. She then went running after her, keeping her head low, hoping she wouldn’t be spotted by snipers in the tall grass; she could just barely hear Drax’s thundering footsteps behind her over the pounding of her heart against her ribcage.

Gamora wanted to call out, but she knew Azgeda warriors were notorious for hiding themselves right outside their walls, and she wasn’t about to announce where she was. The further she went, the harder it was to see, and all she could see was a blurry glimpse of Nebula just up ahead, making it impossible to figure out which direction she was going, swerving and turning at random.

Nebula’s sustained cry was interrupted by a sudden panicked yelp, followed by a sickening crunch. Gamora felt her heart leap in her throat, threatening to spill right out, and she sprinted faster, at a speed she didn’t know she was capable of. She and Drax came to a stop and nearly skidded right into the hole that Nebula had fallen into.

It was at least ten square feet across, and a good fifteen feet deep; laid on top of its opening was an intricately weaved net of grass and branches with a break in the middle, clearly where Nebula had taken one wrong step. She now laid at the bottom in a crumpled, undignified heap, still conscious and breathing, but now clutching at her broken leg. Nebula clenched her jaw, staring up at them with a burning hatred in her eyes as if they’d put her there.

“I see guards, heda,” Drax said, his voice trembling. “What do we do?”

“Gamora.” Astonished, Gamora looked down to see her sister’s expression had changed to something that seemed far more suitable for the child that she was than the adult she was trying to be, the hardness of her eyes melting away in favor of desperation. She grappled at the side of the pit, but the dirt crumbled beneath her fingers.

Gamora turned to look back at Drax, unsure if Nebula wanted her pity. “Carry her back to camp. I’ll fight the guards,” she ordered, missing the way her sister’s face fell.

“They are adults, Gamora. You are just a child,” Drax protested.

Gamora scoffed, putting her hands on her hips. “So now my name is Gamora. I am your heda, and you will listen to me. Take my sister. I’ll follow.”

Drax nodded, though it wasn’t without apprehension. He knelt on the ground so he could contort the net into a makeshift rope for Nebula, his brow furrowed with effort. Gamora smiled tightly at her sister, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time she’d ever see her again. She then turned, gritting her teeth, and began running toward the oncoming rush of Azgeda warriors.

Dinner was about as tense as could be expected, with every last Arkadian either sitting in stone-faced silence, shouting and spitting in the faces of the Council members who eventually retreated to the safety (and cowardice) of their own quarters, or sobbing into their stews. Even Ego had to return to his own tent by the time it was dark, unable to face the faces of his people, who at best, felt betrayed, but at worst, were vengeful.

Upon his return, he found Meredith, Peter, and Mantis sitting on the ground, ignoring the cots he’d lined up neatly along the back wall. The children were snuggled into Meredith’s side while she read to them, laughing and interjecting with comments in the appropriate (or in Peter’s case, inappropriate) places. They all looked up at the sound of his footsteps, genuinely surprised to see him. “Ego,” Meredith said, slowly closing the book over her thumb, holding her place. “You’re back early.”

“You never came to dinner,” Ego said airily, striding over to the cots so he could sit down and take off his boots, keeping his back to his family.

“Peter wanted to eat with the guardsmen. Kraglin’s a very good friend of his,” Meredith added.

Ego glanced over his shoulder to look at them, his eyes hard. “I know who my son is friends with,” he said shortly. “But it’s Yondu you’ve gone and gotten attached to, isn’t it, son?”

“I like ‘em both,” Peter said carefully, shrugging. Ego didn’t seem satisfied with his answer, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he reached for the haphazardly-drawn blueprints in his bag and passed it to Meredith, his face relaxing into a gentle smile at the crease that formed between her brows in confusion.

“Construction starts tomorrow,” Ego said, wanting to lean over and press his thumb to her forehead, smooth out her worries, but he wisely decided against it.

“This is...it’s a mansion, baby,” Meredith finally said, her eyes still roaming over the building plans. “Are you gonna have the strength to make that many big ol’ houses for everyone?”

“Come on now, Mer, that’s our house,” Ego chuckled. “Everyone else will get something a little more...standard. Except for the council members, of course, you know how they get. And farm station will need extra land for cultivating - ”

“We don’t need all that space, it’s only us and two kids,” Meredith interrupted. “Do you even know that there’s some families with over twelve people that lived in them tiny apartments on the Ark? Now they could use a big house.”

“I’m going to build you a ballroom, just like the ones you described,” Ego continued like he hadn’t heard her. “Big windows, lots of light, columns that go all the way up to the ceiling - I thought you’d like that, darling. So we can have a proper dance, whenever we want.”

“I do like that idea,” Meredith admitted. “But we don’t need a kitchen with all these extra little gadgets, or three sitting rooms. And I think Peter and Mantis can live with sharin’ a bathroom. I had a brother growin’ up, we survived.” Her expression faltered. “Or I guess... I did.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother, Mama,” Mantis chirped, her large eyes flickering back and forth between them. Peter clapped a hand over her mouth before she could inquire further, his blood running cold in realization of what Meredith meant.

“This is what we deserve, Meredith,” Ego insisted. “We’ve been stuck in that tiny little place on the Ark for too long now, it’s about time we get some breathing room.”

“‘We’? You were only home two nights a week, if you were there at all!” Meredith shot to her feet; her cheeks were flushed red. “And I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean by ‘deserve’. What makes us better than any of the rest? We ain’t gods, Ego, we’re just like everyone else.”

“That’s the thing, sweetheart, we really aren’t,” Ego sneered, his voice rising. “I’m the chancellor, you’re the head medic, and we know Peter’s gonna follow in his old man’s footsteps when he’s older, isn’t that right, Peter?” He didn’t bother looking to see if Peter so much as reacted. “And if you think we should still be in a tiny little dump just so we can be ‘like everyone else’, you got some strange ideas about how to live!”

“And I don’t know where you got your idea that you could talk to me like that,” Meredith’s eyes were blazing with a kind of fury that neither of her children had ever seen. Mantis cowered behind Peter, peering gingerly over his shoulder. “We don’t need a big house, we never did. We don’t need more space between us, we need less, so maybe we can go back to being a family. If we ever were a family.”

“Meredith - ”

“Do you know how embarrassin’ it is, going about my day, hearin’ all the things people say about you? All them rumors about what you do when you’re not home, who you’re really with, who Mantis really belongs to?”

Mantis gasped. Peter pulled her into his arms so he could steady her breathing against his chest, wishing fiercely that he could stop the sobs that rattled through her throat. “Mom, c’mon, you’re scarin’ her.”

Meredith turned to look at her children then, almost as if she’d forgotten they were there, and the fire in her eyes extinguished, her expression melting back into something more recognizable. She knelt beside them, reaching for Mantis. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to - ”

Mantis merely curled into Peter further, rejecting Meredith’s plea. “You want him to hurt,” she mumbled. “Why does everyone want to hurt each other so much?”

“It’s what Terrans do, Mantis,” Ego said coolly. It was the first time he’d said her name in days. “Come on now, we’re just having a little argument. Nothing to get upset about.”

“I do not just feel what is in here, but everything out there, too,” Mantis said, slowly unravelling herself from Peter’s grasp. “Everyone is sad...and angry. They want to hurt you.” She paused. “I feel...others. People I do not know. They want to hurt you, too.” Peter shivered.

Ego knelt in front of her, bringing them eye-to-eye, gripping her shoulders so hard that his knuckles went white. “And what does that mean?”

“Frag emo op!”

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Peter felt his whole world spin on its axis, only this time he was conscious enough to remember it - remember the way Meredith immediately leapt to cover them both, pinning him and Mantis to the ground, remember the way their tent went up in flames, crackling and hissing and spitting as the fire devoured itself, remember the way Ego went charging out into the open with his hands outstretched, powers at full blast, searing blinding white light across the expanse of their settlement, roaring with anger.

“What’s happening?” Peter exclaimed frantically once he found his voice again, barely noticing the sour taste of dirt in his mouth or the scrapes on his elbows and knees.

“I don’t know, baby, but stay calm,” Meredith murmured, helping to push his hair away from his eyes, though she sounded like she was on the verge of tears. “We gotta get movin’ before we inhale too much smoke. Follow me.”

The three of them belly-crawled across the ground, keeping themselves beneath the flames that licked at their heels and the putrid air that danced in their throats. After what felt like the longest minute of their lives, Meredith pulled them both to their feet and they all began to profusely cough what felt like the entire contents of their lungs out. “Wait - what - what about Dad?” Peter wheezed. “I got powers too, I could help - ”

“No. We don’t know what we’re dealin’ with here,” Meredith said firmly. “That language they spoke? That don’t sound like nothin’ we’ve ever heard before.”

“What do you mean?” Mantis asked.

Meredith paused. “It means we aren’t alone.”

“Alone?” Peter repeated.

“We can’t think about that right now, okay? We need to get to safety. Your daddy will find us later, he always does,” Meredith promised, pulling them both in for a brief embrace. “Let’s go find Yondu. If he’s doing his job right, he’s already got an evacuation plan up and runnin’.”

They ran through the camp, dodging the panicked Arkadians sprinting past, screaming themselves hoarse trying to find their families and friends. Peter could also hear the heavy footfalls of unfamiliar boots, the metallic clang of weapons striking their targets, the sickening crunch of bodies collapsing to the ground. The loudest sound, however, was Mantis crying frantically beside him, her breath running ragged, clutching to him and Meredith so hard that her fingernails were digging welts into their wrists.

Then, a flash of metal appeared in the corner of Peter’s peripheral vision - bright, brilliant silver, coming straight down toward Mantis’s head - and he shouted, bringing his hands up without hesitation. A blast of white light burned from his palms, stronger than any light he’d projected before, flinging the attacker clean across the field before they could even graze his sister’s shoulder.

Heads turned his way, faces that he didn’t recognize, some humanoid and some entirely alien, all snarling and spitting and full of vitriol he didn’t know was possible. There was a single pause, then they came charging at him, chanting in the language that none of them could understand, holding their swords and guns and spears over their heads with the intent to bring them down on his head. So, Peter did the first thing that came to mind - he ran.

Meredith and Mantis screamed after him until their throats were raw, watching helplessly as the soldiers tore past them in pursuit of Peter, but he wasn’t about to stop, not if his powers would distract them, would keep them from hurting his people. He ran and ran and ran like everyone’s lives depended on it - and in a way, it did - occasionally turning to blast them again, sending them crashing to the ground. It was only when the last of them had finally fallen that Peter realized how far he had gotten and what he had done.

“Mom?” he said rather stupidly, coming to a halt. He knew she couldn’t hear him, not when he was miles away. He turned, then turned again, trying to figure out where he’d come from, but he had zig-zagged all over the fields, through the trees, remembered his feet hitting the water of a shallow stream at some point, and - oh, he thought to himself, unable to find his voice again - I’m lost.

His belly twisted itself in knots the second he realized it, and he clutched at his rapidly beating heart, willing himself to stay calm. He had never been lost before; though the Ark was a behemoth of a ship, there were always people nearby who could help him find his way, no matter how far he wandered off in search of adventure. This was no adventure, this was a nightmare, one in which his vision was getting swallowed up in the darkness, where everything looked the same, but nothing was familiar.

Then, Peter heard a rustling in the nearby bushes. He spooked instantly, leaping backward with a soft yelp. “Don’t be a baby, Peter,” he chastised himself.

He suddenly felt something wrap around his ankles and yank him right to the ground, hitting his chin hard against the dirt. Peter shouted in pain, feeling blood pool in his mouth and nose from the impact, but he was quickly silenced by someone’s hand over his mouth and the weight of someone pinning him down. “Shof op, kepon.”

Peter lifted his head, terrified it was the last thing he was ever going to see, and nearly fainted in shock (and blood loss) at what he did see - a young girl, about his age, baring her teeth at him, blood streaked across her face. He could barely make out any other distinguishing features in the darkness, but he could see the ferocity in her eyes, the kind he’d never seen in someone so young. “You’re a kid,” he said breathlessly.

“Yu...laik goufa.” She looked just as confused as he did, like she was only just seeing him for the first time. She eased her knee away from his stomach (he could feel the bruise already beginning to blossom across his torso) and withdrew the blade she had pressed to his throat, though she still had a tight grip on the advanced-looking device she’d used to bind his ankles. “Chon yu biliak?”

He blinked. “How come my translator don’t work on...whatever it is you’re sayin’?”

She eyed him warily as she got to her feet. “Hakom yu kamp roun hir? Yu hir frag ai op?”

“Look, I don’t know - I don’t - please, you gotta let me go. We just got attacked by - I dunno, prob’ly your people - and I ran and I got lost, and I...I don’t know where I am or what’s goin’ on or - ” His breath rattled between his teeth. Feeling rather silly, Peter held out his hand, scraped raw, blood running down the lengths of his fingers. The girl looked at it with wide eyes, horrified to see what she’d done. “My name is Peter.”

“Ai laik Gamora kom Trikru.” With a soft shnk, his bindings were released, retreating back into the small device she was holding before he could blink. She knelt beside him, pushing her dark hair out of her eyes so they could properly get a look at one another. Her face was softer now, almost regretful. “My name is Gamora. You’re one of the Sky People.”

“Is that what your people are callin’ us?” Peter to struggled to sit up; it felt like every part of his body was aching from the sheer force of her attack, as if a fully-grown adult had attacked him, rather than a girl who had to be at least three inches shorter. “So you do speak...something my translator knows.”

“Trigedasleng is for my enemies, my language is for my people,” she said neatly, almost like she was reciting it from something. “Other children are not my enemy.”

“So what were you gonna do if I was an adult?” Peter asked, incredulous, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Gamora’s eyes couldn’t meet his. “That isn’t for you to know.”

“You coulda killed me! I think I oughta know,” he protested.

Sighing, she sat back on her haunches and began re-pocketing all her weapons; he was alarmed at the number of pouches and loops she had on her belt. “I would take you back to my leader as my kepon - captive. But I didn’t mean to come this way. I was near the Azgeda border, on my way home, when I saw light - your light. So I wanted to find you. I didn’t know you were a child.”

“So, what, your people don’t kill kids? ‘Cos it looked like they were doin’ it just fine back there,” Peter snapped. He then inwardly cowered for doing so; she seemed merciful so far, like she didn’t want to do what she was doing, but he had a feeling that one wrong word had the potential to change her mind.

“We aren’t the same. I can’t hurt you like I hurt the others.”

“Others?” he echoed.

“Never mind.” She got to her feet abruptly, turning her back to him, the last of her knives back on her belt. “Go home, Petr kom Skaikru. I’m letting you live.”

“Wait.” Peter reached out, clasped her wrist to hold her there. His blood smeared across her skin; she shuddered. “I don’t...I don’t know how to get home. I dunno where I am or how far or...or nothin’.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “My people are looking for me.”

“Yeah? So are mine,” Peter retorted, smiling slightly when her expression faltered. “Lots of people died trying to get here. More people are dyin’ right now. I don’t want my mom and sister to think I died, too.”

“You...have a sister.” Gamora turned to fully face him, her expression unreadable. “Fine. I’ll take you back.”

He bit back the urge to draw her into a grateful hug, instead electing to let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you, um, Gamora kom...kom...I dunno what you said.”

She rolled her eyes, gesturing for him to fall into step beside her. “Ai laik Gamora kom Trikru, ‘I am Gamora of the Forest Clan’. If you and your people are going to stay, they need to learn Trig. Some factions won’t speak anything else.”

“Then teach me,” he said far too eagerly for someone who she’d tried to kill just ten minutes ago. “You said I was - ”

“Peter kom Skaikru - ‘of the Sky People’,” she replied with a huff; she wasn’t sure if she’d ever been so annoyed with someone’s existence so quickly. “Why would I? We’re never going to see each other again.”

“I guess not,” Peter mumbled. “I mean, with your people tryna kill my people and everything.”

“Wamplei ste komba raun,” Gamora said, her voice low.

“What does that - whoa - ”

Peter nearly tripped over something, unable to see much further than a few feet in the darkness. Bile burned in his throat when he realized it was a body, a body he’d put there. A man in armor, tall and lanky and long-limbed. He reminded Peter too much of Kraglin. Gamora stared down at it, unseeing, barely flinching when the man twitched, gasping for breath, his cold-gray eyes flying open.

“Heda?” he asked, his voice thin. “Heda, beja…”

“Okay,” she said, swallowing. She knelt beside him and motioned for Peter to join her. He did so automatically, too numb to realize what his body was even doing, the metallic smell of blood overwhelming all of his senses. “Leidon...reshwe.”

It took Peter too long to realize what was happening as she drew her blade from her belt, then drove it into the man’s chest. His eyelids fluttered closed, an eerily serene smile on his face, and he drew his last breath. Peter let out a gasp of horror, turned to dry-heave over the grass, but nothing came up. “How could you - ”

“I said we aren’t the same.” When he looked back at her, her eyes were wet as she calmly cleaned her blade with a small cloth.

“I killed that guy,” Peter breathed. “All those soldiers, I - they’re dead, and I - ”

“No. I killed him,” Gamora said. Her breath shook. “He asked me to.”

“Do you just go around killin’ people ‘cos they ask?!” Peter’s voice was getting more hysterical with every word.

“Your people are that way.” She pointed in a direction he could barely follow in his haze. “I think I should go now.”

“Don’t.” Gamora hesitated, furrowing her brow at him. “I don’t know what messed-up stuff has been goin’ on here for the last hundred years, but I do know I’m never gonna get back without you. Then I really am gonna end up...dead.”

Wordlessly, she nodded, got to her feet, and began walking again. He followed her, fists clenched at his side. He’d seen more death than he ever wanted to in a thousand lifetimes, created it, even, but he knew he had no choice. Maybe it was better that they never see each other again, that she was some horrifying child assassin that he thought only existed in the books and films that his father told him he could never look at. For now, though, she was all he had.

The rest of the journey back to the Arkadian camp was in silence. Peter kept his chin high, knowing that if he looked down, he’d see more bodies, only these ones didn’t seem to have people who were going to come for them, not like Yondu and his guardsmen for the Arkadians. Gamora, on the other hand, seemed resigned, the confidence in her stride and her posture from their initial encounter entirely gone. He tried not to pay attention to the sharp inhaling noises she made every minute or so; he knew the sound of someone trying not to cry when he heard it. It gave him hope, at least, that she wasn’t entirely soulless. He supposed he should’ve already known that, given her mercy from earlier, but it was hard to erase the vivid image of her blade in the man’s chest, glinting tauntingly in the moonlight.

“We’re here,” Gamora said hollowly after fifteen minutes of uncomfortable quiet. Peter could smell smoke but saw no flames, heard the idle chatter that told him the fight was over. He heard his father’s voice, booming over all the rest. From his tone, he sounded angry but not stricken, and Peter could only hope that meant the rest of his family were alright.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice raw from disuse. He’d never gone so long without talking before. “Hey, uh, are you gonna be okay? About the...thing?”

She turned to look at him; her nose and ears were tinged pink, and it wasn’t from the cold. “He asked me to...didn’t he?”

I don’t know. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, he would’ve been hurtin’ for way longer if you hadn’t...yeah, he did.” She squeezed her eyes shut, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. Her fingers flexed involuntarily, a motion that Peter had only seen Yondu and his other guardsmen do. He stepped closer, though he didn’t dare to reach out. Her sorrow felt contagious. “Sorry ‘bout getting all mad at you for nothin’. I guess I just...when we left for Earth, we didn’t think it was gonna be like this.”

“What did you think it was going to be?” She dragged the heel of her palm across her face in a feeble attempt to dry her eyes.

“My mom’s from here. She had all these stories about growin’ up in a place called Missouri. She went to church with her parents every Sunday at a place called St. Peter’s. That’s where she got my name,” he added.

“It sounds like it was really nice here...once,” Gamora said, a tiny smile beginning to form. “You should go to your mother now.”

“What about you?” Peter asked, stepping even closer; they were nearly toe-to-toe now. “Do you live around here?”

“You really want me to teach you Trigedasleng,” she drawled, almost like she was teasing him. “Even after - ”

“I mean it, it’s okay. Or I guess, it’s not okay, but...I dunno what I’m saying, my head hurts,” he admitted with a weary laugh. He was getting increasingly delirious with every word that left his mouth. Something about this particular time of night - or day, who knew - made everything feel hazy, dreamlike, uncertain. “So...maybe I’ll see you around.”

Gamora looked at him again, really looked at him this time - he was a skinny kid, the kind that Thanos recruited for thievery; he had inquisitive eyes and a curious mouth. His hair was a little long and his words were a little bit disjointed, but against her instincts, she found herself smiling a little bit wider. “Maybe.”

That seemed good enough for him, and he grinned in a charmingly lopsided way before turning to return to his people. The closer he got, the more his heart drummed in his chest, thrilled at the sound of his mother’s strong accent and his sister’s soft lilt. Peter turned to wave at Gamora, still stood atop the small slope, and called, “Thanks again, Gamora kom Trikru!” With a quiet laugh, her eyes damp with mirth, she waved back.

a/n: I love writing Peter and Gamora meeting for the first time in pretty much all of my AUs so that last sequence was so fun to finally get to! Also, I got a comment on the prologue from the lovely star_munches about being unfamiliar with The 100, so to give you some visuals, here is an idea of what Thanos's settlement would look like (with Sanctuary, his ship from Infinity War instead of the show's Ark), and here is an approximation of how Gamora and Nebula would be dressing at this particular age.

I'm not quite sure when chapter two will be posted, as I have a lot of due dates stacked up next month, but hopefully before the end of March! Thank you so much for reading, likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed :)

Trigedasleng translations: frag emo op - kill them all shof op, kepon - shut up, hostage / yu laik goufa - you're a child chon yu biliak? - who are you? / hakom yu kamp roun hir? yu hir frag ai op? - why are you here? are you here to kill me? wamplei ste komba raun - death is coming / heda, beja - Commander, please / leidon, reshwe - goodbye, rest in peace

#starmora #starmora fic #peter x gamora #gamora x peter #gotg fic #myfic #myfic: across the universe #marvel #have a good friday/weekend y'all!!

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purkinje-effect · 6 years

Text

The Purkinje Effect, 33

Table of Contents

‘Choly and Geek both glanced at their Pip-Boys, the former on his right wrist and the latter on his left. Then, they glanced to each other, almost as though to insinuate they needed to turn their keys at the same time like some kind of launch sequence.

“Didn’t know it worked on vaults besides the one they came from.” The pink ghoul waved off ‘Choly and scaled the stairs of the mezzanine up to the vault door. “Don’t worry ‘bout gettin’ down, I’ll get it.”

While Geek looked over the lead yellow panel and unreeled the tension-rolled wire key-prong of his Pip-Boy, ‘Choly and Hancock watched from ground level.

“Pip-Boys are RobCo tech, not Vault-Tec.” ‘Choly couldn’t not interrupt the silence. “They’re compatible, and they’re both military affiliates. You shouldn’t be all too surprised, really.”

“Like ya better when you’re not spoutin’ off condescending trivia.”

Geek remembered how to engage the panel. He inserted the cylindrical lipstick-key into its port, then flipped the protective clear lid off the big red square button and mashed it with the butt of his fist. When the alert sirens started their low bleating, and the amber warning lights to either side of the gear-shaped door got to rotation, he rejoined his compatriots, unsure which direction the door would be pulled. After a series of mechanical processes, the door pulled in a few feet and rolled away to one side, producing a telescoping catwalk into the vault.

Geek shouldered Hancock.

“After you.”

Hancock took the lead, Geek close behind, and ‘Choly lagged a bit to keep an eye peeled. They entered, with caution, into a collective jumble of different colored aluminum shipping crates.

“Goddammit,” a ghoul Triggerman muttered. “I hate it when they open the door. Why’s that thing so loud?”

Geek shot an arm out to keep Hancock from going any further, the hand of the other hushing him.

“Skinny? Darla? That you?”

The Triggerman came out from behind the concrete support pillar where he’d hidden, and when they startled him, he pulled a pistol on them. He knocked a few bullets into Geek before the pink ghoul could get in close enough to rake the guy’s throat open, and the ghoul mobster crumpled with a gurgle.

Hancock tried the pocket door immediately ahead of them, and when it wouldn’t open, he steadied his shotgun at the lock panel in squinting irritation, only to bum a Mentat off the chemist instead of following through with the threat.

“Damn.” Hancock sighed. “Door’s out. Either it’s fritzed out or the terminal for it must be on the inside.”

“This vault is quite strange.” ‘Choly popped a sublingual Mentat of his own and squinted off to the right of them, where the Medbay lay. “Not even one room into the place, and I already feel like nothing is going to be located where one would expect it.”

“Glad we’re on the same page with that one.” Geek lit up another cigarette, trying to steel his shaking as he glanced off at a second storage room to the left. “Take it yours ain’t set up like this, and mine ain’t, either. Also glad that ass got my left shoulder. Better with my right.” He pointed at Hancock. “Before we step another inch in this place, you’re talkin’. This ain’t just ‘bout your little friend, comin’ in here.”

Hancock raised his hands in a sly resignation.

“Guilty as charged. I figured this job would be a better starting bonding exercise than the library. These rats keep creeping up in my territory, and this is their nest. Does multi-duty, clearing this place out. This is mostly about Nick, but it also stands to make Goodneighbor a lot safer in the process. That, and...” He gave Geek a mollifying smolder. “This is a vault. Hopefully there’s some useful information here besides a nonstandard blueprint. Might even find some... familiar equipment?”

“Mmh. And the muzzle?”

“I meant it when I said it was for everybody’s protection, but I also mean it that it ain’t ‘cause I don’t trust ya. It’s just, ah. Nick’s the reason I came around to synths, and I know a lot of folks--him and me included--who’d rather he got home in one piece.”

Appeased by the answer though a bit hurt by it, Geek left Hancock and ‘Choly to talk between themselves while he ducked into the Medbay to retrieve a Stimpak. He administered it just under the armpit, through the fabric of his jumpsuit, so it could do its work while he surveyed the side storage room for anything useful. He came across a functioning terminal and sat and read while his companions jabbered.

Geek skimmed the Check-In instructions. It read just like his own had. Line up and maintain calm. Change into your Vault Suit immediately. Save all inquiries for orientation. The list of families slotted to inhabit Vault 114 was far shorter than the one for Vault 82--a mere thirty-eight individuals plus one dog annotated, between nine families and one bachelor--and it nagged at him that some of the names seemed vaguely familiar somehow. Unlike Vault 82, however, personnel had marked the dog as “do NOT allow,” and he sneered at the notion that the residents had to pick between their pets and shelter from annihilation. Plenty of 82′s families had included a variety of different animal members, but within a year of being sealed up from the outside world, all but one had been the first casualties of relying on the nutritive paste.

He didn’t much enjoy the reminder of Emery’s African grey. Not that it stayed grey for long.

“A synth?” ‘Choly got knotted up in a tangled sarcasm. “We’re down here to rescue a robot? You pulling one on me now?”

“Hey now, Nick's way more than just a robot. Take it from your tone you never met any of the more... high end models?” Through the window in the wall, Geek glanced up to see Hancock trace a jocular hourglass gesture with his fingertips.

“Just how many callers have you got, Casanova?”

“It was a joke! Really, though, I’ve lost count...”

Geek opened a disclosure file, and skimmed what read at a glance to be an outline of the type of traffic to expect and allow prior to the vault’s completion. He tried the vertical metal hydraulic pocket door, to no avail, so he vanished the cigarette butt and doubled back to where his companions stood waiting for him.

“According to that terminal in there, Vault-Tec didn’t just buy land that had already been dug out, by cuttin’ a deal with the city to use Park Street Station for the vault... but they also outsourced labor to a number of contractors instead of using their own employees. Somethin’ tells me this vault wasn’t made top quality. Some a the names on the roster are buggin’ me too, soundin’ familiar. Like... Todd Gates.”

“You don’t remember Todd Gates!” ‘Choly scoffed over the gossip. “He ran for Boston mayor a few years before everything went to hell. He hadn’t settled down with kids let alone a wife, and it hurt his public image bad enough to sabotage his own election success. Boston wanted a family man. He lived here?”

Geek could only squint at the chemist a moment, uneasy to have his memory jogged with what felt like proof of ‘Choly being unequivocally prewar, for him to blurt that out like it had just happened yesterday. He sighed and let it go.

“If it’s the same guy. That door over there don’t lead to a supply closet. Let’s try it.”

The door in mention lay in the storage space to the left of the atrium, and the three took it to find a long maintenance hall with winding stairs. Approaching another storage room, they all hugged either side of the open pocket door’s frame, to eavesdrop on the Triggermen inside. The two conversed in the next maintenance hall to the left of this room. Despite the shipping crates, what seemed like another storage room at a glance might have actually been intended as a locker room.

“So, I got a question,” one of them started. “Why the hell would anyone build a vault out of a subway station? This place is like... the opposite of air-tight.”

“Because they weren’t planning to use it, you moron.” The ghoul sounded wounded by the naivete of his ally. “We used to pull this kind of con all the time back before the war. Get a bunch of union boys to work some construction job that would go nowhere. Keep everyone on payroll.”

Geek rolled his one good eye that he’d cold read the vault construction process, and proceeded to try to get the rush on the two of them, managing to slash the human’s throat from behind before the ghoul caught wind of the ambush. He rolled his left shoulder and made eye contact with the other Triggerman as he dropped the first one. Before the second one could steady his submachine gun in Geek’s direction, Hancock had fired off a pair of rounds from just behind him, which clipped the Triggerman in the arm and throat.

“Startin’ t’like this knife.”

“It sure is messy.” Hancock shot him a concerned look. “Don’t let me makin’ you mad get you running reckless into predicaments, all right? You know I’m doing my best. For both of you.”

“Could have fooled me.” ‘Choly loitered behind in the locker room, just watching. “I really don’t understand why you dragged both of us into all this.”

“Mister Carey means to say he feels like a third wheel,” Angel elaborated.

Geek snorted and made an inviting gesture to the Handy-bound vaultie.

“Tight corridors like these, it’s best to trade off in pairs. By all means. Lead the way, y’Nimrod. Anybody’s guess which way’s the right way, with what I’m guessin’ was the front door locked tight. I’ll let you two take the lead.”

‘Choly gladly led them off down the hallway, Hancock right behind him and Geek a ways after that. The chemist opened the pocket door at the end of the hall, only for them to come upon another maze of mezzanines, enormous pipelines, and blinding construction spotlights. Another chaotic fray erupted between the trio and ten Triggermen occupying the chamber of halted construction, much in same the fashion as the first before they’d passed the vault door. Once they’d dealt with the criminals, they spread out to look for a path to proceed.

“A Plutonium Well?” ‘Choly remarked with a sniff, recoiling away from the source of radiation that lit up the Geiger counter of his Pip-Boy. “They hit a Municipal Plutonium Well drilling and just... left it?”

“I’ll do you one worse,” Hancock replied, shaking his head in disbelief as he stared at what could only be skeletons and coffins spilling out. “I don’t think Vault-Tec had a permit to be excavating this far in. Talk about cuttin’ corners...”

‘Choly joined him and frowned with a deferential Russian mumble.

Meanwhile, Geek had investigated the wall through which they’d entered the chamber, and happened upon another room. He rooted through the toolkit he found in the middle of the room, and pocketed the fistful of cash he found beside it without a word. He peered down the two-story-deep opening in the floor to a room below them, and he rubbed his face when he recognized its original function would likely have been an elevator shaft had it been finished.

“Did y'all find any other way deeper in?” he asked them from the doorway.

“No. You?”

“Hope you’re not scared of heights.”

The pink ghoul doubled back with a bated breath. There was only one way to put his new leg armor framework to the test. Power armor had impact resistance mechanisms for jumping off ledges in minor cases, or from Vertibirds in extreme cases. He lit a fresh cigarette, and didn’t wait for his companions to join him before he leaped down with a metallic din. Looking to his footing, he’d left a dent in the enameled metal flooring, and he chuckled through a long smoky exhale.

“I’d say they work.”

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 fanfic #fo4 #hancock #fallout 4 oc #geek #melancholy #the purkinje effect #sole survivor #vault dweller #vault 114

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baldtaelovemaze · 6 years

Text

The prettiest soul (2)

Hoseok X reader

Reaper!au

Warnings: angst, harsh language, death.

Words: 4.6k

In which a reaper falls in love with a human”s soul and steals it. after she reclaims it, unusual feelings are left behind and the reaper can’t seem to stop appearing before her at the most random times. Will she be able to brush off such feelings or will they consume her?

previous part.

You watch him inhale then exhale.

Reapers breathe?

“You are the reincarnation of my soul mate.”

“w-what?”

Your eyes grow wide, darting everywhere on the man’s face to find a trace of mischief.

Your breath hitches when you find none.

He swipes his tongue on his lip, a breathy laugh escaping his nervous mouth, “Yeah.” His throat feels tight and inflamed under your burning gaze.

“How can a mere human like me-” with a trembling hand you point over to your chest.” be your past soulmate? And -what soulmates are actually a thing?” You can’t help but smile in astonishment, eyes sparkling over the fact that something so pure and romantic which you only saw in movies or badly written fanfictions by a Canadian teen in her basement, actually existed.

“There was a time where I wasn’t a reaper, wasn’t a man who brought nothing but terror and sadness to humans. There was a time where I was happy, where I was in love-” he smiles softly, ”In love with you.”

You watch him as he brings his finger up and gently boops your nose, leaving you red and flustered.

“What happened to that time?” She steps closer, no longer fearing the fire as she looks at him with sweet eyes, curious and thirsty to learn more about him and herself- her past.

His hand aches to be held by hers, after all these years, after all these centuries the ache is still there. The butterflies never left.

She looks just as beautiful as the last time he saw her.

“War happened.” The glow in his has disappeared, leaving them dark, cold and hurt.

Her mouth hangs, brows creasing as she searches in his now dead eyes then it happens, she sees it.

400 years ago.

“My king,” The general was breathless, cuts and bruises graced his skin as he kneeled before the king. “They have successfully entered the capital and brought the thousand men on guard there down along with innocent civilians.”

The room is mute.

She watches as his fist and jaw clench, blood boiling as beads of sweat coat his forehead.

She watches as the now crazy and reckless man pulls out his sword on one of his most loyal men, “You’re useless to me.” Her orbs grow with each step he takes from his throne.

The general is caught off guard, not even being able to scream.

She watches and suddenly she can’t see anymore, head trapped between two shoulders, she gazes up to the one who hides her view from the bloodshed.

Hoseok.

She hears the gasps in the room which are quickly shushed by the man as he demands silence, looking off to the distance where black smoke and more bloodshed is held.

The gold and silk on his body shine brightly with the help of the now setting sun.

She can’t see well, not because of the body protecting her but because of the water that filled to the rim of her waterline, threatening to leak any second now.

“They’ve never gotten this far-what will happen to us? It’s over!” she panics, body trembling like leaves, her voice quivers.

“hey hey hey-” he grips her shoulders, eyes searching for hers, ”It's okay, I’ll protect you no matter what. That’s why am here, to serve you and make sure you stay alive. No matter what.” Eyes soft, he smiles when she nods vigorously.

He’ll give his life to make sure she stays alive, not because this is what he plead before the kings just a couple years ago but because he loves her to death and he means every. single.word.

The palace shakes, screams of terror filling the air once again.

She leaps into his embrace, sobs ripping out of her throat as he hugs back just as tightly.” They’re here Hoseok-” she cries out, terror pumping through her veins, ”They’re here for me!”

The man looks over his shoulder, making sure the coast is clear, ”We need to move rapidly, Princess. You need to stay by my side no matter what happens. Got it?” He whispers, brow up as he looks for a way to get her to calm down.

He holds her closer.

Just as expected, she calms down.

“I’d never leave you Hoseok. Not until my last breath.”

“The same goes my way, princess.”His hand travels down her arm. He intertwines his lanky fingers with hers. “Let’s get you to safety.” he grins, rapidly easing the woman.

Not long after, the King orders for every member of his bloodline to be brought out of the capital.

They rush out of the main room, leaving the king behind with his sword drawn ready to fight for his kingdom, ready to fight for his life.

“Wait I think I hear something,” Hoseok stops in his tracks, ear trying its best to pick up any sounds.

Her breath rags as she looks over her shoulder, eyes wide.”We should hide in the room over there, quick!” she says as she drags him by the arm to the tiny storage room.

They squeeze in, the tight space making it impossible to be more than an inch apart.

He looks down at her. He sees the way her head rest on his chest just over his beating heart and memories of their past flashes in his mind. He smiles to himself, loving the way her warmth radiates on his skin.

She listens carefully. She listens to every jump, every stutter, every heartbeat of the man who swore to protect her.

Of the man she loves.

The man who knew that he loved her the second he laid his eyes on her ten years ago. He loved her when she was a small and frail girl and he loves her now as a beautiful and strong woman.

A beautiful and strong married woman.

he loved her just as much when his father gave her hand in marriage to the prince of the neighboring kingdom.

He loved her and stood silently next to her when she kissed her husband, her prince, Min Yoongi.

His smile flatters.

“Hoseok,” She calls out with a small voice, looking up to his warm brown eyes.

“Yes, my princess?”

Her gaze drops to the floor, gulping down the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. “I-I realize that I may not have much more time on this earth besides you.”

“W-what? What are you talkin-” hoseok is shushed by her lips who crash on his.

He shakes at first, eyes wide and hands awkwardly in the air but once he feels her hands tangle in his messy jet black hair, he melts in her embrace, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses back just as passionately. He feels millions of fireworks go off within him.

He feels the lips he’s always longed for finally on his. His hands find their way to her waist, gripping her tightly against him, he lets his tongue lap over her bottom lip then travel inside of her mouth. He squeezes his eyes shut as he memorizes the way she tastes, the way her lips feel so good on his, the way they mold so perfectly together as if they were made for each other.

“I’ve found you.” Hoseok feels the metal on his skin, freezing when he hears the voice.

She freezes too when she recognizes the voice. “Y-Yoongi?” she lets his name fall off her lips with a gasp. “W-what are you doing?”

The shorter man laughs, bitter as he eyes his wife with another man.

“I could ask you the very same question. Locking lips with a mere military man? And here I thought I would spare his life since you've had seemed to know him for a long time.” he tuts, head shaking as he digs the sword deeper into Hoseok’s flesh making him wince in agony.

Her heart thumpers, lips quivering “Y-you’re behind this aren’t you?” she spits.

Yoongi smirks, “Behind the rebellion in the kingdom?” he brings his index up, pointing lazily over his chest.” Why yes, indeed I am!”He pipes, a gummy smile on his lips.

She glares, disgusted.

Hoseok tries his best to keep a straight face as his back bleeds, sword gradually cutting his skin then penetrating his muscle.

“The king-Your father is now dead thanks to my men.”

She doesn’t bat an eye, remaining stoic as Yoongi speaks.

“The kingdom is in ashes and in need of a new leader,” he states, twirling the point of the sword into Hoseok’s spine who grits his teeth.

“The new leader is you I suppose?” She asks, hands sneaking themselves around Hoseok’s waist to reassure him.

Reassure him like the countless times he did to her.

Today, she would be the one protecting.

“I thought that you would make an excellent queen by my side but with him as a distraction, I see that It’d be a little difficult? Shall I get rid of him at once?” He sings out, eyes crazed as he draws back his sword to slash the man who is willing to die for his princess, his love, his soulmate.

The grip around his waist becomes hard as steel as she uses all the strength her body can muster at that moment to turn him on his heels causing the sword to not penetrate his body but hers.

Blood gushes out of her back as she uses her last force to push her lips on his shaking ones for a final kiss.

She uses her last breath to finally utter what she’s been holding within her heart for the past decade, “You were always the one I loved. As promised, I never left you till my last breath, I never stopped loving you till my final breath, Hoseok.” She croaks out with a weak smile, tears flowing out of her eyes. Her body slowly goes limp in his arms.

Hoseok’s entire being breaks.

He lets the body gently fall to his feet as inhuman rage engulfs his heart and mind. At the speed of light, he draws out his weapon and slashes Yoongi’s neck, making his skull fall on the floor with a thud and his body shortly follow afterward.

He drops to the ground on his knees, eyes vacant as he stares at her lifeless.

He had felt the epitome of happiness and sadness at only 25 years old.

He cradles her into his arms as he sobbed quietly, ”What’s the point of being alive if you’re not here with me? You really leave me after you’ve told me what I’ve dreamed of hearing for years? he chuckles sadly as he runs his bloody hand through his hair.

He lays her back on the ground, fingers gentle. he proceeds the grab the blood-stained knife and lay beside her, placing a strand of loose hair behind her ear, he admires her serene visage, finally peaceful.

“We will meet again in our next lives. no matter how longs it takes, I’ll never stop looking for you.”

He stabs himself in the heart, blood draining from his wound as he dies silently.

She gasps loudly as if she had been under water and had finally swum up to the surface to fill her lungs with oxygen.

“Oh my God,” Her lips shudder, gazing at the man who remains silent as he wipes her damp cheeks.

She hadn't even realized she’d been crying.

“T-that was me-That was us!” Her hands rush to hold his cold and aching ones. “Our story...” she trails.

“Our love story, ”Hoseok adds, his hands finally feeling her warmth after centuries of separation.

“You’ve must have been so lonely, all these years alone Hoseok.”She whimpers, heart-shattering when realizing that his name rolled out so naturally off her tongue.

Her forehead creases, thousands of unanswered questions bubbling inside her form. She asks, not being able to help herself. “How did you become like this? Forced to live through countless times and never reincarnate? How did you become a reaper?”

“Thanks to you, I finally remember why and how I died and I now know which capital sins doomed me to this life,” he smiled weakly, ”not only did I kill people but I killed myself too. As a result, I was sentenced to guide souls to their afterlife all while being forbidden to access mine for eternity unless-” he raises his index in the air, once again booping her nose. ”-unless I found you, my one and only true soulmate.”He caresses your hands, ecstatic.

“My heart is what led me to you on that night. I Just had a feeling you would finally be there. When I saw you I got so excited but I was too scared to speak to you. Knowing that I could possibly end your life with one word, I got help from a couple wandering souls and fate, they led you to the grandma who led you to me.” He explains and it clicks.

“So that's why you took my soul? You found a loophole in the system!” you laugh, bewildered. “since you already had my soul, when I spawned you, you wouldn't be obligated to take my soul by force, instead, you’d be obligated to give it back to me if I claimed it!” She beamed and hoseok nodded, his smile slowly flattering.

“there’s a catch isn’t there?”Her lips pursed, voice now quiet.

“My future-Well our future depends on your choice. if you’re ready to give up your life or not.”

“My l-life?” she takes a step back.

Hoseok sighs, ”Humans and reapers can’t be with each other due to my powers. Each second you would spend with me I’d unwillingly suck the life out of your body even if it is soulless.” He runs a hand through his hair, eyelids blinking slow.”What I meant earlier by being sentenced for eternity unless I met you is that you’re my key. The sole chance I have to reincarnation. If you agree, the memories of all the people you’ve ever encountered in your life would be completely washed. You and I would die and meet again at an undetermined time in our next life.”

Her eyelids flicker rapidly as she nods, listening attentively. “and if I say no?”

He glanced at her once more, licking his lips before speaking again.”If you say no, all memories of us ever meeting will be washed away. The universe will select another person as your soul mate and I will have to continue my job as a reaper.”

The enthusiasm is gone.

Your heart sinks, brain trying it’s best to keep up with all the information thrown at you.

If I say yes, I die and lose everything I've worked hard for, everyone who cares for me and who knows? I might meet Hoseok in my next life moments away from death.

But If I say no, I lose the only person whose loved me enough to spend 400 years looking for me. I take away his only chance at happiness -at life.

But the feelings my past form felt for him aren’t the same feelings my present self feels for him right? I might be the reincarnation of that princess but am a completely different person with a completely different life from hers.

But he’s waited centuries for me...

“Give me more time to think.” She blurts out, nibbling hard on her lip, hard enough to draw blood if she applies just a bit more pressure.

Hoseok blinks, mouths parting as he thinks for a second.”Normally you’d have to make your choice right now but I understand how hard this can be. Giving up your life for a future that is unsure is far from being an easy thing.” he simpers, ”I will give you a week deadline. I’ll be waiting for you every day in front of the little coffee shop near your home and on the last day if by the tick of midnight you still haven’t made your choice I’ll consider your answer as a no.”

She grin, exposing her pearly teeth as she looks up at him with glassy orbs.”Why that coffee shop? Why can’t I just spawn you in my room again like I did here?” she asks, faces illuminated by the fire under Hoseok’s toes.

“That’s the coffee shop of fate,” he says simply, confusing the girl even more.

“Of fate?”

“If you meet me there before your time is up, I’ll tell you all about it. You don’t need to pick yes as your choice to know. I guess you can say am offering you this sacred knowledge as a gift for you showing up!” he chimes, scratching his neck.

You blink at the ground, smile small and soft. “Okay then..” you gaze up through your lashes, the warmth of his eyes engulfing you quickly, “I guess I don’t have any more questions so we’re done..?” brow up, she’s adorable.

“Yeah, we're done.” he smiles tight and y/n melts when she sees his dimples but decides against acting out on her rash thoughts and poking his face.

“I guess I'll go! Just blow out the candle and I’ll be out of your shoes!” He points over to the flame beneath him.

She crouches down, pausing for a second. “You better not leave out a single detail about the coffee shop of fate.” She whispers, chuckling lowly before blowing out the candle.

“The weather has been awfully inconsistent lately..” she shivers, rubbing away at her forearms as she steps out the car.

Her feet drag on the concrete, floor uneven as she gradually goes under the bridge.

Nose scrunched, she wonders why she picked white shoes now that she stands on the grass.

The grey clouds hid the sun, leaving the sky dull and somber.

Her eyes roamed around the deserted area in search of the woman who she promised to meet this early in the morning. She shivered like the leaves on the tall oak tree near the lake. She let the wind sway her, stretching out her upper limb and shutting her eyes as she relinquished the fresh air.

“Time flows like wind and water. Changing everything and replacing with new things,” The old woman chimes quiet, surprising the woman who flinches with wide eyes. The grandma simply smiles, wrinkly and tired eyes never leaving the water ahead,” but when love is added to the mix, no matter how many times the salt in the see tear it down, no matter how aggressively the wind blows sending it to places beyond our knowledge, it will still be there. Pieces of love will be scattered all over the place and it’ll be hard but not impossible to pick them all up.” Her grey hair frames her faces as she turns to look over at the woman who blinks numbly.

“Miss?” she asks, orbs immersed in the flow of the transparent liquid, “Who are you exactly?” she sniffs, her nose red.

She hears the old woman chuckle. “Am just an old woman helping fate take it’s course.”She looks back at the lake, a smile gracing her thin lips. “You’ll find the answer in your heart eventually, darling,”

Y/n doesn’t respond, not knowing how too. Instead, she tries to predict the movements of the water as she keeps an eye out for any fishes that might swim up to the surface.

She doesn’t know how much time passes but when she finally glances to the side with the tilt of her head, the elderly woman is nowhere to be seen.

Her deadline.

A week.

Seven days.

168 hours.

10080 minutes.

This is how she spent it.

Monday: After meeting with the mysterious lady, y/n bore herself into her thoughts all while working simultaneously. Thinking back to her words, how love could never truly disappear once you had experienced it no matter how much times or obstacles came in its way.

At least that’s what she thought the old lady was trying to get to. She bites her plastic pen, figuring that it depends on what perspective you see it from,

she barely gets any work done when she leaves the office.

She drives by the coffee shop on her way home. her eyes linger on the building, fighting with herself internally to not succumb to the urges and enter.

Just the thought of Hoseok there at midnight waiting for her is enough to make her swallow hard and blink insanely as she enters her home.

Her eyes are blank when she stares at the tv, wine glass in hand. She doesn’t spare a glance at her phone when it vibrates for the hundredth time.

She doesn't want to speak to anyone. Not when it’s past midnight.

Tuesday: She’s overwhelmed with work, barely having enough time to eat as her coworkers and boss rush her. Her stress is out the roof. Oh, how she wishes she could just be in bed snuggling with her teddy bears with the faint sound of anime in the background.

She feels bad when she passes the coffee shop knowing that Jimin is in there probably wondering why she’s been blowing off his messages.

Jimin: Did I do something wrong? Am sorry.. please answer soon.

She looks at the message that was sent yesterday. Heart heavy, she makes a promise to herself that she’ll go in tomorrow.

Wednesday: She finally calls her best friend, grimacing when the fiery woman yells in the phone and throws in a couple explicit words, hurt over the fact that she’d been ignoring her for no reason.

She smiles softly, she missed her bestie.

They make plans later that day to chill at her apartment.

When her bubbly friend arrives and asks her about what’s going on in her life she doesn’t dare mention the blood-haired man.

She listens attentively to her best friend gush over the man who she met the other day at a disk store. She tries not to gasp over the name of the man, Yoongi. Rather, she smiles larger, ignoring the heavy dullness of her heart.

It’s only when the woman mentions Jimin that y/n feels guilt eat her whole.

She had completely forgotten to go see him.

I’ll go see him tomorrow, she thinks as she eyes the clock.

11:59pm.

Thursday: The leaves dance as the wind blows, sky still grey. Y/n can’t shake off the feeling that she’s being watched when she comes out of the office. Marching fast, her eyes shoot everywhere in the parking lot in search of her car.

She smiles relieved when spotting it and decides to make a run for it. Not risking to stay any longer to find out why her stomach is twisting in terror of the unknown.

She springs, almost to her vehicle as she reaches in her bag for her keys.

She’s stopped abruptly by a painful grip on her arm.

She blinks up, heart pumping at the speed of light when she’s met with her loan shark.

“I’ll have the money soon I promise! please just give me a bit more time!” She cries out when the male snarls out a threat before letting her go.

He watches her with a smug smile when she races away to her car, tears flowing out her eyes and hands shaking of fright.

She drives straight home. Vision clouded by water, she doesn’t glance at the coffee shop.

She spends the night crying. she feels empty and realizes just how dull her life truly is. She thinks of Hoseok, all he made her feel in a short period of time he was with her.

She looks at the clock as midnight goes by.

Friday: She runs into Jimin’s arms, head falling on his chest as the boy’s eyes widen, taking clumsy steps back due to the force of the unexpected embrace.

“I didn’t mean to ignore you, Jimin!” She speaks into his chest, voice muffled by his now wrinkled white dress shirt.

“It’s okay..” He pats her head, trying his best to reassure the woman.

She stays silent still in his embrace, listening to his crazed heart like her past princess self with hoseok.

She doesn`t feel it.

She doesn`t feel ease wash over her like she -or her past self-had felt with hoseok.

It’s different.

He’s different.

He’s not Hoseok.

She blinks fast when seeing the back of a trenchcoat just walking away from the window.

she doesn't blink at all and watches with careful eyes when the man turns, exposing his profile.

The nose isn't arched like a bow, his gaze his piercing like a million arrows and his hair isn’t red like the blood that pumps through her veins.

It isn’t him.

Shuts her eyes, not understanding why she wanted him to be Hoseok.

Saturday: She spends the day at the coffee shop with Jimin, watching him the few clients that come in. Jungkook rushes in the shop, the rain completely soaking him.

“You’ll get sick you know?’ she pipe, eying the young man who shakes his hair, sending water all over the place.

“I never get sick.” he tuts and she thinks about it for a second. Nodding when she realizes that she’s in fact never seen him sick.

Jimin smiles shyly when she agrees to join him for a movie night the next day.

Sunday: your head rest on Jimin’s shoulder as you watch a movie. The blanket covering the both of you, you nuzzle yourself deeper into his embrace, not feeling uncomfortable with the boy.

You try not to smirk when the boy blushes, trying his best to focus on the tv and not the warmth radiating from your skin.

You immerse yourself in the movie. Forehead creasing as you can’t seem to understand the decisions of the main character.

You can’t but get frustrated and groan out loud when the woman on the screen continues pushing away anything and anyone who brings her happiness. You curse at the way she clings to her miserable life, throwing away every single opportunity that came her way to help her start fresh.

“Why does she keep settling for less when life clearly has more to offer if she just takes the chance!” Y/n pipes exasperated, fist balled up for some reason.

Jimin chuckles, tilting his head so it rests on hers. “I think that some people are just scared to take the jump. Life is a game of hazard. When you roll the dice it can land on the highest number just like it can land on the lowest. If you never try rolling the dice then you’ll never move from your spot.” Jimin speaks gently, coffee-colored eyes glimmering as the scenes reflect in them, he stares at your parted lips.

“You can’t be afraid of what you don’t know. Don’t be afraid to roll the dice.” he exhales, leaning in and pecking your lips quick.

Your eyes flutter shut, chasing his lips when he tries to pull away. You kiss him deeply, gripping his shirt to pull him closer.

You tear away, a string of saliva snapping when your lips leave each other.

Your eyes flicker open and meet his dazed ones. “Jimin, what time is it?

His cloudy eyes clear when hearing your voice. “I-I don’t have my phone on me.” He pats his jeans, blinking slow.” I think I might have left them on the dresser in my room.” He gets up quick put you rapidly push him back down the couch with your open palm.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it.” Your bare feet tap on his wood floor, stopping when finding his bedroom.

The door squeaks as you open it, eyes darting to the dresser. You walk over fast, jaw-dropping when realizing you only have 15 minutes left before midnight

You blast out the room, only pausing in your tracks to face an alert and confused Jimin. “How far is this place from the coffee shop?” You blurt out louder than intended, confusing the boy who stands even more.

“H-huh w-why?” His brows crease, lips screwing themselves into a frown but quickly relaxing when you peck his plump lips. “Please just tell me and don’t ask questions.”

“About 20 minutes if you walk-”

“I need to go there real quick. I know my answer thanks to you, my little fairy.” You hug him fast before bouncing out of the apartment, not even realizing that you took his phone with you but it didn’t matter because you finally knew what to do.

You finally knew your answer.

You smiled to yourself, thinking back to Jimin and the way he kissed you as you ran, hair flapping all over your face in the street that was only illuminated by the blue moon.

You finally knew your answer.

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ingloriousblasters · 6 years

Text

Second Chances (Merle x OC) AU - Chapter Ten

Synopsis: Finding herself pregnant and unwed, Nora Buckley thought she’d never return to the small town of Redwater, Georgia. Five years later, life has brought her back to the town she swore she’d never go back to. In a hurry to find a place to live and a job to provide for her daughter, Anna, Nora reluctantly takes a position at the old Dixon farm on the outskirts of town, where she meets fellow Redwater outcast, Merle Dixon. Takes place in early 1960s.

A/N: So the song that is playing in this chapter is “I Want to be Wanted” by Brenda Lee. It took me forever to find an era appropriate song that I felt was needed for this scene. Hope it’s okay. And also, I know it’s probably unlikely for two people to fit on a tractor at the same time, but let’s suspend disbelief for a little bit? Thanks for reading!

Chapter Ten

“Your total is $1.50.” Nora told the balding old man. Digging into his khaki pants, held up by navy blue suspenders, the man fished out his money and handed it over.

“Thank ya so much, Miss,” he croaked out. “I do hope we’ll be seeing more of you. Nice change from the man usually here,” he winked at her. Nora gave a polite smile and turned around to the bed of Merle’s truck and grabbed some more vegetables to restock.

After Merle’s accident, Nora took over the farming duties, including driving two towns over into Greenwood for the weekend market. It was her third weekend there and she was finally getting the hang of things. The first time, Merle came with her to give prices on items and to help setup and breakdown the stand, which turned into small arguments between the two the entire day. Merle still acted like he didn’t have a hurt wrist and Nora kept having to keep her eye on him and the customers. She forced him to stay home the next time.

When the market ended, she boxed all the unsold produce back up into Merle’s old truck and folded up the small white table. Her total haul for the day was about ten dollars, which she knew would make Merle happy.

Nora found herself enjoying her role on the farm. No longer feeling like she was intruding on Merle’s life, she felt like they were sort of partners now. The farm their responsibility. She stopped by the dairy on her way home to get a pint of ice cream for them to celebrate with after dinner that night.

Pulling up the long gravel road, Anna and King ran up the hill with the truck to greet Nora.

“Mama!” Anna shouted at her over King’s barking.

“Hi, baby,” Nora answered. She slipped out of the driver’s seat and the two of them walked together to the back of the truck. “Were ya good for Merle today?” she asked.

“Yep. I got to pick the baby tomatoes.”

Nora smiled down at her daughter. Merle was going to get anyone he could out in the those fields while he was healing. Just as her mind thought about him, the rowdy farmer appeared from the front of the truck.

“How’d ya do, darlin?” he asked, adjusting the sling around his arm. A tick Merle had developed after being stuck in the thing for only a week.

“Not bad at all,” Nora responded and told him their total. Merle let out a happy holler and gave her a one armed hug, lifting and spinning her in the air for a couple seconds. He hadn’t forgotten about the car ride home from the doctor. As much as his brain was scrambled that day, he had meant what he said. Nora was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. It just took a good bump on his head to finally admit it to himself, and accidentally her. Merle wasn’t sure if Nora remembered or not, but he didn’t have the courage to bring it up.

Nora handed Anna the bag with the ice cream in it and yelled at her to put it straight in the freezer box as the little girl ran towards the house with the German Shepherd. Merle lifted the lightest box he found and helped Nora take the unsold produce back to the barn for storage.

When they finished, Nora told Merle she was going to head back to the shed for a second and would be back up to the house. Merle nodded at her as he took count of how much produce they had left. It angered him more than anything that he couldn’t be more help to her, only being able to pick a vegetable here and there. It amazed him that Nora took it all in stride, and he was very conscious of trying to control his temper around her. His anger only came out in the barn, nicks and knife markings covering one of the wooden beams the only evidence of his frustration. Nora’s dedication to the farm was worth far too much to him to go and ruin it.

They had dinner and ice cream on the back porch later that evening and Anna fell asleep on the faded wood, her head resting on the black and tan coat of her four-legged best friend.

“Ay, Bug,” Merle called to her. “Ya still alive down there?” he didn’t get a response and Nora laughed under her breathe.

“Well, I guess we better call it a day,” she said.

Merle smiled, putting out the butt of his cigarette with his boot. “Guess so.”

Nora picked up her daughter, whispered goodnight to Merle, and headed back down the pathway to their small dwelling. The sun set quickly as they left and Merle cleaned off the back porch as best he could, threw the leftovers out for King to eat, and went inside to get ready for bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed brown fur laying on the kitchen table. A stuffed teddy bear laid on its side, its beaded eyes staring back at him. Merle looked at the thing for a few minutes. The Dixon house never had toys in it, even when he and Daryl were kids. Unless you counted the chipped pieces of wood they would use as swords. Seeing something so normal in the abnormal farmhouse gave Merle a laugh. He may have hated the memories held in these walls, but the new ones were starting to outweigh the old.

Thinking the kid would want it for bed, he picked the bear up and headed down the now darkened path to the shed. He could see a dull light coming through the front door window and stopped in his tracks a few feet away. Nora stood in the middle of the shack, unbuttoning the top of her blouse. Merle scooted over by one of the oak trees and watched as her delicate hands slid down her body, button after button, revealing her white nylon bra. His grip on the bear tightened when Nora slid the thin fabric of her blouse off her shoulders. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from her, watching her maneuver around the small room. She turned herself away from where he knew the bed sat, and reached behind to unclasp the back of her bra. When she had the band undone, a strap slowly fell off her shoulder. Merle’s mouth went dry and he felt a tightness in his pants. Before he could see anything else he turned around, heading back towards the house. He set the bear back down on the table where Anna could see it in the morning and walked to his room. Sitting on the edge of his bed, Merle nervously adjusted the sling on his arm. Flashes of Nora’s bare skin running through his mind. He rubbed a hand over his face before laying down.

Ah, Dixon, whatta ya doin? he thought to himself. Ain’t no way she’s gonna want ya.

________________________

As August drew nearer, Nora took Anna into town to register her for Kindergarten at the elementary school. Entering the double red doors, the swift odor of old wood and tangy glue filled Nora’s head with nostalgia. In this building were some of the only happy memories she had of growing up in Redwater, before her mother went off the deep end, before her father passed away, and before Rodger showed up in her life. They walked into the front office hand in hand and a woman in her early fifties with thin, gray hair looked up from her typewriter when Nora introduced themselves and asked for a form. The woman gave her a knowing look, standing up from her desk and walking over to the metallic filing cabinet to grab a registration form.

Nora took Anna over to the line of chairs near the door of the office and began filling out the paperwork. She felt the cold eyes of the secretary on her as she wrote. Anna turned around in her seat and kneeled to look out the window of the office that led to the hallway. She rested her small arms on the ledge and looked up and down at the mostly bare beige walls. At her old school the walls were covered in bright papers with drawings from her and her classmates. She wondered if she would get to draw here too. Mama had mentioned she’d be starting school soon, but that it wouldn’t be like the daycare she was at in the city. There would be less kids in her class, but more kids of all different ages. She would go all day now and even get to ride on a bus like a big kid.

As Nora continued filling out Anna’s information, she noticed the secretary walk down the hall and whisper to an unseen person. Nora’s ears perked up when she heard her last name. The secretary and her acquaintance were apparently unaware that their whispered voices still carried down the hall.

“Buckley? Are you sure?”

“Mhmm. Came right in like no one would recognize who she was,” said the secretary.

“I never thought she’d come back here, and with the child,” the mystery voice continued.

“Ya know they’ve taken up at the Dixon farm, right? God only knows what goes on there.”

“That poor child.”

Nora gripped the black ballpoint pen tightly in her fist. No matter how much she tried to avoid and ignore the gossip, it always seemed to find a way to slip into her life.

“What they talkin about Mama?” Anna asked turning back around in her seat.

“Nothing baby,” Nora said softly.

The two women appeared back in the office a few minutes later, one carrying a manilla folder and some pencils in her hand.

“Ms. Buckley,” the secretary announced. “This is Mrs. Wells, she is the school’s counselor and will need to take your daughter back for the standard screening for Kindergarten.”

“Oh, alright,” Nora replied. Anna jumped to her feet when the counselor asked if she was ready to do some exercises. The blonde tuft of curls waved back to her mother and disappeared down the hall. The old secretary went back to her desk, doing busy work while glancing over at Nora every now and then.

Not able to stand the silence or wandering eyes sitting in the office, Nora excused herself to the bathroom. She walked up and down the hallways, her heels echoing off the plaster walls. She wished the testing was done already, but not because she was worried for Anna. She knew her daughter was as smart as a whip and get on just fine at school. It was just frustrating having to hear the quiet rumours about living with Merle. Not once did he ever lay a hand on or raise his voice at Anna. It was quite the opposite, Nora thought, Merle doted on Anna. Whether he would admit to that or not was another question.

It angered Nora that the people in this town only thought of him as nothing more than a mirror image of his father. They didn’t know that his brother was his best friend, even though they quarreled often. They didn’t know about the willow tree he used to hide in to escape his father’s abuse. And they never saw how his blue eyes lit up whenever he talked about the farm. A smile formed on Nora's lips as she thought about those eyes, bringing a small comfort to the rambling going on in her head.

“Excuse me, Miss,” the counselor called bringing Nora out of her thoughts. Nora turned around at the voice to see the woman standing in front of her with Anna at her side. “Your daughter did very well. She should be all set to start in a couple weeks.” Anna grinned widely at her mother and hopped over to her side.

“Great,” Nora replied. “Thank you.” She grabbed Anna’s hand and they walked out of the brick building into the sunlight. Both ready to head back to the farm after spending all day in town.

________________________

Before they knew it, the first day of school arrived. Anna woke up before Nora and was bouncing off the walls with excitement. It took Nora ten minutes longer to brush through and tie her daughter’s hair back for her first day. They had gone into town the week before and picked up a couple of new dresses for Anna, who decided to wear a navy blue dress with capped sleeves today. When she was all dressed, Anna sprinted up to the house for breakfast.

“Merle!” She screamed running into the kitchen. “I’m going to school today!”

Merle smiled at her over his coffee mug from his seat at the table. The kid’s smile was infectious, even at seven in the morning. His gaze moved from Anna to Nora, who walked in the door a few seconds later. Adjusting his sling, he smiled at her as she closed the kitchen door. Merle was itching to get out of the thing and wasn’t expecting it to take this long. He was dying to get back into his fields. After the tractor incident, Daryl had reached out to one of his customers who had mentioned he had a tractor he needed to get rid of. Apparently it wasn’t the newest John Deere model, but it wasn’t the rusted old piece of metal that almost crushed Merle to death. Daryl was stopping by later that day to bring it over.

Nora made them some eggs and toast for breakfast, while fixing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Anna’s lunch. Anna washed up in the bathroom and Nora checked her watch.

“Well we better get outside for the bus,” Nora told her. As time ticked closer, they both notice Anna became quiet. Slowly, the five year old got up from the wooden chair, suddenly the realization of going somewhere different finally hitting her. Nora handed her the purple tin box that held her lunch and Anna tiptoed towards the hallway when Merle held his good arm out, gently grabbing Anna’s sleeve and turning her to face him

“Don’t ya worry, Bug,” he told her warmly, and winked at her brining a smile to her face. Anna wrapped her arms around Merle’s stomach and walked down the hallway a little more confidently with Nora following behind. They walked down the gravel drive, King joining them, and waited for the school bus. Within a few minutes, the faint hum of a large engine caught their ears and the yellow machine appeared from the over the hill. As the bus drew nearer, the whispered conversation at the school a couple weeks before entered Nora’s head.

“Uh, listen baby,” she said bending down to Anna’s height and fixing her dress. “You may hear things around school about us, but I want you to know it has nothing to do with you, alright? You didn’t do anything wrong and don’t let anyone make you think you did.” Anna squinted her eyes, not quite fully understanding as the bus pulled up in front of them. “People like to talk about me, but I don’t want you to worry about it. You go get on that bus and make some friends and I’ll be waiting for ya when you come home, okay?”

“Ok, Mama,” Anna replied. She gave Nora a hug and started walking up the large steps of the bus. Turning around, Anna waved at her mother and then yelled goodbye to Merle. Nora turned her head around to see him standing at the edge of the wrap around porch, leaning against one the wooden beams. She hadn’t notice him come out, and watched him nod in response to Anna’s words.

When the bus kicked into gear and left a dusty path in its wake, Nora walked back up the hill towards the house and wiped at the tears that formed in the corner of her eyes. She didn’t think she would get that emotional over Anna starting school, but emotions were a funny thing. Meeting Merle on the front porch she forced a smile on her face looking at him.

“She’ll be fine,” Merle told her, leaving his spot from the porch and walking over to the front door.

“I know,” Nora nodded her head. “I just didn’t think it would hit me so hard.”

“Does it make ya want another one?” he asked holding the screen door open for her. “Heard that happens sometimes.”

Nora laughed lightly at his question. No one had ever asked her that before, most likely do to the fact that she was a single mother. She stared at the deserted road in front of them while thinking it over.

“Maybe,” she said with a sniff. “With the right person.” Nora ducked under Merle’s arm holding the screen door to get back inside. Merle didn’t follow her in the house, instead walking with King to the fields. Though he still couldn’t do much to help, just walking on the soil and being surrounded by the lush green crops helped ease his mind. Walking the rows, he would bend down every now and then, using his good hand to pick at a stray weed.

Not able to think of anything but Anna, Nora decided to clean the house to keep her mind busy. She spent the morning on the first floor and had just made her way up the staircase to the second. The spare bedroom on the right was littered with papers, books, and random household items that had seen better days. An old radio sat at the top of a bookshelf and Nora grabbed the pale blue rectangle and searched for an outlet. Plugging the cord in, a wave a static filled the small room. Turning the silver dial, the white noise was replaced with a monotone voice listing off the days news followed by the frantic screech of a man preaching the word of god. Nora fiddled with the dial until the aching melody of Brenda Lee’s voice filled the air.

When I am kissed I want his lips to really kiss me When we're apart I want his heart to really miss me I want to know he loves me so his eyes are misting That's the way, I want to be loved

Nora wandered around the room, deciding where to start first. She walked towards the window that faced out towards the fields, opening the ragged curtains to allow some sunlight into the room. She was about to turn away when Merle caught her eye. Nora watched him wander through the fields, King at his side. In his usual wife beater, he adjusted the strap of his arm sling before bending down to pick a deep red tomato. His sun kissed arm flexed as he pulled the bulb from the vine and inspected it before taking a bite. His strong, stubbled jaw moved slowly as he savored the sweet taste. Nora watched as his thick body continued to maneuver through the vines, admiring the way his jeans hugged his thighs and bottom when he bent down again.

Oh god Nora, stop ogling she thought, but couldn’t turn her eyes away. Merle fascinated her. His rough exterior hiding his kindness from the outside world. Nora thought about all the times he came to her aid since she’d been here and how he treated Anna almost as if she were his own child. She felt a warmth run through her body. The same warmth she felt in the car ride home from the doctor. Merle had called her beautiful and she wanted to know if he meant it. She hoped he had meant it she admitted to herself.

I want someone to share my laughter and my tears with Someone I know I'd love to spend a million years with Where is this someone somewhere meant for me

As if he knew he was being watched, Merle turned his head towards the house, his eyes scanning the old building and Nora scooted away from the window like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar. She walked to the opposite side of the room where papers laid scattered on the floor and picked them up. Going through them she started to organize them into a trash and keep pile. When she had a good amount of keep papers, she scanned the area to find an empty space to place them.

The bottom drawer of a small desk hidden in the corner was stuck halfway open. Nora went to jiggle it free, but being caught on an angle, the drawer was not budging. She tugged one more time when it finally slipped out and a scrunched up sepia toned paper came with it. Nora unfolded the paper and saw an image of two boys. A crease ran down the middle of one boy with short cropped hair. He was hanging from a tree in a light colored shirt, probably no older than five and a hint of a smile on his face. However, it was the older boy that caught Nora’s attention. He wasn’t much older than twelve, barefoot and shirtless, baggy overalls covered his body. A familiar looking scowl set on the young man’s face and a mass of dark curls covered his head. He leaned against the tree, unimpressed and with folded arms. There was no denying the familiar glare in the boy’s eyes as Nora brought a hand to her mouth and stared at the younger Merle.

Her first thought was how adorable he was, given the stern look. A thin ringlet of hair brushed against his left eye and it reminded her of Anna’s hair. God, our kids would have the curliest hair on the planet. Nora’s eyes widened as the thought passed through her mind and she set the photo down in the drawer, along with her organized stack of papers, and closed it. She walked back towards the window to see if Merle was still watching the house, like he could read her mind and knew what she was thinking, but she couldn’t see him anywhere. He must have gone into the barn. The sound of squealing brakes brought Nora out of her train of thought and she glanced at her watch. She was surprised at how fast the day had gone by and hurried down the staircase to greet her daughter back from school.

Shortly after Anna arrived home, a red tractor appeared from down the road. Soon the mess of hair that was Daryl came into view as he rode the tractor up the hill of the front yard and back towards the barn.

“Well, here she is,” he told Merle shutting the engine off and hopping down.

“Mm.” Merle responded. As much as his old tractor was a piece of shit, it was his piece of shit and he wasn’t the biggest fan of change. It also didn’t help that he only had one good arm at the moment. They left the tractor to go inside for a late dinner, all four sitting at the table listening intently as Anna talked about her first day of school. She had made a new friend name Carly, whose family took over the bookstore last year.

When they finished, they all walked back outside to look at the new machine, while Merle carefully climb into the driver’s seat. The cushioned bottom was a far cry from the curved seat of metal from the old tractor. This one even had a back to the seat. Merle rested against it while running his hand over the black steering wheel. Maybe this one wouldn’t be so bad. His eyes roamed over all the different levers and gears before glancing up at his audience. He noticed Nora’s lips curved halfway up in a smile as she watched him. She and Anna walked up to the new tractor looking it over.

“Watch out for them rippers back there, Bug” Merle called over his shoulder to Anna as she walked around to the back of the tractor.

“I will,” she acknowledged, staying far away from the row of long, sharp pieces of metal attached.

“So ya ready for your lesson?” He turned his head back around towards Nora, who looked up at him in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Come on darlin, as far as anyone knows I’m outta commission for the foreseeable future and I need these fields dug so we can plant more seeds.” Merle rested his arm against the steering wheel waiting in the silence for Nora’s reply.

“Alright, fine.” she agreed and walked towards the tractor, standing near the step waiting for Merle to get up. “Aren’t you moving?” she asked.

“I ain’t letting ya drive this thing alone.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Nora folder her arms.

“Climb on up.”

“What?!” Nora remarked incredulously. “Merle, there’s no room!”

Sitting up straighter in the seat, Merle spread his legs out further creating a small pocket of space between them. “Sure there is.” he replied.

Nora glared at him, wondering if this was a joke. She looked around to make eye contact with Daryl, but he had been whisked off by Anna who wanted to show him all her school supplies back in the house. Nora stood frozen in place not sure what to do. Part of her wanted to climb up. But the other part of her, the part she tried not to acknowledge, was flustered at the idea of practically sitting on Merle’s lap.

“This doesn’t seem very safe, ya know?"

“Only got so much daylight left, darlin. Ya gonna let my fields die or not?” Merle hollered.

Nora’s eyes turned to slits as she took the first step up on the tractor while Merle gave her a toothy grin. Making sure to watch out for his bad arm, Nora squeezed herself between the steering wheel and Merle. Smoothing out the denim jeans she was accustomed to wearing now, Nora held her breath and slowly sank down on the sliver of seat visible between Merle’s long legs. Immediately, she felt the warmth radiating from his body on her back. Merle tucked his bad arm close to him and sat up straighter on the seat to give Nora some more room. She glanced back at him, her concerned eyes reiterating her statement only a couple minutes ago.

“We’ll be fine, darlin. Just gonna drive for a couple minutes, ain’t like I’m asking ya to plough the whole field.”

Trusting Merle, Nora turned back around. “This is just like driving your truck, right?” she asked.

“Almost,” Merle replied finally getting situated. “‘Cept this thing’s got a little more bells and whistles to it.” He pointed around Nora’s body to a gold key. “Right there’s ya ignition.” Then pointed down. “Here’s ya clutch and brake, and over there is the gear shift. This thing here’s the draft control for the ripper and controls the depth for even ploughing.”

Nora nodded her head taking it all in. Merle shifted the gear into neutral and told her whenever she was ready to release the break, press down on the clutch, and start the ignition. The tractor came to life and Merle quickly placed his hand on Nora’s thigh to balance himself. The engine lurched them forward down the long field. Nora tried to focus solely on driving, and tucked her hair behind her ear to keep from blowing in the wind, and Merle received a pleasant aroma of strawberries in his face.

“Ya can press down on the clutch some to switch gears if ya want,” he patted her leg to get her attention over the loud humming of the engine. Nora nodded her head that she understood and they picked up a little speed, distancing themselves from the house. Her body was on fire, the result of a culmination between the summer heat, the vibrations of the tractor, and Merle’s strong body jostling behind her. She bit her lip as she came to the end of the row and Merle rubbed her leg again, instructing her on how to tightly turn the machine back around. As he talk closely to her ear, Nora could feel his husky voice travel through her whole body like the burning warmth of alcohol.

Satisfied in what he saw, Merle let her park the tractor and turn off the ignition and throttle. “Ya did good.” he said.

“Thanks,” Nora muttered as her nervous eyes wandered. The sun had begun setting on their little test drive, casting the sky in a light pink hue with soft hints of orange tucked behind the clouds over the fields. “Oh, wow” she exclaimed as she took in the scenery. Merle followed her gaze and looked at the beautiful expanse as well.

“Yeah,” he agreed in a whisper. A few moments later his hand that was on her thigh travelled up and slowly started stroking her arm. Nora did not deny his advances. His touch prickled her skin with goosebumps and Nora held her breath as she felt him move closer to her, his nose brushing over the side of her neck. She leaned into his caress and Merle’s arm wrapped around her waist, bringing her closer to him.

“Merle?” Nora’s quivering voice called out. She had to know if this all was real or if she was just imagining everything.

“Yeah?” he answered, his hand still firmly wrapped around her waist.

Nora lowered her head, she didn’t have enough confidence to look at him while she asked him the question that had continuously been on her mind. “Uh, do you… do you remember the ride home from the doctor? After you hurt your wrist? You were kinda-”

“I meant it,” Merle cut her off knowing exactly what she was bringing up. He felt her body exhale the long breathe she had been holding.

“You did?” she asked. Nora’s voice was low and her head still bent. She couldn’t bear to look into those blue eyes, afraid they might somehow betray the words Merle had just spoken. Merle removed his arm from her waist and his hand moved under her chin, gently nudging her face up so he could look at her. Nora bit her lip, lifting her eyes slowly to meet his, and Merle nodded his head. The setting sun reflected in his eyes, illuminating the tiniest hints of yellow buried within the blue, and Nora knew he wasn’t lying. Merle leaned his head closer to Nora and she felt her heartbeat pick up. Her eyes watched his lips as they came closer to her own and she closed her eyes with anticipation.

“Hey Merle!” Daryl yelled from yard separating the fields from the house. Jumping, the voice startled both Merle and Nora, popping the intimate bubble they had found themselves in. Merle closed his eyes in frustration.

“Yeah?” he screeched back, craning his neck around to give his brother the ugliest scowl he could muster up at the moment.

“The doc’s on the phone. Wants ta make an appointment with ya ta get them stitches out.”

#merle dixon #merle x OC #merle dixon fanfiction #michael rooker fanfic #walking dead au #second chances #dixons #Dixon Brothers #long chapter

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dis-easedfairy · 6 years

Text

Impulsive Decision Pt.5

Male Path | Female Path

Chapter 5: Should’ve Walked Away

WARNINGS: SWEARING/STRONG LANGUAGE | KIDNAPPING | MENTIONS OF RAPE | DRUGGING

Genre: Poly!au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, yandere!au

Pairings: BTS x Male Reader/ Kim Taehyung x Male Reader / Kim Seokjin x Male Reader / Jung Hoseok x Male Reader / OC x Male Reader

Word Count: 4,157

Summary: M/n is the owner of a very wealthy and successful company, Barnanby Inc. M/n attends a BTS show, since they happen to be a fan. They make a very impulsive decision to show a loophole in BTS’s security and end up kidnapping BTS and 2 girls. In a fit of panic M/n stashes BTS and the girls in a very luxurious bunker for the time being, but M/n’s world slowly starts to crumble the longer the boys are out of the public’s eye,

A/N: I may or may not have added one of my fav childhood memories in here.

I woke up on my back with someone pressed against my chest. Their arms wrapped around my waist, face in my chest. It felt nice, yes, but they had their legs intertwined with mine, locking me down. The zip-up hoodie I was wearing last night was opened for some reason.

I looked down at the mess of dark hair and knew who it was almost instantly. I looked around the room and we were the only ones there.

“Uh, Tae? Can I go pee?” I chucked.

Tae shook his head sleepily. Since I seemed to have no choice I began to run my hands through his hair. I swear I thought Tae was too pure for this world sometimes.

The double door opened, revealing Hobi, he saw me and smiled.

“Jin wanted me to wake you two up.” He explained.

I pointed to Tae, “I’m awake at least.” I giggled.

Hobi walked over to the bed.

“Hold onto the headboard.” I did as told.

Hobi grabbed onto Tae’s feet and pulled. Tae groaned and held onto me tighter.

“Taehyung, it’s time to let the poor boy go!” Hobi grunted as he pulled more.

“Come back later!” Tae complained, not letting his grip on me loosen.

“It’s 8AM you woke up with us at 6! It is later!”

“5 more minutes!”

“We gave you two hours to hog Y/n, now you can’t be selfish!”

“He was asleep it doesn’t count!”

“You cuddled him all night!”

I started laughing at their ridiculous argument. All the noise made Jin and RM come into the room.

“YAH! You’re going to rip M/n in half!” Jin tried yelling at them but was drowned out by their continuous arguing.

I was starting to laugh so hard I was almost crying. Hobi and Tae were not stopping the harmless bickering, Jin was trying to yell at them, RM was facepalming at the door and I could see the others approaching. What a start to the day.

“Jesus, you guys.” Jungkook was fighting a smile.

Jin got onto the bed and tried to pry Tae off of me as Hobi continued to pull, the yelling never stopping.

“YAH! LET HIM GO! HE’S NOT A STUFFED ANIMAL, TAEHYUNG!”

“STOP BEING GREEDY HE’S OUR FRIEND TOO!”

“HE WAS MY FRIEND FIRST, I HAVE A PLUSH TO PROVE IT!”

“WE’RE HIS FRIENDS BECAUSE HE SAID SO!”

“WHY DID YOU ONLY GET A PLUSHIE!?”

“BECAUSE I ASKED FOR ONE!”

“WE DON’T NEED PLUSHIES TO VALIDATE OUR FRIENDSHIP!”

“LALALALALALALALA! I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER MY PLUSHIE VALIDATED FRIENDSHIP!”

I was so close to peeing myself. I let go of the headboard because I was laughing too hard, making Tae and I get dragged off the bed by Hobi. My back was against the cold concrete, Tae was still holding on for dear life.

“I ALMOST PEED!” I cried in laughter covering my face.

“YOU DIDN’T EVEN LET HIM USE THE RESTROOM WHEN HE WOKE UP!?” This wasn’t stopping.

I sat up so my back was pressed against the bed. My eyes blinded with tears. Tae sat beside me and pulled me into his lap as everyone kept arguing.

“WHY ARE YOU SO HANDSY WITH M/N ANYWAY!? HE’S NOT YOURS!”

“Why is this an argument?” I heard Jimin.

“I just wanted to use the restroom!” I managed.

“No! You’re staying with me!” Tae commanded, tightening his hold on me.

“I’ll pee on your lap!” I threatened.

Tae immediately let go and I ran to the bathroom.

I typed up a proposal on the office computer. I stood and began to pace the room, reciting the speech, editing as I saw fit.

“I believe Barnaby Inc. is ready for this….Amazing? No that’s too predictable. Wonderful? Nah that will just make them think of our melon drink. Spectacular? Why am I overthinking this?” I plopped into my office chair.

I heard a knock at the door.

“Come in!” I hollered, moving to edit my speech.

“Lunch time!” I sighed as Jin came in with a tray.

It had two glasses of lemonade, two bottles of water, two bags of chips, two sandwiches and two small bowls of mixed berries.

“Jin, I really need to-”

“Nope! Lunch, then work. How much water have you drank today?”

“Uh, a bottle this morning and a bottle when I came in here.” I began typing.

“Aish, you need to take better care of yourself, M/n.” Jin sat down at the front of my desk.

“I know, it’s just when I get into the flow of things, I don’t stop until I’m satisfied. ” I defended myself, getting a berry.

“You’ve been working a lot lately. The drawing, the games, visiting the company almost every day now. Are you usually this busy?”

I nodded, “Especially now with the partnership. I’ve been trying to get this for months. My father tried for years. After gaming, we move to snacks and beverages and from there we find something else if we’re not content. ”

“You said you had siblings, a family? Who’s in it?” Jin asked as I bit into my sandwich.

“My older brother and sister are twins, they’re 26 or so. My older sister has two boys, one is 4 the other is a few months now. My older brother has no children, but a wife. I have a younger sister who is 16, When she turns 18, we should have expanded to snacks then and she’ll run that side of the business. My mother is a retired animator, but she still goes into the company every once and a while to help out our current animators, they love her so we let her. I think that’s everyone.”

“No aunts, uncles?”

“I do, but I rarely talk to them. My mom calls my aunt from my father’s side every once in a while but they usually stay away because they think we let money, fame and work control us. They think we’re snobby assholes to be precise.”

“Why would they think that?”

“My father was doubted by everyone, so he told them once he made his empire, no one got rights to it but him. his wife and his children. They didn’t listen until my father hit big and they wanted cuts. When my father denied them, they started talkin’ shit.” I munched on a chip.

“Your father was very…”

“Spiteful? Proud?”

“Smart.” I smirked.

“I guess so. He was a workaholic like me. ”

“Is that why he gave you the company and not your older siblings?”

“My brother is really great. He’s smart, he’s a smooth talker, He can change your opinion on something if you’re left alone with him for longer than 4 minutes. He’s well educated when he argues with someone, he makes sure he knows what he’s talking about. I felt like my brother earned it, but my father said he saw more of himself in me.”

“Because you're caring?”

“Because I take risks no one should. Hence the little problem I’m in now. Because I throw myself into whatever I can to just forget the world around me. I used to be bold. Charming, but now I’m an interesting as a smudge on your cell phone.” I popped a berry in my mouth.

“That’s not true! How many people can say they kidnapped idols!?”

“Jin, that’s not something to be proud of.”

“I bet you are twice as interesting as all of us.”

“I’m really not, but I’m not going to ruin your hopes and dreams. Just have low expectations of me is all I ask.”

“No-”

“So when I exceed those expectations, you’ll be happier.”I added quickly.

Jin smiled, seeming satisfied as he bit into his sandwich. I opened his chips for him and got my bottle of water.

“Do I gwet a purush?” Usually, I’d be a little annoyed at someone talking to me with their mouths full, but Jin made it seem so adorable.

I smiled, “Wanna run that by me again, Jinnie?”

I saw his cheeks turn a little red. He swallowed.

“D-do I get a plush?” He repeated.

“Oh! I totally forgot! Sure you can! They should be in the entrance room, in the big storage closet.” I picked up the glass of lemonade.

“Thank you for making me lunch, Jin. I really appreciate it. I just wished the other boys saw me the way you, Tae and Hobi do.”

“Just be yourself. I’m sure they’ll come around.”

I slid into the bathroom, grabbed a towel and climbed on top of the couch. I tied the towel around my neck as a cape.

“I AM ON MY WAY!” I sang obnoxiously as I jumped onto the chair.

“I CAN GO THE DISTANCE!” I belted.

“I DON’T CARE HOW FA-OH FUCK!” The chair fell to the side, a higher power deciding I was unworthy of balance and gravity.

I hit the floor with a thud. Just staring up at the ceiling. Basking in my shame. I heard giggling and I looked over to see Jimin standing by the dining room table, as red as apple he was holding. Like he was trying not to laugh.

“Annnnd reputation ruined.” I sighed, looking up at the ceiling, I tried to sit up but a sharp pain shot up my tailbone.

I whined and did the first thing I can think of.

“JIN! I THINK I BROKE MY ASS! I REQUEST DEMI-GOD ASSISTANCE!” I cried out, causing Jimin to finally break.

I’ve only seen him laugh that hard in videos, but to see it in real life was drastically different, it lit up the whole room and I didn’t want it to stop.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?” Jin yelled back, from the gaming room I assumed.

“I FAILED TO GO THE DISTANCE! I HAVE A CAPE, YOU CAN’T DENY ME! HOBI I’M DYING!” I heard footsteps come down the hall and Jin stopped in the doorway when he saw Jimin.

Jimin was borderline crying, doubled over, clutching his stomach.

“WHY IS MY BOYFRIEND DYING FROM A BROKEN ASS??” I heard Tae shout from the bedrooms.

“THE CAPE BETRAYED ME, BABE! YOU ONLY LIKED ME FOR MY ASS ANYWAY!” I called back.

Jimin fell to the floor.

“I ACCIDENTALLY KILLED JIMIN AS WELL! ” I added.

Tae and Hobi walked in and saw Jimin on the floor.

“This is all your fault!” I pointed at Jin.

“You just had to pull me away from my work!” I joked.

“How was I supposed to know a sandwich would make you break your ass!?” He countered.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, when did you make him a sandwich!?” Tae demanded.

“For lunch, he was in his office all morning, he wouldn’t have eaten otherwise.”

“Who said you can give our boyfriend sandwiches!?” Hobi called Jin out.

“OUR boyfriend!? Since when am I sharing!?” Tae turned on Hobi.

“No one’s sharing anything if my ass is destroyed.” I grumbled.

“Jimin, are you alive?” Jin laughed.

Jimin shook his head, still laughing/crying.

“Hobi, can you help me up?” I looked down at my lap to hide my embarrassment.

“Sure thing N/n.” Hobi chuckled, picking me up and I hissed in pain.

“Want me to rub your ass later?” Tae laughed.

“Oh hell yes.” I joked, trying to stand straight.

Hobi kneeled down suddenly and threw me over his shoulder causing me to let out a small squeak, making V and Jin laugh.

“HOBI! What the fuck!? Warning next time!”

I sat lounged the couch, typing on my laptop. My feet were on Hobi’s lap, Jin was in the chair beside me and Tae was sitting in front of the couch. Seongmi, RM, and Jimin were on the couch by Jin, their backs facing the kitchen and Suga, Jungkook and Linza were on the couch with their backs facing the dining room.

The coffee table was full of cards from a very long round of Uno that never seemed to end. Every time someone would get close, the person beside the would get a +4 wildcard and you’d hear screams of heartbreak and anguish. Hobi began to rub my leg, I assumed he didn’t realize he was going it, so I tried to focus on my speech, hoping I’d zone out. An alarm went off on my laptop, it read ‘Call Seth’. I sighed, closing the laptop.

“I have to make a call, I’ll be right back.” I smiled and left to make a call in between the dial door and vault door.

Once Seth didn’t pick up I’d figure I’d call later. I went back through the dial door and was on my way to the living room when I saw something out of my peripheral vision.

Linza was sitting on the large bed, just waiting. I just stuck my phone in my hoodie and kept walking, I didn’t need the drama.

“Hey, M/n.” She called as I opened the door.

Luckily Jin heard her, stopping the game to look at the door. I sighed.

“Yes, Linza?”

She smiled. She lied back propped on her elbows.

“Are you really into girls or is that just speculation?”

“Seriously, I’d rather be working on my speech than talking about my sexual orientation, no offense.” I began to leave but was stopped by her voice again.

“Come here, I want to tell you a secret.”

“No thanks. I’m sure that if I get near you, you’ll try something.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Why the fuck would I?”

She frowned like she was trying to be cute.

“Aww c’mon, N/n, we can be friends ya know.” She got up from the bed, grabbed my wrist and started to pull me to the bed.

“Don’t call me N/n. I don’t want your friendship.” I tried to pull away.

“If you do me this small thing I’ll get you in Jimin’s good graces.”

“No. I don’t care if I’m liked or not. Stop touching me and stop whatever you’re planning.” She ignored me, sitting on the bed.

I used my other hand to try to pry away her grip on my wrist, she thought ahead and grabbed my other hand and yanked me on the bed.

“What the fuck are you do-!?” She pinned me down a smirked.

My eyes widened as she began to lean more towards my face.

“Hey! What the fuck?” I moved my face.

“Aw, M/n don’t be like that, it’s only a kiss.”

“Get the fuck off me, Ducktape Girl!” I growled.

She went to grab for the zipper on my hoodie. I smacked her hand away and tried moving more towards the headboard. Where the fuck was Jin!? She grabbed a fist full of my hair and I raised my hands to pull hers away by instinct. This gave her an opening to attack my mouth. I pressed my lips together as fast as I could. When she pulled away slightly I snapped.

“Get the fuck off me!” I almost shouted, shoving her away, making her land on the floor.

She yelped as I wiped my mouth, disgusted that it was wet with spit. The boys came rushing in. Seongmi immediately climbed on the bed to check on me.

“What happened?” RM asked.

“Ducktape Girl just tried to makeout with me.” I was still disgusted to my core.

“Yeah, right.” Jungkook scoffed.

“Jungkook, look at him! His lips are swollen, his hair is a mess. He’s on the bed. We heard him tell her to not touch him! We thought she’d stop! Why are you defending her!?” Seongmi snapped, surprising me.

Jimin let out a loud sigh, running his hand through his hair.

“No! He kissed me! I was just trying to talk to him!” Linza cried.

“Tae, Jin, Hobi, Seongmi?…Can we just go to sleep or to the studio?” I asked in a small voice.

“No! We can’t let this slide, M/n! She get’s away with too much because she just bats her eyes and pretends to cry! She’s not nice! She’s hardly a victim! I get M/n made a very bad decision, but he gives us anything we want, he helps feed us, he provides entertainment, we use almost every room in this bunker! All he asks is for personal space! Ducktape her!” Seongmi ranted.

“Seon-” She cut me off.

“You don’t deserve the doubt! You’ve been nothing but kind and understanding! It’s always her that spreads the seeds of doubt!” I could tell Seongmi wasn’t calming down anytime soon.

“Seongmi, calm down.” I soothed her.

“She’s just going to get away with this, M/n! Don’t let yourself take all these hits because you feel guilty for driving away in the limo and hiding us here!” Seongmi pleaded with tears in her eyes.

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close. She buried her face in my chest.

“Shh, it’s okay, none of these ‘hits’ affect me.” I lied, petting her hair.

“She’s just afraid and angry at me. I would be too if I was kidnapped the way you all were.” She shook her head rapidly.

I looked over at Tae. He only nodded and got on the bed, hugging Seongmi too. I tried to pull away but she held on tighter.

“Seongmi, I still have to talk to everyone else about this.” I smiled sadly.

“There’s nothing to talk about. They’ll just believe her no matter what you say. ” She whimpered.

She was right, but it would be wrong to not explain my side at all. I bent down slowly and gave her a faint kiss on the top of her head.

“That’s okay, because I know the truth, and my friends believe me.”

“Ducktape pillar!” Jin suddenly shouted, making us all jump.

Slowly began to pull away from Seongmi and got off the bed. I let out a deep breath,

“I didn’t kiss her, she tried to kiss me after she got me close enough to the bed to pin me down. After her attempted kiss I shoved her off. I’m sorry, I should’ve just kept walking.” I walked past them all and went to the fridge.

There was no booze. I let out a deep sigh.

“I’m going on a beer run.”

I walked from the 7-Eleven, beers in the bags. I should’ve just gone home. I should’ve just…kept walking. I saw a guy sitting in the alleyway alone. I was pretty close to a popular club in Seoul, so I assumed he must have stumbled out. I couldn’t leave him alone, right?

I put the bag down and crouched down beside him, he was barely awake. I pulled out my phone and dialed the police. If I took him, I’d be kidnapping…again. I wanted him to be safe, not alone and vulnerable. Music was muffled and poured out the club as the phone rang.

“Yes, this isn’t much of an emergency, but a guy is alone and passed out in an alley, I don’t want to just leave him here…Should I take him to the station, or?” I was told to take him to the main street and a patrol car would be there shortly.

“Hello, I’m M/n L/n. I’m going to get you to the police okay? It’s dangerous for you to be out here alone.” I smiled softly.

He returned a smile.

“You’re cute.” He slurred, making my face heat up.

I cleared my throat.

“Let’s get you to the road, okay? Hongdae in full swing, it really isn’t safe.” I put his arm around my shoulders and lifted him up.

Hongdae was a district and Seoul that I shouldn't even have gone to. I was just clearing my head, driving. I ended up downtown and I should’ve stayed at the top of Seoul.

I got him on the main road, I was surprised he even got that far. He leaned on me as we waited. He almost puked a few times. He was giggly and kept calling me ‘cutie’, but I wrote it off as him being drunk. He talked about the ‘pretty lights’ and I kept asking him to describe them to keep him busy. Once the patrol car was close they flashed the lights. I helped him in the back seat and sent him on his way.

I’d figure I’d go to that club for a drink since I forgot my beers when I picked up that guy. I should’ve walked away. I should’ve gone back to the bunker that night.

I pulled up Jason’s number in my phone as my back was pressed against the cold tile wall. Luckily, the bathroom was empty, but you could hear the loud music muffled. I groaned loudly once ‘Blood, Sweat & Tears’ began to play. The phone began to ring,

“M/n? Why are you calling me so late? It’s nearly 2am. Shouldn’t you be with, your, uh, guests?”

“I just wanted ONE drink, but some guys offered me shots, and their friends who are girls even bought me drinks, Everyone was so nice. I think I found us a friend group!”

“Are you drunk, M/n? You stick in the mud! Why didn’t you invite me!?” He laughed.

I smiled, “I didn’t plan any of th-” The bathroom door opened and a guy from earlier came in, handing me a glass.

“What’s that?” I ask him.

“Just drink it, you’ll like it!” He promised, sounding oddly sober.

“Okay, I get I’m a foreigner, but like, you still need to explain what you give me.”

“This doesn’t have a different name anywhere else though!” He whined, making me sigh and hold out my hand.

He beamed, handing the glass to me, his smile getting bigger once I slammed it down in one go. It tasted like whiskey, which made me a bit disappointed.

“Thank you! I’ll be out in a bit.” I sang.

“Who are you talking to?” He frowned.

“My best friend, he’s sad that I didn’t invite him.”

“Just don’t take too long, okay?”

“Will do!” He left the bathroom.

“Where are you?” Jason asked, sudden seriousness in his voice.

“Are you joining us!?” I asked excitedly.

“Just tell me where you are, M/n, now.” I heard a glass door, he was coming from the office.

I didn’t like his tone. I began to pull myself up, using the sink and praying I didn't snap the sink off the wall. I gave him the name of the nightclub. I thought maybe something happened to him and he needed me. I walked across the bathroom and opened the door, music flooding in.

“Stay in the area, M/n. I’ll be there as soon as I can!” I heard his car door close before he hung up.

I frowned and made my way through the crowd. The people buying me drinks spotted me. 2 guys, 3 girls.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Guy #1 asked.

“My friend needs me tonight, sorry! Give me your names and I’ll take care of your tabs.” Guy #2 shook his head.

“Stay with us! You’ll have fun we promise!” Girl #3 yelled over the music.

I shook my head, “My best friend comes first! I’ve known him since I was 8. He needs me!”

“He’ll understand if you stay in the club though, right? If you go out there alone, it will be dangerous!” Girl #1 warned.

“Yeah! Just stay here, stick with us!” Girl #2 smiled.

Why were they so hell bent on me staying with them? They didn’t even know me. I shook my head.

“I’ll catch you all later.” I said began to walk away.

Guy #2 grabbed my wrist.

“Just stay, please!” He called over the music.

Now I was a little put-off. I should’ve walked away from them regardless.

“Listen, it was fun. I’ll pay for your tabs and everything, but I just need to leave!”

“We’ll come with you! We shouldn’t leave you alone.” I agreed to the terms Guy #1 set up.

I just needed to leave. Each step I took seemed lighter and lighter. Guy #2 held onto my arm as we walked out. Once the cold air from outside hit me, I felt dizzy and my vision blurred slightly. Guy #2 kept walking, somehow holding up my weight.

“I’m not accepting hard liquor from you guys anymore. That last drink was too strong.” I complained, moving away from Guy #2.

Even though I was starting to get nauseated, a little dizzy, and my vision was seeming to blur at random, I was still in an amazing mood, giggling and laughing as Girl #3 would attempt to joke. After a while, I was willingly walking around with them. I even took out my phone to take pictures because the store signs and lights seemed so much more bright and colorful.

After that was a blur. I don’t remember anything, but I recorded several things on my phone. Somethings that were now evidence. Somethings that I didn’t even record.

If I had to choose between ‘Remember Everything’ or ‘Remember Nothing’ I would rather not know.

I should’ve walked away. Three times that night.

( Previous Chapter ) - ( Next Chapter )

#bts fanfic #bts x male reader #bts poly au #bts ot7 x reader #bts angst #kim taehyung x reader #kim seokjin x reader #jung hoseok x reader #bts yandere au

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shadesxofxblack · 6 years

Text

@emilybrooksrpworld [Closed Starter]

“The Death of a Bachelor”

Giving the man a pat on the back for a job well done, he handed him a wad of $100 dollar bills with a smile and said, “You just remember, champ. Spread the word. If I stop comin’ around for at least 3 months, it’s time to start Project Snowball.”

The pimp smiled with his gold-capped tooth gleaming from the reflection of the street light. “Yeah, my brutha! You got it! We got yer back, Angelus. You just keep those dollar signs comin’ and we got a deal.”

The vampire smirked, tipping his imaginary hat on his head as he spun away on his heal, saying as he walked off, “Always a pleasure.”

With an air of pride, he felt accomplished. Bored, but accomplished. Time to find his latest plaything. He’d been watching this one for the last few nights. Stalking her from a distance while she went about her routine. Normally, the Scourge wouldn’t waste his time, but this girl… something about her smelled different. Special. He could sense it, much like the way he had back when Darla had originally found his Drusilla. Unique. A gifted plum just ripe for the plucking.

She had obviously been on something the first time the vampire saw her. Perhaps it was his fondness for the junkie who freed him from the cage that made him adore these types. Maybe it was the nostalgia of hunting down and potentially creating another fanged family. No matter. He was enjoying himself and this girl could be a whole new game for him.

Walking around the back alleys and over to her corner, Angelus lit a smoke, hovering in the shadows as he awaited her arrival. It was getting close to 2am, her usual time for catching the drunks as they left the bars. This girl was a real pro. A good blow or hand-job, whatever would get her enough for a score. But she didn’t take shit, either. That’s what impressed him the most. This chick was damaged goods, and damn, if that wasn’t a turn on. Angelus could definitely press the buttons on this one.

This tall drink of water had potential and that was rare in a place like Santa Monica. Sure, Los Angeles had its fair share of joy rides, but they were nothing new. Same song, different dance. He needed something with more character. Something jazzy and just all around enticing.

A wrinkle of the brow and a glance to his watch to check the time as he tapped the time piece. She was late? That was unusual. She was usually early. After all, this is how she got her fix.

Angelus walked over in the direction that she came from every evening, smelling to see if he could catch a whiff of her cigarettes and shampoo. She used the cheap shit, but it was very recognizable. Something of a Suave type of hair product mixed with a polyester blend of fabric. That scent combined with alcohol, tobacco and chemicals was pretty easy to detect.

He trotted past the graffiti on the metal fence along the harbor, suddenly hearing her voice shouting out. Angelus took his time, avoiding being seen at first as he watched from behind a storage bin. There was no one there, but she sure seemed to think there was. “Oh, eat me,” Angelus mumbled to himself. “Another loony-bin. Great. Well, it would’ve been nice, kiddo but-,” he cut off as he heard what she shouted…

Wait. Did she just say Drusilla!? Nooo. Is she-… She couldn’t mean his Dru, could she?

Angelus listened more intently as another breaking revelation came forward. “Holy Crucifixion, she’s talkin’ to Darla.” He burst out of the shadows at that point, revving up to her in long strides as he hollered, “Excuse me, Blondie! Don’t mean to interrupt your little convo there, but uh-, “ he paused, strutting closer with every eager step, “Can you tell Darla that she needs to mind her own business? I got it covered. Thanks.” He’d closed the gap and instantly punched the blonde with an abnormally hard, right-hook, knocking her unconscious. A smirk played over his lips as he let out a sigh of relief. “Get ready, babydoll. Your workin’ a new corner from now on.”

Hoisting her lifeless body up and over his shoulder, he leaped with ease 30 feet into the air and onto the roof of the warehouse, quickly taking her across town and back to his underground lair. Within an hour, he’d locked her wrists up in shackles and chains, bound to the cement wall as her body laid on the mattress. Normally, he wouldn’t bother with such a luxury, but this was his new pet! He couldn’t let her be completely uncomfortable. Besides, the cement floor was freezing. After all, they had ages of torture to get through. Couldn’t have her pass out from hypothermia, now could he?

The room was his own cell that Angel had devised years ago to hold him in case Angelus resurfaced. Reinforced, steel bars that went from the ceiling to the floor with an extra strong, four-pronged steel lock that only opened with one key. Angelus now kept that key close-by at all times, but not where anyone could get to it. He thought it was fitting to use soul-boy’s own device against him as a torture chamber, since it was created to save people from himself. A bit of an ironic symbiosis, if you will.

As the woman began to stir, Angelus grinned from ear-to-ear, sitting up on a metal table on the other side of the bars. Hands folded over his knees, the amused vamp rested his black boots against a chair as he said, “Rise and shine, Emily!” He made sure to use her name, knowing she’d never told it to him. The creep factor just made it all the more pleasurable.

“Welcome to your new home. Oh, and don’t bother tryin’ to hang yourself - or stab yourself - or anything like that, pretty please? I know it might seem like it’s the end of the world, but I promise you… whatever pain you feel in the near future?...It’ll only get worse. And just when you think it can’t? I’ll bet you a dozen needles it does. Oh, by golly Joe Whillacker, I sure am gonna enjoy this, muffin! We’re gonna have SO much fun. You are one special, little thing, aren’t you? How long has that been goin’ on now, by the way? The whole um… talking to dead people thing. Months? Years? Lemme guess-,” he broke into Lady Gaga, singing, “Baby, you were born this wayyy!” With a chuckle, Angelus hopped up to his feet and wrapped his hands around the cold bars, smiling down at her with a sigh of happiness.

“Ahhh, you know… I’ve gotta thank you. I really do. It’s been a millennium since I found someone worthy of eternal torment. Really! Hell, more than that. I believe it was the mid 1800’s when I turned Drusy. But she’s off doing her own thing these days. She lost her verve. Her SPARK!” He slammed the bars with both hands as he shouted that, just to get a jump out of her. “But I guess you already knew that, huh? Darla told you about our dear, delusional daughter, didn’t she? How is the old ball and chain, anyway?”

#Devour #Angelus And Emily #50ShadesOfBlack #DeathOfABachelor

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anthemverseduology · 4 years

Text

Geraldine

I was four-years-old when my mother split town for Toledo. Like most people in my life, my mother never liked me much. She'd met my father, and as legend would tell it, she fell in love with him. He was around for a while, but before or soon after I was born he disappeared, too. He left me with my name, William, and his black hair and blue eyes, then he vanished like vapor.

My mother was indifferent to me, that I can remember. She sent me to every daycare facility that she could, but the children always avoided me, leaving me to play in the corners alone. When I wasn't left to myself the teachers would sit me facing the wall, as if there was something about me that they couldn't stand to look at. Finally, one day, my mother dropped me off at her sister, Geraldine's, and then without a word of farewell, she was gone.

I cried a lot in those early days, as you would imagine a little boy missing his mother might do, but Geraldine wasn't sympathetic to my feelings at all. She was a cold and callous woman, and I knew that she didn't truly care for me, even as young as I was. Geraldine set me up in a room at the top of the stairs that I was fairly certain had once been a storage closet. There was one, tiny window that looked down onto the alleyway, but the building just behind Geraldine's blocked out most sunlight.

There was always dust in the air, and all that I was allowed to keep on the shelves in my room were two thrifted pairs of jeans, four pairs of underwear that I'd have to wash myself by hand, then hang to dry (she didn't want me using too much water or power), and two t-shirts, that were over-sized on me to start with. Eventually, I grew into them, but by that time they'd been worn threadbare.

I remember Geraldine like a dark shadow in my life. She was tall and imposing, with long, dark-brown hair that she kept drawn back, half-up in a tight knot at the crown of her skull. Her eyes were small, almost appearing black at times when she was particularly filled with brimstone. Her clothes all seemed like they were de-saturated, with the exception of two dresses; one in blue, and one in red that she would wear on her outings to meet with men that she called her 'friends'.

Geraldine had spoken many times about the ungrateful nature of my mother, saying often that she had run my father off, instead of convincing him to stay so that we would have money. As I grew older, I realized that all Geraldine cared about was being well-off, and when I reached eight years old that became more and more apparent as I finally found my first friend.

“Hey!” a kid around my age shouted, just before Steve's fist connected with my jaw again. I'd never done anything to Steve, Gary, and Dave, but they hated me all the same, and they made sure that I felt it on a daily basis. Sometimes it was my ribs that they pummeled, but that day my face had particularly offended them. “Let him go!”

Steve turned, looking to his right, pausing with his fist drawn back. “Stay outta this, MacFerrily.”

The other boy let out a loud scoff. “I don't think I will! You really wanna try me, Stephen?”

“Screw it,” Gary said as he and Dave turned my arms loose, and I fell to my hands and knees, spitting blood from where I'd bitten down on my tongue from an uppercut to my chin. “See you tomorrow, Willy.”

“It's...'Billy',” I said, coughing a little as Steve reluctantly followed Gary and Dave down the sidewalk. “Assholes.”

“What's those guys' damage?” The boy that Steve had called MacFerrily helped me to my feet, before grimacing as he looked at my face. “They do this to you a lot?”

“Every day since school started,” I said, wiping the back of my hand over my chin to get some of the blood off of my skin. “Thanks for stoppin' them.”

“You woulda done the same for me...I'm Frank,” he said, putting his hand out to shake mine before noticing the blood on my knuckles. “Get a lick in on them?”

I looked down at my own hand, shaking my head. “Took a swing at Gary and hit the wall.”

“Is it broke? You need a doctor or somethin'?” Frank asked, looking concerned.

“No, way. My aunt would kill me for goin' to a hospital,” I said, flexing my fingers, unable to help the hiss that escaped through my teeth. “Doctors cost too much.”

“Yeah, but if it helps keep you from havin' a messed up hand, don't you think she'd want you to go?” Frank asked, clearly confused. “My mom takes me to see the doc if I blink wrong.”

“I've never been to the doctor. I just know that she says it costs too much,” I said, inspecting a new rip in the collar of my shirt. “Damn...”

“What happens when you get sick?” Frank crossed his arms over his chest, seeming as though he was angry on my behalf.

“I get a can of soup and some crackers, and she leaves me in my room,” I said, shrugging. “Why?”

“Look, I don't mean to be nosy or nothin', but is your aunt poor?” Frank looked uncomfortable, but there was still concern in his eyes.

It was the first time that I'd really thought about that. Geraldine had always had nice new things, she was always out on the weekends, and she always had her meals after I went to bed. In the mornings, when I'd take out the garbage, I'd find the remnants of T-bone steaks or whole chicken meals, while I'd been sent to bed with oatmeal or broth. Something in my head and my heart clicked at that moment, but I needed the confirmation. “I have to go, Frank. Gotta see about somethin',” I said, turning to walk away. “Thanks again for the save.”

“Hey, listen, Billy,” Frank said, stopping me. “You could sit with me at lunch and recess. Those guys are cowards. I've been scrappin' with my older brother and his buddy, Rick, since I was little. I'll help keep Steve, Gary, and Dave out of your hair.”

I nodded my head once, feeling my head pounding with the ache setting in from having my face used as a punching bag. “I will,” I said, raising my left hand to wave goodbye to him as I made my way home, to Geraldine's house. Normally, I would have crept inside the front door, trying to make as little noise as possible, hoping that I wouldn't incur her wrath. That afternoon, though, I wanted to get her attention.

“Geraldine!” I called down the hall, my voice echoing off of the walls that were covered in gaudy wallpaper. “Where are you?”

Geraldine's face appeared around the kitchen doorway. “Who do you think that you're talkin' to in that tone, William Anderson?”

“I'm talkin' to you! Are you rich?” I asked, my voice coming out in an embarrassing squeak.

“What did you just ask me?” Geraldine asked, stepping into the doorway, holding a plate of chocolate cake, which I was never allowed to have.

“Are you damned rich?” I shouted, pointing at the floor.

“How dare you use that language with me, young man!” Geraldine shouted, throwing the plate she held, spattering chocolate frosting all over the wall. “Look what you made me do! Clean that up!”

“You clean it up! You're the one that made the mess. Answer the question. Are you rich?” I yelled back, even as she charged at me.

She grabbed me by the jaw, never questioning where the lacerations on my face and lip came from. “You insolent little shit. I should throw you right out on the street! See how you fend for yourself!”

“I might do better,” I growled.

“Oh, you think that you'll make it in the world alone? No one can stand the sight of you, William! You're a pustule on the face of the Earth. You shouldn't exist! You're the bastard son of a drifter and a weak-willed whore, and you're lucky that you're even alive!”

Any argument I had ready was silenced by her slapping me hard across the face. With the injuries I'd already sustained, and the pain in my head, I lost consciousness immediately. When I woke up I was in a dark space. I could see, but only just a little; enough to know that I was in the storage space underneath the basement stairs. I pushed on the door in a futile attempt to get out, then I started pounding. “Let me out! Open the door! Let me out!” I was left in the room with nothing but a Bible, a jug of water, and a loaf of bread. No one ever came to rescue me. Finally, the door creaked open, and I scrambled out, facing Geraldine in her finest red dress.

“I'm goin' out. Don't leave this house or I'll lock you right back where you belong,” she said, batting me across the face for good measure. “You'll obey or you'll go to Hell...What do you say...?”

“Yes, ma'am,” I said, resisting the urge to put my hand to the wound on my cheek that had been split open again by her strike. Blood had dried on my face, and it itched, but still I didn’t move. “When'll you be back?”

“That's not your business! Read four chapters in your demonology book,” she said, leaning towards me so that her nose was close to mine. “You need to remember your place, you little shit. You're lucky that I took you in or you'd be on the streets.”

“Being on the streets would be better than having to deal with you,” I said, feeling unusually bold.

Geraldine inhaled deeply through her nostrils, her eyes wide and glaring as if she hoped that she could kill me with a look. “You're lucky that you're lucrative.”

“There it is,” I said, feeling vindicated and still sick to my stomach. “What do you get out of keeping me? Tell the truth.”

“You want the truth?” Geraldine asked, laughing. “Your mama and papa couldn't stand you. No one can. You're an insufferable child, and you have no redeemable qualities to speak of. You, Billy, are a waste of flesh. Heaven couldn't possibly want you, so you must be bound for Hell.”

“And where do you think that you're gonna go, Auntie Geraldine?” I asked in a mocking tone.

She raised her hand as if she was going to strike me again. “No, no. If my hand is red I'll have things to explain...Get out.”

“What?” I asked, incredulously. “‘Get out’?”

“Get out of my house. I don't care where you go,” she said, crossing her arms. “You're not staying here while I'm gone.”

“I have school tomorrow!” I argued.

“Well, you should have thought of that before you decided to be so disrespectful!” Geraldine growled as I backed towards the front door.

“No! I need somewhere to sleep! You can't just leave me out here!” My back hit the front door, then like a malicious tower Geraldine was looming over me. “I'm just a kid.”

“You've never been ‘just a kid’. You're a cancer on this planet, and if I could eradicate you, I would.”

I found myself speechless. I'd felt unwanted before, but I'd never had anyone tell me so specifically how expendable I was. I moved away from the door in quick steps, letting Geraldine pass. She sneered at me as she walked out into the evening, slamming the door behind her. That was the last night that I cried for myself until many years later.

That's a whole other story.

What's important here is what happened to Geraldine.

***

It came as a surprise to me when twenty years after the afternoon that Geraldine had locked me in the closet I found myself once again in her presence. I was out on the road with some new friends, riding our motorcycles cross-country, seeing what trouble we could stir up wherever we went. Some nights, though, I got to dwelling on everything that I'd left back home, then bitterness and loneliness would settle in my chest. Those nights I allowed my three friends to do what they might, and I tried to hide myself in the darkest corner of the darkest upscale bar. My friends loved the dives, as did I normally, but they avoided any place with class. The denizens of those kinds of bars tended to have money, they would be missed, and many of them had contracts with Hell, so they were off limits, anyway.

I could go into the details of how I knew about the contracts, but this story isn't about me.

This story is about Geraldine.

That night she sat at the bar across the room from me, flirting with a man who was much older than her, but his wristwatch was expensive, and he kept ordering the most costly scotch they had on the shelf. He projected old money, and he had the distinct appearance of a man who had never done any real work in his life besides pointing a finger as he shouted.

He was perfect for her.

Unfortunately for the potential future of the couple, fate had smiled on the old fool, and my Path and Geraldine's had crossed once more. I waited until the man had gone to the bathroom for the fifth time that hour, then I tossed back the rest of my vodka, heading over to the bar. I sat my empty glass down on the counter, standing next to her as she adjusted the straps of her red dress to attempt to hide the wrinkles of her shoulders. “Hello, Geraldine,” I said, fixing my eyes on the rack of glasses above my head.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see her head snap over to look up at me, her eyes widening. “William? What are you doin' here?” she asked, looking around her quickly as the other people in the room froze right where they were. The only sound still filling the air was Geraldine's nervous breathing, and the music being piped in over the bar’s stereo system. Electronics have no respect for the way that time works. If you've ever had a song skip ahead for no reason, consider if you might have been frozen in a moment and didn't even know it. Geraldine was starting to shift away from me out of her seat, careful to snatch her purse off of the bar top as though her life depended on the object. “How are you doing this? What do you want? I gave you over to those people so that I wouldn't ever have to look at you again.”

“Ah, yeah. My family...” I bowed my head a little as I looked down into my empty glass before reaching over the bar to grab a cheap bottle of whiskey. “I'm not really welcome at home right now—not the way that I am. See, what you always said was true. I'm a curse on the Earth, and lately I've been leaning into the curve, so to speak.”

Geraldine screwed her features up into a scowl. “What does that mean?”

I turned down the corners of my mouth, closing my eyes as I shrugged slightly as the televisions mounted behind the bar that normally showed live updates on the stock market, all switched to different national news stations reporting on the same thing. “Maybe you should watch more TV, Geraldine,” I suggested, taking a swig from the whiskey in my hand.

“Multiple murders, assaults, and destruction have been reported now across the eastern United States. Authorities in all of the local areas and the FBI say that they are certain that there is a tie to a group of individuals on motorcycles. Witnesses at each scene said that these people were calling themselves 'Horsemen', though they say that one of the group is a female,” the reporter said, looking grim. “No one is certain if she's being held against her will.”

I couldn't help but let out a snort of mild annoyance. “Agata’s problem is that--against her will--nobody's holding her.”

“What is this?” Geraldine asked, holding up a hand to gesture at the televisions. “Are you sayin’ that you're one of the people doin’ this?”

“No, no, no. We're not people,” I said, shaking my head as I gripped the neck of the whiskey bottle, pointing at Geraldine. “'I looked, and behold a pale horse, and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.' I'm sure that you remember the verse well. You know, I used to skim the bits about the Horsemen. I thought it was ridiculous, you know? Not scary, at all! Let me tell you, though, Geraldine, there's a lot of horsepower in a motorcycle.”

“I always knew that if you survived you'd grow up to be a wicked, sinful, monster,” Geraldine growled through gritted teeth, leaning towards me slightly, as she used to do when I was much smaller than her. The intimidation would no longer work. She had no power at all, and I stood a whole foot taller than her. I took a step forward, looming over her as she had once done to me, seeing fire flames flash in front of my vision as Geraldine's expression changed to one of horror. “You said that I was bound for Hell, but it seems to have turned out that Hell was bound for me. I've tried to leave it behind me, but it follows me wherever I go. Do you understand?”

“I don't...What happened to you, Billy?” she whispered, tears of terror running down her face.

“Oh, ho! So, now it's 'Billy'! I thought I was a pustule?” I asked, hopping up to sit on the bar top, knocking off her martini glass. I looked down after it briefly before turning back to her. “Oops. Eh, you break a glass, you destroy a few cities—same difference in the long run. Except when it isn't. What do you know about that, though? You just tried to destroy an innocent little boy.”

“You were never innocent. Clearly, by your behavior now,” Geraldine said, her voice quaking as she tried to inch backwards away from me. I wasn't quite done talking yet, and she found herself locked in place where she stood. “Why can't I move?”

“I'm in a mood,” I said. “If you were anybody else I might have let you try to run. I'd have let you think that you were getting away, and then I would have made some great gesture of power to show you that you're just a little, tiny thing in the grand scheme of the Universe. Not even a blip on the radar, really, and that's strictly down to you.”

Geraldine reached down, jerking at her ankle, as if simply pulling her foot from her shoe would allow her to flee. “You stop this right now, or I—”

“Or, you'll what?” I growled, the vibration of my voice rattling the glass in the bar. “Throw me in a closet? Toss me out on the street without so much as a jacket, or a place to sleep? I sleep wherever I want now. I dress how I like. I drink, I smoke, I've done a few drugs, and boy is it all fun! I've killed angels and I've made the Devil laugh. You...you're still dressing up like a two-bit floosy, just trying to find her next free ride.”

Geraldine raised a hand, slapping me hard across the face, but I didn't flinch. She grasped at her hand, looking from her wrist back up to me as she broke into sobs. “What are you?”

“I'm what you'll think about every night when you're trying to sleep. 'Will this be the night he comes for me? Will it be tomorrow?'” I asked, mockingly. “You'll wait every day for that moment when I'll appear again. One day you'll start wishing that I would come. You'll wish that I'll appear to you and just get it all over with—whatever it is that I'm going to do.” I hopped down off of the bar, moving to stand just in front of the spot that she was still frozen in. “The next time you see me, Geraldine Sharp, will be at the moment of your demise, for I am Death, and Hell waits for you.”

“No, please, no! I've prayed! I've gone to church! I've done all that I was supposed to!” Geraldine pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

“You tortured and neglected a little boy in your charge. A little boy, I might add, that you probably shouldn't have been a dick to, being that I inherited some serious power,” I said, turning the whiskey bottle up to chug from it for a moment as gold lightning flashed outside the windows of the bar. “I see where your time-line ends, Auntie. You keep a watch out. You never know when I'll be coming for you. Could be in twenty years...could be tonight.”

Geraldine jerked to a stumbling run, screaming at the top of her lungs, as if she was on fire. The other patrons in the bar looked after her in disgust or confusion, watching her push past the man she'd been flirting with earlier, nearly knocking the elderly gentleman to the floor. Her shrieks could still be heard from the entrance as she ran towards the elevator bank.

“Good Heavens, boy,” the old man said, coming over to stand next to me as I feigned bewilderment. “What on Earth was that?”

“Sir, she seemed to believe that I was the Angel of Death!” I said with a smirk. “I guess it takes all kinds, am I right?”

The old man let out a choking laugh, the stage four lung cancer he wasn't telling anyone about suffocating him a little further. “I suppose that you are right!” he wheezed. “Shame, I was going to move her into my manor house, in Vale.”

“Is that right, Marvin?” I asked, the wheels in my head beginning to turn. A house would be nice, and Marvin wouldn't mind dying early.

0 notes

courtinggrievances · 7 years

Text

[[I’m gonna... take this time to put up a log kk had with eri this morning. this was rushedly formatted and it took me a bit to figure out how, so there might be some random < p > or something in there

PS: any formatting we did have from the discord got... erased so.... that sucks but you’ll get the point, even if they both get a bit, uh, runon? we tried to figure out a solution but right now i want to sacrifice quality for speed cause i need to sleep and we can fix it later if we really gotta]]

eridan | mags - Today at 7:37

so uh hey kar howwvve you been

Court (Kam) - Today at 7:42

HEY! NOT TERRIBLY TERRIBLE, IF I'M HONEST. IT'S NOT GETTING ANY COLDER, AND THE DRONES HAVEN'T CAUGHT US YET, SO THERE'S THAT.

eridan | mags - Today at 7:43

that doesnt relievve me all that much if im bein honest but alright i guess at least theres that just try and not get killed alright

Court (Kam) - Today at 7:43

HEY, WE'RE THINKING THE SAME THING HERE. I MEAN, I'M NOT RELIEVED AT ALL, BUT IF ANYTHING ELSE, I'VE STILL GOT MY LIFE, HAHA. FUCK, YOU KNOW I'M LITERALLY A FUGITIVE RIGHT? LIKE IF I WAS ON YOUR ALTERNIA, HOW LONG DO YOU THINK IT'D BE FOR A DRONE TO MATCH MY PROFILE UP IN THE DATABANKS AND SWOOP DOWN TO CARRY ME OFF IN ITS GRUBBY LITTLE CLAWS? LIKE I'LL TRY, BUT HEY. NO PROMISES.

eridan | mags - Today at 7:45

yeah ill nevver bring you to alternia thats for sure

Court (Kam) - Today at 7:45

I'M ACTUALLY KIND OF LOOKING FORWARD TO THE EARTH TRIP, HONESTLY. I'VE BEEN DOING "RESEARCH". IS IT TRUE THE SUN DOESN'T BURN YOUR SKIN THERE???? WHAT DO THE HUMANS DO AT NIGHT? IS IT TOO COLD, THEN, FOR THEM TO THRIVE? IS THAT WHEN THEY SLEEP, OR IS THAT WHEN THEY GET THE MOST OF THEIR WORK DONE?

eridan | mags - Today at 7:47

god you really are excited for it huh

Court (Kam) - Today at 7:48

FAR BE IT FROM ME TO SHOW ACTUAL EXCITEMENT, YOU KNOW. HEH. DEFINITELY, THOUGH. WHY SHOULD I NOT BE? I'M SPENDING TIME IN A NON-MURDEROUS PLACE WITH AN ACTUAL, HONEST TO GOD, NON-MURDEROUS FRIEND. LIKE HOLY ACTUAL FUCK, THAT DOESN'T HAPPEN OFTEN ENOUGH. EXCITED? EVERYTIME I THINK ABOUT IT I KIND OF JUST... THROW MY HANDS IN THE AIR. WHAT AM I GONNA DO? I GOT NO FUCKING CLUE. BUT IT'LL BE GOOD, I'M SURE.

eridan | mags - Today at 7:50

wwell good ill try my best to make it good for you so you get to havve a fuckin break for once but yeah its kinda flipped on earth wwhich i still cant get used to to be honest i havve the wworst sleepin problems the sun feels great there but i still cant bring myself to sleep normally at night

Court (Kam) - Today at 7:51

ALLOW ME TO SHOW A SMIDGEN OF CONCERN AND CARE FOR YOU BUT, HEY, I DON'T CARE IF WE DON'T EVEN LEAVE YOUR HIVE. I'LL RAID YOUR FOOD STORAGE BLOCK AND CRASH ON THE COUCH AND MAYBE WATCH YOU DO SHIT AND WE'LL BE GOOD. HELL, IT FEELS "GREAT"? CAN'T WAIT TO FIND OUT WHAT THAT FEELS LIKE. OUR SCHEDULES ARE KIND OF FLIPPED ANYWAYS, HONESTLY. WE TRAVEL DURING THE DAY A LOT, BECAUSE MOST TROLLS (ORPHANERS AND THE LIKE,) WON'T TRAVEL DURING DAY, SO WE GET A HEADSTART ON THEM. CAN'T OUTRUN THE DRONES THOUGH. MISERABLE EXCUSES FOR ORGANICS. JUST HAVE TO HOPE THEY DON'T CHASE US, DOESN'T SEEM LIKE IT SO FAR. I THINK WE LOST MOST OF THEM WHEN THEY RAIDED KANAYA'S HIVE AND RAZED IT TO THE GROUND? BACK WHEN I GOT MY SECOND CONCUSSION... OR FIRST, I'M NOT SURE, THAT PART IS KIND OF. BLURRY. IT WAS A LOT OF WAITING IN A DARK, WATERY CAVE. NO, SECOND, ACTUALLY. OR MAYBE, AN EXCARBATION OF THE FIRST, BECAUSE I GOT THAT ONE WHEN I GOT SLAMMED INTO A WALL BY A DRONE, EARLIER THAT... WEEK? LIKE THREE CYCLES BEFORE THE HIVE-RAZING, AND THEN I GOT HIT IN THE HEAD AGAIN WHEN WE WENT DOWN THE ROCKY WATER SLIDE OF DEATH WHEN THE DRONES ATTACKED THE HIVE. OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT. LIKE I SAID. BLURRY.

eridan | mags - Today at 7:56

ok this is a lot first off wwere absolutely gonna go outside and do cool shit ill showw you the city and stuff like theres this space needle that ivve honestly nevver been on evven though ivve been livvin here for a wwhile but you should see it its like a huge towwer wwhere you can see the entire city from its supposed to be real pretty but its also real pricey so i wwas nevver interested second howw the fuck do you evven travvel at day dont you get burns or anythin isnt that shit dangerous i mean yeah its dangerous already for you to travvel at night but like i dont knoww be safe ok readin shit like this makes me wwanna practise usin my rifle again honestly

Court (Kam) - Today at 7:59

IT WAS WORSE WHEN WE HAD TO TRAVEL THROUGH THE DESERT.

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:01

I BOUGHT REALLY NICE SUN GEAR BEFORE HAND, AND I ALREADY HAD MOST OF MY BLISTERS IN THE TWO-HOUR TREK TO TEMP'S HIVE BEFOREHAND. I GUESS, ONCE YOU BLISTER UP ENOUGH, YOUR SKIN GETS USED TO IT. THEN YOU JUST SWEAT TO DEATH. I'M STILL 99% SURE WE'VE ALL SHORTENED OUR LIFESPANS BY SOME DEGREE, THOUGH. UNFORTUNATE BUT COULDN'T BE HELPED. BURNS GET CAUSED BY THE CONTACT OF THE HEATSOURCE TO YOUR SKIN- IF YOU GET TOO HOT, YOU BAKE AND BLISTER UP BEFORE YOU ACTUALLY BURN, WITHOUT ACTUAL EXPOSURE TO THE RAYS OF THE SUN, LIKE WHEN YOU WEAR HEAT GEAR. WITHOUT IT, OH YEAH. HELL YEAH, YOU ABSOLUTELY BURN AND IT'S HORRIFIC, BUT WE'RE ALL PAST THAT POINT. WE'VE BEEN ON THE ROAD FOR.... ALMOST HALF A SWEEP? WE TRY TO FIND SHADE WHERE WE CAN. RIGHT NOW IT'S COLD AND PATCHY SNOW SOMETIMES, WHEN THE SUN ISN'T OUT. IT'S SOMEWHAT TOLERABLE THIS FAR NORTH, THE SUN I MEAN.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:06

howw the fuck are you not dead yet holy shit

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:06

TEMP REFERS TO ME AS A "BRICK WALL SHITHOUSE".

eridan | mags - Today at 8:06

pretty accurate can i ask you somethin though howw did all of this start the runnin i mean

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:15

I ACTUALLY PASSED OUT ONCE IN THE DESERT, WHILE WE WERE TRAVELING TO KANAYA'S HIVE, AND TEMP HAD TO CARRY ME. ALSO, YEAH. THIS IS TOP SECRET SHIT, OKAY?

eridan | mags - Today at 8:16

god

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:16

DON'T JUST GO TELLING THIS SHIT TO JUST ANYONE.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:16

i dont evven knoww wwho to tell honestly

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:16

I GUESS TEMP PINGED HER BATTLESHIP.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:16

they cant really do much wwith this information

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:17

GOT EVERYTHING. LOCATION COORDINATES, CABIN ROSTER, EVEN THE FUCKING MENU FOR THE FOOD LINE. ANNNDD I GUESS TEMP FIGURED OUT HIS ANCESTOR IS THE UNWILLING PILOT FOR THAT SHIP. OBVIOUSLY SHE DIDN'T LIKE THAT SOMEONE GOT THROUGH THE SECURITY ON HER SHIP. BUT BEFORE SHE DID ANYTHING, TEMP CAME TO ME, AND I NOT-SO-LIGHTLY SUGGESTED WE LEAVE TOWN. AS WE LEFT HIS HIVESTEM, WE SAW THE GAGGLE OF HIGHBLOODS IN UNIFORM FORCING ALL THE PSIONS THEY COULD FIND OUT OF EVERY BLOCK IN THE NEARBY VICINITY AND INTO CHAINS. TEMP DIDN'T THINK SHE WOULD BE THAT QUICK IN PINPOINTING HIS LOCATION BUT I FUCKING KNEW BETTER. ANYWAY, HE COULDN'T SIT WITH THE IDEA THAT HE'D CAUSED THESE THIRTY-SOMETHING PSIONIC TROLLS TO BECOME ENSLAVED OR TO REACH AN EARLY ASCENSION AND RITES OR WHATEVER, SO I BASICALLY WENT IN AND KNOCKED THE SHIT OUT OF SOME OF THE FUCKS, BROKE THE BINDINGS, AND JUST FUCKING RAN. BUT THEN THEY KNEW WHAT I LOOKED LIKE, SO WE WERE BOTH RUNNING FROM HER AND FROM THE LOCALS.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:23

so basically it wwas your mate bein a curious idiot that got you into this situation

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:23

WE WENT BACK TO MY HIVE, RAIDED MY SHIT, AND THEN WE CROSSED THE CITY IN THE SEWERS FOR THE DAY AND THEN HEADED OUT OF TOWN, STAYED AT A MOTEL FOR A FEW NIGHTS, AND HEADED OUT TO THE DESERT, AND THERE'S JUST A BUNCH OF BULLSHIT I'D RATHER NOT TALK ABOUT FROM THERE. IT'S MOSTLY BULLSHIT ABOUT THE COVERUP OF WHAT I'M DUBBING THE ANCESTRAL REVOLT AND THE WRONGFUL IMPRISONMENT AND SLAUGHTER OF THOSE WHO PARTICIPATED IN IT. TEMP'S JUST ALL WOUND UP BECAUSE HIS ANCESTOR IS STILL ALIVE AND SUFFERING AND GOD. I MEAN DIP'S ALL WELL AND GOOD, HE'S GOTTEN US OUT OF A FEW PICKLES SO FAR. BUT MESSAGES ARE SPARSE, AND IT WORRIES TEMP, I GUESS. BUT YEAH, BASICALLY.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:25

so wwhats your plan are you just gonna run forevver

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:26

DO YOU WANT THE LONG ANSWER OR THE SHORT ONE.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:26

givve me the long one im invvested

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:27

WE JUST RECENTLY LEARNED THAT SHE'S CALLING ALL THE PSIONS TO HER IN A CLASS-ACT LEVEL OF BULLSHIT, EVERY SINGLE!! FUCKING!! PSION!! INTERPLANETARY SHIPPING IS HALTED, SHE'S LAID SIEGE TO ALTERNIA ITSELF IF WE CAN'T GET THE RESOURCES WE NEED FROM OTHER PLANETS EFFECTIVELY. SHE'S REARRANGED THE CLASSES OF THE STELLAR-CLASS PSIONS AND BASICALLY RESTRUCTURED THE ENTIRE ALTERNIAN TRANSGALACTIC FLEET'S INFRASTRUCTURE JUST TO KEEP DIPSHIT ALIVE. SO RIGHT NOW, WE'RE SCRAMBLING TO GET THE MESSAGE OUT. ANYONE WITH POWER NEEDS TO GET OUT OF THEIR HIVES AND GET UNDERGROUND BEFORE THEY GET BROUGHT UP INTO THE STARS TO BE USED UP AND THROWN AWAY. SHE'S EVEN TAKING EGGS, IF DIPSHIT IS TO BE BELIEVED. NO PSIONICS ARE TO BE LEFT ON ALTERNIA, AND EVERYWHERE ELSE THEY'RE ABOUT TO BECOME A CLASS A SCARCE RESOURCE.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:29

wwho the fuck evven is that dipshit youre talkin about

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:29

WHICH MEANS TEMP AND AA JUST BECAME SUPER VALUABLE TO ANYONE LOOKING. HE'S HER PILOT, THE ONE TEMP CONTACTED. I'D SAY HIS PROPER TITLE BUT I'VE GOT TO BE CAREFUL WITH BUZZWORDS.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:30

wwell alright

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:30

ANYWAY! SO WE'RE TRYING TO GET THE WORD OUT TO HIGHBLOODS ABOUT THIS CLASS A RESOURCE THING, SO THEY WANT TO KEEP THEIR PSIONICS ON THE PLANET, AND TO THE REST, TO KEEP HIDDEN. ANYWHERE IS BETTER, BUT IF THEY GET INTO ORBIT, THEY'RE BASICALLY DEAD IN THE WATER. IT'S THE GENOCIDE OF AN ENTIRE FUCKING CLASS, IT'S WHAT SHE'S TRYING TO DO, ALL TO KEEP HER PRIZE FROM SAID ANCESTRAL REVOLT. ANYWAY!! MY PERSONAL GOAL IS TO LEARN MORE ABOUT MY OWN ANCESTOR AND HOW HE TIED INTO ALL THIS, BUT I GUESS WE'VE GOT MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO PLAN, LIKE HOW WE'RE GOING TO GET NEWS LIKE THIS SHIT OUT ON A MASS SCALE. I'M THINKING OF GETTING SOME SORT OF RADIO TRANSMITTER AND GETTING THE WORD OUT FOR OUR STATION NUMBERS OR WHATEVER. LONG TERM, TEMP WANTS TO FREE DIPSHIT. SO I GUESS WE'RE GONNA BAIT THE EMPRESS PLANETSIDE. AND THEN... I DUNNO. WE'LL FIGHT, I GUESS. SHE'S SO FAR OUT, THOUGH, THAT'S THE PROBLEM.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:34

do you really actually think youvve got a chance against the condesce

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:34

IT'LL TAKE /SWEEPS/ TO BRING HER THIS WAY, PROBABLY, UNLESS SHE PUTS DIPSHIT AT RISK, AND TEMP DOESN'T WANT THAT AND NEITHER DO I. MAYBE NOT NOW, BUT BY THE TIME SHE GETS HERE? I'M HOPING. I MEAN, IF ALL ELSE FAILS, I'LL STAND IN THE DIRECT SUNLIGHT IN MIDDAY, WITH ALL MY RESISTANCE TO IT, AND CHALLENGE HER OUT? HAHAH. ... HONESTLY...? I THINK MY PRIORITIES LIE MORE WITH THE REST OF ALTERNIA. TEMP CAN WORRY ABOUT DIPSHIT ALL HE WANTS. BUT FOR THE REST OF US? I THINK THAT'S GOING TO BE MY MAIN CONCERN. ALL INTERPLANETARY SHIPPING IS GOING TO STOP FOR A WHILE- WE'RE SWITCHING TO FOSSIL FUELS FOR FUCKS SAKE!! SO RESOURCES ARE ABOUT TO BECOME EXTREMELY RARE, AND I NEED TO STOCK UP AND MAKE SURE WE HAVE WHAT WE NEED TO SURVIVE THE NEXT FEW MONTHS. I'VE ALREADY PUT THROUGH MY ORDER THROUGH SOME OF MY LESS REPUTABLE CONTACTS, SO I THINK WE'LL BE FINE, BUT IT'LL BE ROUGH, PROBABLY. SO THAT'S THE LONG VERSION OF THE MAIN PLAN.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:39

this is this is fuckin stupid howw can you think you can change somethin wwhy do you think its YOUR job to help evveryone your biggest concern should be that you and maybe youre friends are safe like fuck the rest they nevver did anythin FOR you and i doubt they evver wwill just get out of this fuckin place this plan is bound to fail and youll pay wwith your fuckin life

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:40

YOU MISUNDERSTAND ME, DAC. I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANYONE BESIDES MY GROUP, AND THE PEOPLE MY GROUP CARES ABOUT. TEMP HAPPENS TO CARE ABOUT THE CODEJOCKEYS, THE ONES I SAVED EARLIER FROM THE HIGHBLOOD ROUNDUP? AND I CARE ABOUT FAVORS. YOU GIVE ENOUGH INFORMATION OUT, PEOPLE ARE GONNA WANT TO KEEP YOU AROUND. IT'S... INSURANCE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME. WE NEED A NETWORK.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:42

wwell then fuckin knock that care out of him and get off this stupid fuckin planet before you actually die you dont need a netwwork you need a safe place

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:42

WE NEED PLACES TO STAY, THINGS TO EAT, PLACES TO RUN, AND YOU CAN'T GET THAT WITHOUT GIVING SOMETHING.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:42

this is not goin to wwork do you understand me

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:42

DAC. I HEAR YOU LOUD AND CLEAR, BUT I LOVE HIM, AND I'M GOING TO STAND WITH HIM.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:43

youre goin to die for it both of you

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:43

I MAY WANT TO GET THE HELL OUT OF DODGE A WHOLE HELL OF A LOT MORE THAN YOU THINK. BUT HE WON'T. HE'S HERE FOR THE LONG HAUL, AND I... I THINK HE CAN DO IT.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:43

if you really cared about your mate youd get him to safety

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:43

BUT HE NEEDS SOMEONE TO BE BY HIS SIDE. DON'T SEND ME ON A GUILT TRIP, BECAUSE I'VE BEEN THERE ALREADY, I TRIED THAT. I KNOCKED HIM OUT SO HE WOULDN'T FIGHT THE DRONES, AND SENT HIM DOWN THE WATERY ROCK SLIDE OF DEATH SO HE WOULD SURVIVE AND I WOULD FIGHT THEM.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:44

try harder maybe

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:44

HE JUST GOT MAD AT ME.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:44

temp is insane

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:45

YEAH, HE IS. BUT I BELIEVE IN HIM ANYWAY.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:45

yeah cause youre goddamn stupid

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:45

I'D DO THAT FOR ALL OF MY FRIENDS.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:45

stupid is wwhat you are both of you

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:45

INCLUDING YOU, YOU KNOW. ALL YOU'RE DOING IS MAKING ME FEEL BAD, AND IT'S NOT GOING TO YEILD ANY RESULTS OTHER THAN "I CAN'T TRUST DAC WITH PERSONAL INFORMATION".

eridan | mags - Today at 8:46

im makin you feel bad cause i i nevvermind

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:48

I MEAN... I WANT TO BE ABLE TO TELL YOU SHIT WHEN YOU ASK, BUT I DON'T WANT TO BE ABLE TO FEEL LIKE YOU'RE JUST GOING TO TELL ME THAT WHAT I FEEL IS STUPID AND THAT I'M STUPID. BECAUSE THAT'S NOT A GOOD FEELING, KNOWING I'VE GOT TO DO THIS SHIT REGARDLESS, BECAUSE HE'S MY FRIEND AND... GOD, THE LENGTHS OF SHIT I'LL GO TO FOR HIM, I DON'T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND. IT JUST DOESN'T FEEL GOOD IF I TELL YOU SOMETHING AND YOU TELL ME THAT IT'S DUMB AND POINTLESS. I ALREADY KNOW THAT. I DON'T CARE, I'M NOT DOING IT FOR THE POINTLESS ASPECT OF IT, I'M DOING IT BECAUSE MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND, DUMPTRUCK OF SHIT THAT HE MAY BE, NEEDS ME TO. ANYWAY. YOU'RE RIGHT, THOUGH. IT IS STUPID, BUT LIKE I SAID. I DON'T CARE.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:50

yeah alright

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:50

SOMEONE'S GOTTA, AND I GUESS IT'S GOING TO BE ME, BECAUSE WITHOUT ME, TEMP WILL /DEFINITELY/ DIE. KANAYA MIGHT MAKE IT ON HER OWN, BUT SHE'S STILL TOO SECLUSIVE TO KNOW HOW TO HANDLE A BIG CITY, SAME WITH TEMP. BOTH OF THEM COULDN'T WEASEL THEIR WAY INTO AN UNDERGROUND FIGHTING RING IF THEY TRIED, AND I'D GET IN BASED ON MY LOOKS ALONE.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:53

yeah ok

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:55

TEMP SEES... THE SMALL PARTS OF THE PICTURE. HE'S GOOD WITH CODE AND GOOD WITH KNOWING HOW TO DO THINGS ON A SMALL SCALE. KANAYA'S GOOD WITH WEAPONS AND HAND TO HAND COMBAT, AND SHE'S A JADEBLOOD, WHICH MEANS SHE GETS EASIER ACCESS TO FOOD. PERSONALLY, I KNOW HOW TO FIGHT, AND I KNOW THE DREGS OF THE CITY LIKE THE BACK OF MY CALLOUSED HANDS. I CAN WANT TWO CRATES OF HIGHLY ILLEGAL SHIT AND KNOW EXACTLY WHO TO TALK TO AND WHERE TO GO TO GET THEM, I'VE ALREADY GOT A LITTLE NETWORK IN SOME CITIES WILLING TO BET BIG MONEY ON ME IN THE FIGHTS, AND MAKE SOME GOOD CAEGERS THAT WAY, AND I SEE THE BIG PICTURE. WHERE TO GO, ULTIMATELY. WHAT TO ASK. WHO WE NEED. WE ALL PULL OUR WEIGHT.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:56

alright

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:56

NEXT QUESTION?

eridan | mags - Today at 8:57

howw did you twwo start datin

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:57

I GOT AN ANON MESSAGE ON TUMBLR SAYING HE WANTED TO KISS ME, AND THEN IT KIND OF SNOWBALLED. HE HID FROM HIS FEELINGS FOR A WHILE AND WE TALKED IT OUT, AND I ENDED UP STORMING OUT THE DOOR BECAUSE SOME PISSFACE WANTED TO TALK TO ME ON ANON ABOUT THAT SORT OF NSFW BULLSHIT. YOU KNOW HOW THEY CAN GET.

eridan | mags - Today at 8:59

yeah

Court (Kam) - Today at 8:59

HE ENDED UP CHASING AFTER ME AND UH, HONESTLY I'M KIND OF A SUCKER FOR PEOPLE SHOWING THEY ACTUALLY WANT TO BE WITH A HOTBLOOD LIKE ME. MOST OF THE TIME PEOPLE... DON'T. I GUESS. PROBABLY. I ASSUMED IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS HEMOANONYMOUS BACK THEN, AND THAT SPELLS TROUBLE TO ANYONE WITH EYES?

eridan | mags - Today at 8:59

guess you got lucky there

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:00

BOY I THOUGHT I WAS HOT SHIT BACK THEN, ALL GREYED OUT AND SPECIAL.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:00

yeah

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:00

NOW IT'S JUST BECAUSE I'VE GOT A TINY-ASS LIFESPAN AND I'M A DEAD MAN IF MY COLOR EVEN COMES UP IN A SCANNER. AKA; TOO DANGEROUS TO WANT TO BE WITH, APPARENTLY. IT'S... NICE TO BE ABLE TO TALK TO SOMEONE ABOUT THIS SHIT, THOUGH. TEMP SOMETIMES BRUSHES IT OFF AND I FEEL WORSE. DON'T THINK HE WANTS TO FACE IT EITHER. YOU'RE A GOOD LISTENER.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:03

i try guess im good wwhen im not makin you feel like shit for openin up huh

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:03

YOU GOT IT, YEAH. ANY OTHER QUESTIONS, I GUESS? I'M OPEN TO ANSWERING.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:05

i cant really think of any to be honest you answwered evverythin i needed to knoww

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:06

ALRIGHT, WELL IS THERE ANYTHING YOU WANT TO KNOW LIKE, I DON'T KNOW. HOW TALL I AM. LIFE EXPERIANCES. WHAT'S THE BIGGEST TROLL I'VE EVER FOUGHT. THE MOST CAEGERS OR BEETLES I'VE EVER WON.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:06

howw old are you

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:07

NINE, NEARLY TEN. WHAT ABOUT YOU?

eridan | mags - Today at 9:07

wwell then youre evven younger than me

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:07

ALSO, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I LOOK LIKE, DO YOU. FUCK.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:07

recently turned ten though and yeah no i dont

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:07

I'LL UPLOAD SOMETHING TODAY OR TOMORROW OR SOMETHING.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:08

i wwas alwways satisfied wwith my imagination of you but yeah id like to see it

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:11

courtingGrievances [CG] sent file -wWzIKy1g.png- to [CA] at ??:?? DOES THAT SATISFY YOUR IMAGINATION?

eridan | mags - Today at 9:12

oh oh huh you dont you dont look as bad as i thought you wwould

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:12

WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

eridan | mags - Today at 9:13

you look good is wwhat i mean

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:14

DID YOU HEAR THAT?? THAT WAS THE SOUND MY HEAD MADE AS I DROPPED MY PALMHUSK ONTO MY FUCKING FACE.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:15

wwhat wwhy

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:15

NO REASON. MY FINGERS ARE COLD. I'M SLIGHTLY TIRED. THERE WAS A WIND. I DON'T TAKE COMPLIMENTS WELL APPARENTLY.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:16

oh uh i mean i didnt say anythin really you just dont look bad you knoww and its a relief

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:16

A... RELIEF? HEY, WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?

eridan | mags - Today at 9:21

im not friends wwith ugly people

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:21

WAIT, SO IF I WAS UGLY YOU WOULDN'T BE FRIENDS WITH ME? o:B

eridan | mags - Today at 9:22

probably i havve standards you knoww

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:23

I THINK THAT SUCKS. I'D MISS OUT ON YOUR PRESENCE BECAUSE I'D BE UGLY. NOT TO BE A FUCKING DOWNER OR ANYTHING. BUT I LIKE TALKING TO YOU, AND NOT BEING ABLE TO WOULD KIND OF SUCK.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:26

wwell you can be glad youre not then but really im not all that special

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:26

BUT ALSO, I DON'T THINK YOU MEAN THAT, BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT I WASN'T AS GOOD AS I LOOK. AND YOU STILL WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH ME. WANTED, I MEAN.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:27

people are glad wwhen they dont havve to talk to me

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:27

OKAY, LISTEN.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:27

wwell i thought you looked avverage

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:27

WE'VE BEEN TALKING PRETTY STRAIGHT FOR TWO WHOLE HOURS. IF I DIDN'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU, I WOULDN'T BE. WELL, FUCK.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:28

i mean youre doin most of the talkin so

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:28

SOOOO I'M RIGHT.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:30

shrug wwhatevver you wwanna think honestly

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:33

I TIHNK I'M RIGHT, AND I WANT TO TALK TO YOU, BECAUSE, OCCASSIONAL JACKASSERY ASIDE, I THINK YOU'VE GOT POTENTIAL, DAC. ALSO; IF OCCASSIONAL JACKASSERY WAS A PAYING JOB, WE'D BOTH BE RICHER THAN THE EMPRESS HERSELF. HAHAH.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:41

i mean to be fuckin honest but also i really doubt and evven if i do havve potential it wwent to wwaste already

Court (Kam) - Today at 9:43

STILL HERE, AREN'T YOU? DOESN'T THAT POINT TO SOME INNATE SENSE OF NEED, OF WANTING TO BE MORE? THERE'S STILL SOMETHING LEFT IN YOU, BUD. PROMISE. EVERYONE'S GIVEN YOU SHIT AND SOMETIMES RIGHTFULLY SO, AND YOU GET KNOCKED DOWN A LOT, BUT YOU ALWAYS GET RIGHT BACK UP, YEAH? YOU'RE LIKE A FIGHTER. LIKE ME. I KNOW THIS ISN'T ALL YOU'VE GOT TO GIVE, YOU'VE JUST GOT TO FIND THE RIGHT PEOPLE TO GIVE IT TO. GOD. I NEED TO STOP TALKING, PROBABLY.

eridan | mags - Today at 9:59

no youre fine but uh i dont knoww i dont feel like much of a fighter wwhen i just you knoww do wwhat i gotta do

eridan | mags - Today at 10:00

you actually fight people and protect your friends and such wwhile i just do nothin

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:00

YOU FIGHT FOR YOURSELF. AND PROBABLY EVENTUALLY, SOMEONE ELSE TOO. YOUR QUADS, OR WHATEVER.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:01

wwhenevver i do its just outta place and unneeded and people get mad at me

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:06

I GET THAT. IT'LL CHANGE, EVENTUALLY. I'M RUNNING OUT OF WORDS, SORRY. IT'S BULLSHIT O CLOCK, BUT LISTEN... PEOPLE ARE ALWAYS GOING TO HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THE WAY OTHER PEOPLE DO THINGS. IT'S NOT THEIR JOB TO CHANGE YOU. IF YOU LIKE WHO YOU ARE, BE THAT. EVERYONE WHO CARES WILL LIKE YOU FOR YOU.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:08

evven if its my owwn kismesis gettin mad at me for protectin her a feww people called me manipulativve too just cause i wwanted her to be ok

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:23

WHAT DID YOU DO?

eridan | mags - Today at 10:25

someone wwas makin fun of her in public and tellin her howw she rules is awwful just cause she uses a lot of gifs of marie antoinette so i got mad and told him off but more people joined his friends probably and evventually she told me to shut up but i didnt wwant to and then i just got called manipulativve for wwantin to help her

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:26

THAT'S NOT HER GETTING MAD AT YOU FOR PROTECTING HER, THAT'S HER GETTING CONCERNED ABOUT YOU MAKING A FOOL OUT OF YOURSELF. WHEN THAT HAPPENS, YOU SHOULD MAKE YOUR STANCE KNOWN, BUT YOU SHOULDN'T PUSH IT. STAND UP FOR HER AND TELL THEM OFF, BUT DON'T REPLY FURTHER BEYOND SCORNFUL AND LAUGH-INDUCING GIFS RAGGING ON THE PEOPLE TRYING TO GET THE ONE UP ON YOU. WHAT PEOPLE ARE DOING WHEN THEY KEEP TRYING TO GET A RESPONSE OUT OF YOU IS TRYING TO MAKE YOU SLIP UP, MAKE A MISTAKE. GIVE THEM GIFS, NOT EFFORT, AND YOU SHOULD BE BETTER OFF.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:29

i still got a screenshot of wwhat someone said to me that kinda hit me - https://gyazo.com/7cee73e22a941c972692c37965269d1e - all i wwas tryin to fuckin do is protect her and evveryone wwas just against me suddenly it felt awwful karkat and i still cant get ovver it

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:30

YOU REMEMBER HOW YOU WERE MAKING ME FEEL BAD FOR DOING SHIT I FEEL LIKE I'VE GOT TO DO AND YOU WENT "IF YOU LOVED HIM, YOU'D DO THIS?"

eridan | mags - Today at 10:30

so next time i just back dowwn and let them make fun of her or wwhat

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:31

HOLD ON, LET ME FINISH THIS TRAIN OF THOUGHT FIRST.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:31

alright sorry im just ugh

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:32

THINGS IN THAT SORT OF FORMAT, LIKE "IF YOU LOVED HER, YOU'D DO THIS", AND "WOE IS ME, THIS BULLSHIT IS HAPPENING BECAUSE OF YOU" THAT MAKE SOMEONE FEEL BAD FOR THINGS BEYOND THEIR CONTROL, THAT'S GUILT TRIPPING. IT'S MAKING THEM FEEL GUILTY ABOUT THINGS THEY CAN'T CONTROL, OR THINGS THAT AREN'T THEIR FAULT. IT FUCKING SUCKS WHEN SHIT HAPPENS, BUT MOST PEOPLE DON'T CARE, AND THEY JUST GET OFFENDED AND PUT OUT WHEN YOU TRY TO TELL THEM SO LIKE THAT. YOU COULD TRY WORDING THINGS BETTER, LIKE... INSTEAD OF "YOU'RE GOING TO TURN ON ME TOO", YOU COULD SAY "I FEEL LIKE I'M ALONE HERE, ARE YOU AGAINST ME TOO?" OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT. OR FOR THE SHIT WHERE YOU WENT, "IF YOU LOVED HIM, YOU'D DO THIS" BIT, YOU COULD JUST HAVE SAID "BUT DON'T YOU WANT TO SEE HIM PROTECTED TOO?". MOST OF THE TIME, PHRASING IT LIKE A QUESTION KEEPS THE GENERAL PURPOSE ALIVE WITHOUT BRINGING GUILT DOWN TO THE OTHER PERSONS HEAD.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:36

so the wwhole thing wwith her wwas actually my fault and i got wwhat i deservved

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:37

NEXT TIME THIS BULLSHIT HAPPENS, JUST GIVE THEM ONE RESPONSE OUTLINING YOUR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS ON THE SUBJECT; IE, YOU'RE NOT HAPPY WITH THE WAY THEY'RE TREATING YOUR MOIRAIL AND SHE CAN POST WHATEVER SHE WANTS, IT'S NOT THEIR JOBS TO JUDGE HER STYLE OF RULING BASED ON GIFS OF SOME FICTIONAL WOMAN. IF THEY TRY TO BRING IT FURTHER, RESPOND WITH A GIF OF SOMEONE YAWNING, OR ACT BORED OF THE CURRENT CONVERSATION, AND DON'T GIVE THEM MORE FUEL FOR THE FIRE. PICTURES ARE WORTH MORE THAN WORDS.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:38

shes my kismesis but yeah alright

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:38

AS FOR THE WHOLE THING WITH HER, I WASN'T THERE SO I CAN'T SAY FOR SURE, BUT IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU WERE IN THE RIGHT TO PROTECT HER, BUT WRONG TO CARRY IT SO FAR, AND YOU SHOULD HAVE QUIT WHILE YOU WERE AHEAD. I DON'T THINK IT WAS YOUR FAULT, THOUGH. ROSEREDMUTANT SOUNDS LIKE A FUCKING JACKASS.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:38

shrug evveryone sounds like a jackass wwhen they talk to me evveryone just treats me like dirt

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:39

THE MOST IMPORTANT THING YOU NEED TO LEARN, I THINK, IS WHEN TO STOP. THERE'S NO POINT BEATING A DEAD HORSE, AND IF YOUR KISMESIS SAYS STOP, YOU SHOULD SAY WHY, AND ASK HER TO BE HONEST. AND IF SHE TELLS YOU WHY, AND SHE'S HONEST AND TELLS YOU WHY AND IT'S A GOOD REASON, YOU SHOULD STOP, REGARDLESS, OR ASK HER TO COME MAKE YOU STOP. SHE'S YOUR KISMESIS FOR A REASON, IT'S HER JOB TO HELP KEEP YOU FROM FIGHTING WITH THE RIFFRAFF, TO DISTRACT YOU FROM OTHER FIGHTS AND MAKE YOU FOCUS ON HER. HER JOB TO HELP YOU IMPROVE YOURSELF THROUGH LEARNING WHAT BATTLES TO PICK, TO HELP YOU LEARN YOUR LIMITS, IN ARGUMENTS AND OTHERWISE.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:42

so i just kinda trust her and stop next time

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:43

IF SHE'S "BEGGING YOU TO STOP" AND NOTHING ELSE, SHE NEEDS TO LEARN TO USE HER WORDS, ALSO. THERE IS NOTHING IN THIS MULTIVERSE THAT CAN'T BE SOLVED THROUGH SOME SORT OF ARGUMENT OR CONVERSATION. YEAH, BASICALLY. SHIT SUCKS SOMETIMES BUT YOU DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO. TRUSTING HER WILL SHOW HER THAT YOU VALUE YOUR RELATIONSHIP.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:43

she didnt beg she just told me multiple times to back off and that its fine and she can deal wwith it on her owwn

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:43

HERE'S WHAT YOU SHOULD DO NEXT TIME.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:43

guess she doesnt like my help

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:43

OKAY, HOLD ON. YEAH, NO, THAT'S NOT RIGHT I MEAN. IT COULD BE POSSIBLE THAT SHE FELT LIKE YOU WERE VACCILATTING PINK, AND SHE FELT EXTREMELY DEFENSIVE ABOUT IT. YOU SHOULD TALK TO HER ABOUT THAT. BUT NO, IF SHE TELLS YOU TO STOP SOMETHING, SHE SHOULD AT LEAST HAVE A REASON, AND YOU'RE FUCKING QUADDED, SHE SHOULDN'T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING ALONE, AND NEXT TIME THAT SHIT HAPPENS. WHEN SHE TELLS YOU TO "STOP DEFENDING ME, BACK OFF, I CAN DO THIS ON MY OWN", YOU NEED TO TELL HER SOMETHING LIKE "I WILL BACK OFF BECAUSE YOU WANT ME TO AND I TRUST YOUR JUDGEMENT, BUT I NEED YOU TO TRUST ME ALSO" AND MAYBE SOMETHING LIKE "I NEED YOUR HELP TO BACK OFF, CAN YOU COME DISTRACT ME". BECAUSE, HAHA, THAT'S KIND OF HER JOB, AS YOUR KISMESIS, IS TO DISTRACT YOU FROM GETTING INTO SHIT YOU MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO HANDLE. EMOTIONALLY OR PHYSICALLY. THAT'S THE WHOLE FUCKING POINT OF KISMESITUDE.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:47

huh alright i nevver kneww that to be honest yeah i i guess ill havve to talk to her i dont knoww

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:48

HERE. https://fluffpuffandstuff.tumblr.com/post/156045666788/what-the-heck-am-ii-feeliing-labeliing-your

eridan | mags - Today at 10:49

i dont wwanna dig it up again but it might happen again and shrug

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:49

I SENT SOMETHING IN TO THIS E-ZINE AND I GOT THIS BACK, AND IT HELPED ME LABEL TEMP AND I INTO AN OMNIQUAD. YOU SHOULD READ IT TOO, ALRIGHT? AND EVEN IF YOU DON'T. HERE'S THE BASIC GIST. MATESPRITS PROTECT, KISMESIS' IMPROVE. MOIRAILS SOOTHE AND AUSPISTICES INTERVENE AS A TOPLEAF, AND WANT TO BE INTERVENED ON AS A BOTTOMLEAF.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:51

yeah i just got to that part

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:51

I'LL BREAK IT DOWN FOR YOU EVEN FURTHER IF YOU WANT, THIS SORT OF SHIT IS WHAT I USED TO THRIVE ON A FEW SWEEPS BACK, MARATHONING ROM-COMS LIKE THEY WERE THE HOTTEST NEW GAMEGRUB OF THE SEASONAL VENTURE.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:52

thats not all too surprisin to be honest hahaha but no i dont wwant to think about this more or else i just end up realisin i got flush feelins for my kismesis or somethin like that thatd just ruin things and make it evven wworse i just wwanted to be there cause i felt like as kismesises wwere a team you knoww

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:53

YOU WOULDN'T RUIN THINGS BY TALKING ABOUT YOUR EMOTIONS.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:53

yeah wwe hate eachother but also wwere still datin

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:53

EVERY, EVERY QUADRANT IS SUPPOSED TO TALK ABOUT THEIR EMOTIONS, JUST IN DIFFERENT WAYS.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:56

huh

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:56

IF YOU FEEL LIKE YOU VACILLATE, THEN TELL HER, GENTLY. IF SHE DOESN'T RETURN THEM, ASK IF THIS CHANGES ANYTHING. AND IF SHE SAYS YES, ASK HER, SPECIFICALLY, WHAT IT CHANGES. ASK HER (IN A DIFFERENT SENTENCE,) IF THIS CHANGES YOUR KISMESITUDE, AND IF SHE STILL /WANTS/ TO BE KISMESIS' WITH YOU. AND IF SHE SAYS NO. COME TO ME.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:56

no im not goin to do that

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:56

AND IF SHE SAYS YEAH, SHE STILL WANTS TO BE BLACK WITH YOU, THEN YOU'RE GOLDEN, AND NOTHING CHANGES. YEAH, NO, I DON'T BLAME YOU THERE. BETTER TO WAIT UNTIL YOU'VE GOT YOUR FEELINGS SECURELY LOCKED IN A BOX OR SOMETHING. THAT SHIT'S HEAVY.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:57

this could evven cause problems wwith my husband and im not into that

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:57

FAIR.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:57

ill just i guess talk to her about that stuff wwith that one fight that got out of hand but nothin more

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:58

JUST... ASK HER TO HELP YOU MORE WITH DISTRACTING YOU FROM FIGHTS YOU CAN'T HANDLE. USE THOSE WORDS.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:58

yeah ok

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:58

IF YOU CAN, APOLOGIZE FOR MAKING A SPECTACLE OUT OF YOURSELF. USE THOSE WORDS TOO.

eridan | mags - Today at 10:58

i dont like apologisin

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:58

ME EITHER. IT FEELS GROSS, DOESN'T IT?

eridan | mags - Today at 10:59

yeah

Court (Kam) - Today at 10:59

IT FEELS ALL... VULNERABLE AND SHIT.

eridan | mags - Today at 11:00

yeah i dont i dont like doin that so i rarely evver apologise i dont apologise if i dont gotta

Court (Kam) - Today at 11:00

YEAH. YEAH, YES. THAT BULLSHIT. IF I APOLOGIZE, I'M GENUINELY FUCKING FEELING IT, AND DITTO FOR YOU I'M ASSUMING?

eridan | mags - Today at 11:01

yeah actually lets start wwith it already sorry for uh dumpin this on you its not your job to do this i just i guess i cant help it i kinda wwhine to evverybody i dont knoww

Court (Kam) - Today at 11:02

DUDE, YOU'RE NOT WHINING. YOU'RE ASKING FOR HELP. THAT'S ALL A COMPLAIN OR A WHINE IS. IT'S THICKLY VEILED BUT THAT'S REALLY, WHAT IT COMES DOWN TO. YOU'RE HOPING SOMEONE WILL LISTEN AND DO SOMETHING TO STOP THE SOURCE OF YOUR WHINING, OR TO CONSOLE YOU AND HELP YOU FEEL BETTER ABOUT THE BULLSHIT THAT CAUSED THE WHINING OR COMPLAINING IN THE FIRST PLACE.

eridan | mags - Today at 11:03

i mean yeah but like its still not your duty you knoww i should be able to deal wwith my problems alone i guess god im just so pathetic

Court (Kam) - Today at 11:03

I SPENT HOURS WATCHING SHIT LIKE THIS AND YELLING AT THE CHARACTERS ON SCREEN, HONESTLY, I'M THE BEST PERSON FOR THE JOB, HAHA. UH, ALSO?? FUCK NO. DEALING WITH PROBLEMS ALONE FUCKING SUCKS. IT FEELS BAD AND YOU JUST GET FRUSTRATED BECAUSE YOU BURN OUT ON THAT SHIT. ASKING FOR HELP IS KEEPING YOU SANE AND KEEPING YOU SAFE. JUST FROWNED UPON IF YOU ASK ANYONE OTHER THAN PEOPLE CLOSE TO YOU.

eridan | mags - Today at 11:05

youre not my moirail though or evven my mate i shouldnt be talkin about this wwith you of all people

Court (Kam) - Today at 11:05

I'M NOT YOUR MOIRAIL OR YOUR MATE, YEAH, BUT I'M YOUR FRIEND. A GOOD ONE, I THINK, AT THIS POINT. FRIENDS GOTTA BE THERE FOR YOU.

eridan | mags - Today at 11:06

yeah i guess thanks

Court (Kam) - Today at 11:06

IF MATESPRITS PROTECT, KISMESIS' IMPROVE. MOIRAILS SOOTHE AND AUSPISTICES INTERVENE, FRIENDS LISTEN. THEY'RE THERE WHEN YOU NEED SOMEONE TO JUST LISTEN, AND MAYBE OFFER ADVICE. HONESTLY, I WISH I'D OFFERED THIS KIND OF ADVICE WHEN I WAS YOUNGER. MAYBE I COULD HAVE KEPT MY OLD FRIENDS BACK TOGETHER. MAYBE I'D ACTUALLY KNOW WHERE SOME OF THEM ARE. IF THEY'RE EVEN ALIVE.

eridan | mags - Today at 11:07

wwell at least you learnt from it and youre better noww

Court (Kam) - Today at 11:07

I HOPE I'M BETTER. I KIND OF FEEL LIKE EVERYTHING I'M SAYING IS GOING IN ONE FIN AND OUT THE OTHER, BUT YOU SEEM HAPPY WITH WHAT I'M GOING ON ABOUT.

eridan | mags - Today at 11:07

i dont knoww howw you used to be but i knoww youre good noww shrug still youre doin better than evveryone else i met before you so i guess theres that

Court (Kam) - Today at 11:08

... BETTER AT BEING A FRIEND? SHIT, I'M SORRY. YOU MUST HAVE HAD SOME PRETTY SHIT ONES BEFORE NOW, THEN.

eridan | mags - Today at 11:09

i dont just forget the things you say i got better about hemoism and i remember you havve a mate and i wwanna talk to fef about the shit and stuff friends relationships just evverythin

Court (Kam) - Today at 11:09

(:B

eridan | mags - Today at 11:10

but yeah thanks i guess im gonna take a nap i think

Court (Kam) - Today at 11:11

ALRIGHT. I... HOPE THIS WAS A GOOD CONVERSATION. SEEMED LIKE ONE TO ME, AT LEAST. SEE YOU LATER? I'M ALWAYS REACHABLE HERE... AND IF I DON'T RESPOND, SOMETHING'S PROBABLY UP. I'LL. UH. I'LL ADD YOUR MESSENGER HANDLE TO A LIST OF HANDLES ASSOCIATED WITH OUR DEADMANS SWITCH. SO IF SOME BULLSHIT HAPPENS, YOU'LL KNOW WHEN AND WHERE.

eridan | mags - Today at 11:17

oh wwell thanks thats good to knoww but yeah see you around

Court (Kam) - Today at 11:19

courtinggrievances [CG] has ceased trolling [CA?]

#chatlogs #eridacnis #posted privately to check some formatting things #god this is why i don't do the formatting and i let other people do it but im in a rush cause sleep calls me #read ooc #also #ask to tag

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