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savagecowboy · 1 year ago

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𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

“You’re a disease”. “You’d know. Didn’t you start the plague?”

Homer takes a wild swing at Severen who leans back away from him, dodging the blow, but overbalancing his chair, spilling himself out of it. Splayed on the floor, the cowboy rolls his eyes as Homer over zealously laughs at his expense.

“Eat it up, cause it’s the only thing you’re gettin’ a’night!” Declaration made, Severen sits up and makes to grab his elder. Homer barely succeeds in dashing back out of reach, feeling the close swipe whisk through the air between them.

Homer is usually not one for physical games, especially ones involving the renowned cheat, yet he remains engaged. Staying just out of grasp, he taunts Severen, who becomes more and more agitated when unable to get a grip on the smaller creature. It is difficult to tell if one is indulging the other in these antics; holding back just enough to keep them slightly less than equal. Regardless, it is ended by Severen frustratedly tackling Homer in a bear hug. He digs his rough knuckles into the mess of dirty, chestnut hair, giving the boy-thing a searing noogie. Homer thrashes his legs wildly, kicking one of the table legs. The table jostles violently, nearly tipping the objects upon it, earning the roughhousing miscreants a sharp bark of reproach from Diamondback.

“Hey ! Knock it off !” She snaps, they desist, Severen releasing his quarry who jumps to his feet and dusts himself off; giving Severen a sharp kick in the ribs.

“We was only playin’” the younger of the two grumbles from the ground, massaging his side. He catches the blonde’s narrowed glare and doubles down with an aggressive scowl.

“Severen, ain’t you already grown? Weren’t you raised by the time we met?” Before the addressed can answer, Jesse interjects. “Only thing that raised that boy was hell itself” he says lighting the end of a cigarette. It’s subtle, but he shoots Severen a half smirk of allegiance that drops as soon he pulls the cigarette away to exhale.

“Alright”, the Savage One huffs, rising up and straightening his jacket, “I can tell when I ain’t wanted”. He gives those gathered a dirty look and heads for the door. “If you could tell that, you woulda left hours ago”, Homer retorts, the soft lilt of his boyish voice adding a scathing edge to his words. Severen glares over his shoulder at the youthful seeming creature, curling his lip in a snarl. He grabs the knob of the door, ready to throw it open, pausing just a moment.

“Need anythin’ while I’m out”

Even when playing at being a suffering martyr, it is impossible to shirk his self appointed duty. They each played a role, an irreplaceable part of a united whole. It was what gave them strength, it was what made them invincible.

“No, enjoy yourself Sever’n”. The Silvered One speaks without facing his longtime companion. They say more in quiet ways to one another than out loud. Their’s is a language that goes unspoken, a mutual understanding that is simply known.

“Don’t be out too long” Diamondback issues her customary warning, always the same— if not phrased a little differently for each. Twisting the handle, Severen opens the door a crack before Homer gets in the last word.

“You owe me a new book”.

He dumps the two uneven halves of the ruined text onto the coffee table by the couch he has slumped on. “Ya?” Severen mutters, glancing at the object that had instigated their row, “only if you admit that was a clean kick!” He ducks out the door just as Homer hurls the mangled book at him, the heavy thump followed by Severen’s muffled laughter on the other side.

If he hadn’t believed there was a chance that the indolent cretin would make good on his delivery, Homer would have been more genuinely upset. Not that he wasn’t currently, but there was a part of him— hard as it might be to admit— that knew even as insufferable as the cowboy could be, he owed everything to having been taken in by him and Jesse. That was something he would put up with a thousand Severen’s for. It meant everything to him to have a family again, to be wanted by others. Accepted, maybe loved— though none of them spoke in those words.

For the most part, they didn’t need to. Love was something most admitted to, but they intrinsically knew the bond they shared. There would be nothing to gain and all to lose were it severed. They were pieces of a whole that knew no end— would never know one. So squabble as they might, as families often did, there was no parting ways. Should they—could they—it would be an eternal suffering, perhaps more than that. It would be a death undying. A wound that would never heal, never finish bleeding, one that would be suffered endlessly. It would be better to die alongside the others.

“You want in on this?” Jesse called out from the table.

The repetitious sound of shuffling broke through Homer’s reverie, the eldest of them having gotten lost in his thoughts. Blinking, he stares back at the two remaining, noting the calculating ways in which they watch. They think they are the only ones who are perceptive of their “children’s” emotions, but they too are studied. No action goes unnoticed by any.

“Sure”, he agrees, rising to take the seat offered, listening to the soft shush-shush of the plasticized paper sliding over the table’s surface. He had nothing better to do now, his book a ruin after the show off sliced his spur through it, but he knows it is more the despondent look upon his face that caused the two to call him over.

Homer is aware that he has never quite overcome the overwhelming loneliness that plagued him over the decades he spent on the streets. They have tried to show him patience and companionship, none of it is ever quite enough. He doesn’t know if it ever can be. There is something more he feels he needs. A perfect piece to bridge the gap he feels inside. He doesn’t know if one even exists. Sometimes he’s not sure he wants it to. When one has lived with a particular horror for long enough, it becomes its own strange comfort. Were he to reckon with the vestiges of his past, be whole on his own, would he even need this family then? Would they still be a family were he to have his own…companion?

He must have been drifting again, because he feels The Pale One’s cold fingers wrap around his wrist. She gives him a gentle squeeze and Homer responds with the minutest of grins, sliding his cards toward himself. He doesn’t need to ask what they are playing, it’s always poker with Jesse. Diamondback can sometimes coax the boys into Hearts, or Gin Rummy, hell even Severen took a shine to dice, but Jesse always stuck to one game. At a glance, Homer slides two cards to Jesse, Diamond passing back one. Dutifully, he deals them back fresh cards and they silently study their hands.

“Can I get one’a those?” Homer asks Jesse, putting his Jack by the Queen. Jesse slips another cigarette from the pack and lights it off his own, handing it over as he mulled over his five cards.

“You sure you shuffled these?” Diamondback mutters, her comment seeming calculated, but she of all is the hardest to read. Maybe it was her time as an actress, or perhaps a side effect of her own turning, but neither man can get a good take on if she is bluffing or not. Casually, she tosses in a handful of change, poker chips in short supply. Homer looks at what is piled beside him and matches, though he has a needling feeling that he probably has the worst hand of the three. He takes a long drag on his cigarette and lets the smoke drift from his mouth.

“Raise” Jesse informs them, tossing in a stack of silver. “Bullshit” Diamondback laughs. Her lover gives her a lopsided grin, and Homer can see a slight awkwardness to it. Diamondback catches the same mistaken tell. They each double down to force him out, but Jesse isn’t ready to be cut short. The card game turns from one of skill to a game of chicken.

And ends with Jesse crashing.

“Shit” he grumbles, “I fold”. Both the boy and the blonde laugh, Homer not even upset about losing his small stash to Diamond, the two merry in their triumph against their leader. It is then that the game is interrupted by the sound of the door reopening.

None had expected Severen back so soon, but there is no doubt of it being any other. Still, Homer sees Jesse’s hand hover near the holster at his hip, caution was never a thing to lose.

The first sound is laughter, loud and boisterous. It has three sources. One of which is indeed their formerly haughty protector, yet he is not the first through the door. It is a middle aged woman who looks fit for the honky-tonk, her friend, dressed similarly follows closely behind. Neither notices the others in the room at first, too busy sharing furtive glances at the man who has led them here. He must have put on quite the show, as they seem truly smitten. Slowly, the women quiet into giggles as Severen closes the door behind him and they catch the faces staring back at them from the table.

The lock clicks.

“Oh, we didn’t know you was with someone”, one of the women uncomfortably titters, it is clear she was expecting they would be getting Severen alone. The other tries to save face by acknowledging the one she assumes is a child.

“Hi there sweetie, you’re up awful late”. Homer doesn’t answer, just exhales a plume of grey smoke. The woman’s smile drops, her hands clutching her purse strap.

“Gee, maybe we best better go” the lady closest to the Savage One says, resting gaudily painted nails on his shoulder. “Maybe it’s a little past all our bedtimes”. “Awh c’mon darlin’” he croons, passing his fingertips over her cheek to cup the side of her face in his palm, “we’re only just gettin’ started”.

He curls his fingers into her hair, close by the root, then yanks it into a tight fist. The sudden shock of pain causes her to jerk and stumble, clinging onto his arm to keep from falling. Her reliance on him is a mistake, he leverages it to push her to her knees, other hand wrapping around the woman’s throat.

Her horrified friend is too bewildered to act. She looks to Homer. It is his experience that adults often think that the presence of a child assures them safety. For what harm would one allow around one so innocent?

It is a naive thought, one he is happy to rid her of. The boy-like creature rises from his chair, slowly walking over to where she is still hunched, jaw slack in disbelief, and jabs his cigarette out in her eye. She wails loudly, but he does not care for her suffering. Homer bites into her cheek, blood burbling up around his teeth. The volume of her scream rises and she strikes at his head, but none of her halfhearted attacks dissuade him. Her friend harmonizes with her own shriek of terror, Severen getting his own teeth wet by the sound of it.

There is a change in the woman’s position and Homer releases his hold. Backing up, he realizes that Diamondback and Jesse have come to either side of the victim, restraining her arms so they each may also have a taste. He gives a small smile, having no issues with sharing. It would be too much for him to finish anyway, and the three feed in silent appreciation.

Severen, on the other hand, makes a mess of his chosen prey. She is bent backward, head at an extreme tilt, his mouth to the woman’s exposed throat, having nearly decapitated her with his wide, deep bites. His loud gulps can be heard over their own, and the three know he is only beginning his carnage. Eventually, the two women grow still, what life they had to give consumed by the monsters amongst them.

Once finished, Jesse and Diamond retire to the bathroom, seeking privacy to clean up, though other activities are likely to take place. It leaves Homer with Severen. The latter is messily licking his fingers and picking skin out of his teeth, looking like he could still go for more; even though the woman he had been dining on is in a ruinous state.

“You can’t do anything simply, can you?” Homer asks, though his only answer is a shrug he fairly expected. Severen never seemed to feel the need to explain any of his actions, whether controlled or reckless. He was a being of pure motivation, and little recourse. Homer nearly respected that, though he doubted he could ever fully disavow the underlying disdain he felt for his fellow immortal.

“Did you even get me a book?” He sighs, disappointment rife in his tone. Severen had never yet broken a promise—even one unspoken— to him, but when in the midst of finding targets to sate himself (and his fellows) it was more than believable that the gluttonous brute would have forgotten. Severen snags the bag that had fallen to the floor during his attack, and tosses it to his companion. Homer cocked a brow, doubting the contents therein could have anything of interest. Should the woman have indeed been carrying something that could be deemed literature, it would most likely have a shirtless man and a bosomy seductress on the cover. His surprise was truly genuine to see a rather thick volume of collected short works by Herman Melville.

“ I dunno if it’s any good” Severen admitted, “but you got your book.” With that he got to his feet and tossed himself onto the couch. Homer could not help the genuine smile on his face, earlier musings resurfacing.

On his own he had led a desolate existence, one that knew only the struggle of basic survival. This pack, this family, though frustrating at times, had shown him what their life could be, the true joys of the night. Something other than hiding in shadows. Severen caught Homer’s absentminded grinning and frowned, suspicion written on his face. “ What ? ”

Homer didn’t answer, instead he crossed over to sit on the other end of the well worn sofa and cracked open the text; leaning back deep into the cushions. “What’re you grinnin’ about?” Severen persisted, but Homer ignored him, turning to the first written page and letting the words roll over his mind. He was happy here, content, if not fully satisfied. Perhaps none of them were completely fulfilled. Not entirely, yet the things they were lacking were minor in spite of everything.

Homer could cope, at least he thought he could, for now, if not forever.

#near dark #near dark fanfic #severen van sickle #bill paxton #✘ ONE SHOT.

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chxrgebxltmeltdown · 5 months ago

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“IM A HORRIBLE FRIENDDDDDD!!!!” Cue the tears.

❝ wow, couldn't even get a six?? and you call yourself my best friend... sorry, man, title's gotta go to mina now. ❞ are they serious? are they kidding? who knows!

ft. denki kaminari, @chxrgebxltmeltdown

#auditioheros #melting down || ic #what we playin? || dash games

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jimi-rawlings · 11 months ago

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Pop Smoke - PTSD (Official Audio)

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Survivor guilt or survivor's guilt (but also survivor syndrome, survivor's syndrome, survivor disorder and survivor's disorder) is a mental condition that occurs when a person believes they have done something wrong by surviving a traumatic or tragic event when others did not.

My PTSD startin' to kick in so I gotta get high

Uh, uh, ay

My PTSD startin' to kick in so I gotta get high

Trey shot that nigga out my car so now I gotta get low

I ain't no city boy 'cause I love my bitch

Nigga, but that don't mean that I don't love my hoes

Niggas tried to smack me up so now I'm raising hell

Don't try and dap me lil' nigga you are not my bro

Trey shot that nigga out my car so now I gotta get low

They know we bend blocks, welcome to the party

Dot on the head of his only daughter

Then I dunk her head in that holy water

Niggas shootin', we gon' shoot back

Sittin' at the table like Tha Carter 5

They know I'ma do ya

Aimin' for medulla

Cooler than a cooler

Shoota with a shoota

AK on my shoulder like I'm Malcom X

'Cause I ain't goin' out like I'm Martin Luther

Nigga open up the door nigga I know you home

It's a hundred Crip niggas standing on ya lawn

Give up that cheese, give that Provolone

And I ain't talkin' on the phone 'cause I ain't playin' with 'em

I got a K for the cuz if he hit you

If I call Nappy Blue he comin' to get you

Call Dread, that's the new Tom Brady

'Cause he be sendin' shots like it's missle

My PTSD startin' to kick in so I gotta get high

Trey shot that nigga out my car so now I gotta get low

I ain't no city boy 'cause I love my bitch

Nigga, but that don't mean that I don't love my hoes

Niggas tried to smack me up so now I'm raising hell

Don't try and dap me lil' nigga you are not my bro

Trey shot that nigga out my car so now I gotta get low

They know we bend blocks, welcome to the party

Niggas always talkin' hot and runnin' they mouth

Until I kick down they door and run in they house

Have they mother on the floor with the gun in her mouth

Like what's that shit up on the net that y'all was talkin' bout

I put that on my son that I'ma take it there

'Cause where you come from and where I come from I ain't playin' fair

My lil' homie died and I ain't drop a tear

I just roll a spliff and put it in the air

I'm big 092 niggas know I'm woo

I look a nigga in his face like, "Who you talkin' to?"

I need 25k or I ain't walkin' through

I spent 20 on my wrist and 20 on a chain

I be spoiling myself so I could ease the pain

Digital dash I be switching lanes

I was sitting on the bench but now I'm in the game

My PTSD startin' to kick in so I gotta get high

Trey shot that nigga out my car so now I gotta get low

I ain't no city boy 'cause I love my bitch

Nigga, but that don't mean that I don't love my hoes

Niggas tried to smack me up so now I'm raising hell

Don't try and dap me lil' nigga you are not my bro

Trey shot that nigga out my car so now I gotta get low

They know we bend blocks, welcome to the party

GERVAIS

#Youtube

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yumenosakiacademy · 1 year ago

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i hav created a godly lil treat combo.

grab a piece of sandwich bread (idfc what type so long as its the off-the-shelve sliced soft shit. honeywheat is prob better, but all We hav is butterbread. put an F in the chat, beastie)

get a spoonful of cool whip (how loaded u make ur spoon is Up To You, but no less than like 3/4 of a normal spoon amount or else ur playin a weak fool's game) n smear tht shit across ur bread slice.

get out thy ground cinnamon. put a few dashes on there. not a palsy sprinkle mind u. get like 3 solid taps on there. smear THT shit across the aforementioned cool whip. it should turn v light brown at this point. VERY light brown tho. like. barely tinted.

(4 maximum enjoyment n Perfecto texture, peel off the crust n eat tht underwhelming shit 1st. dunk in extra cool whip if u want or make Sure 2 spread some on those parts when ur initially smearing the stuff on so the crust doesnt just taste like fuck all.)

BADA BING BADA BOOM u hav a soft fluffy lil treat.

#i remembered tht fruit sandwiches exist in japan but none of the fruit in our house is rly fit 4 tht n whatnot but i was like i bet u #the cool whip would match Rly well w the v good spongey fluffy texture of sandwich bread anyway so i grabbed some cinna 2 elev8 it #delete later

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22hounds · 3 years ago

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tickets for ; jujutsu kaisen characters reacting to…

playin now ; your cracked phone screen

(for reference your phone screen looks like this 🤨)

cast list : gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, nanami kento

gojo satoru 」

- yay matching phone screens!!!

- this bitch’s phone literally looks like he’s taken it to bungee jumpin

- no idea how he can still use it without cutting his hand but we’re not questioning that 😬

- fixing his phone? getting a new one? el em a oh he has better places to spend his girthy thick voluptuous stack of cash on

- people look at you two in horror when you pull your phones out but he thinks it’s because of you two’s dashing looks 😌

- im not kidding like a cracked phone screen rlly does things to someone if i were runnin at someone and they pull out a magnum cracked phone i would turn the other way

- i’m like 90% sure y’all use your phones as a weapon because how the fuck did it get that cracked

fushiguro megumi 」

- having lived with gojo he’s used to it by now

- but he definitely judges you when you pull out your phone

- side eyes you n all that

- he’s a bitch about it too going like “damn that screen’s more fragile than your ego” every ten minutes

- avoids your phone like its the damn plague bro what did my screen do to you 🗿

- tries his hardest to convince you to buy a new one because he literally cannot bear to see that phone suffer any more

- i don’t blame him some of you are throwin your phones across the room like its a one man game of hot potato and you’re playin with a nokia

nanami kento 」

- confused

- how the fuck did you crack your phone that much do you fight godzilla on ur way to work???

- lectures you (but wouldn’t we all like that 😳)

- will not touch your phone w a ten feet pole he’s that petty

- of course his phone is pristine how else would he survive

- offers to buy you a new one but you decline outta pure spite

- that phone is hanging onto a thread let it go

- looks at you horrifiedly whenever you swipe your finger across that screen

- hes sure that one day you’ll stab yourself with that glass because what the fuck why would you scroll so casually with that nuclear weapon of a phone 😭

(rip this is my first time trying my hand at writing please excuse my lack of comedic talent)

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #nanami kento x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen reactions #sr: jjk #gen: reactions #zemontag

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chxrgebxltmeltdown · 7 months ago

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Did this for my other blog, now have one for Denks <3

#What we playin? || dash games

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saetoru · 2 years ago

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Bestie i was literally trying to ignore genshin impact afraid i was going to become addicted to it (bcuz it seems really fun) but ever since I've seen u post about playing it i was like "fuck it, it sounds fun I'm playin it rn" so i downloaded it but I'm too scared to open it bcuz if i become too obsessed I'd have to say goodbye to all the shows n animes i watch bcuz i most likely will be playing nonstop so i can progress n learn more about it, cuz that's what i do to every single game i play lmfao😂💀

If I'm not mistaken it is a multiplayer game so I'll get my friend to play it with me so we can waste precious time together😌✨(n bcuz i love annoying him lol)

JHBSDJHFV i promised cat id play w her and plus i feel like its the one fandom missing from my collection LMAO i have like pretty much all the fandoms under the sun on my masterlist 😭

except maybe csm and blue lock BUT i rly wanna watch the animes for those but i started blue lock bc all my moots have been talking about it a lot lately on dash and i was like ... ok fine BUT CSM im waiting for the anime

BUT i feel u bc i deadass spent the whole day playing genshin 😭 rip all my writing wip SOBSS

#☏ — pick up the phone!#☏ — caller id: mi0o

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stephspurs · 3 years ago

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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

hey besties!! here is part 8! Part 8 see's Amelia in a change of colours, her friendship with Jorgi explored more, an awkward Chelsea player and a cheeky Villa boy. Please enjoy & send me your thoughts! Love always, Steph xx

Part 8. | parte otto

word count; 1569 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Wednesday 11/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

Landing in the rarely-sunny but always wonderful London town, Amelia was swiftly picked up from the airport by a man in a blacked out Mercedes van and driven away to her new club-appointed accommodation in the royal borough of Kensington and Chelsea. The 24 year old couldn’t help but feel a sense of home resonating through her body. Yes, Italy was also her home for the last 3 years, but there was something in the air in London that really made her believe that this is where she was meant to be.

Whilst happy that her quintessentially-British townhouse was a mere stones throw from Stamford Bridge and her family home just on the other side of the park in Holland Park she was still a 30+ minute commute, without traffic & one way, from Cobham. Beggars can’t be choosers, at least this way she was close to the hustle and bustle of London City, as well as her family and old friends.

A few days had passed since her talk with Fede, her swift departure from bella Italia saw only a small gathering occur at her apartment with some of the juventus boys on the eve before her flight. Constant check-ins from La Cosa Nostra whatsapp group chat, of course the word had spread to the rest of the Italian national team before she had even returned home from Fede’s place, meant that she was never left alone to her thoughts for too long.

Keeping the promise he had made when she phoned to tell him the news, Jorgi was knocking on her front door at 7:30am the following Monday morning, ready to drive the both of them to Cobham for Amelia’s first full day of work. He was the only person who knew she was taking this offer, other than the professional staff at Chelsea FC who had to organise her contract, so it was very much a nerve-wracking drive to the suburban training ground.

“Sapevo che stavi bene con il blu Azzurri, ma il blu Chelsea è un'altra benedizione che mi è stata conferita” (i knew you looked good in Azzurri blue, but Chelsea blue is another blessing bestowed upon me) Jorgi exclaimed as she opened the door to his car and slid in, having stopped right in front of her house in a no-park zone.

“Morning Jorgi, Thanks so much for picking me up - i’ll sort out a car this weekend i suppose”

“It's not a problem, I'm only a couple of streets away anyway so it's not out of my way.”

The pair caught up on the past couple of weeks without each other, speaking on the Fede situation and Amelia’s feelings. The best thing about Jorgi was how he was able to see both sides of the story. He valued Amelia's opinion and feelings as much as his long-time friend, Fede. He knew how hard it was for both parties to come to an amicable separation & he was making a mental note to call his italian pal to thank him for letting the girl go.

Amelia’s first day at Cobham was heavily administrative, spending a lot of time sorting out paperwork, meeting the team of staff she would be joining, getting her uniform, sorting out her office. After a quick bite to eat with the head analyst, Paolo (she just couldn’t seem to escape the Italians altogether), she collected her leather bound notebook and followed her colleague to the first team wing of Cobham. Whilst she was strictly working with the first team, she had expressed interest early on & stipulated it in her formal acceptance, that she wanted the opportunity to work with the academy players and the freedom to dip into the talent pool of Chelsea youth, to assist in perfecting her tactical plays.

She couldn’t deny that the blue of her uniform was the perfect shade to bring out the blue in her more-often-than-not grey eyes, she felt comfortable in it, she felt part of the team. Pushing open the door ahead of them, Paolo stood to the side like a true gentleman and gestured to Amelia through the door first.

______________________________________________________________

Walking in, I noticed that the scene in front of me was similar to the first time I met with some of these players. With their backs to me, facing the front, listening to every word that Tuchel was saying to them. I snuck in, stood to the side and waited for my introduction which came very shortly after.

“I want you all to meet the new tactical analyst that the club has appointed following a very successful european campaign this past summer, Amelia White” Thomas directed towards me, and just like that, a slight bit of deja-vu settled in as i watched 30+ sets of eyes turn to look at me. Some were happy to see me, some were polite and offered a small smile, and just one set looked a little shocked and very guilty.

“I trust you all will treat her with the respect that you show me, Paolo and all other members of this professional staff. We had to fight tooth and nail for this girl to join us and I can’t express how lucky we all are to be learning from her.” Tuchel dismissed his team, Jorgi pushing through the chairs to get to me.

“Amelia! What a surprise! Why didn’t you tell me about this!” Jorgi rushed over to me and wrapped me in a hug that I didn't return. Less than impressed with the boy's antics and sarcasm.

“Oh be quiet, you drove us both here today.” I spoke with a smile and rolled my eyes.

“Always the trouble maker Jorgi!” Mason Mount spoke from behind him.

“Amelia, nice to see you again! Can’t believe you didn’t tell us in the group chat!” Mason continued as he greeted me hello.

“Haha yeah, it all happened very quickly & to be honest, my decision wasn’t final until a couple of days ago. I had a few opportunities and I had to weigh up my options, Chelsea were willing to go a bit above the other clubs so it became obvious. Besides, someone once told me I would look good in the Chelsea blue” That someone also being the person who avoided my messages, and who is currently avoiding my eyes.

Later that evening.

“As if I deserved to know you picked the blues on sky sport?” Jack questioned the girl over facetime that evening, keeping their friendship tradition alive and cooking together.

“It all happened so quickly Jack, I was in talks with a few clubs and there was a bit of a tussle and negotiation stage and then I just had to pick one. Chelsea offered me the opportunity to foster the youth team talent and no one else was willing to cross-contaminate their professional staff” Amelia hurried down the phone, afraid that she hurt the brummie lad’s feelings.

“Calm down Mils, it's fine! I’m only playin wiv’ya. I’m happy for you - and me too, now I can come visit ya and have a place to stay in the city” He joked back to her. Jack had a certain way of calming the girl down, he reminded her a lot of Fede. He could read her before she came to terms with her own thoughts and feelings.

“Are you trying to tell me that you, with all of your friends and all of your money, need to rely on little old me for a place to stay in the city?” The joking tone went back to normal with the two flirtatious friends.

“No, I'm just saying that I'm happy you’re in the city. Ya know, it’s only a 2 hour drive. I could easily come down on a Friday after training and be back before a Sunday game…”

“2 hours is far too long to be in the car just to spend the day with me”

“That's where you’re wrong, it would be two nights and one whole day. Besides, 2 hours in the car is better than having to fly to get to you. I was prepared to do the latter anyway before your big move back to London” Oh did her heart swoon inside her chest, a quick blush spread across her cheeks and a little chuckle left her lips - unable to find the right words to say back to him.

Amelia knew the dangers of the situationship, this was exactly how it happened with Fede. She couldn’t help that she was naturally playful and flirtatious, she often didn't know she was doing it. Normal conversations to her often appeared like a hardcore flirt-fest to anyone who happened to be around the girl. She didn’t want to cross that line with Jack, she knew better than to do that, especially with how she hurt Fede in the end. She didn’t know where she was going to be in a few years, nor where he was going to be.

What she also recognised in the older lad that Fede also possessed, and she would be surprised if he didnt considering he is a professional football player, is that he was determined. Too determined that sometimes it was more about the chase and the challenge, rather than the aftermath or the reward. She knew Jack wouldn’t give up on her and would always be there for her. Was it bad that she enjoyed it?

Part 9. | nona parte

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1400trippieredd800 · 3 years ago

Text

Verse 1: Trippie Redd & Juice WRLD}

I just got a million bands today, 'Bout to go and spend a bag, blow them bands today, yeah, 'Bout to spend a hundred grand today, Lot of blue face hundreds, it's a blue band parade, yeah, Huh, grrah, shootin' out the Hummer today, I'm in a bad mood, so I feel like dumpin' today, yeah, I'm a bad move, I'ma dump at his face, Keep the toolie by my side, feel like Ratchet & Clank, yeah

{Verse 2: Juice WRLD & Trippie Redd}

Shoot out the Wraith, stick up, I need everything in your safe, nigga, huh, I'm with them gravediggers, we gon' dig your grave, nigga, huh, Pop molly at the rave, nigga, Chains on me, no slave, nigga, huh, We been in the cave, nigga, We done fucking made niggas, uh, Take your chain, nigga, What the fuck you claim, nigga?, 1400/800, bitch, I'm talking gang, nigga, We not the same, nigga, Big 14 Great Dane, nigga

{Verse 3: Juice WRLD}

Fuck what you claim, nigga, feel like the KKK, We kill you, then we hang niggas, Do that the same day, Pull up in the all grey, black Mustang, In the streets, I was hustlin', Run up on me, gun bustin', Uh, that's your best friend, that's my main thing, Uh, she give me titty, Tity Boi, 2 Chainz, uh, Get to the nitty-gritty, boy, new stains, uh, Pouring Prince up in my cup, no Purple Rain, I'm throwin' bands, I'm throwin' hands, and I ain't throwin' shade

{Verse 4: Trippie Redd}

Jumping out the bat cave, just like Bruce Wayne, Kickin' shit like Liu Kang, my plug Palupé, Big racks on us, blue thangs, Big blues, no clues, yay, Your bitch like to choose, ayy, But that's your boo, ain't it?, Take a flick, uh, licky on my dick, uh, On my blick, uh, while I take a shit, uh, And a piss, uh, sing to that bitch like Kiss, uh

{Verse 5: Juice WRLD}

Oh that's your bitch, huh, R. Kelly, I may just piss on her (Skrrt), I'm in a 'Rari, You make me mad, mad, I may shoot up your party, That lil' bitch she bad, but she fake, she a Barbie, But she still know to ride me like a fucking Harley, Ask me if I love her, I responded to her "Hardly"

{Verse 6: Trippie Redd}

Jumping off the top rope on that bitch like Matt Hardy, Why the fuck your pussy ass in here? This a gangsta party, "What? What? What?" Like I'm Playboi Carti, Got my robe on in this bitch, it's a PlayBoy party, That bitch hella plastic, that bitch just like a Barbie, Playin' games with all these hoes, this just like Atari, Kicked up, my feet up, sippin' Hennesy on a Safari, With a bunch of white bitches, and they all like, "Trippie Redd, you gnarly", Viral, iCarly

Verse 7: Juice WRLD}

She on the webcam, like Carly, That's your girl, I'm sorry, She was off the molly, Uh, I'm in the trap, I'm whippin', I got your auntie on my dope, She told me she ain't have enough money for them rocks, My dick up in her throat, I'm goin' hard, L.O.L. to the bank, no joke, You run up on me, you leapin' frog and you get croaked, Uh, huh, you know, Me and Trippie at a show, fuckin' these bitches after our show, Full of shit like I'm an A-hole, cash flow, All the way turnt up on these hoes, Roscoe Dash, uh

{Verse 8: Trippie Redd}

In Forgiatos, drillin' shit like Chicago, This semi-auto, pop his ass like a bottle, Sippin' Moscato, boolin' with bunch of models, Beat yo ass, beat yo ass (Beat it, beat it), Taekwando, Like a light, like a light, bitch, I shine, ho, I'm getting paid, but you will not get a dime, ho, yeah, Yeah, side bitch with some micros, Balls deep in that bitch, ball like Michael, ayy

{Outro: Trippie Redd}

Aight, we done bitch, you know what I'm sayin'?, Big 14, big hundred, 1400, 800, 9999, Know what I'm sayin'?, 150 ra-da, Know what I'm saying?, Gang, gang, gang, Huh?, Ha!!!

👺😈

#trippie redd #juice wlrd #lyrics

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the-awkward-outlaw · 5 years ago

Note

Hi! Before anything else, I just wanted to say that I absolutely adore your writing! So the scenario I had in mind: Arthur gets severely injured on a job and reader gets really protective (She also gets extremely angry angry at whatever happened/whoever caused it. Tbh it was probably Micah). She then cares for Arthur day by day until he’s better. He says he doesn’t want to be fussed over but in reality he secretly likes it.

Thanks for sending this, Anon, and thank you for the compliment! 🥰 Fluffy Arthur is my favorite Arthur (I would fucking die for this man!)

Masterlist

Read on AO3

You don’t like the look on Micah’s face. Not one bit. Then again, you’ve never trusted the slimy man leading you and Arthur down the muddy road of Valentine. He’s so damn arrogant and he always acts like his plans are going to go as smooth as butter, but then they almost always end in gunfire. There’s just something about him you don’t like.

Arthur’s by your side too, but if he’s as nervous as you are, he doesn’t show it. He and Micah trade some snappy remarks. They’ve never really liked each other, that much is obvious. Arthur holds your hand lazily, something he always likes to do when you’re both out and about. You squeeze his hand, wanting to let him know something doesn’t feel right. He squeezes back.

“Just relax, cowpoke,” Micah simpers, walking slightly ahead of the two of you. “This doctor's dim. I went and talked to him earlier, scoped the place out. This job’s on the level. You and your girl just go in there, rob whatever he’s got hidden in that back room, and get out. Easy as pie.”

“If it’s so easy, why didn’t you rob him when you was scopin’ the place?” Arthur retorts.

“Because I was playin’ injured, cowpoke. Besides, he’s likely to go snippin’ to the sheriff, what with him being next door. I ain’t so dumb as to rob the sheriff’s neighbor without someone to back me up.”

Arthur sighs. “Why do I get the feelin’ this is gonna end in us shootin’ our way out of this damn town?”

“Because that’s how Micah rolls,” you say, making sure he can hear you. “I ain’t ever known anyone so keen to trade bullets.”

“It ain’t gonna be like that! You both act like I go around, asking people to duel,” Micah growls. You roll your eyes. With Micah’s record, he might as well be doing that.

Micah leads you over to the doctor’s office. Then, leaning on a pillar holding up the building, he looks around, feigning innocence. “A’right, Y/N, you go and hold that doctor down. Arthur, go get the backroom. Should be easy. I’ll keep watch here, make sure no one suspects anything.”

“Why don’t you go rob the backroom and I’ll keep a watch on the street?” Arthur says.

“Because it’s my job, Morgan, I get to call the shots. Now do this quickly before someone sees us three lookin’ too chummy out here.”

Arthur mutters something but goes inside. You go in a second later and immediately pull out your pistol, aiming it at the doctor. “What you got in that backroom?” you growl.

The doctor, his face pale, licks his lips and raises his hands. “N-nothin’, I swear. Just a…. A friendly card game for folks willin’ to pay higher stakes.”

“Well why don’t we drop in on these high-payin’ folks?” Arthur says. He gestures with his revolver for the doctor to lead the way to the backroom. The doctor knocks on the metal door and a slot opens, revealing a pair of eyes. You and Arthur hide as to avoid being seen.

“J-just me,” the doctor says. “I brought some food and whiskey for you boys.”

“Eh, it’s only the doc.”

The door opens and you grab the doctor by his collar and shove him down into his exam chair, pointing your gun at him so he can’t run off to tattle. Arthur heads into the room and there’s immediate yells and a gun goes off. You hear something heavy fall, but you’re sure it’s nothing. Arthur’s more than capable of taking care of himself. That is until you hear someone inside laugh and say, “We got ‘im, boys! Arthur Morgan himself!”

Quickly, you smash your gun into the doctor’s head, knocking him out, then you dash into the room. There, you’re met by four O’Driscolls and a saloon girl. Arthur’s on the ground, sitting against a wall, a dark circle on his lower left side blooming wider. He’s groaning in pain, the gun knocked from his hand lying beyond his reach.

Before the O’Driscolls can point their guns from Arthur to you, you pull your trigger, taking them down with such speed it surprises even you. The saloon girl screams and backs into a corner.

“Don’t shoot!” she pleads.

“Arthur!” you whimper, ignoring her and going over to him. As you lean down to inspect him, he suddenly grabs your pistol and aims it at the saloon girl, who had managed to get a hold of one of the corpse’s guns. He shoots her and she falls.

“Oh, Goddamn it, Arthur!” you say. You unbutton his shirt and see a bullet wound below his ribs.

“It-it’s nothin’, darlin’.”

“Don’t look like nothin’. Come on.” With enormous effort, you help Arthur up to his feet. Then you haul him to the doctor’s exam chair, push the doctor’s unconscious body out of it, and plop Arthur into it.

“Okay, honey, stay with me. We gotta get this bullet out.”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just… let’s get out of here. That sheriff’s an idiot, but even he must’ve heard them gunshots.”

“I’ll be quick, Arthur. Just hold still.”

You run around the room, gathering instruments and bandages. You find a set of long, thin tongs, the perfect shape to do the job. Removing a bullet is a nasty business. You had it done once when you’d been shot in the leg years ago. It was one of the most painful things you’ve ever endured.

After gathering your things, you scour the doctor’s shelf up front. Micah peaks in.

“What the hell is taking so long? I talked the sheriff down since you couldn’t manage to keep things quiet.”

“Shut the fuck up, Micah. Arthur’s been shot. Just keep an eye out, make sure no one gets nosy.”

He rolls his eyes and leaves the room again. After hunting through the shelves, you come along a bottle of something labeled as aspirin. You’ve heard of this stuff, it was recently discovered to be a pain killer. You grab it and a bottle of unopened whiskey and go back to the room.

You shove several pills down Arthur’s throat and then pour some alcohol onto his wound. He yells out in pain, but then you instruct him to drink it.

“Arthur, this is gonna hurt like nothing else. But we gotta get this thing out,” you say sympathetically, holding the tongs.

He’s sweating profusely, but he nods and grips the arms of his chair. You work the cogs of the chair so it leans back, giving you a better angle. Then you go to work. It’s excruciating pain for him and you apologize as tears leak from his eyes. You pour more whiskey on the wound as you work, but you have to dig a bit to find the bullet. Finally, you grab it and pull it out. He gasps as you hold it up.

You quickly bandage him up, though you’re not satisfied with the job. Now there’s the problem of hiding his bloodied shirt so you can get him out of here. You help him to his feet and lead him to the front room and then quickly dash out to the horses, ignoring the blood on your hands. After retrieving his tan coat, you help him slide it on and then out to the horses. Micah’s waiting next to them, clearly impatient.

“So much for me bein’ the one who starts the gunfire,” Micah growls.

“Shut the fuck up before I put a bullet in your head,” you snarl. It takes all your strength to help Arthur up into his saddle, but he’s a trooper. He does his best to act normal as you all walk out of town, but it’s clear he’s in a lot of pain.

As soon as he’s in Horseshoe Overlook, you walk him over to his cot and he plops down into it. He pants heavily and you put your hand on his chest, sitting down by his side.

“Easy, honey. You can rest now.”

He grabs your hand, comforted by your presence. Slowly, you undress him, flinging his ruined shirt to the side. After closing the flaps of the tent so the others won’t see him lying half naked in his bed, you rejoin his side.

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

Over the next couple of weeks, you care for Arthur, hardly letting him leave his cot. He keeps pleading with you to stop fussing over him, that he’s an adult who can care for himself, but he loves it. He loves how protective you’ve gotten over him. Hell, Micah isn’t even allowed on this side of camp anymore. He’d probably have better chances of fighting off a cougar than you. Even Sean knows not to come over and rib Arthur for being laid up, even though he means it all in good fun.

Every day, you’ve gone out to collect fresh herbs from the surrounding area that will help with his pain. Not only that, but you usually bring back a rabbit or a turkey, some kind of small animal. Instead of giving them to Pearson though, you cook them over the scout fire and give Arthur as much as he can eat. He complains that he’s going to gain more weight than he’d like, but he secretly likes that you’re doing it.

Every night, he pulls you into his arms, stating you can’t go around being strong for the both of you all day. You love cuddling with him like this, hearing his heartbeat beneath your head, his warm skin against yours, his fingers tracing your scalp or back.

Of course, sometimes these evening cuddles lead to further activities, but you never let him be the dominant one. Usually he’s the top, but when he’s laid up like this, you won’t let him. Instead of being disappointed, he finds it incredibly sexy how you take control of things. He definitely intends to let things go this way after this.

Hosea comes up to him one day while you’re out collecting herbs. He’s one of the few people who can safely walk this close to your tent without fear of getting their ass kicked. He takes a seat next to Arthur, who’s writing in his journal.

“That girl eased up on you yet?” Hosea asks.

Arthur smiles softly. “No. Honestly I don’t think she intends to until this is barely even a scar anymore.” He gestures down to his bandages.

Hosea lets out a soft chuckle. “She’s tough, that girl. I’ve never seen Dutch so afraid of talking to someone before. Pretty sure she’s the only thing preventing him from coming over to you and begging you to get out there and ‘make us some money’.”

Arthur laughs. “Dutch is scared of her, huh?”

“You would be too if you saw how she looks at pretty much all of us. I’m surprised Micah’s still sticking around, honestly. She, uh, clocked him in the jaw the other night when he made it sound like you messed up in that doctor’s office.”

“I did mess up, Hosea. I wasn’t prepared enough. I just thought it’d be some ranchers who got more money in their pockets than most folk in that town. I didn’t expect those damn O’Driscolls.”

“It ain’t your fault, son. But you’ll be fine. Hell, you ain’t allowed to be anything else with that girl looking after you.”

Arthur chuckles again. “So she really gave Micah a good one, huh?”

“Oh yes. He’s got this big ol’ bruise on his face now. Like I said, I’m surprised he’s still in camp when she’s here.”

“Hosea, I uh, I been thinkin’. I wanna marry her.”

Hosea sits up straighter. “You sure? I know how your last engagement went, Arthur.”

“That was completely different, Hosea. I was young and dumber then. This ain’t the same. Y/N ain’t Mary. She’s…. She’s far better, and she makes me feel like I ain’t just a killer and a bad man. I… I don’t know how to describe what I feel about her, Hosea. All I know is if I don’t ask her, it’ll be the biggest regret of my life.”

Hosea smiles and puts his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Well, I’m happy for you, son. Being married was the best thing I ever did, and Y/N’s a special woman. You’d be a fool for not asking her.”

Just then, Hosea looks up to see you coming over, your hands full of herbs. He waves to you, in which you return it. He gives Arthur a curt nod and heads off.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Arthur says, closing his journal. You return the greeting and sit down by his feet, getting your things together to start grinding the herbs up.

“Hold on, sweetheart. Before ya get busy, come here.”

“Why?” you say, looking up at him.

“Just come here. Please?” he says, holding his arms out to you.

With a soft smile, you get up and crawl into his arms, letting him fold them around you and hold you close. He kisses your head softly, never wanting to let you go. He wants to ask you right now to be his wife, but the timing feels wrong. He wants it to be special, wants you to know how much he adores you.

“Thank you, darlin’, for everythin’ you done.”

“Of course, Arthur. I’d do it all over again if I needed to.” You place a soft kiss over his heart that makes him almost swoon. He knows now that he will never stop loving you.

Just as he’s about to say something, Strauss comes over and interrupts. “Herr Morgan, I have another job for you.”

“What is it, Strauss?” he asks, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I lent money to a fellow named Downes. Thomas Downes. I need you to reclaim the debt. Beat him, if you must.”

As quick as lightning, you leap up and glare at Strauss. Arthur’s told you how much he loathes this sharking business. You’re tired of it too. It’s a foul business and one you want him having no part of.

“If this money’s so important to you, Strauss, why don’t you go get it yourself?” you snarl.

He looks at you haughtily. “Because, Y/N, people are happy to take money from a man like me, but less willing to give it back.”

“Well then maybe you need to grow a damn spine for once and do your own damn dirty work. Either that or find another way of making money for the gang. One with less… filth.”

“I am the one feeding you and the other women in camp-” he begins but you shove him so hard he takes several steps back.

“Bullshit! How many days have Arthur spent out there slaving away to bring down animals and sling ‘em back to camp? You ain’t feedin’ no one but yourself! How many folks have we all robbed and stolen from, while you just go out peddling a few bucks here and there. You’re a sad, lyin’, miserable sack of shit who has no place here! No get out of my sight before I put a bullet in your skull!”

Strauss, his eyes wide and his lizardish lips parted, starts heading away from you quickly, his tail between his legs. As he scurries off, you scream at him one last time.

“And if you ever tell my man to get your damn money back, I’ll throttle ya, is that clear?”

He doesn't respond but you know he heard you. After letting out a long sigh, you turn back to Arthur, who’s looking at you surprised.

“What?” you say.

He swallows. “Damn, darlin’, that was-”

“Long overdue?” you say.

“No, well yes, but I was gonna say that was one of the sexiest things I ever seen.”

You blush and smile at him.

“You got anymore of that energy left in ya?” he says, his eyes sliding down your body.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I was thinkin’ you better close these flaps and show me what else you got.”

With a giggle, you do as he says. Then you take him so hard Arthur will never forget this afternoon. In fact, he will hold onto it for many years and on the days when he needs you physically but you aren’t around, he’ll use it to help relieve the pressure while being alone.

As the two of you go at it, he wishes again to ask you to marry him, but you’ve got him groaning and panting so hard he can barely work out two words. One thing is clear to him though: not marrying you will be the dumbest thing he could possibly do.

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #awkward asks

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movedkagen · 4 years ago

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OKAY WHERE. DO I EVEN START W YOU HOWL. literally adore you..... one of my closest friends @ this point n i really do think it's you + cal n cloud that have made this last year so great..... u kno i love your writing n your art n you have such an incredible skill in analyzing ur charas and making them so much more than whats given in canon.... you give so much to people and u do it so freely i LITERALLY CANT? TELL U HOW NICE IT IS TO HAVE U BACK ON TUMBLR CUZ HONESTLY ITS JUST NOT THE SAME HERE W/O U.... THERE'S SO MUCH MORE LIGHT N LOVE ON THE DASH N SO MUCH MORE FUN N U REALLY JUST MAKE IT SUCH A BETTER TIME HERE FOR EVERYONE.... i rlly do hope we get 2 stay friends for a long ass time bc yall mean so much 2 me. all the late nights on call and playin games and gettin on each other's nerves...... would lay down my life for u if ur swingin i am 2 KISSES U A MILLION TIMES

FINALLY FINALLY I CAN ANSWER THIS .... INAD ILU SO MUCH..........WHEN I RECEIVED THIS ASK MY HEART GREW THREE SIZES !!!! THIS MADE MY DAY N I LOVE U I’M GLAD I MET U I CANT IMAGINE NOT HEARIN U BURP IN MY EAR REGULARLY <3

#aneitei #* HOWL » saved.

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averylainey · 6 years ago

Text

Our Darling, Clementine

*Spoilers!*

Louis teaches AJ how to play a special song on the piano to cheer Clementine up, and they add their own twist to it. (AJ loving Clem so much n wanting to make her happy + dad Louis cause Louis and AJ’s relationship is my reason for living.)

“The words are kinda sad… I don’t know if I wanna sing that one to her.”

“Well, we could always change the words,” The older boy suggested.

“I don’t know… Sounds hard. I’ve never made a song before.”

“Well, luckily you just so happen to be sitting next to the greatest songwriter in the world.”

~ AO3 ~ FF ~

AJ squinted his eyes open when the sunlight flooding into the bedroom shined over his face. He propped himself up on an elbow and yawned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his fist. The little boy fixed his eyes on the older girl in the opposite bunk.

Clementine was still asleep, which he was actually grateful for. She had been in so much pain the past couple days. Ever since she woke up from the impromptu amputation, he could see it on her face. AJ saw how she winced every time she made the slightest movement and the grief on her face when she looked at what remained of her left leg. Despite her efforts to hide it - to be strong for him- he knew. He wanted to tell her to stop, to stop trying to be tough. He wanted her to know that it was okay for her to be hurting. He wanted to be strong for both of them, so that she didn’t have to be.

But above all, he wanted her to feel better. He wanted her to smile- a real smile, not one of those fake, consolation prizes she’d been giving him lately. No. He needed her to smile. AJ hopped off his bed, heart filled with a newfound, burning determination. He will make her feel better.

He studied the room, wracking his brain for ideas. His eyes caught the desk; he could draw her a picture. No. It wasn’t enough. He drew pictures all the time, and this had to be special; it had to be… Spectacular - the new word he learned from Louis yesterday. AJ gasped and perked up as the memory gave him an idea. He could ask Louis what he should do for Clem. The older boy never failed to come up with spectacular ideas. AJ giggled, proud of the expansion of his vocabulary.

He ran up to the window and stood on his toes to peer out at the schoolyard. He grinned when he caught sight of Louis. The teen was sitting at one of the picnic tables with Violet, seemingly playing some card game with her, and judging by the exasperated expression on the blonde’s face, she wasn’t happy with how it was going.

AJ glanced at Clementine and smiled at her. “Just wait, Clem. I’m gonna make this the best day ever.”

“Louis!” AJ shouted to the older boy as soon as he exited the dorm building. Louis looked up from his hand, smiled and gave him a little wave, which the younger returned.

“Hey, little man. Wanna play?” He shouted across the field as he held up the deck of cards.

The little boy beamed and dashed over to the table.

“Hey, Violet,” AJ greeted the girl beside Louis and peered at the cards strewn between the teens. “What are you guys playing?”

“Bullshit: The Game, apparently,” The girl grumbled, throwing her hand down and glaring at Louis.

“Hey, just cause you’re bad, doesn’t mean my game is,” Louis feigned offense.

“Your game’s not bad, it’s fucking terrible.”

“We can play Go Fish instead, then.” The boy picked her cards off the table and shuffled them back into the deck.

“Go Fish? How creative.”

“Hey, don’t be knocking Go Fish. It’s a Goddamn classic.”

“What’s Go Fish?” AJ interrupted the banter. He hopped onto the bench beside Louis and smiled up at him. “I wanna play.”

“Sure you can handle it? It’s the hardest game known to man. It gets intense, ‘specially when you’re playin’ with this sore-loser,” The older boy motioned to the girl across from them with a smirk.

“More like hardest game known to two-year-olds,” Violet snorted.

“I can,” The youngest affirmed with a single, serious nod.

“Confident. I like it.” The older boy gave him a lopsided grin, and the smile returned to AJ’s face at the praise.

“Alright, here’s what you gotta do,” Louis dealt out the cards - seven to each player. “Look at the cards you got, but don’t let us see. You have to make pairs of the same number by asking us if we have one of the numbers in your hand. If we don’t have it, we say ‘Go Fish’, and you draw a card. Person with the most pairs at the end wins. If you already have a pair now, you can just put it down.”

On cue, Violet boasted a pair of fives to start off the game and looked at the older boy smugly.

“I don’t have any.” AJ frowned at his hand.

“That’s ok. Watch, I’ll go first.” Louis turned his gaze to the blonde. “Do you have any nines?”

“Nope,” She shook her head.

“No, Vi, you have to say Go Fish,” Louis protested.

“Why?”

“It’s the rules. Game isn’t called ‘Nope’; it’s called ‘Go Fish’. You wanna be disqualified?”

“You’re ridiculous.” She rolled her eyes but complied, “Go Fish.”

“Thank you.” He drew a card and winked at AJ, who giggled. “You try.”

“Ok…” He glanced at his cards then up to Violet. “Do you have any twos?”

Much to AJ’s excitement, she handed over a two, which he proudly stacked with his on the table.

The older boy couldn’t help but beam at his elation. “Nice one, AJ! Show her who’s boss!”

Violet narrowed her eyes at Louis. “You guys aren’t just gonna keep asking me, right?”

“Oh, shit, good idea, Vi.” The teen turned to AJ and whispered loudly, “Let’s gang up on her, man.”

“Ok!” AJ laughed.

“Nope. Not doing it.” The girl threw her cards onto the table.

“Hey, I was just kidding,” He said before facing AJ and sneakily mouthing, ‘I wasn’t’.

“Think I’ve exceeded my Louis’-card-games quota for the week.”

“Killjoy,” He teased as he gathered up her abandoned cards.

“Fuck off.”

With the enthusiasm dying down, AJ remembered why he’d come out there in the first place. He handed Louis his stack of cards to add to the deck.

“Louis, can you help me?” He peered up at the teen with an eyebrow raised.

“Maybe,” The older shrugged, still focused on shuffling the cards. “What’cha need?”

“Well, Clem’s been sad,” AJ told him, making Louis’ smile give way to a pained expression.

“Yeah. I… I’ve noticed.”

“And I wanna make it better,” The little boy said and sat up straight.

“Me too, buddy.”

“I wanna do something special for her, but I don’t know what, and you’re really good at making her smile, so I need you to help me decide.”

“Why don’t you draw her a picture? She loves those, right?” Violet suggested.

“She does, but I already thought of that, and I do it all the time, so it’s not enough. I need something... spectacular.”As he spoke the last word, the boy put his hands up with fingers flared out and made a rainbow motion with his arms.

Louis laughed out loud while Violet rolled her eyes.

The blonde scoffed and shook her head with a smirk. “Oh my God, you spend way too much time around this idiot.”

“Hey! I’m being serious,” AJ asserted and shook his head. “Don’t laugh.”

“Oh, I- uh- I’m sorry.” Violet looked down and rubbed the back of her neck. The trio fell into an awkward silence.

AJ stared at Louis, who was deep in thought.

“You wanna play her a song?” He suddenly blurted out.

“Wha- how? Like on that music machine?” The boy was confused; that wasn’t very special. They’d been playing her music for days. Maybe Louis didn’t really know anything...

“No, on the piano.”

“But I don’t know how.”

“I’ll show you. It’s not that hard.”

AJ absolutely lit up with glee and started bouncing up and down in his seat. “Really?”

“Yeah, just lemme know whenever you wanna start. I’ll-”

“Now! Right now!” The boy jumped off the bench, nearly losing his footing and flopping to the ground.

Louis chuckled. “Go ahead.” He nodded toward the direction of the music room.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

AJ was intimidated to say the least as he gawked at the giant instrument in front of him. There had to be at least a hundred buttons, maybe two hundred. He couldn’t be sure. He was starting to not believe Louis saying it wasn’t that hard to play.

The boy sat on the bench, hesitantly lifted his hand and hovered it over one of the keys. He pushed it down, flinching slightly at the loud note that reverberated throughout the room. He pushed another, then another, then three at once. AJ giggled and continued increasing the number of keys pushed down until he ran out of fingers. His fear of the piano quickly vanished as he became determined to press every single one.

AJ stood up and spread his arms as wide as he could; then, he lowered his body down onto the piano. The instrument screamed a thousand notes, effectively mimicking the sound of a quickly approaching train. The little boy was overcome with laughter as the roaring echoed off the walls.

“Ah, the obligatory pressing of all the keys at the same time.”

The sudden voice from his right startled AJ off of the piano. He sat back in the bench and glanced sheepishly at Louis, who was leaning against the door-frame with his arms crossed.

“Sorry…”

“You’re good.” Louis entered and sat beside him, flashing him a goofy grin. “I do that at least once a day.”

AJ laughed. “Really?”

He smirked, spreading his arms and lowering himself onto the piano just as AJ had. The piano hollered even louder than before due to the older boy’s longer arms reaching more of the keys. They both lost it laughing.

AJ wiped his eyes while he tried to catch his breath. Louis sat back down and stretched his fingers across the keys to form a real chord. The sweet sound filled the room- a stark contrast from the prior chaos. He continued playing a random string of notes until AJ had sufficiently calmed down.

Louis slouched back and smiled at the younger boy.

“So, any song in particular you wanna learn?”

AJ thought for a minute. He didn’t know many songs- or any really. Well, he knew the one Disco Broccoli song Clementine taught him, but it was kinda dumb; he wanted a pretty song to sing for her. He searched his head until he came upon a certain memory - when Louis met her. He didn’t know the name of the song Louis sang or many of the words, but he remembered the smile on her face when he sang it to her - the kind of smile he desperately wanted to see her wear again.

“What about the Clementine song - the one you sang before. Remember? She said she loved it.”

“How could I forget?” He said, more to himself than to AJ.

“Can you play that one?”

Louis nodded before placing his hands back on the piano. “You got it.”

“Oh, my darling, Oh, my darling, Oh, my darling, Clementine You are lost and gone forever Dreadful sorry, Clementine.”

Lost and gone forever? AJ didn’t like the sound of that. He wasn’t so sure he liked that song very much anymore… Clementine wasn’t gone, and he didn’t ever want her to be. He didn’t want to make her more sad, and he felt like the content of the song would do just that. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the ground.

“Light she was and like a fairy And her shoes were number nine Herring boxes without topses Sandals were for Clementine.”

AJ made a face. Now that part just doesn’t make any sense…

Louis repeated the chorus again, bringing the frown back to AJ’s face. Gone forever. He hated that line. That line represented his worst nightmare. It was like whoever wrote the song wanted to hurt him, and that made him mad.

Louis stopped playing when he noticed the distressed look on his face.

“Damn. My singing really that bad?”

AJ shook his head, still staring at his feet. “No. It’s just… I don’t…” He looked up at Louis with knitted brows. “I don’t like that song anymore.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“The words are kinda sad… I don’t know if I wanna sing that one to her. I don’t wanna make her sadder.”

“Well, we could always change the words,” The older boy suggested.

AJ raised a brow at the idea. He liked the tune of the song; it was pretty, and Clementine seemed to think it was too. It was only a few words that irked him; he didn’t have to reject the whole song. He liked the idea of changing it- of making it about his Clementine. His Clementine wouldn’t be ‘lost and gone forever’; she’s tough and the absolute greatest. However, the task of changing the song seemed daunting.

“I don’t know… Sounds hard. I’ve never made a song before.”

“Well, luckily you just so happen to be sitting next to the greatest songwriter in the world.” He lifted his chin and grabbed the sides of his jacket.

AJ grinned. “You really think we can?”

“Definitely. You wanted it to be special, so what’s more special than writing her her own song?”

Louis stood up and headed for one of the bookshelves in the room. He picked a random book off the shelf, opened it, and ripped out a page with minimal text on it. He picked one of the many pens off the floor and scribbled on the paper to test it.

“Alright, we’re in business.” Louis returned to his spot on the bench. “We’ll do the words first; then, I’ll show you how to play it, and we’ll practice.”

AJ nodded, satisfied with the plan.

Louis pressed the pen to the page and began to write out the original song to reference its rhythm.

After half an hour, the song still wasn’t finished, and AJ was getting antsy. He knew it was gonna be hard… He wasn’t good enough with words to really help Louis write the song, so he just told the older boy what he wanted it to say: how awesome and strong Clementine is, how she’s protected him and made him ‘super-duper smart’, and how she was still awesome - even with one foot. After giving Louis his lengthy list of requirements, he had taken to pacing around the room and trying to find interest in the objects he found tossed about. His eye caught the side of the piano, where he noticed something carved on it.

“You… su-suck at play-ing?” He turned to Louis. “Who wrote that?”

The teen looked up from the paper. “I don’t know; didn’t see it happen. It’s been there forever, though.”

“Well, it’s mean. I don’t think you suck. You’re good at it; I wanna be as good as you.”

Louis smiled in response before turning his focus back down to the page.

The boy returned to the piano and looked over Louis’ shoulder at the in-progress song. He couldn’t make sense of the writing; it was all over the place with many lines crossed out, and Louis’ handwriting was very curly and impossible for the young boy to read.

AJ groaned. “Is it done yet?”

“Almost. Just a couple more lines.”

AJ plopped onto the bench with a huff. He’d been saying that for the past ten minutes.

He went back to studying the piano, and noticed another carving. This one was more ambiguous; he wasn’t sure what it could mean. C + L? He hoped it wasn’t another malicious one; he didn’t like that someone would be mean to Louis.

“What’s this one mean?” He tapped Louis and pointed to the carving.

The teen followed AJ’s finger until his gaze landed on the markings. He stared smiling at it for a second before turning to AJ.

“Stands for me and Clem. It’s our names in a heart; we did it the night the raiders came.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Just something people do when they love each other.”

AJ nodded. “So you love Clem?”

“I do.”

“I do too.” AJ was silent for a moment. “Why didn’t she ever make one of those with me?”

Louis chuckled. “It’s different.”

“Oh… Why?”

“Different kinda love, little dude.”

AJ scrunched his face in confusion. He didn’t know there were different types of love.

The older boy noticed his puzzled expression and continued, “Y’know… like a ‘like-like’ love?”

“Ohh.” The little boy raised an eyebrow at him. “...Is that why you do that weird thing with your mouths?”

Louis turned red and laughed awkwardly. “Uh, yeah… It’s called kissing, and it’s not weird.”

“Weird to me.”

“Fair enough.” He shook his head and breathed out another laugh. “Well, think I know what the last line should be now.”

AJ lit up. “Does that mean it’s done?”

“Sure is.” Louis jotted the final line down and handed the page to the younger boy. “What do you think?”

He stared blankly at the curvy letters on the paper. “...I can’t read it… But it’s great! I think she’ll love it!”

Louis snorted and took the song back. “Glad you believe in me, but you gotta know the words if you’re gonna sing it to her.”

“Oh, right… Can you read it to me?”

Louis nodded and pointed at the first group of lines. “This verse is gonna be your solo.”

“Solo?”

“Yeah, you’re gonna sing it by yourself.” The teen proceeded to read the verse to him.

AJ loved it; it was exactly what he wanted. Louis even put the words ‘super-duper smart’ into the song like he asked for. AJ was convinced; the older boy really was the greatest songwriter in the world. However, the thought of singing without Louis to back him up was a bit intimidating. What if he messed up? What if his voice was bad? He shared these concerns with the teen, who immediately dismissed them. Louis said that it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if it was ‘as good as Broadway’ - whatever that meant; Clementine would love it anyway because it would be coming from him. AJ knew this was probably true, but he was still a little nervous.

Louis continued reading the song to AJ one verse at at time. He pointed out that the third verse was gonna be his solo, which relieved the little boy. He wouldn’t be the only one singing some of the lines alone. Louis continued reciting the song, and AJ lit up at every line. The song was everything he could have hoped for.

“Well? What’cha think?” Louis finished and looked to the younger boy expectantly.

“It’s awesome! It’s… It’s spectacular!” AJ threw his arms up, earning a laugh from the boy beside him. “I can’t wait to show her!”

“Just need to add the piano; then, we can go get her. It’s a pretty easy song, so shouldn’t take too long for you to learn it.”

AJ looked at the piano then back at Louis. “There’s so many buttons…”

“Yeah, but you only need these ones.” Louis dragged his finger across seven of the keys in the middle of the piano, playing a simple scale. “I’ll play the lower part.”

“There’s two parts?”

“Yup. ‘Spose to play the high part with one hand and the low with the other, but you can just focus on one since it’s your first time. Your part sounds just like the song when you’re singing it.”

AJ tapped a couple of the keys he’d be using before smiling up at the teen. “Ok. Which one first?”

Louis grabbed AJ’s hand and guided it into position. “First three notes are G. That’s this one.” The teen pointed to a key and prompted AJ to push it three times; he complied then looked to the other for further direction.

The teen continued showing AJ the notes for the next line and telling him their names. AJ followed the boy’s instruction and slowly attempted the notes corresponding to the first couple lines of the song. He fumbled a bit during his first few tries, but with Louis’ encouragement, he eventually got it perfect. He grinned when he noticed the familiar melody begin to take shape.

“Woah.” AJ smiled up at his teacher. “That’s so cool.”

Louis beamed. He was beyond elated that he finally had someone to share his love of the instrument with. Everyone else acted like it was a waste of time. He couldn’t stop grinning at the little boy as they continued playing the verse piece by piece. AJ’s enthusiasm was refreshing; every time he’d successfully play a line, he’d bounce up and down or do a little dance. They practiced each line individually until the little boy was able to play them all together. When AJ finally played the verse through without a single error, the most delighted grin overtook his features.

“Nice!” Louis held his hand up for a high-five which AJ happily gave. “You don’t even need me; you’re a natural.”

AJ giggled. He was incredibly proud of himself; he couldn’t wait to see Clementine’s reaction.

“And guess what?”

“What?”

“Rest of the song is just that for all the verses. That means you just went and learned yourself an entire song.” This time, the teen put both of his hands up for a double high-five.

AJ slapped his small hands against the older boy’s. “Really?”

Louis nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re the next Mozart.”

“Huh?”

“...Never mind,” He chuckled. “Let’s put this thing together so we can go give our girl a show.”

“Yeah!”

The boys spent the next hour mashing their rewritten lyrics and piano melody together. They practiced over and over, determined to get it absolutely flawless. Clementine didn’t deserve anything less.

“Clem! Clem!” AJ burst into their bedroom, panting. He dashed over to her bedside and stood bouncing on the balls of his feet beside her.

“Woah, what’s up, kiddo?” Clementine propped herself up on an elbow.

“You-you gotta come! We have a surprise for you! A really really big surprise! You’re gonna love it!”

“Slow down, AJ. We?”

AJ glanced behind him and frowned when he didn’t see Louis standing there. He ran back for the door and peered out into the hallway, looking left and right. When Louis finally turned the corner, AJ waved him over.

“Louis! Hurry up!”

The older boy’s laughter echoed down the hall. “I’m goin’.” He popped into the doorway and grinned at the girl inside. She gave a small smile in return.

“So where’s this big surprise?”

“We have to take you to it.”

Her eyebrows raised then furrowed as she frowned. “I… I can’t get up, AJ.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Louis butt in. “Which method of transportation would you prefer: piggy back or bridal style?” He knelt down beside her bed.

Clementine rolled her eyes and pretended to ponder her options for a minute. It probably wasn’t the greatest idea to leave her bed yet as she still had a lot of healing to do. However, she was going crazy staring at the same ceiling, the same walls, the same view from the window for all hours of the day. The idea of getting out- of going anywhere else - was too appealing.

“Hmm, how ‘bout you get on all fours, and I’ll sit on your back like a horse?”

He shrugged and breathed out a little laugh. “Might break my back, but… Whatever you want. It’d be a noble sacrifice.”

“Oh, can’t have that. Guess I’ll settle for bridal.”

“Good choice.” He winked, and she snorted.

Louis slid an arm under her knees and scooped her off of her bed. Clementine winced and let out a little squeak of pain when her injured leg rubbed against the mattress.

“Sorry.” Louis hugged her tighter, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, mustering up a pained smile.

AJ instructed her to close her eyes which she hesitantly did when the boys insisted that it was essential to the surprise that she not know where they’re going. She tightened her grip on Louis’ shoulders when he started walking, and tried to pay attention to his movements in an attempt to gauge where they were headed. Left out the room, then right a few feet down. Were they going outside?

Her thoughts were confirmed when she heard the creak of a door and saw the blackness of her vision flash red as the sun hit her face. Louis made his way out the door, careful not to knock her against anything. A light breeze tickled her skin, and she smiled, thankful to be outside again after being cooped up in her room for days. The fresh air filling her lungs and the warmth radiating off the boy holding her lulled her into a sense of peace. She lay her head against his shoulder and relished in the feeling.

“Louis!”

A furious voice caused the girl’s breath to hitch, and she shot her eyes open.

“What the Hell do you think you’re doin’?” Louis faced the direction of the cry and found Ruby glaring at him. “She needs to be in bed.”

“No, Ruby! We’re doing something really important!” AJ protested.

“I don’t care. She needs to rest and keep it elevated. Why would you ever think that you could-”

“It’s ok.” Clementine interrupted. “I’m fine. I needed out of that room, anyway.” She smiled softly. “It’s nice out.”

“But your-”

“It’s just gonna be for a second!” The little boy pleaded. He couldn’t let the plan fail when they were already this far along. He knew Ruby was just trying to look out for her, but she didn’t understand how important this was. “Please.” AJ widened his eyes and pouted up at her. Louis and even Clementine mirrored the boy’s pleading expression.

The redhead groaned and clutched her temple. “Fine. Five minutes…” She held up a hand to represent the number. “And be careful.”

AJ grinned gratefully and nodded. “Clem, close your eyes back!”

She obeyed and rested her head back on Louis’ shoulder as he continued walking. The crunch of grass underneath his feet soon gave way to the click of his boots on concrete. Another door opened, and she was inside again, and soon, she was being lowered down into a chair.

“Don’t open ‘em yet,” Louis told her.

She heard him walk away a short distance then a soft creak as he sat down. She raised an eyebrow when her ears caught the hushed giggles of the boys.

“Shh!”

Clementine let her eyes flutter open when she heard the first note of a song on the piano; they’d brought her to the music room. She looked to the piano to see Louis and AJ sitting on the bench together, both with a hand on a part of the instrument. AJ’s voice filled the room:

“When I was scared, you would be there And you’d teach me all the time Now I’m super-duper sma-art All cause of you, Clementine.”

Of course, Clementine recognized the melody instantly, but the words were unfamiliar- different. Louis joined in, and the boys sang the second verse together:

“Oh, our darling, Oh, our darling, Oh, our darling, Clementine Listen closely, while we tell thee The sweet tales of Clementine.”

Louis looked straight into her eyes with the goofiest grin as he sang the third verse solo:

“When you came here, we were-en’t sure But you got here just in time Helped us wreck those stupid raiders Like a badass, Clementine”

They sang the rest of their song together:

“Oh, our darling, Oh, our darling, Oh our darling, Clementine Thought we lost you but you’re still here You’re the strongest, Clementine

“We know you’re sad, cause of your leg But please trust us; you’ll be fine You will always be the coolest You’re still awesome, Clementine

“Oh, our darling, Oh, our darling Oh, our darling, Clementine You’re the bravest; you’ll get through this And we’ll help you, Clementine

“You’re so lovely, such a beauty With sweet golden eyes that shine And the smile of an angel Show it to us, Clementine.

“Oh, our darling, Oh, our darling, Oh our darling, Clementine You’re the greatest; like no other, How we love you, Clementine.”

The boys both took their hands off the piano and looked to the girl in the chair beside them. Her hand was over her mouth, her eyes glossy. She blinked a few times and a tear escaped, cascading down her cheek. AJ was worried for a second. Why was she crying? Clem never cried. Did she not like it? Did he mess up? The little boy looked up at Louis with a panicked expression. However, the teen didn’t look worried. He was grinning from ear to ear.

AJ returned his gaze to the girl. “Clem?”

Clementine removed her hand from her lips, revealing the biggest, realest, smile AJ had ever seen her wear. And in that instant, all his worry was washed away. She was happy. She was really happy.

She choked out a laugh and wiped her eyes. “You- you dorks.” She sighed and extended her arms to the boys. AJ hopped off the bench and ran into her arms; he gripped her as tightly as his little arms could. He began to feel a stinging at his eyes as they threatened to burst with tears as well. Seeing her so happy… It was the best thing ever.

Clementine pulled back a bit and “How did you… When did you do this?” She choked.

“This morning. Louis taught me how. He helped me write the song so it’s about you. We… We wanted to make you happy.”

The girl looked to the older boy, who smiled lovingly at her. He slid off the bench and joined them at the chair, kneeling down and putting an arm around Clementine.

Her breath hitched, and she cleared her throat. “Well, you did it. Y-You did.” She sniffled and wiped at another stray tear. “You’re such a sweetie.”

“And you are too.” She turned her gaze to Louis, pulled him into the hug, and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

Louis returned her kiss, and AJ latched onto her and nuzzled his face into her neck. “We love you, Clem,” He mumbled against her.

Clementine sniffled and held onto her boys tighter. “I love you guys too.”

#Im?? So proud of this one?#is this how people #with actual healthy self-esteems feel??#twdg #twdg spoilers #twdg fanfiction #fanfiction #twdg fanfic #twdg AJ #twdg louis #clouis #twdg clouis #my writing

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artisticvicu · 5 years ago

Text

Conquer your fear! - Part 1

"Verena, get back here!"

A string of giggles escaped the small tiefling whose tail was nearly as long as they were tall. The tiefling dashed this way and that through the caravan, gigging every time the woman called out for them.

"Verena!"

The small body collided with another, causing the other to stumble as the tiefling fell backwards to land on their butt. A shout went up as the person the child had ran into yanked the tiefling back up and out of the way of the cart.

"Watch where yer playin', ya damn brat!" the driver barked.

The small body cowered in the protective embrace of a body not much bigger.

"Soren? What'chya got there?"

"Don' know, da'," the body holding the tiefling offered. "Ne just ran into me."

"Verena! There you are!"

The little tiefling flinched as rough hands pulled nem away from the other and a started cry escaped the little form. "Shush, Verena," came from the parent, chastising. "I'm so sorry Stoick. Is Soren alright?"

"I'm fine." The little tiefling looked over, meeting the curious gaze of a human child that was barely older than the tiefling child. A small voice in the little tiefling's mind spoke of how the human's eye color was wrong somehow. The human child didn't seem to notice or didn't care as it offered a hand like all the grownups do to strangers. "I'm Soren."

"Go on, Verena. Shake neir hand like a good boy."

The tiefling's lavender tail came around, a splotch of pale coloring like a paint splatter discoloring the tip. Said tip pressed into the offered palm and despite the chastising from the adults, Verena thought it was worth it to see the laughter that broke out across Soren's too grown up face.

"We'll be heading east at Alnrich."

Verena's tail slowly fell from its perked posture even as he felt Soren's body go tense under him. They were trying to sneak through the caravan as young children do playing whatever game they had made but they had heard Soren's dad and Verena's parents' voices drifting towards them in the night and had gotten curious. Soren had crouched at the back wheel of one of the wagons while Verena clung to his back still smaller than the other.

Verena buried his face into Soren's hair. It smelled of smoke and earth and held a comfort that made his heart ache at losing. His tail followed his emotions and wrapped securely around Soren's waist. The other rubbed comforting circles into the tail against neir stomach but didn't move.

"So soon?" Verena's mother asked.

There was a scoff from his father. "Let them leave if they want, Ilma. It is not our place to convince them to stay."

A rumble of a chuckle came from Soren's dad. "Soren will most likely fight me. We've stayed too long and ne's grown attached to Verena and the others."

"Is that such a bad thing?" Verena's mother asked.

"Whether it is or isn't doesn't change the fact that we have stayed too long. We will part ways at Alnrich."

"May the tides bring us back together."

Verena's mother added at the end of his father's words, "And may the winds bring you peace."

"Thank you, both of you."

"Hang on tight, Ren."

Verena jolted as Soren's sudden voice but did as coaxed. Soren dashed away from their parentals and deeper into the trees. They didn't go very far - they were still within the light of the main campfire - but it was far enough that if they didn't talk overly loud, they'd have privacy. Soren pulled at Verena's tail and hand, a silent sign to get down and in front of nem.

"I don't want you to go," Verena choked out, doing his best to keep his voice down. He pressed his face into Soren's chest and felt himself relaxing at the warmth he always found there.

Soren's arms, just as warm, wrapped around him. "I don't want to go either but Dad says its important to keep moving until home finds us."

Verena pulled his face away enough to look up at Soren, making his yellow eyes as big and watery as possible. "But isn't this home?"

Soren smiled. It was soft and left Verena thinking it was too grown up to be on Soren's face. "I think Dad wants a house that doesn't move, with fields and animals to tend. I don't think he ever wanted to be part of a traveling caravan."

Verena's arms tightened around Soren; his tail had hooked around Soren's left ankle. "What about you? Where do you wanna be?"

Soren shrugged. "With Dad. He's all I got left."

Something bitter and hot shot through him. "But what about me? I'm your family too."

That grown up face Soren had gotten so good at wearing fell away as hot tears - they hurt when they touched Verena's cooled skin but it was nothing the tiefling couldn't stand - streaked down the other's face. "But I can't leave my Dad. Verena-"

Something broke inside the little tiefling as whatever was supposed to follow his name was cut off by a vicious sob. Verena pulled at Soren and wrapped himself as best he could around the bigger kid. Soren held on, heat rolling off the other in a way that terrified Verena without him understanding why.

Stoick was the one that found them like that. The man's bushy face softened at Verena's pleading gaze and welcomed the gentle touch to his head as Stoick's other hand went to Soren's back. "Come on, kiddo. It's bedtime."

"Don' wanna go," Soren spat out into the mingling of their bodies.

"I know. But it won't be forever. Just a for now. Ok? You'll see Verena again."

Something like ice shot through Verena. He knew that wording. He glared at Soren's dad with all his might even as Soren pulled away enough to look up at neir dad. "Promise?"

Stoick smiled. Verena's hold on Soren tightened. "Promise. Come on, kiddo."

Every fiber of Verena's being was calling Stoick a liar as he let Soren slip from his grasp.

"Ren?"

Yellow eyes snapped away from those he was sitting with to lock onto a pair of eyes on a human face that weren't quite right.

"Do I know you?" he found himself asking even as the strings bit into his fingers; he was clenching the neck of his lute like it was a lifeline. His vision blurred only to clear when he blinked.

Why was he crying?

"Ah, sorry," the human with the off eyes offered. "You looked like an old friend of mine I haven't seen in years."

"Someone named Ren?"

The words were past his lips before he could stop them. There was something deep within him that was begging this human to say no, to say-

"His full name is Verena, but last I had seen him we were nothing but tots."

He choked on a sob, curling in on himself as his free hand snapped to his mouth. His tail with its pale tip came up and around, like it could add another layer of protection from whatever was pulling at him, drowning him in grief.

He heard his companions shout his name, knew this stranger knew his name now, but he couldn't face nem, couldn't even look at nem.

Someone tried to approach him.

He stumbled out of his chair, the lute slamming into his gut painfully. It didn't stop him from turning and fleeing the inn.

He didn't expect to find a temple. It looked lively despite the state the temple itself was in. It looked old, probably more ancient than anything else he had ever seen, but where he would normally be drawn in by the possibility of learning its history, he turned away at the thought of interacting with anyone. Instead, he slowly made his way over to the pond while staying within the trees.

He shouldn't be surprised he had been followed but neither footfall sounded familiar.

Turned out one of the footfall belonged to the human with the off eyes. Behind nem was one of the human's companions - the one with the interesting staff - but the companion didn't approach like the human did.

"Can I join you?"

He turned away, tail wrapping around him on the ground as he did so.

For a moment, there was silence. He relished in it for as long as it lasted and nearly drifted off before he felt warmth at his back. There wasn't any pressure of a human hand on his back but he knew there was one there, a few inches above his thin shirt. Why had he taken his gear off again?

"Your hair's longer than I remember." A breath. "But, then, that's to be expected. It has been almost twenty five years."

He couldn't help the snort that escaped him. "Then how do you know I'm you're friend. I'm probably too young to even have been alive twenty five years ago."

"Because I remember the pattern of your tail; the paint splatter of pale that colored the tip and stretched up the length of your tail." His tail tightened around him. "Because I remember your laugh even if its deepened from age, I remember how strikingly pale you looked standing next to your parents with lavender skin so soft it seemed almost incomplete with the pale patches." That hand that had been hovering high between his shoulder blades pressed into the back of his neck. "And I remember how small you had been when you first ran into me from among the wagons."

The hand was unnaturally warm but it pulled at things he couldn't remember. He leaned into the touch as a different sob pulled at him, bitter and sad and tired. "But I can't even remember if I had parents, let alone my childhood." He offered this strange human - so warm and familiar and strange - a tight smile. "How am I supposed to remember who you even are if I don't know who I am?"

The human smiled gently at him. "Then we'll start anew." The hand left the back of his neck and he swallowed down the urge to whimper. The human offered a hand to shake. "I'm Soren."

"I'm Soren."

He looked over, meeting the curious gaze of a human child that was barely older than he was. A small voice in his mind spoke of how the human's eye color was wrong somehow. The human child didn't seem to notice or didn't care with a hand offered like all the grownups do to strangers.

"Go on, Verena," a voice he couldn't remember but ached from hearing coaxed. "Shake neir hand like a good boy."

He didn't want to. He didn't trust any of the others of the caravan - the other kids skittered away any time he had wandered too close - so he went with the better option. He brought his tail around, a splotch of pale coloring like a paint splatter discoloring the tip. Said tip pressed into the offered palm and despite the chastising he knew was coming, Verena thought it was worth it to see the laughter that broke out across Soren's too grown up face.

He sucked in a breath, fumbling away from the strange human even as he realized his tail had moved on its own accord. The pale tip of his tail was stark against the strange human's palm and despite the joy he saw flicker across the strange human's face, he yanked his tail free. He wondered if the glimpse of disappointment was his own reflected back at him as Soren pulled on a mask of patience, hand still extended.

He swallowed thickly and reached out, giving a firm handshake even as he trembled. "Verena."

"How long have you been playing?"

Verena looked up as Soren settled beside him. Their two parties had been traveling together for over two weeks now and this was the first time Soren had sought Verena out when he was alone. Verena shrugged. "Long enough to have it ingrained into every fiber of my being," he offered easily enough. "Still don't remember much of my history despite..."

The last two weeks - the reasons why the two parties were now tangled and how memories weren't always the most pleasant coming back - went unsaid.

Soren hummed, as if ne understood.

They sat at the edge of the camp together, backs to the fire, and Verena suddenly had an inkling of why Soren was there. "I thought Soala was joining me for first watch."

Soren shrugged. "Apparently Aelfwyne needed her for something so I got volunteered."

He found himself raising an eyebrow at the other. "Why didn't you say no?"

Another shrug. "Soala was taking third watch for me in turn so I didn't think much of it till after the fact."

"Ah."

Silence stretched between them broken only by Verena's unconscious plucking of the lute strings.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when an unnaturally warm hand wrapped around the top of the base of his tail. He brought the lute up between them like it was a weapon he could use to beat Soren back but all he was met with was a surprised expression on the other's face. Regret quickly overtook the surprise and Soren pulled back, hand leaving Verena's tail. "Sorry."

Minutes passed before Verena finally relaxed enough to ask, "Why'd you do that?"

He gained Soren's gaze. Those off colored pupils regarded him for the brief moment before, "You looked like you needed some warmth."

"But my tail?"

Soren looked back to the group. "None of my companions have one so I hadn't really thought it would be any different than touching your shoulder, or arm." There was another shrug. "It was also bare skin. The rest of you is covered in fabric." Verena had taken to wearing his long sleeves but it was more out of keeping Soren's eyes off his markings than anything else. He gained a sigh from his silence. "Look," Soren explained, "I just did. There was no thought to it, no purpose other than wanting to give you some warmth. Figured best way was direct contact and I apologize for my lapse in judgment."

Soren stood up and started to move away.

It was then that Verena realized he really had been cold because now the chill of the night was touching him where Soren's warmth had been instead.

"What are you?"

His eyes snapped wide at the blurted words, a shiver of something coursing down his spin when Soren stops and half turns to look at him. But instead of the hate or rejection he expected to see, curiosity and patience greeted him from Soren's expression. He was growing to hate the latter. "A fire genasi. Why?"

"A what?"

"Fire genasi." Soren approached again but didn't sit. "Half human, half genie. Fire just happens to be the element trait I took on from the world."

"Would explain why you're always unnaturally warm."

Soren chuckled. He frowned, not liking the sound. It seemed sad. "I try and keep it as normal as I can manage but sometimes emotions or situations make it difficult."

His tail patted the spot Soren had been sitting at. "You were keeping the chill of the night away," he explained at Soren's raised eyebrow.

The fire genasi chuckled and sat back down. Conversation was slow to return but it did, making their watch short.

"Soren!"

His voice cracked on the name as fear threatened to choke him. Something brushed against his mind, something that wasn't physical, something he couldn't see nor touch, and as it brushed by it left him feeling like it took something with it but he couldn't think of what.

"Verena!"

It was soft, faint, and echoed off the walls like a whisper.

"Soren!" he screamed again, but he wasn't sure why he was screaming it. What even was it? Was it just a word or did it have meaning? Was it the customary response to 'verena'? What even was 'verena'?

He gave out a cry that turned into a sob as part of the ledge broke and tumbled into the darkness below. "Someone! Please!" he shouted, fear choking off anything else he may have shouted as he pressed into the wall as best he could.

"Verena!" His head snapped up and met a pair of eyes that looked off on a human face. Behind the stranger was a gaggle of people of varying races. "Shit," the human spat, the cuss echoed in different ways by those behind nem. "Verena, look at him." He found himself meeting the human's strange eyes. "Verena, I need you to trust me and step off the ledge."

"What?!" It was strangled and sharp and ricocheted off the walls oddly.

The human's face twisted into something painful. "Please, Ren," Ren, Ren, Ren, "you have to do this on your own. We can't come out to you."

"Why not?!" Another chuck of the ledge fell away and his leg slipped over the edge. "I can't!" it was high, reedy, followed quickly by a sob.

"We can't do this for you, Verena!" the human shouted back, voice strained as weapons were drawn. "Only you can conquer your fear! You're the only one that can get yourself out of its clutches."

"Soren!"

The strange human was thrown back by some force he didn't see. The human slammed into a few behind nem but those in the back were able to keep everyone more or less on their feet. One of the companions was already placing hands on the strange human's chest, magic dancing from those nimble fingers.

Something curled at the edge of his vision like it was about to strike and he knew with absolute certainty that if he let it spring forward, they would all die.

Whoever they were, they would all die.

He leapt at it as some noise ripped itself from his throat, magic turning all of his pale, swirling markings green.

It didn't matter who he was or who they were. He wasn't going to let them die.

[part 2]

#All the Creation #Creative and Prompt Writing #phrase prompt #100 word minimum #part 1

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stillthewordgirl · 5 years ago

Text

LOT/CaptainCanary fic: (I Don’t Believe in) Destiny (ch. 10 of 11)

Leonard Snart is back, finally pulled from the timestream where he's spent the last four years. But he wasn't alone, and the repercussions of that will echo through the Legends, the Time Bureau, and beyond.

And maybe, just maybe, they'll bring everything around full circle.

You can also read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

---

Ch. Ten: Every Game We Played

The Legends aren’t there. Not yet, anyway.

Ava stares out the viewscreen of the bureau mother ship as they come in over the wreckage of the Vanishing Point, blasted and silent and dark. There’s no sign of the Waverider. To her right, Druce is stone-faced, looking down at the wreckage of his past—and future?—home.

The blast of the exploding Oculus wellspring hadn’t wiped out everything—which doesn’t seem to make much sense; wasn’t it a freed supernova?—and there’s enough surface there to make the stand Druce wants. There’s even the ragged shell of a building around what Ava believes was the wellspring.

She bites her lip. Leonard Snart had caused this. But given all she’s learned…

“All hands brace for landing,” intones the pilot of the mother ship, a woman Ava had known by another name who now calls herself Liri Lee. Druce had gotten to so many of the bureau, so many people who believed they deserved more, knew better, because they’d been, for a while, custodians of time.

It’s true. Even with good intentions, power corrupts

Still, Ava rips her mind away from that. She braces, as directed, for landing. And she controls her expression as all those on the bridge…10, in addition to her and Druce…look to the Time Master for direction.

Druce scans them, then nods regally.

“I must go to the wellspring,” he announces. “There, to await the enemy. The others…keep them away.” His gaze hardens. “And you will be rewarded.”

The others don’t look at Ava, their supposed director, at all. They salute Druce, as does Ava, slightly belatedly.

Game time.

The bureau has already landed at the Vanishing Point.

Sara, looking out the viewscreen of the Waverider, takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She’s not naïve enough to believe that Ava isn’t there, given the presence of the bureau mother ship, but she’s trying not to think about it.

Leonard, to her right, glances at her. He doesn’t say anything, though, and Sara doesn’t pursue it.

Mick, to her left, mutters something under his breath. “Well,” he says, “Time Bastards are here. OK. Everyone clear on how we’re playin’ this?”

They’ve talked and talked about it, but it really all comes down to something too simple to even be called a plan.

John snorts. “The usual,” he says cynically, leaning against the holotable. “Chaos. While handsome there,” he nods to Leonard, “strolls through it all and goes for the wanker who started this.”

Sara rolls her eyes, forebears to mention that he really doesn’t have to be here—heaven knows John’s prone to wandering off on other business—and admits that he has a point.

“Yeah,” she acknowledges. “That’s essentially it. Gideon, would you pull up the info on the Time Bureau agents we know are in on this?”

Names and faces flash on the screen. Sara’s seen all the data before, but she studies it intently again, considering abilities and matching them with the teammates around her.

One, whom Mick had known as Walker Gabriel, is a bull of a man, and Sara knows that—should he become a Time Master—he’ll be an enforcer and hunter not unlike Mick had been, just much higher up. She already knows that Mick has called dibs on facing him, and she’ll respect that. It seems like there’s bad blood there.

The others: Hand to hand. High-tech combat. A touch of supernatural ability or more. Weapons expertise. High versatility.

In an uncanny way, Sara thinks, they really do mirror the Legends. Is this really how it was always meant to be? Legends vs. Time Masters, again and again and again?

“Versatile, my ass,” Charlie mutters from behind her. Sara glances around in time to see her cracking her knuckles. “I’ll show that minger who’s versatile.” She gives Sara a wolfish grin.

Sara grins back; it’s better than worrying. She pulls the viewscreen back to its view of the wreckage of the Vanishing Point and then glances over at Leonard.

“You ready?” she asks, trying to sound confident.

She expects snark in return. But Leonard’s eyes are cool and serious. He gives her one sharp nod, his gaze still on the viewscreen, on the place where he’d died…or they’d thought he had.

“Yes,” he says, voice low, intense. “It’s time.”

She doesn’t think he means the pun—but with Leonard, you never can tell. Sara reaches out and takes his hand, squeezing once, then lets go. They’d said what they needed to say to each other, last night.

And it is, indeed, time.

Druce’s people are waiting for them. Sara, bo in her hands, in full uniform, leads her own people toward them. She doesn’t look around to see when Leonard ghosts off on his own. She keeps her eyes forward and on the enemy.

The woman at the front of that group…it isn’t Ava. It’s a tall redhead, who’s watching them with equal parts wariness and what seems to be disgust. Sara, for now, resists the urge to glance around, looking for blond hair.

She flourishes her bo and reaches for cool confidence with a side of attitude.

“Well,” she tells the scowling woman, the one Mick had identified as Liri Lee. “Fancy meeting you all here.”

The woman laughs. “You are under arrest,” she says bluntly, coolly. “Legends? Agents of chaos, more like.” She nods sharply, looking around at them. “I’ll never understand why we just didn’t put you down like the mongrel dogs you are. Time was ordered and controlled until…”

Mick interrupts her. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he says, staring over her head at Walker Gabriel. “Less talking. More fighting.”

And he brings his heat gun up and fires.

Well, it’s not how Sara might have chosen to start all this, but it works. The other woman leaps out of the way, Gabriel roars and charges Mick, and the fight is on.

Sara whirls as Lee turns for her, blocking and feinting at the redhead. She hears the other Legends engaging the other would-be Time Masters. And she counts as she glances around: one, two, three…10 total, looks like.

No Druce. But she doesn’t see Ava either.

Where is she?

The shell of the Oculus wellspring building is just that…a shell. Leonard strolls in like he owns the place instead of his terrified dash from last time, but his heart is thudding so loudly in his chest that it seems far louder than his own footsteps.

On some level, his own body remembers what happened here. The fear, the anger, the regret, the salt and sweet of Sara’s kiss. Staring at her as long as possible, trying to take her image with him into the night.

And then Druce. One last bit of defiance before it all went away.

This time, the Time Master waits for him here. Leonard can see his figure on the platform where the device that harnessed the wellspring stood—stands. The man, who’d worn regular, if nondescript, clothing of the time while he’d held Leonard captive at the Time Bureau, is now back in the sort of robe he’d worn before.

And he’s watching Leonard approach with an expressionless face—but furious eyes.

Ah. It’s nice to know he’s managed to piss off the Time Bastard again. Leonard slows just a little, adding a touch of swagger, a smirk touching his lips. Racing heart or not, he’ll be damned if he’ll show anything other than insolence.

He halts at the far end of the bridge over to the device, studying Druce. Waits until the other man decides to speak...and then promptly beats him to it.

“Well,” he drawls, folding his arms, “seems we wound up here regardless.” He tilts his head. “Too bad it’s not gonna go the way you think it’s gonna go.”

The words appear to infuriate Druce even more—just as Leonard wants. His eyes flash, and he takes a few steps toward the other man, almost involuntarily. Leonard can now see the large knife in his hand. A killing weapon; a gutting one. Peachy.

“You…” Druce starts.

Leonard inspects his nails. “Yes,” he says curtly. “Me.” He lifts his eyes, then, letting ice fill them. “And I’m gonna win this time, too.”

His taunting is working. Druce’s face goes hard, rage spilling over into features and body language. He takes another few steps toward Leonard.

“You are nothing!” he cries at Leonard. “Do you know how old I am? What I have seen? I walked the streets of ancient Athͮenai; I have dined in the halls of the lords of the future. The man named Chrysós brought me forward from my homeland and I became his better. I…”

“Don’t care,” Leonard cuts in nonchalantly. (Though he’s kind of wondering about this “man named Chrysós.”) If Druce gets just a little closer, he’ll be able to get a hand on him and start this whole thing. “You’re still…”

“Freeze!”

Leonard’s heart contracts, mostly for Sara’s sake, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Druce. “Seriously?” he yells, however, at the sound of Ava Sharpe’s voice. “You’re using cold puns? At me?”

He can see the blond woman moving in from his left…and, then, the glint of light off the gun in her hand. Crap.

Druce smiles smugly. He’s still just a little too far away for Leonard to lunge for.

“Director Sharpe!” he says, raising his voice. “Excellent timing!” The tone dips as his eyes bore into Leonard’s, and he takes a step backward. “The release of energy should happen as close as possible to the device and the wellspring as possible. But I don’t have to be the one who kills him—as much as it would be gratifying.”

In his peripheral vision, Leonard sees Sharpe move closer. He takes a reluctant step out onto the bridge, toward Druce, who takes another step back too. Then Druce turns, moving closer to the center of the platform, trusting the bureau director with his back. He’s that sure of her.

Leonard hears Sharpe draw in a quiet breath, and he dares a swift glance at her. The bureau director’s face is still and thoughtful, and her demeanor isn’t nearly as committed to her course as he’d figured.

So…he rolls the dice. He transfers more of his attention to her, even as Druce raises his voice, saying something else. Sara had loved this woman—still does in a way, he’s sure of it. There’s got to be something there.

“Sure you wanna do this?” he says very quietly.

Her eyes flicker—and Leonard’s suddenly very sure he’s right. He gives Sharpe a tiny nod, and just like that, they’re on the same page.

“Sara truly was telling the truth,” Sharpe says quietly. “All of it.”

“Pretty sure she wouldn’t lie to you,” he says just as quietly. “Sara takes care of the people she cares about. She’s lost too many of them.”

Ava nods, as Druce, realizing something is happening, turns back toward them. And then, in a lightning-swift move, she shifts, turning the gun on Druce.

The Time Master’s jaw drops.

Leonard watches as he struggles with what’s just happened. The look on Druce’s face is priceless, disbelief and horror and anger warring with each other. Anger wins.

“You were supposed to be one of us!” he roars, spitting mad. “A Time Master! You idiot! You’ve thrown it all away!”

Sharpe retorts, but Leonard is suddenly hearing words spoken not so long ago.

Find a crack in what’s supposedly meant to happen.

Ava Sharpe had, after all, become a Time Master, in the way things went before. Now, she wouldn’t be one. Because of her own decision, her own choice--the things that all time turns on.

One little crack is all you need to start it.

“Do what you need to do,” Sharpe tells him, voice controlled. “I’ll make sure no one else interferes.”

“Got it.”

There’s no more point in waiting. Leonard takes three swift steps toward the incensed Time Master, who’s still staring at Sharpe. And almost before Druce realizes it, Leonard grabs his arm. The other man tries to pull away, and it would be just a bit too easy to fall.

But Leonard closes his eyes, lets the temporal energy surge, and then twists.

When Leonard had worked his smaller time tricks back at the ship and outside Salvation, Sara hadn’t felt anything. John and Nora had said they could sense a flicker of some sort of energy, and Charlie had described a sort of unnerving feeling during some of the bigger surges of time. No one else had noticed.

But when something happens at the Vanishing Point, even as the Legends are still facing off with Druce’s people, everyone feels it.

Sara thinks it feels a little like the bottom dropping out of the world—or her stomach, maybe both. She stumbles, catching herself, even as things feel like they start to whirl around her. She hears her team cry out around her, and tries to look, but everything’s blurry.

And then it’s done.

Sara’s stomach tries to revolt, but she controls it, drawing in a steadying breath, grip tightening on her bo, and looks for the team. Predictably, it’s the more magical members of the group who’d felt the discharge of energy the most. Nora’s down, but Ray’s standing over her, ready to defend her. John looks a little worse for wear, but he’s on his feet—more or less. Charlie…well, Charlie’s on her hands and knees, throwing up.

And there’s one of Druce’s Time Bureau people headed right for her.

Sara yells, feeling like her voice echoes oddly, and runs toward her teammate even as Zari whirls and does the same. The man—someone named Ryder, Mick had said—glances her way, raising a weapon, and Sara crashes into him, grappling briefly before she disarms him and lays him out on the ground.

There’s a noise behind her, though, and she whirls, realizing belatedly that she’s still a little dizzy. The woman Liri Lee is right on top of her, and…

And then Lee goes flying, knocked away by the burst of some sort of energy. Like the stun guns the bureau agents sometimes use, Sara thinks…and then blinks at the person who’d wielded it.

“Need some help?” Gary Green grins at her, incongruous in his thick dark glasses and dark suit, there at the Vanishing Point.

“What?” Sara manages, glancing around. Gary’s not the only one. Other bureau agents—not the ones answering to Druce—are helping the Legends who’d been most affected by the time surge and facing the renegade bureau agents.

“We kinda stowed away,” Gary tells her. “Director Sharpe didn’t like that Druce picked all the people on the mother ship. I, uh, got a group of the ones she trusts most together.” He gives her a lopsided smile, obviously proud that he’s one of them. “Thought we might be needed.”

Hope rises in Sara’s heart. “And where is she?”

He glances toward the wellspring

When Snart had grabbed Druce’s arm, they’d both suddenly glowed with a blue light so bright that Ava had taken a few steps backward, lifting an arm to shield her eyes. Things seem to spin, and then she sees a surge of energy down in the wellspring channel below.

She has just enough time to worry about that—a scaled-down supernova, Druce had said—when the light freezes, sort of, flickering in place. Controlled and steady, she thinks dizzily.

Is Snart—the man who destroyed the Oculus—creating it after all? She can barely see their shapes in the radiant energy by the Oculus device.

It surges again. Ava closes her eyes.

When she opens them again, both men are gone. Vanished into the light.

It’s kind of nice to know that after all those years of developing concentration and attention to detail—first to spite Lewis by becoming a better crook, then because of his own pride and love of a challenge—it’s all coming back to help him now.

Leonard will admit that this is a far greater challenge than most, though. He has to use the temporal energy to keep himself, Druce, and the device and channel for the wellspring the only things that are hurtling back through time, or he could age the others here out of existence—which doesn’t bear thinking about. And Druce, once he gets over his stunned surprise at what Leonard’s doing, tries to take over, but Leonard mentally strongarms him away.

I’ll show you willpower, asshole.

And…there. So long ago. The moment the supernova was born, and a ship—a sphere?—hovers not so far away. Leonard wonders, but this is not a point when he can hesitate.

He takes a deep breath and…stops time.

The supernova fills the wellspring. The device glows. The Oculus exists once more.

And Leonard takes himself and Druce into the timestream itself.

It’s blue, all blue light and nothingness. They’re surrounded by it. Leonard, watching, see Druce’s eyes widen with…fear?...before the other man controls his expression.

“The Oculus,” the Time Master breathes. “You destroyed it…and then you created it. Symmetrical.” And then he chuckles, giving Leonard a knowing look that turns his stomach.

“Ah,” he says. “After all, you’re still the pragmatic one. And while I don’t know precisely how Ms. Sharpe’s…change of heart...will affect things now, there is room for one more member on the High Council. Is that what you want? Because…”

Leonard laughs in his face.

“Nope,” he tells Druce. “We’re just here to make sure you don’t find ways to do this again.” He pauses. “Someone called it ‘breaking the chain.’ Doesn’t matter if it happened before. It’s not happening again.”

The Time Master blinks at him, clearly surprised. “But it has happened,” he says fervently. “It must happen. Or you would not be here, I would not be there. Those so-called Legends, they would not be here. Time is a line…you may move back along it, or forward, but you can’t just split it off.”

Leonard thinks of “wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff” and the web of Hypertime that Mary had described to them. “Nope,” he says again, folding his arms. “It stops here.”

Druce’s eyes narrow. “And how, Mr. Snart, do you presume to do that?”

Leonard smirks at him. “Not me,” he corrects. “Them.”

The blue light brightens. Druce puts a hand up, looking almost frightened again. Leonard watches as the light takes a vaguely humanoid form, and the very same feeling of presence he’d felt while trapped here before.

They’d tried to help him cope, then. He knows that now. And he’s pretty sure he knows why. He’s been in juvie or jail or prison plenty of times himself.

The timestream…Time Force…regards Druce, then glances back at Leonard, who nods to them.

“Go ahead,” he says. “He deserves it.” He looks back at the Time Master, smirking. He might be more or less a good guy now…but that doesn’t mean he has to be nice.

The other man stares at him. “But…you…”

Leonard’s smirk grows. “You’re the one that imprisoned them and used them,” he says, looking back at the humanoid Time Force. “I’m the one who freed them.” He pauses. The figure of blue light takes a step toward Druce, who tries to back away but can’t. “Which one of us do you think they feel kindlier toward?”

Druce looks like a man facing his worst nightmare. “But you created the Oculus!”

“Doesn’t mean it’s controlling anything this time around…or ever again.”

And then the Time Force reaches out and grabs Druce’s arm, much like Leonard had earlier. Light flares—and they both vanish. Leonard feels a surge of power as the other man’s own store of temporal energy goes back to where it came from.

It’s all rather anticlimactic, really.

Leonard lets out a long breath, then glances around, trying to work out how he’s going to get home. He has power here…maybe he always will…but that doesn’t mean he wants to stay. He’s spent enough of his life in the timestream.

He only wonders a moment, though. That’s when the light brightens…and a humanoid figure appears there again. This time, though, they’re choosing to appear much more lifelike.

Leonard smirks a little. “So,” he drawls, studying the Time Force’s chosen form, “is this a way of pissing off the competition in the realm of...hmm...humanoid personifications of abstract concepts? By borrowing the form of the other guy’s representative?”

The entity studying him in return looks just like Barry Allen, at the moment, although they’re wearing a blue suit instead of a red one, and their eyes are nothing but blue light. They don’t respond, but they don’t seem ill-disposed toward him. Fortunately.

“So,” Leonard tells them, driven for once to fill the silence, “the Oculus is still a thing. Or a thing again, I don’t know. But no one’s gonna be controlling you with it now.” He eyes the avatar. “I kind of get the impression you wouldn’t be as easy to control anyway, now that you’re more awake and aware.”

The Time Force studies him…and then smirks. It’s not quite an expression Leonard’s ever seen on Barry’s face before, although he’s pretty sure he’s seen it in the mirror. Then, the being reaches out and takes his hand.

And with the gesture comes a question, asked directly into his mind.

It’s all Leonard can do not to jerk his hand away.

“No,” he says firmly. “Sorry, but no. I have...a lot of things to do. A life to live. But I don’t want forever.”

The entity that had just offered him immortality in the role of their caretaker inclines their head. Then they tilt it inquiringly, another clear question.

“OK, there are a few things I wouldn’t mind changing,” Leonard concedes. “If you don’t mind.”

When the Time Force indicates that they don’t mind indeed, he carefully opens his mind and lets them see, getting a prompt affirmative. Then the avatar lifts their blue-light eyes to Leonard’s and smiles again, stepping closer, a clear suggestion in their posture.

Time to go home.

Well, since Allen’s now married, he might as well enjoy this while he has the chance. Leonard closes his eyes against the light as Time-Force Barry’s lips touch his, warm, soft, and crackling with energy.

And then he’s falling into that light, again.

Ava feels like she can still see the afterimage of the blast on the inside of her eyelids when she hears someone—Sara—calling her name. She turns, watching the other woman—and some of the other Legends, plus the familiar sight of Gary and her other most-trusted agents—running toward her.

She waits uneasily for them, but Sara doesn’t hesitate. When she reaches Ava, she pulls the bureau director into her arms, hugging her soundly, spinning her around until Ava’s breathless.

“Thank god you’re OK,” Sara says, staring at her. “You are OK?

“I’m fine, Sara, I’m fine.” Ava reassures her. She starts to speak, to explain her change of heart, to apologize for not listening before, but Sara’s looking at the center of the wellspring now, and her face is still. Frozen.

Before she can speak, though, Mick Rory reaches them, scanning the area, his face a study in conflicting emotions.

“Snart?” he barks. “Where is he?”

Ava spreads her hands out before her. “He vanished. He and Druce,” she says helplessly. “Neither one of them has reappeared, although that did.” She finally turns and studies the light in the wellspring and the device atop it. “They brought it back anyway. The Oculus device.”

“It’s not like it used to be,” Sara tells her quickly. “Or, at least, it won’t be if Leonard did what he planned to.” She studies it, biting her lip. “But…”

Her voice trails off. And Ava can’t think of a damned thing to say to her.

It’s obvious…at least Sara hopes it is…that Leonard had indeed broken the chain. They’re all still here, after all. They’ve won. And Druce is gone.

But Leonard is gone too.

Sara stares into the wellspring as if it holds answers. But it didn’t last time, when it was blowing up around her, and it doesn’t now. But what if…

She turns, holding her hand out to a startled Ava. “Can I borrow your time courier?” she asks urgently. “Maybe…maybe he’s stuck again. Maybe we can get him out.”

The other woman blinks at her. “Well, yes,” she says, starts to remove the device, “but…”

“Blondie, it’s not the same.”

“But we have to…”

“Sara!”

They all turn, and Sara focuses on the figure at the entrance to the wellspring building. It’s Gideon, who’s been part of the Waverider during all this, now back in her humanoid android form.

Even from here, Sara can see her smile.

“You’re needed back on the ship!” the AI calls, amusement and relief in her tone. "There’s something there you need to see!”

#captain canary #I don't believe in destiny #legends of tomorrow #Sara x leonard #LOT fanfic

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