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the-silentium · 4 years ago

Text

Lost Future Pt. 3

Masterlist

Pairing: soulmate!Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Soulmate AU where the soulmates share their wounds. || Along with your brother, you are transported into the 1960's with a bunch of kids you don't know. Turns out they are trying to stop the 2019 apocalypse and you are playing a key part of it.

Words: 6600 words

Warnings: Violence, swears, angst, fluff, mention of death, mention of illness, blood.

A/N: I finally finished it! I hope you like this last part of our two little soulmates story! Don’t forget to leave your reactions in the comments!

Every Hargreeves and Beauchamps were gathered around the bunker’s table, reviewing the last details of the plan that would preserve humanity after April 1st, 2019 came around. Everything was perfect, you were at your best, Vanya was ready for her part to come, Five had successfully located a team of operations agents and had abducted one of the duo, teleporting him to the woods to beat the shit out of him and remove its tracker. After his messy handy work, he teleported the Commission assassin to the bunker, where you would take possession of the man and play his role.

“See ya soon.” You smiled confidently at your friends and brother. If you were unsure of your capacity to bring this mission to success, now you were pumped and ready to kick asses. You approached your target but were intercepted on your way by lips colliding with yours. The shock froze you on the spot, ironic considering that your body temperature was rising at an incredible speed. To your disappointment, you didn’t have the time to recover and reciprocate the affection that said lips parted from yours.

“Be careful.” You admired how his exterior was a flawless portrait of calm despite how agitated you could see his soul. Five’s soul was a dark charcoal grey traveled by black thin and irregular stripes, no doubt because of his time as an assassin. Its jagged edges added to the menacing picture that was your soulmate's soul, but despite it being one of the darkest you've ever seen, you never feared it.

During your first training on Five, you were intrigued by the strange soul. In your life, you've never seen one react as Five's did. When you approached, its sharp edges were clearly trying to intimidate you and keep you away at all costs. It all changed when you tenderly touched the dark flame, its form creeping around your fingers, tugging you closer. Everywhere your own soul would touch his, the nearby dark strings regressed until disappearing completely and creating little white spots here and there. You could feel the change into Five's body, the relaxation, the lightness and the feeling of belonging.

Usually, you would keep the soul to soul contact to a minimum, the intimacy of the thing being too intrusive, but with Five, his need mixed with your desire made your hands wander. You stroked his soul like you would his cheek, enveloped your arms around the defenseless flame who crashed against your form and kissed the remaining dark spots away. Five's mind has never been as peaceful as it was in this moment, the feeling of being home was so warming and appeasing that he followed you like a moth followed a light whenever you tried to separate yourself from him.

“Will you still love me at the end of all this?” His insecurities were out only for you to see.

“Forever. I promise.” You didn’t know what he thought would scare you away, you just knew that nothing could change your feelings for him.

It was a good thing that the first sessions were one on one. It allowed you to pass time with him without worrying about the others snooping around and mocking how their brother became tender.

"Always." You smiled and turned to your target. Andrew positioned himself right behind you, ready to catch your falling body while you concentrated on the agent's soul.

You pushed the light grey flame to the back of… Zachary's body and took control. With your new training, the usual nausea was now a slight dizziness and you were up and walking in seconds. Zachary's efforts to regain control of his body were totally vain. The Hargreeves had an advantage while fighting your soul: they knew what you were. The agent had no clue, making it infinitely easier to block his attempt to take control.

The pain radiating from Five's beating was omnipresent. You were sure that some ribs were broken along with other major injuries. Oh and the abdominal pain you felt? Clearly not normal. Every detail of the mission was thought through, meaning that if you returned to Zachary's partner unarmed, there would be suspicions so you had to play the game and act as hurt. The easiest play of your life, really. The pain was pretty real so that wouldn't be a big deal. You weren’t even sure you could walk.

Five’s face showed his concern when he saw you struggle to sit up. His hand reached out to help you, only to be batted away by your own.

"It’s fine. I can do it." You saw his hands closing into fists at your pained grunts.

You lost your footing when you got off the table and fell to the ground in a yelp.

"I’m fine." You tried to get up again but the white pain in your abdomen was too much.

"No you’re not. Stop trying to get up." Your soulmate positioned himself behind you. "Can you still do it?" You knew he was concerned about your well being, but pain had a tendency to make you impatient.

"Yes and the sooner we start the sooner it ends. So let’s go." Your fogged mind almost didn’t register Five’s surprise at your outburst. "Sorry."

"No you’re right." He shook his head before grabbing a bloody pocket knife from his shorts. "Ready?" You answered with a nod, the knife went to your throat and you both teleported away, in the motel room Diego and Andrew found out to be rented by the Commissioners. Zachary's partner… Brendan lifted his gun as soon as he noticed the newcomers.

"Tell the Handler that my patience is getting thin." A groan fell from your mouth as Five tugged on your hair and exposed your throat. "And make sure to tell her that the next time I see one of her little puppets, she won't see me coming." The tension keeping your head up disappeared in a blue light, causing you to tumble to fall forward in a groan. Brendan was quick to kneel next to you to assess your wounds.

"Shit! He got you freakin' good that asshole."

"Damn midget was quick." You grunted in response, hands gripping your abdomen.

"The hell did he do to you?" Brendan helped you get on a bed and you recited the story Five gave you. "Dammit! We have to report that to the Handler." Brendan’s nervous back and forth walking was intriguing.

Curious about why reporting to the woman seemed so troublesome, you turned back to Zachary's soul and probed his memory. Five had warned you that the woman was special, but you didn't think it was that bad. The woman was mad, that was a fact. But when it came to your soulmate? Holy shit. She was a psychopath devil wearing Prada.

"You do it. I have to go to the infirmary." Gripping your ribs, you didn’t even have to force your sentence to sound out of breath. From what you've gathered on Brendan, he wasn't the bravest one, meaning that he would insist for you to come with him to face the wolf that is the Handler.

"You were the one kidnapped. You tell the story." Bingo.

Breathing in sharply, you gestured for the blonde to come over. He grabbed the briefcase sitting on his bed to fix the proper date and location before walking over to your bloody form. He assured that your grip on him was secured and pressed the buttons to activate the teleportation. As it was your first briefcase travel, you weren’t prepared for the twist your stomach graciously executed, forcing Zachary’s last meal to hurry up your esophagus and fall on the floor in a brownish puddle.

Brendan jumped away fairly quickly, scrunching up his nose in disgust. "Could’ve warned me man."

You barely had time to shoot him an annoyed glance that medical staff took you away to treat your injuries and test you in case of a concussion, letting you time to analyze your surroundings between each test and identify potential exits if it ever came to that. From time to time you had to turn to Zachary, who was still clueless of what was happening to him, shown by his incessant attempts to order his body to move, and push him farther. His pleas for someone to help him were loud and clear, disrupting your attempts to concentrate and answer the nurses questions.

The nurses left you alone in your private room now that every wound on your new male body was disinfected and patched to their liking. You refused every painkiller that was offered to you in fear of losing control over Zachary’s body and also to keep your mind focussed on the task at hand. One of the doctors came back with what you assumed was your file, explaining how lucky you were to be alive blablabla. You weren’t lucky. You just had the best assassin of the whole timeline as soulmate and he happened to know where to strike to cause maximum damage without killing its prey.

"The nurses will prep you for your surgery. Your spleen has been damaged and is now bleeding into your abdomen."

You raised your hand to interrupt him. "No, I have to talk to the Handler first. It’s urgent." Your heartbeat accelerated as your nervosity increased. The surgery would eat up too much of your precious time and who knew what would happen of you when under anesthesia.

"Sir. We have to bring you into surgery as soon as-"

"I said no! If you want me to have this surgery, you’ll have to get the Handler here first!" You cut him off.

"We don’t have ti-" The poor doctor was cut off about, but by a feminine cough this time. His fear clearly showed on his face at the vision of the extravagant lady in the doorframe.

"Good thing that I’m already here then. I’m sure we can have a little five minutes. Go get yourself a coffee." Her tone seemed sweet despite her hard commanding eyes, their intensity raising the hairs on your arms.

The argument was clearly over. The doctor hurried out of the room, allowing the blonde woman to take her time to talk to you. As you took in her sweet exterior, her radiant smile and her interesting clothes, you were thankful for your ability to see everyone's true self, because if you had crossed her path without being able to see her jet black soul, you feared that you would have trusted her without a second thought.

"I see Number Five hasn't lost his touch." She gestured vaguely at your numerous injuries with her perfectly manicured hand, which you couldn't help but notice, the vibrant red looking like blood on the top of her fingers. "But I guess he did lose some efficiency in his adorable little shorts, you are still breathing after all."

"He charged me to deliver a message to you ma'am." A gurgling sound punctuated your words, causing you to cough as soon as you finished your sentence.

"You will have to do it quickly darling, we don't want you to run out of time before you tell me." She moved closer to hear your words better. Her lack of empathy hit you right in the gut, you, no, Zachary was dying and she couldn't find it in herself to at least fake some kindness.

"Karma is a bitch." You chuckled at her confusion before quickly leaving Zachary's body behind and entering hers. The slight vertigo that you were now used to wasn’t as bad as when you trained with the Hargreeves. Despite what you thought, she hasn’t seen you coming and offered no resistance. You let yourself the time to adjust while she still hasn’t detected you yet, her confusion overwhelming your mind and senses. Soon though, she started to feel wrong and tried to walk away from the weak form of the injured agent. Panic flooded through her mind when she realized that her body wouldn’t do as asked. What is happening?

"Oh. You just got hijacked.” You snickered. Make sure that the Handler was in the building, check! You walked out of the room just as the doctor came back to take the dying man to surgery. Not knowing that this agency was full of murderers, you would have felt bad for what was coming, but you knew.

You ventured into endless corridors, your destination in mind. You had to make it there without having to search her mind for the directions if possible. You tried to block out her murderous thoughts, her rage sounding like thunder under your skull gave you a really bad headache. Fortunately for you, you had had your fair share of headaches in your life meaning that you had a good tolerance for them.

Unfortunately for you was that you couldn’t make your way out of these damns corridors and find the briefcase room. Five had formally forbidden you to peek into her mind, saying that her mind was too dangerous to adventure yourself into. You hated to admit that he was right.

Five's soul was definitely nothing compared to the one right in front of you. The craziness that was boiling into its depth was licking at yours in an attempt to corrupt you or scare you away, you weren't sure which.

“Ma’am? Are you alright?” You almost didn’t register the concerned voice into all the chaos of your head. A sweet-looking woman was

“Y-Yes.” You pinched your nose at the waver in your voice. “I’m just feeling out of it today.” Andrew would have been proud of your acting talent, he always told you that you were terrible. “Could you please show me the way to the briefcase room?”

Her brown eyes widened as if you had insulted her whole family, stressing you out. What did you say wrong? I never say please, you little shit. You mentally facepalmed at that.

“Em. Sure, ma’am. This way.”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stay silent when the Handler didn’t stop screaming in your head. You focussed on placing one foot in front of the other without face-planting in your high-heels while massaging your temple with your fingers. The headache was slowly morphing into a migraine, it wasn’t good.

As soon as you saw the desired room, you made your way in it, caught the first one, and quickly inserted the right time coordinates.

The numbness creeping slowly into your mind scared you to no end. Tiny strings of her soul tried to reach yours, sometimes succeeding and making your heart rate skyrocket. Every barrier you tried to put between you, she would destroy them or find a way to pass through the cracks. At first, she tried to take control again but when she realized that it wouldn’t work, she then passed to stab your mind with her own. Images of dead bodies would then flash before your eyes at her fortunate stabs, some bloodier than others, some had severed limbs, others were disfigured. It disgusted you how these people were butchered like they were animals. Then why are you helping their killer? You froze in place, the severity of her words hitting you like a train.

It… couldn’t be. You knew he was a killer, Five never lied about doing atrocities in the past, but hearing it and seeing it were two different things.

“You forced him to do it…” As much as you wanted to believe your own words, you knew that it couldn’t erase the fact that he did it nonetheless.

“Y/N! Are you alright?” Your body was suddenly shaked back and forth, making you blink a couple of times to regain your senses. You were back at the bunker, in Andrew's arms, the Hargreeves concerned gazes fixed on you. As much as it hurt to do so, you couldn't find it in yourself to meet Five's gaze, the memories of lifeless corpses lingering at the back of your mind.

"I'm okay." Your voice was small, tired, just like how you felt.

"You don't look okay." You shrugged it off, entering your previous location's coordinates as the next destination in the briefcase and made your way toward Vanya, holding your hand out to her. You fled your problems as soon as you could.

Helping Vanya to stay on her wobbly feet was more difficult than you thought with the deadly high-heels you were wearing. You ditched them after having once again entered the bunker as your terminus.

A metallic sound caught your attention, the handcuffs in Vanya's hand shone under the neon light of the empty office. With a single nod, Vanya caught your wrist in one of the loops and closed the other around one of the many metal bars blocking the window. Everything was in place. Now, the last thing for you to do was get into Vanya's body and stay on the backseat while she used her ability to destroy the complex.

You visualized the bright white soul that was Vanya's and made a move to get out of the Handler's body when a sharp stab into your essence pulled you back into it. I wonder how Five will take that his soulmate doesn't make it back.

Cold sweat covers your body instantly, panic surging through your every nerves. Her soul found an opening into your fragilized wall and took advantage of it. Black threads emerging from her soul had wrapped themselves around yours, keeping you prisoner of her physical form. You let your guard down and it would now cost you your life.

"Y/N, everything alright?"

You slowly shook your head, tears forming into your eyes. You choked on your air, the Handler fighting you for control. The hours spent into Zachary's body, the pain you had to endure, all the time travelling, the body jumping added to the images of your soulmate's victims rendered you tired, allowing the mad woman to push you back to second.

"Five should have known better than to send a little" Her soul gripped yours as tightly as it could, her wrath flowing around in a psychotic manner making you almost pass out. "weakling to control me."

"Leave her alone." You haven't heard Vanya's voice much during the time you passed with her family under the yellow house. She was always shy, keeping her thoughts to herself. It surprised you that she managed to express herself in such a stern manner, an excited shudder ran through you. Maybe you had a chance.

"If you uncuff me." The grip on you tightened at Vanya's hesitation. "Or I'll crush her."

Oh. Bad idea. Once brown eyes suddenly became as white as snow, her soul and body glowing in the dimly lit room. The Handler's grip on you slipped when a blue stream hit her square in the chest, her body falling to the ground with her hand still tied to the bars.

Seeing an opening, you swiftly threw yourself out, seeking refuge into Vanya's mind. The silence that reigned there was welcome, you let yourself fall limply somewhere into the depth of Vanya's form, totally drained from the last interference. She must have felt your forced entry because the next thing you knew, her soul was shining like a thousand suns followed by the sound of destruction.

Vanya's power wave exploded the walls and ceiling surrounding you along with the entirety of the Commission's complex. You blacked out when Vanya made her way into the air, a bubble protecting her from the debris with the briefcase in hand.

…………………………….

11 days. The 11 best days of your life. Even though you passed them fighting to prevent the apocalypse, you would never change them for anything. You had the opportunity to meet your soulmate, fall in love with him and get to know him along with his family.

Back in your very own body, you were delighted when you learned that the apocalypse wouldn't happen in 2019 now that the Commission's base was reduced to ashes. The happiness you felt from Five's kisses and the loud cheers resonating around you was short lived, Andrew's sad gaze met yours, causing your eyes to tear up. He forced himself to smile, but you saw right through his facade. This same smile was forcing his handsome features back then and it hurt just the same to see him trying to be positive for your sake when he was himself drowning in his sorrow.

You leaved a confused Five behind and rushed into your brother's arms, your hands closing on his shirt in tight fists. His arms wrapped around your form just as tightly as yours were around his, the thought of leaving him behind again filling you with dread.

"I love you so much." The sob breaking your brother's whisper torned your heart apart.

"What's going on?" Unbeknownst to you, the room had stopped celebrating, instead focussing their attention on the odd scene happening before them. Allison was the first to ask what everyone was secretly thinking.

You took a deep breath, mentaly preparing yourself for Five's reaction at your next words. Releasing the fabric, you separated yourself from Andrew's shirt and joined your hands in front of you in an attempt to stop them from shaking. As soon as your soulmate noticed them, he space-jumped next to you in hope of giving you comfort, instead you cower back into Andrew's chest, but this time facing the rest of the group. You avoided his hurt gaze by watching your fingers.

"I-" The lump closing your throat made it difficult to speak your mind. A reassuring hand fell on your shoulder hoping to give you the strength needed. "I won't be there when you go back to 2019."

"It's fine, I can space-jump to Canada without a problem." Five frowned, concerned about why you being in another country was an issue.

"That's not what I mean." You shook your head and closed your eyes tightly in hope to keep the tears at bay. "What I mean is, when you go back in 2019 I won't be there 'cause I'll be dead. I died in 2009 of a brain tumor."

There, finally it was out! Minus the sharp breaths here and there, the room was utterly silenced. That is until Five kicked the nearby coffee table. The sudden sound made you jump and open your eyes to meet the image of your angry soulmate. You almost regretted telling him, but you knew that he deserved to know.

"That's impossible. You wouldn't be here if you were. Ben isn't." You had to fight yourself to not avoid his angry gaze. He was in denial and you would help him through it. You had accepted your death long ago, your eternal slumber along with your last moments still engraved into your memory.

You could feel yourself floating in comfortable darkness. Your senses were numb, no sounds bouncing around, nothing to taste, nothing to see, nothing to touch, nothing to smell. You couldn’t tell why, but being this senseless made you panic slightly. How long had you been there? An hour? A day? A year? You had no memories of how you ended in this isolated place. However, something in you, hidden deep inside, said that this was better. This was safe. The appeasing thought cleared your mind and allowed your muscles to slowly loosen.

A flash of color appears in front of you. No. Not in front of you. In your mind. Light green orbs watched you closely. Their magnificent color was tainted by tears. Why is he crying? Light brown strands fall in front of his eyes, hiding his tears from your view. His hair was chaotic like he had passed countless times combing his hand through his strands. A chuckle rose in your throat, aiming to be set free and be heard. Only silence resonated in your ears.

His form is now shaking slightly. His untamed locks moved in quick succession and sobs reached you. His distress felt like a punch to the gut, stealing all of your air and squeezing your heart. You desperately wanted to reassure him, but at this point in time, all you could manage to do was stay still and wait for your fast-approaching end. Right, I was- You never got to relieve him of his pain, forming the second biggest regret of your life. You felt a pressure on your right hand, warmth spreading from the contact.

“You’ll get better soon Panda. I promise,” His sobs stopped and a tear-stained face forced a smile at you. Despite seeing the most hurtful smile on his lips, you believed him. The pain already started to fade away. “You’ll be alright.”

The day I died. Your brother was right, you were alright. You weren’t suffering anymore. No more dizziness, no more vomiting, no more seizures and no more explosive migraines. You were free. Only… Your biggest regret would continuously haunt you. I never got to meet him.

In the background, you could faintly hear the flatline of the EKG along with the last cry of your precious brother and parents calling your name.

"I got diagnosed with a brain tumor in Spring 2003. The tumor appeared out of nowhere, but I remember feeling it developing in me. It felt like every cells of my body were vibrating."

Five remembered the first time he time-traveled. It was in Spring 2003 and he remembers the exhilarating feeling of the power vibrating within his body.

"Then I felt warm, even with the cold wind outside. That's when I knew something was wrong."

Five's first attempt to time travel was small. He aimed to the next season: Summer.

"After that, there was a weird nagging feeling that made me nauseous. Then again, I felt the vibrations and suddenly felt cold."

Five, in the excitation of the moment decided to travel further into the future, in the next Winther.

"And again, I felt the vibrations followed by the warmth. But then I don't know. It felt like something inside me broke."

Five decided to aim higher; many years later, landing in the apocalypse. Despite his best efforts to go back, he was stuck there.

"So I survived for 6 years before I died in 2009."

You didn't register Andrew's grasp tightening on your shoulder, but you did register Five falling to his knees in defeat. You hurried to his side, concern guiding your movements. Your hands found their home on his cheeks, wipping away the tears falling from his sad blue eyes.

"I caused this. I'm so sorry." He engulfed your form into a desperate hug, hiding his sobs into the crook of your neck. The sound of his whimpers hurt you the most.

"Well, maybe we can go back and find a way to cure you." Luther said while comforting a crying Allison.

You shook your head, you knew it was pointless. "My parents tried everything. My tumor couldn't be removed, it was too close to a vital area and because of my ability, my tumorous cells were mutated. So chemotherapy and radiation therapy had no effect." You tenderly stroke Five's cheek to get his attention. "This wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was!" His yell made you jump. "When I time-traveled it put your cells under the same pressure than mine and because yours were not made for it, it formed a tumor!" The tears wouldn't stop falling down his face, dampening the hem of his shirt and breaking the last pieces of your heart. You had fucked up by allowing him to fall in love with you.

"I can make you forget me." The mere idea of doing it made you sick however, if it could appease his pain, you were willing to do it.

Five's eyes widened before his hands gripped both your shoulders harshly. A yelp escaped your lips at the movement, alerting your brother who jumped into action. Too late. Five had teleported the both of you at the opposed side of the room, his distressed state only allowing him that much.

"Don't you dare do that! You really think that I'd give up the only thing that made me survive the apocalypse without saying shit? I was alone for forty-five years and the possibility of meeting my soulmate one day was the only thing that gave me the strength to continue to fight! Everything I did during those forty-five years was to save our future Y/N!"

"Hey listen-" Andrew was cut off by a furious Five.

"No you listen, asshole. For once I thought I would be able to be happy! My life on the run was finally over and I could start fresh! But I'll never get to live that because she will be dead when we get back!" His breathing was getting erratic, his eyes were wide and his soul was getting more and more agitated. You noticed the once thin black strings were now not only thicker but longer too. Worry made you take his hands in yours.

"And whose fault is this, genius?"

"Andrew!" Your scream made everyone stop, even Five whose fists started flowing a soft blue, definitely planning on teleporting to your brother and beat him with all of his cumulated rage. Instead, you turned to him and asked him to teleport you both away. His eyes met yours for a second before your wish came true.

You were now at the brim of a forrest with no one around to hear what you had to say.

"Five," You took his cheek in your hands and met his angry orbs with your teary ones. "I can't thank you enough for loving me. The moments I passed with you were the best of my life and I am so, so sorry for not telling you earlier about my condition. I love you and believe me, I would do anything to be able to live alongside you." You started crying at one point and burried your face in the crook of his neck.

His arms circled your waist, pulling you further into him to register every detail of your body. Your loud sobs almost covered Five's small whisper.

"Can you do it again?"

"What?" You pulled away slightly, confused about his intentions.

"Like in training."

Ah that. You were puzzled as to why he would want you to do that right now but if it could help him get better, there's no way you would deny him. So you focussed your mind into transfering your soul into his body, lovingly tracing his soul with your fingers to appease his suffering.

You felt the shudder running up Five's spine, along with the blush warming his cheeks, earning a chuckle from you. It made you sad to think that this was the last time you would be able to tease him that way.

"Now stay in there while I get us back home."

"What?!"

"This doesn't have to be the end of us." Your body was leaned down with the utmost care on the feet of a birch tree.

"Are you sure it's gonna work?"

"I have to try." He coughed to get himself together and teleported back to the bunker where he met an angry brunette.

"Where the hell is my sister?" Luther and Diego tried to intercept the angry teenager before he got to their brother, forgetting that it was pretty simple for him to dematerialize himself and pass through them. You would have laughed at Diego's horrified face if Andrew's fist wasn't coming swiftly towards Five's face. What a drag. Five thought.

He dodged the hit by teleporting away, near the briefcase where he entered the coordinated leading to 2019.

"She's with me."

You would have rolled your eyes at Five's condescending tone if you had a physical body.

"He's worried, Five. You weren't better."

He scoffed and made his way in the center of the room. He would never admit that you had such an effect on him, even though he knew it has been pretty clear in the last minutes.

"Why?" Andrew was now less angry and more confused. Quite frankly, so were you.

"If her mind travels within another body, maybe her soul will stay alive." You hummed in approval. It could work. On his side, Andrew nodded and hurriedly flicked Five’s forehead, a groan erupting from the Hargreeve’s throat. You laughed at the gesture, making sure to restrain your soulmate’s movement so he wouldn’t hurt Roo for something that was destined to you.

“You better visit me when you get back.”

“It’s a promise!” You said after quickly gaining control of Five’s body to smile at your brother, one last time. As funny that the irritation radiating from Five was, you had something to do, so you gave him back the charge of his own body and got comfortable in some quiet corner of his mind.

The time travel to 2019 was a success. All 6 Hargreeves now back in their adult bodies, cheered at their accomplishment, some jumping into their siblings arms while others proposed to go get a drink. Five was delighted that finally, everything would be okay, his family was safe and he could live a life as normal as possible.

“Wait wait!” Klaus stopped the group from leaving the lobby of the Umbrella Academy manor and turned to his blue-eyed sibling. “Did it work? Is she still with you?”

Five took a moment to concentrate and search his mind for your presence. Usually his soul would easily find yours and interlace itself until both nearly merged together. This time, though, the desired reaction never came. With each passing second without finding you, Five’s eyes would widden more and more alerting his siblings of the problem.

Five desperately yelled your name in hope that maybe your soul had just fallen asleep or something and that you would suddenly reach out to him and soothe his worries. Seconds passed without any movement from you part, bringing Five to his knees once again. His plan didn’t work and you were lost to him forever.

“Five, let us help.”

Just as a comforting hand reached for his shoulder, Five teleported himself away to hide the new wave of tears that were falling down his cheeks. “There’s nothing any of you can do.” His voice broke just like the last string of his heart that was keeping it together. A scream broke the silence of the house, all of his pain expressing itself and bouncing around in the empty corridors, reaching his shooked siblings. It was the scream of someone who’d lost everything he had and they were scared of the lengths his desperation would push him to make himself feel better.

Even after 2 months, Five couldn’t stop himself and plan a way to get back to you. He elaborated multiple scenarios and outcomes to find a secure way to be able to go back and restore what he destroyed, meaning your brain. His bedroom walls were worse than the time he had to write his equations to find who to kill to prevent the apocalypse. Every day one of his siblings would come and see how he was doing and maybe share some words that were never answered, trying to see if their brother was lost to them too.

On the 67th day, Vanya received a text from Andrew, asking Five to meet at an address. When the news got to him, Five’s hand froze in the middle of his writing. You had promised to see him when you got back. The thought made Five’s anger boil in his veins. You made 2 promises that you didn’t keep. You had promised to love him forever, yet you were gone and now Andrew was expecting you somewhere in your country. Taking it upon himself, Five made multiple jumps to finally reach the desired destination.

“Vanya told me you had a hard time to accept that she was gone.” Immediately, Five’s hand curled into a fist, ready to lash out at the man who was proclaiming to be your brother but let you down without a fight. He wasn’t there for a whole second that Andrew was already poking into the wounds of his heart.

Five’s fist shot through the cold air of the Canadian autumn, aiming at Andrew’s face full force. Five prepared himself for the pain that usually comes when bones hit bones, yet he felt no pain, instead losing his balance when his fist passed right through the brunette. Unable to regain his balance in time, the man fell to his knees right in front of a stone. No, not a stone.

Y/N Beauchamps

October 1st, 1989

March 14th, 2009

Your grave. The sight of it made it even more real. You weren’t coming back. His anger along with his need to fight disappeared, letting place to his grief. He cries silently, his form still kneeling before the stone marking your last home. Andrew stayed close behind for a while, eyes fixed to your grave before finally touching its corner softly and walking away.

Time passed and Five couldn’t take his eyes away from your name engraved into the stone.

“I’m scared that I will lose it for good. That I'll return to be the monster that I was back at the Commission.” His puffy eyes had no more tears to share after a whole 2 months of crying your death. “I miss you so much.” He gently reached for your grave, touching the letters with care like they were a part of you.

“Took you long enough, soulmate.” Your voice echoed through his head, hurting Five even more. He was hallucinating your voice again. “Oh, no. It’s really me.” The feeling of your soul enveloping his made him gasp and fall on his behind. He could hear your voice in his dreams, your laugh in the wind, see your form in a crowd but never, never could he recreate the feeling of your souls mending.

“Y/N!?”

“I missed you too, Five.” The feeling of a kiss fell on his cheek despite anyone being around, filling him in utter joy. You were back.

“H-How-” He couldn’t form a tangible sentence, making you chuckle in the back of his mind. Its sound melted his insides and would have brought tears to his eyes if only his body wasn’t dehydrated from his last crying session.

“You were right. My mind time-travelled with your body, but the jump ate the last of my energy which forced me out of you and back at my grave.” You traced his soul with yours, eliciting a delighted sigh from Fives’s lips. “I couldn’t go and find you, so I had to wait for you to come to me.”

“Sorry for taking so long. I should have known.”

“Don’t. We are together now.” You soul snuggled into his before separating yourself and making Five panic. “Relax, I’m just incredibly tired.”

“Will you be there when you wake up?” A part of his soul reached for you, enveloping itself around a part of yours like you two were holding hands. The fear radiating from him made you dizzy.

“Yes.” You settled again into a corner of his mind, his soul still connected to yours. “Oh and Five?” He hummed in acknowledgement. “I never break a promise. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Your presence into Five’s mind kept him sane, while your appearance in his dreams made him whole.

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #soulmate #tua #the umbrella academy #the boy #number five #the handler #heartbrake #angst #lost future

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banalbones · 5 years ago

Text

The Petite Prince: Chapter 6

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8

Chapter 6: The Prince’s Plan

Summary: Roman is a child. Virgil and Logan have finally found him, no one is pleased with Patton and Patton just wanted to give Roman some brownies.

Words: 2510

Ships: Familial prinxiety, logince and Creativitwins. Eventual familial royality, roceit and DRLAMP

Genre: Fluff with a side dose of angst

Warnings: A few swears, arguing, falling, tell me if there’s any more!

Taglist: @pricklyfish777 @sunflowerblondeuwu @itriedandimtired @draw-your-perfect-world @cemmy @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @nonbinary-lizard-2

________________________

Patton was glancing around Remus’s room when the ceiling fell in, two figures with it. Two figures who were…

Logan and Virgil?

Logan and Virgil!

And Remus was watching them, a hysterical grin on his face.

And then… a child?

Patton was really confused.

It looked to him, and it’s face crumpled.

It then let out a small “Wha?” and began shrinking rapidly.

Is it regressing? And why did it seem so sad when it saw me? And who is it?

Regardless of who the child- well, now the baby- was, Patton needed to help it! He rushed over to the baby, only to be stopped by an arm barring his way.

“Hey!”

“Stay away from him,” Remus’s voice snarled. The grin had completely faded from his face, leaving only a stormy expression in its place.

All I wanted to do was give Roman brownies. What is happening?

___________________________

Remus grinned madly as the left brain boys fell through the ceiling, screaming their heads off.

Hehe… imagine if their heads actually fell off.

“Why hello there! Enjoy your trip?”

Virgil looked up and whacked Logan on the arm, whispering something to the logical side. Logan’s head whipped towards him, his expression something Remus couldn’t quite place.

“Wha?”

Remus turned his head towards his baby bro, grinning wider.

Then he saw Patton.

The grin faded from his face immediately.

The Duke looked back towards the smol one, and saw him growing smaller.

What?!

It was Patton. It had to be.

Remus moved closer to the even littler prince, before seeing that the moral side was doing the same.

He whipped his arm out, stopping the dad from getting any closer.

“Hey!”

“Stay away from him,” Remus snarled.

Like hell was he going to let the cause of this extra regression go anywhere near his brother.

________________________

Virgil screamed as the floor crashed beneath him, arms flailing madly.

He landed in a heap in the rubble of the floor (ceiling?), with Logan sprawled out beside him. He then spotted a bewildered looking Roman sitting on the floor.

“Why hello there! Enjoy your trip?”

The emo turned his head, looking for the source of the voice, and found Remus. He whacked Logan on the arm.

“Logan,” he hissed, “Remus is here. And so is Roman. He kidnapped him!”

Virgil was aware that that wasn’t the only possible thing that could have happened, but it was the first thing that his (admittedly shook up) mind came up with, and it was the thing he decided to cling to.

At least the bean seemed to be okay.

“Wha?”

Virgil heard the small, adorable voice of the petite prince and once again turned his head to see him regressing.

Wait, regressing?!

What was the cause? Regression only happened when sides were feeling too many bad feelings, or when they were overwhelmed.

Was Roman feeling overwhelmed?

Was he making him feel overwhelmed?!

And then Virgil saw Patton.

Now, Virgil loved Patton, he was like a father figure to the anxious side, and he had always been there when Virgil needed it. But at this moment in time, after hearing all of what had just happened with the dad, snake and prince, his feelings were changing.

And fast.

It was obvious that Patton was the cause of the beans re-regression, and so when he moved towards the small royal, Virgil was ready to jump up and shield the precious child-or baby.

And then the trash gremlin flung out an arm to stop the dad.

Was he… protecting Roman?

“Hey!”

“Stay away from him.”

Maybe Remus wasn’t as bad as he first thought.

______________________

Logan, though he would never admit it, screamed, as he fell through the floor.

Ow.

Wait, where am I? I can’t see. Why do I have to be blind?

The logical side looked around, seeing a few wall shaped blobs, and then a figure in red and white.

Roman?

Maybe the miniature prince could summon him a new pair of glasses.

That would be nice.

Logan was saw caught up in his thoughts of longing for clear eyesight that he missed the voice speaking to him.

Then he was whacked on the arm.

Once again, ow.

“Logan,” Virgil’s voice hissed in his ear, “Remus is here. And so is Roman. He kidnapped him!”

That doesn’t seem entirely probable.

But Logan still looked up and gazed around until catching sight of a green and black blob. It wasn’t moving much.

That really doesn’t seem likely.

“Wha?”

Well, Roman is definitely here.

He looked back to where the red and white blob was, and saw a bright teal one move towards it, only to be stopped by the green and black one.

“Hey!”

Was that Patton?

“Stay away from him.”

Logan decided that something bad was happening, and closed his eyes.

It would be much easier to deal with this if I could see.

Seriously, having less than 20/20 vision was annoying.

_________________________

“Wha?”

Roman wasn’t sure what was happening. There were too many big people! And they were getting bigger!

Roman, in the back of his mind, knew who these people were, but he couldn’t- he just couldn’t! Not now, anyway.

Then the loud noises started.

The big people were shouting at each other, most of them at the blue one.

Roman didn’t know why, but the blue one made him sad.

Sad, sad, sad.

Tears leaked from the miniature princes eyes, his lips wobbling as he held back full on sobs. He didn’t want the big people to shout at him.

But then the shouting got louder, and he couldn’t help himself.

He let out a loud wail.

The shouting stopped almost immediately.

Oh no.

__________________________

Virgil was getting mad.

Both he and Remus were trying to keep Patton away from the bean, but the moral side kept on arguing back.

“You’re the one who’s making him so upset!”

“How? I don’t even know who he is!”

“He was five before he saw you, he was getting better!”

“Well I’m sorry I wanted to give Roman brownies-”

A loud wail sounded throughout the room, and the three realized their mistake.

For in trying to protect the petite prince, they had caused him greater harm.

I made the bean cry.

I…

Holy crap what have I done?!

______________________

Logan heard the cry of the red and white blob and made his way towards it. He was now 93% certain that the blob was Roman, and that he was crying, and that crying wasn’t good.

The other three sides had fallen silent as soon as the wail sounded, so Logan decided that he was the only one who should go near the child.

Logan knelt down next to the small royal and picked him up, causing the cries to stop. The prince was a lot smaller than he remembered. What had happened?

…

A small hand reached up and whacked his face, before tapping the logical side’s nose.

And suddenly, Logan could see!

The familiar weight of his glasses on his nose was surprisingly comforting.

The same small hand from before whacked his face again, prompting him to look down.

What in the name of god…

Why is he a baby?

Logan knew that the younger the age of regression, the more intense the ‘bad’ emotions, but a side growing younger whilst already regressed? That was unheard of.

“What the fuck did you guys do?” Logan asked, at last acknowledging the other sides, “He seems to be fifteen months old. That’s the youngest any side has gotten!”

The nerd looked around, spotting the horror on Virgil’s face, the anger and shock on Remus’s and the guilt on Patton’s.

The idiot list was back and stronger than ever.

Then a quiet “Mama?”

Logan glared at the other sides before turning his attention back to Roman. “Yes?”

The small prince chubby little face broke into a grin.

“Mama!”

Logan normally would have felt overwhelmed at the cuteness in his arms, but he really needed to know what had happened.

“Well?”

Silence.

This would take longer than he thought.

__________________________

“Who… is that Roman?” Patton whispered.

Logan rolled his eyes.

“Yes.”

Patton frowned.

Roman had regressed? That wasn’t good.

That was terrible!

And he was apparently the cause? Even worse!

“I didn’t mean to… I was just trying to protect him! But I hurt him more… what if he hates me now? What if he got so sad because of me that he never grows up again? What if I broke Roman?!”

Virgil was obviously panicking, and was going on a tangent because of it.

Patton wanted to help him so, so much, but he knew that it would probably cause more harm than good.

Swallowing down his words of comfort, the dad turned to Remus, who was being strangely silent.

Roman was obviously affecting the sides in drastic ways.

And he had regressed twice.

Patton didn’t know what to do.

Because he had caused this.

____________________

I did this. I did this to my baby bro. I made him get younger all because I wanted to pull a prank.

Remus walked up to Logan.

“Do you have the crown?”

Logan frowned, before nodding towards a satchel amidst the rubble of the ceiling. Remus walked over to it and took out the piece of crinkled yellow paper.

The little prince had really wanted the crown, so it was time to give it to him, and then go.

Possibly forever.

The Duke placed the paper crown on his literal baby bro’s head, trying to ignore the big green eyes staring at him.

“Br-br-ReeRee?”

Remus gave a watery smile to the smol one, before turning on his heel to leave.

“Don’ go!”

_____________________

Roman was confused.

The big people, two of which he had identified, were all so sad.

He had thought they would be mad at him for making so much noise, like with Big him, but they were just sad.

Determination filled the little prince’s eyes.

Sad=bad.

Mama no sad, so ReeRee and the other two no sad!

And so with this excellent plan in mind, Roman’s mission began.

Just because he felt sad, that didn’t mean other people should too!

_____________________

That’s a really cute mindset!

Yeah…

It’s cute for a child, but not for an adult.

You shouldn’t push assside your own pain to sssstop others.

Oh. I guess that makes sense.

_____________________

Logan looked at the prince in his arms, at the determination in his eyes and smiled softly.

The baby had a plan.

Roman pointed to the floor, most likely wanting to be put down. Logan nodded and obliged, then watched as the tiny prince crawled over to Remus before latching himself onto to his big brothers leg, almost like a koala.

Remus then looked down at the child, who was now pouting and saying “Stay.”

The Duke stared sadly at Roman, before relenting as the prince made puppy dog eyes.

Logan smirked.

Smart kid.

The royal’s face then broke into a wide, happy grin.

“YAY!”

I think the little prince is much smarter than we give him credit for.

________________________

It’s true. I am extremely intelligent.

The child version of you is, don’t misunderstand.

Rude!

________________________

Virgil watched as the little prince grinned up at his brother and felt his heart melt a little.

So. Cute.

But the cuteness didn’t fully eliminate the creeping suspicion that Remus was up to something.

Virgil hated it.

He knew that Remus cared about his brother, he knew he knew this, but being the literal embodiment of anxiety made him think about every possible outcome, almost to a fault.

So the emo took a deep breath, focusing on the bean.

He had to admit, Roman being so clingy with Remus kind of made him jealous, especially with Remus grinning with contentedness. Maybe that was the ‘Dark Side’ overprotectiveness shining through.

Yeah, probably.

_________________________

Roman laughed loudly as he was scooped up and tickled by his brother, who was grinning happily.

Part one of his plan: success!

_________________________

Patton watched the twins (well, the brothers) grinning and laughing and smiled softly.

That’s adorable!

He wished he had a camera, this would look great in the family photo album.

As you can see, Patton often tried to ignore the bad in life in favor of the good.

The moral side then turned to Logan, who was also watching the creative sides.

“Brownie?”

Logan blinked, looking a bit disoriented.

“What?”

“Would you like a brownie?”

Paton smiled brightly.

“Are… are you serious?” Logan looked shocked.

Patton swallowed.

His smile wavered.

“Yeah! I was going to give them to Roman, but since he’s so young now, I don’t want him to damage his teeth. So…” he looked at the logical side questioningly, “Want one?”

_________________________

Logan was slightly annoyed.

A brownie?

A… brownie?!

This was the side who had pressed skip, the side who was one of the main factors of Roman’s regression.

But, Logan reasoned, he knew that Patton hadn’t meant to be a factor, and that he had tried to comfort Roman with his (to the princely side at least) meager ‘We love you.’

With the skip though… Logan knew he was overwhelmed, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

But… Patton was trying.

In truth, Logan didn’t want to forgive Patton, especially not so soon after the whole ‘event’.

But, perhaps the brownie would be good. Eating chocolate has been shown to increase levels of the neurotransmitter serotonin, which helps reduce the stress that leads to anxiety, which would definitely be helpful for him and the other sides in this situation.

Logan sighed but accepted.

“Sure.”

________________________

Remus‘s insides were screaming with joy. His baby bro wanted him to stay!

The little crown on the prince’s head sat slightly askew, causing it to cover Roman’s eyes.

Remus pushed the paper coronet away, then ruffled his brother’s dark brown curls.

Despite the moral side being in his room, the smol one’s love washed away most of the bad feelings.

The precious little prince.

________________________

Roman was glad that stage one of his mission had went well, but there were other sad big people too! And sad=bad.

The small royal narrowed his eyes and gazed around the room, before his line of sight landed on a Virgil who was anxiously chewing his thumbnail.

Next target spotted.

And so phase two of his plan began.

_________________________

Virgil saw the little bean staring at him.

Why was he staring at him?

Did he do something wrong?

Had he upset the prince in some way?

Did Roman hate him?!

His worry dissipated as the petite prince’s grin widened and he tugged at Remus’s sleeve, pointing at the anxious side.

“VeeVee!”

You know what, battling that dragon was so worth it.

So frickin’ worth it.

_________________________

Logan looked back to the small royal, seeing the adorable transfer of Roman from one side’s arms to the others.

He gave a subtle smile before returning to his conversation with Patton.

Everything was going to be fine.

Hopefully.

_________________________

Thanks for reading this chapter of the Petite Prince!

This chapter could alternatively be called ‘he’s baby. Literally.’

Any feedback would be great, so don’t be afraid to give constructive criticism.

Thanks again!

#sanders sides #thomas sanders sides #tss #the petite prince #baby roman #roman sanders #ts roman #remus sanders #ts remus #virgil sanders #ts virgil #logan sanders #ts logan #patton sanders #ts patton #how do you people think janus should be introduced?#just wondering

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retrauxpunk · 5 years ago

Text

sv 6.04

spoiler-filled recap post under the cut

WHAT THE FUCK

i swear every single episode is gonna have me feeling like that because IT’S SO INTENSE i think i’ve forgotten how intense this show is because it’s prior to the release of s6 it’s been 2 years since i watched new episodes? and so i just know the storylines quite well and am familiar with everything?

but jesus christ!!

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

okay let’s start at the beginning:

FUCK ethan!!

WHAT THE FUCK

I had the vague inkling of a feeling that bringing on ethan would be the same as bringing on the carver, russ hanneman, jack barker, etc. in that it would seem to be good at first and then it would magnificently blow up AND THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED WHAT THE FUCK

there were so many intertwined storylines in this episode? i feel like there were more than usual? there was: richard and his conflict with ethan; gavin’s book thing; monica’s misadventures with feminism; gilfoyle’s budding friendship with john stafford (I STAN); jared’s story with his parents and gwart

THERE WAS SO MUCH.

last episode my fingers couldn’t keep up with my thoughts because it was such an amazing uplifting kickass episode, but this time i just feel, i dunno, kind of clogged with feelings/thoughts because there was a lot that happened in this episode and it was................ MOSTLY SAD????? mostly unpleasant?????? like it was a great episode but all the things that happened to the characters were like ... real shitty

HOLY SHIT the guy who plays ethan is SO GOOD at playing the role of the emotionally manipulative jackass prick who mistreats you and then acts like you’re the shitty one if you don’t ‘play along with the fun’ and so on like HOLY MOTHERFUCKER those types of people are the fucking worst and god i wish richard’s punch hand gotten him in the mouth instead or something (more on that later)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he was so terrible to richard! it fucking hurt! i was with dinesh! i watched richard’s balls getting kicked and my balls hurt in solidarity!! fuck!!

????!

richard what are you doing

it was, no lie, a little nice and fuzzy and heartwarming to see dinesh like sticking up for richard and trying to help him

even if it’s through the ‘dumbest thing i’ve ever seen’, that alpha male video.

WHAT WAS THAT

THAT WAS LEGIT like something out of IT’S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PHILADELPHIA what the FUCK

i don’t object to it being in the show because, y’know, it’s within the bounds of the absurdities of the show and so on, but

WHAT! that had the exact same energy as the fight milk ads!!

i really like that richard’s initial reaction was ‘this is the dumbest thing i’ve ever seen’. what a shame he succumbed to it!!! ........but at least it wasn’t something worse that he succumbed too i guess???

POOR RICHARD

this is one of those episodes where i am entirely on richard’s side and have no complaints about him, he didn’t do anything wrong

omg i just remembered when he caught ethan’s eye in the opening scene and waved him in because of ‘dumb social shit’ (#relatable) ................WAS THAT BECAUSE HE WAS REFLEXIVELY REGRESSING TO HIS DOWNTRODDEN WAYS from when he was ethan’s report and was consistently having to defer to him and put up with his shit? and that’s why when ethan motions to like invite himself into richard’s office, that’s why richard just invites him in?

yeah that’s my opinion now

........

IT HURTS

IT HURTS WATCHING RICHARD GET KICKED AROUND BY ETHAN

WHAT THE FUCK DUDE

this is one of those times when richard’s like, trying to do a good/right thing and be nice and so on WHEN HE SHOULDN’T BE. like when he was ‘trying to respect’ erlich by refusing to hire jared patakian despite erlich giving him his blessing. and (to a lesser extent) when he went to have those chats with seth after gilfoyle stole the endframe login credentials, and when he gifted laurie some pied piper credits (where they credits? don’t remember the word)

UGH he was trying to be ~chill~ and not so uptight and so on BUT NO THIS IS NOT THE TIME RICHARD and no this is not what being a cool/nice person is! it is not putting up with this kind of shit!

i just felt so bad for him!!!

WHAT THE FUCK IS ETHAN’S PROBLEM

god what a cock

I’M SO GLAD RICHARD PUNCHED HIM IN THE FACE and honestly??? i wish the punch had fucking landed!! for once i’m sick of richard being an ineffectual klutz! i want him to try to kick ass and succeed!!! god!!

that’s what i want out of season 6, one (1) time when richard tries to do something physically badass like socking a deserving douchebag in the face and actually succeeds

can’t fucking believe he bought into dinesh’s dumbfuck alpha male video. UGH RICHARD

i mean at..........at least it makes him........feel better? idk

(in my personal hc richard manages to watch that fucking always sunny style video and not develop misogynistic tendencies as consequence because that would be lame if it happened)

I JUST HAD TO TAKE A BREAK FROM WRITING THIS RECAP BECAUSE IT WAS SUCH AN INTENSE EPISODE

6.3 was intense in the same way that like an adrenaline-fuelled ultimately victorious battle is intense, or like, idk, the lovechild of MDMA and acid???

6.4 is intense like the COMEDOWN. god

IT IS THE COMEDOWN, it’s the terrible fucking low that occurs in the wake of the soaring high of buying hooli!! fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!

okay so that’s the richard storyline covered

y’know i was suspicious when ethan wanted to move things onto hooliphones, i thought it was maybe some kind of thing to sabotage pied piper in some way? but now i see maybe it’s just a way to get himself a job. and the bullying of richard is a way to soothe his own fragile ego i guess? hmm

gilfoyle’s friendship with john stafford! I LOVE IT! i love that the guy from the underground pits of jack barker’s box plan has returned! and he announces each hooliphone the way he announced each box ... excellent callback. AND THEY PLAY CHESS! AND HE BEAT GILFOYLE EVERY SINGLE TIME! YES!!!

GILFOYLE WHY DID YOU DELETE HIS FRIEND REQUEST

YOU WERE GONNA ACCEPT IT

YOUR CURSOR WAS HOVERING

WHY THE FUCK

some kind of lame-as-fuck attempt to maintain an idea of power in the dynamic? viewing the vulnerability of accepting a friend request as somehow being weak/lame?? just upset because he lost so many chess games??

hope it’s the the last one becaues that’s the least lame/sad of the three i thinkkkk

also his fucking feed full of dinesh hate. what a loser lmao perfectly suited to dinesh

i want them to kiss

ummmmmmmm monica!! lmao i enjoyed how they made her a female character who is successful but not actually personally interested in being a feminist activist, because i think that’s a thing that’s pretty real/relatable. like, you can be a woman who believes in gender equality but who doesn’t actually do stuff to actively advocate for it, and i think that’s a lot of people, and honestly i don’t think i’m quite like monica (i wouldn’t say the things she said about foxhole HAHAHHA) but i relate to it! i’m not a very politically active person at all, my ~activism is limited to being generally educated on stuff and calling out/discussing shitty things if friends/colleagues say them. so i guess i felt seen? #guiltyfeminist

when monica went to the panel........... and then priyanka totally outshone her ........ i felt a little bad for monica but she was pawning off foxhole to priyanka entirely selfishly because she herself didn’t want to be involved and so i didn’t feel too bad for her :pp

good on priyanka! all that stuff she’s doing sounds awesome!

except the beginning where she referenced her ‘network of awesome women coders’ or something like that, i found that phrasing uhhhhhhh cringey. cliquey. didn’t like it, but that’s just my subjective feeling. also i suspect it was meant to be a little satirical of uberwokeness so fair :P

richard giving monica foxhole ‘for optics’ and then doing the handwavey ‘just make it work, for women’ ........ a brilliant sad-funny representation of extremely superficial and empty meaningless ‘feminism’

laurie lasering in on gwart because she’s also eating that vegetable in a weird way! nice.

OKAY JARED? JARED

FUCK

we see him set up in pied piper’s offices meaning he at least took up richard’s offer which is nice

his parents?

fuck ‘em

they deserve to rot, obviously

sociopaths

i............................... it was an upsetting scene, i’m not sure why it’s in the show............ perhaps to give rise to jared’s whole ‘i must have rejected them and rejected everyone else who’s been kind’ thing that he’s doing in a desperate bid to understand/make sense of his suffering ....... which gives rise to his thing about rejecting richard...

i guess maybe he’s doing that thing where he’s repeating past cycles of trauma/abandonment? that’s what’s (at least partially) driving his stubborn refusal to rejoin richard? is it that he (on some not-necessarily-conscious level) believes himself unworthy of happiness and self-sabotages? and all of that mixes with his fear of fucking up pied piper with his feelings (the way he did in 6.1) and that keeps him away from richard?

I DON’T KNOW IT’S COMPLICATED AND MAKES ME SAD

that thing he said about how he has to stay with gwart . .............. god this stupid entirely arbitrary rule he’s set for himself, it’s so fucking painful

ETHAN’S REPENTANCE WAS DUE TO THREAT FROM HOLDEN? WOW

good on you holden i guess!! .....?

i HATE the whole ‘jared threatening holden and emotionally abusing him into the perfect assistant for richard’ arc because that was painful and i feel like it was played for laughs but i didn’t find it funny or good at all

so in this case it was kinda vindicating to see holden no longer terrified of jared and kind of sassing him (’don’t you have somewhere to be’)

..............what was with the end of the cold open where richard’s like ‘holden i wanted water’??? or something? didn’t holden give him the water partway through ethan’s presentation? ugH

GWART FIRING JARED

FUCK YES! THANK YOU GWART

JARED TALKING ABOUT HOW HE’S FREE TO GO WITH RICHARD

HOLY FUCK

YEAH SO OF COURSE OUR BOY JARED WANTS TO BE WITH RICHARD and now that gwart (his temporarily chosen ‘leader’/person to be devoted to) has given him orders (and therefore permission) to fuck off, he CAN BE WITH RICHARD without feeling like he’s, i dunno, being disloyal.

HURRAH

so the episode ENDS on jared asserting that there is a space for him to be with richard? homg seems like 6.5 is gonna go HEAVY ON THE JARRICH again?????

HNNNG

this was a tense episode and i’m upset

like it was a decent episode, i didn’t think it was bad quality, i’m just sad

#rain watches sv s6 #sv s6 #sv s6 spoilers #silicon valley spoilers #silicon valley #sv squad #my sv text posts #precipitation

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bipolaireenivresse-blog · 6 years ago

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Spring And My Own Goddess Of Spring And Winter Flowers

It was the best day in my life. I had rented a nice black car and I was driving east, fast and easy, on secondary roads through the rolling plains and plateaus of Champagne and Lorraine. It was 3 May 2017. The sky was blue with scattered white cumuli that were appearing much bigger, higher and greyer at the horizon. Something huge was forming there. I was on my way to see Fishbach’s concert in the Saint-Donat church in Arlon, Belgium, as part of the Aralunaires festival. I was high, very high, higher than I had ever been before. Of course I was smoking weed from noon to dawn. But it was only peripheral adjustment and support. The engine of the highness was endogenous, in my brain. With the precocious arrival of spring I had kicked out depression and been climbing unquestioningly through hypomania: I was not working, I had sufficiently money left; I was in perfect conditions for experimenting and enjoying unconditional happiness, euphoria, excitation and hedonism — the shiny side of bipolar disorder, the golden trick, the lovely upgoing slope to nowhere but inner paradise — whatever may happen subsequently. It was 3 May 2017. I was on my way to see my music idol producing herself with her band in a church (a church!). I would pass through a terrible storm at the border between France and Belgium, arrive little time before the show, sit at the first row in the church, receive an incredible emotional hit and see a tunnel opening in the light and stroboscope landscape like a pathway to another universe; have a short chat with Fishbach after the concert (she would comment the design of my notebook and leave a nice note in it), drink a pint of beer and a big cup of coffee in a bar of the deserted city centre, circle ecstatically in my car in the urban ring roads feeling weird gravity shifts, finally take the way back home, after midnight; once in France, ∼30 km south to the border, I would meet the customs officers, a joint of weed lying, red and hot, in the ashtray close to my small reserve box, and bore them with an unstoppable and improvised speech — I am a writer, I just come back from a concert of Fishbach, do you know Fishbach? No? You should listen, it’s great, she inspires me a lot, look these are the nice merchandising they gave at the show, OK, OK, this side of the car, really you have never heard about her?… — until they let me go; I would shout my joy at the stars in the sky, get lost through the complicated net of roads before home, arrive after the sun had risen, barely sleep before preparing myself for the next show, at night, at La Cigale in Paris — Fishbach again, of course, why questioning? Two concerts in two days, I was just a groupie. It was 3 May 2017. It was the best day in my life. I was precisely on the edge between reason and insanity, hypomania and mania, at the cerebral orgasmic point before snaky mental maze. Under my umbrella, smoking, my back pressed against the outside walls of the Saint-Donat church, on the top of the hill of Arlon, amazed and overwhelmed, I was listening to Fishbach vocalizing before the concert and there was nothing else to live.

Was I then in love with Flora Fischbach and was my tracking of her a psycho behaviour? My friends were concerned with this issue and would let me know. What I will write further will address the second part of the question. Now, about l.o.v.e.: of course I was in love with her. Everybody was in love with her. Well, let’s say, every person attracted sexually by women in her audience was in love with her. I mean, she was, she is too much: delivering brilliant and daring pop music, singing extraordinarily — love her or hate her, there is no middle point on this subject —, beautiful, sexy, even ambiguous in gender and age, naturally classy, and above all hypnotic, magnetic, psychetic; on scene, supported by great musicians, she was, she is fucking something. I fell at first listening and sight, as many, many others.

But my passion for Fishbach was of course well beyond and apart from lust. The discovery of her debut album À Ta Merci in the first days of February 2017 gave me an electroshock. As I alluded previously, I was exiting a long, deep, and chaotic depressive phase and she was just the perfect extra kick I could expect. It was like being a young teenager living his first musical crush once again. With the slight difference that my Fishbach’s crush was several orders of magnitude more intense than the musical crushes I had experimented when I was actually a young teenager, in the late 80’s. Fishbach’s music was just a glittering synthesis of most that I could have liked so far in music draped in the peculiar big sound of « French touch »: the mainstream pop music of Daniel Balavoine or Mylène Farmer, the synth-pop of Kraftwerk or Depeche Mode, the rock of Electrelane, the electro-rock of Ladytron, the lettered songs of Françoise Hardy or Françoiz Breut, …, with, from place to place, irresistible spans reminiscent of Tame Impala or Vangelis’ Blade Runner themes and atmospheres.

Soon, listening to Fishbach’s music became an almost full-time, delighting occupation; she was a drug and she was better with drug. Obviously and corolarilly, there was a noticeable feedback loop between her and my mood level: the more I listened to her music the more I felt hypomaniac and vice versa. Last but not least, there was the song called « Mortel » and its two strangely diverging versions (one on the 2015 Fishbach EP, one on the À Ta Merci album). I was totally stunned: listening to this song was like feeling an harmless though harrowing arrow passing through all the nodes of my entire existence. I swear I watched hundreds of time the YouTube Vevo Dscvr live version of the song. The emotion provoked was indescribable and undecipherable.

I booked a ticket for her upcoming concert in La Cigale, Paris, 4 May 2017. But it was too far… When I discovered that she was actually about to perform her very big touring date in the same place 14 March, I went crazily impatient; I managed to buy, the day before the event, a black market ticket on the Internet. 14 March 2017 was a spring sunny and cool Tuesday. In the morning, in order to lower my excitation, I went running 20 km. I arrived at La Cigale very early in order to be able to place myself in the first or second row in the audience. I was 15. It was my first concert ever. I smoke only one joint and drank only one beer. After the show I was not the same person anymore. Some ravishing wasp come from outer space had bitten me, injecting in my body and soul a sweet and fatal venom. Her name was Flora and, with my poor erudition, I remembered that Flora was the goddess of something in some ancient mythology; I checked on the Internet: indeed, Flore or Flora was, in roman divinity, the goddess of flowers and spring. It was too much, too poetic: the reflection of my own renewal in music and emerging star. And, from then on, everything started to lovely burst.

As I told to the customs officers in the night of 3 May, in these times, I was effectively and vainly trying to write a « novel ». I intended to describe the dying of the light-like loss — or, actually, the refusal of loss — of past euphoria existing in bipolar disorder treatment and stabilisation. Nevertheless, after seeing Fishbach live for the first time, this literature direction split up into various and poorly coherent drafts as I more and more focused my writing energy in composing letters to Fishbach. And, yeah, in the end, I went totally psycho with that. Everything started around 15 of 16 March (i.e., no more than two days after the show in La Cigale): I felt an uninhibited, overwhelming, irresistible, almost vital need of telling her in writing what I had felted during the concert and since the discovery of her music — and acknowledging her. Surprisingly, I had found an email address at her name in a public page in Internet; it was obviously obsolete but I considered this way better than sending a post mail to her family in Charlevilles-Mézières in the northeastern corner of France. She would probably never read the email I had written but, who cared? Just the fact of sending the stuff was delivering me from a weight — yes, I am the boy who listened too many times to « Tous les cris les SOS » by Daniel Balavoine. Nevertheless, I started to dream about the possibility of meeting her and telling her about the mail. From 15 I was regressing to 14 or even 13. The possibility became probabilitywhen I decided to go with some friends to a concert of Cléa Vincent in La Gaîté Lyrique, Paris: the latter singer was kind of friend with Fishbach and Fishbach was not programmed anywhere on that day. It was 12 April and, at that date, my hypomania had enhanced exponentially and, in that night more precisely, my disinhibition was strengthened by a mix of alcohol, weed, and MDMA. Of course Fishbach was there, a few metres from me, in the background of the concert room; and of course, overcoming any fear of being ridiculous, I went straight to her, told her about the mail, « I would like you to read it », verifying the obsolescence of the abovementioned address, finally telling her my first name and surname at her demand. Believe me or not, living such a teenage dream when you are 40-years old — with the physical, psychological and chemical means allowed by time — is quite of a thing. It is totally, absolutely childish but when you are bipolar in a jumping, junkie hypomaniac phase it is the best shoot of heroin you can beg for — then, just add the right dose of romanticism looking at your heroine walking in beauty like the night just as in one of your preferred Suede songs and you are in paradise. From that moment, I started to write other emails to the same address, which from emotional reports of a bipolar fan in euphoria rapidly turned into more and more complex interpretations of the Fishbach’s song lyrics, and especially of the « Mortel » lyrics. Since I met her a few times after shows, I had clues that she was at least receiving my texts; but, strangely, maybe by fear, maybe because my reality was progressively colonised by hallucinations, I would prefer to leave a thick sheet of doubt on what I was in my inner me quite pretentiously dreaming the most — having her as my reader. During the first part of May, as I was sliding on a slippery slope with readings of quantum metaphysics mixed with foreseen theories about the control of technology and Internet over Humanity, my « letters » to Fishbach drowned into delusions: I was for example persuaded that « Mortel » had travelled in time through my consciousness (and of course from hers) between its first version release date (November 2015) and my discovery of Fishbach (February 2017) with consequences on my existence trajectory. It was still not that worrying: in a way, considering the frequently odd nature of Fishbach’s lyrics, this may have been considered as funny. I could have continued my role of freaky, half-crazy groupie: there was so many touring dates to come. For example, I had won tickets for a concert in the suburbs of Paris where both Fishbach and Cléa Vincent were programmed! It was 15 May. But, that day in the afternoon, I got my first psychotic paranoid crisis: I destroyed almost all my electronic devices at home, especially the Internet box that I smashed with a hammer and drowned in the toilets before washing it with burning water and squeezing it in the outside bin. This crisis left me exhausted and I did not went to the concert. I would never see Fishbach again during the 2017 year. I had opened a new territory in my psychosis: after sending her an heavy chain of intriguing playlists and images, I stopped this vain, one-way correspondence. What for writing when you can communicate through quantum telepathy? It was only the beginning of my relation with the virtual, computed part of Fishbach: I would deliver her from the sick program in her brain and we, as one, would save the world. I had some beautiful days waiting for me in the psychiatric hospital.

At the end, if I analyse my relation with Fishbach’s person, band and music, there is one important remaining idea: it is a question of faith. When, nowadays, absolutely sober and cautious with my possible hypomania trends, I look back at this special date of 3 May 2017, I confess I feel a kind of nostalgia. How could I feel different? That day I truly believed I was blessed by her. She was my own Flore, my own goddess of spring and flowers. I will never forget how, before losing control, during a few weeks of a sunny spring, I felt a strong convergence between my delighted mood rises and my Fishbach-related emotional events. I told previously about a feedback loop. Between hypomania and Fishbach, was there a dominating cause-to-effect way? Who knows? Maybe I just have to let myself go and believe in Fishbach. After all, even outside hypomania and without any drug, I still feel the same emotions and energy listening to her music: I am entranced by it/her. Oddly, yesterday, she was performing on a boat in Paris, a kind of VIP, quickly sold out event. On Twitter, I started joking with someone from her record label: even if it was sold out I could try to come swimming or parachuting. Maybe last year I would have been sufficiently insane to try something like that. However, whereas some miles away from me this boat was carrying her, I was running in a deep and dense forest, crossing stags and snakes, fascinated by the diffusion of vespertine lights through the deep green canopy, imagining the beloved beat of « Mortel » entwined in my heart pulses. Despite the extreme heat, I was sometimes shivering; there was something, someone in there, in the air, through the sky and towards the sinking sun. And I was softly riddled by random shots of life.

#fishbach

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artificialqueens · 7 years ago

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After the World Ends (Sashea/Biadore/Witney) - Veronica

A/N: AFTER THE WORLD ENDS, AKA PORN IN THE WOODS. HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the beautiful and talented @missdandee !! You know I love you when I agree to write something that involves Biadore. ;P I hope your birthday is amazing, my love!!!

Summary: Post-apocalypse lesbian AU featuring Sashea, Witney, and Biadore.

For clarity and to explain the pronoun choices: Sasha is DFAB genderqueer (they/them pronouns), Willam is a trans woman, and the rest of the cast is cis female.

Trigger warnings: some potentially transphobic discussion/language involving sexual awkwardness, a panic attack, guns/weapons, hunting a wild turkey, and discussion war, gay conversion therapy, and the downfall of America at the hands of the Trump Administration

(Also: Thank you SO MUCH to @spokywrites for being my beta savior, and to additional beta help from @wednesdayangeline and @ironrescue - was the lovely person to for include me in this celebration!)

2027 SOUTHERN APPALACHIA THE AREA FORMERLY KNOWN AS NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI

“Remember glitter nail polish?” Adore asked. She stopped and looked carefully to her left and right. Coast clear. She moved forward, clearing a path for Courtney to follow.

“That was the best!” Courtney sighed, a slight skip to her step. “Remember clean underwear?”

“Distantly, yeah,” Adore said, laughing. “Remember Ariana Grande?”

“God, I loved her so much. She’s probably dead now, huh?”

“Probably.”

“That’s a shame.” Courtney kicked a rock.

“Remember Christmas lights?” Adore asked.

Then before Courtney could open her mouth to reply, she elbowed her arm, silencing her as she drew back her bow and arrow. The ugly, feathery little fucker was close, and fat. If it wasn’t for the tree she’d have a clear shot. She waited, hoping he’d take a few more steps, so that she could really nail him. Just a tiny…bit…farther…Adore let the arrow spring free, and it pierced him right in the neck. Bullseye. She strode forward to finish the job, pulling the arrow out and twisting his neck with a crack.

Courtney trailed behind, wincing slightly. Almost two years of this, not to mention seeing her dad do it while they were still safe in the shelter - but she could never get used to the carnage. She examined one of the trees, saw some moss that might be useful, began to scrape it off with her pocketknife.

“Don’t worry Court, he lived a good life. And now he’ll provide us with some much needed sustenance.”

“Mmmhmm,” Courtney said, then glanced over her shoulder at Adore, pulling feathers off the disgusting creature by the handful. “Remember soy?”

Adore chuckled, “Now that, I don’t miss…”

***

“Hey,” Sasha said softly, and Shea turned around, a big smile lighting up her face.

“You’re finished already?!” Shea wrapped her arms around Sasha’s waist, pulling them to the floor.

“No fish today…again…”

Shea laughed gleefully. Only she could be delighted by the idea of Sasha’s repeated failure to procure any protein for them. “Baby. There’s never any fish. But it’s so fucking adorable the way you keep trying.”

Feigning offense, Sasha tossed their red hair and scoffed. “Excuse me, ma’am, I caught one…like a month ago, so…”

“That’s right, I’m sorry, you’re right. You’re amazing and perfect and the world’s greatest fisher…person…” Shea teased, pressing a kiss against Sasha’s throat.

Sasha giggled, exclaiming, “Exactly!” and running a hand down Shea’s arm, eyes falling closed as the warmth of her lips traveled down their neck to their collarbone.

Shea smiled, raked her nails up Sasha’s thighs, pushing them open so that she could crawl between them, hovering over them tauntingly.

“Shea…” A soft gasp left their lips as Shea’s hands trailed up and down their body, mouth pressed to their stomach, then lower…

“Tell me what you want…” Shea whispered, fingers toying with the fly on Sasha’s shorts, breath now hot on her thigh.

Sasha arched up. “Don’t stop…” they whispered, gazing at her, grey-blue eyes dreamy, eyelashes fluttering.

“Ugh,” came a voice from behind, and they both turned to see Willam, her face scrunched up in disgust. “You guys are the worst. The world’s ended, how can you be so goddamn happy? Stop being gross.” As she walked past them, she nudged Sasha with the toe of her boot for good measure.

Shea collapsed, burying her face in Sasha’s lap, sticking her middle finger in the air. “Get fucked, Belli,” Shea replied, voice muffled by Sasha’s thighs, which she proceeded to rub her cheeks against, savoring the softness of her girlfriend’s smooth skin.

Willam let out an aggrieved groan, collapsing onto her own sleeping mat. “By who?! You two whores only have eyes for each other, and Bianca…I mean I’m not saying she’s a TERF, but…you know. She’s not exactly open-minded. Especially now, when I look like…” Willam trailed off with a shrug.

Sasha propped themself up on their elbows and turned their head, somewhat sympathetic to Willam’s dilemma. It had been over four years since even the underground shitty hormones ran out. Six years since the good stuff. Willam was a tough bitch, but Sasha couldn’t imagine the emotional trauma of watching her body regress back to what it was pre-transition. In an act of pure solidarity, they’d procured about 10 years worth of razors for her back in Jackson - a small thing, but at least it was something. Even Bianca treated the razors like her first born child - no man nor razor left behind, no matter where they went. But regardless of the constant shaving and the attempt at eye makeup…Sasha could see why Willam felt the way she did. She looked different from how she used to. Different from how she felt inside.

Sasha held Shea tighter, stroking her hair, feeling both fortunate and guilty. What right did they have to be ‘so goddamn happy’ when the world had literally come to an end for so many - for people they loved, for millions of innocent lives? When there was no way to know when, or if, there would ever be peace again?

“I miss Alaska,” Willam muttered, more to herself than anyone else, punching her pillow down and sighing.

Sasha reached up and touched Willam’s hand. “We all do,” they said softly, but Willam slapped their hand away and started stomping off.

“Oh, shut the fuck up. I don’t need your pity, bitch-”

“That’s not what I-”

Shea sat up. “Don’t fucking call them a bitch-”

“Don’t tell me what to-”

The bickering was interrupted by Bianca running in breathlessly. “Hey! I need backup! There’s some shit going down in the eastern woods. Hurry!”

Without a word, all three girls jumped to attention, grabbing their weapons and following Bianca down the narrow passageway.

***

“What was that?” Adore hissed, and Courtney flattened herself against the tree, listening carefully. She’d clearly heard it too, based on the intense expression on her face, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Adore crept forward slowly, brandishing her gun, staying low to the ground as she approached the clearing, trying to shield her eyes to see the large hill where the noise had come from. Courtney was so close behind her that she could feel a strap from her heavy backpack dangling on her arm.

“WHO THE FUCK IS THERE!?” yelled a hoarse voice, and suddenly they were surrounded, as the hill looming on the other side of the narrow clearing turned into a fortress, covered in multiple armed soldiers. Their only protection the sparse trees and low shrubs at the edge of the forest.

“Fuck!” Adore should have known. Why hadn’t she stayed in the denser woods, where they would be covered, protected? Why had she taken this risk, just to make a campfire easier? Lazy, stupid, thoughtless-

“ANSWER! HANDS UP, WEAPONS DOWN! THIS IS NOT A MOTHERFUCKING GAME!”

“Wait a second…” Courtney said, face screwed up in a way that terrified Adore. Because it meant she was about to do something incredibly, insanely… “Bianca?!”

“WHO WANTS TO KNOW?!”

Courtney tossed her gun and backpack to the ground and held up her hands, stepping into the clearing.

“Courtney, what the fucking fuck!?” Adore cried.

“Bianca, it’s Courtney, from…from A.Y.S.O. soccer, in New Orleans!” she called, voice wavering only slightly. She realized too late how ridiculous it all sounded, and closed her eyes briefly. “Do you…do you remember me?” She raised her eyes up to the girl on the boulder, the one who was pointing a large assault weapon down at her. God, she fucking hoped she was right. But that voice. Those eyes. It had to be her.

“Bitch, I’ve known a lot of blondes over the years. You’re gonna have to be more fucking specific!” she leveled her gun.

Fuck fuck fuck, Adore thought, gritting her teeth. Her eyes flickered to the other girls - she counted four total, all partially obscured by rocks and two of them heavily backlit. If Courtney’s instincts were wrong here, they were good as dead.

Courtney took a tiny step forward and one of the girls popped out from behind a tree. She was tall and statuesque, wild honey-colored curls falling over her shoulders. Her weapon pointed directly at Courtney’s head as she began to speak again. “It was…we were like 9 or 10, I think. I…our jerseys were blue and when we had to choose a team name, this one kid suggested the Tigers and you called her a retard and you got in trouble.”

Adore could swear she heard a soft chuckle from the other side of the clearing. But the weapons stayed up, so Courtney kept talking, desperately trying to conjure up memories of this soccer team from a lifetime ago.

“Um…our…coach was named Steve. Your…cleats had purple laces and I thought they were really cool. Once I gave you a vegan cookie that my mom made and you said it tasted like dogshit.” Courtney swallowed as she racked her brain for more details, but came up blank. When none of the weapons lowered, she glanced back at Adore, an apologetic look on her face. We’re screwed, it said. Tears brimmed in her green eyes. “I really thought it was her,” she whispered.

After a long heated moment, Bianca put down her gun and beckoned her forward. “The coach’s name was Sam, you fucking idiot!” she called down, a smirk on her face causing familiar dimples to appear in her cheeks.

Sasha breathed out a sigh of relief as the pretty blonde covered her face with her hands. They were not in the mood for a bloodbath today. Shea sensed their anxiety dissipate, and slung an arm around their shoulders, kissing their forehead reassuringly and gesturing to Bianca that they’d stay on their side. You never know - these girls might not be alone after all.

Willam strolled over to Bianca, pointing out the scowling brunette still crouching next to Courtney in the bushes. “Who’s that bitch?” she asked.

“I’ll find out. Stay alert,” Bianca replied, watching Courtney bicker with the other girl. She narrowed her eyes, wondering how the fuck the bougie little pigtailed princess she remembered from years ago - the one who shrieked every time the soccer ball got too close to her, who chattered nonstop about rainbows and pop stars and bounced around on the balls of her feet like a fairy, turned into a toned, dirt-covered road warrior. Who, granted, surrendered after .5 seconds of a stand-off, so maybe she hadn’t changed much after all.

Willam stood beside Bianca, watching them closely, muttering, “Fuck…”

Bianca’s thoughts exactly. Even covered in grime, these girls were both stunning. Courtney in that obvious way, with a heart-shaped face, long wavy blonde hair, lean body and hooded green eyes. But there was something about the willowy brunette, with her pouty lips and big angry blue eyes, that intrigued Bianca.

“I’m calling the blonde,” Willam said suddenly, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“You’re calling her?” Bianca asked.

“Yeah, she’s fuckin’ hot. You can have the bratty one stomping her feet. You like a challenge,” Willam replied with a wink.

Bianca laughed. There was time to fight this battle later. If necessary.

“Adooore, come on, put down the gun, let’s go!” Courtney’s eyes shone with happiness, hopped up on adrenaline.

“I have a bad feeling about this. We’re outnumbered. They aren’t gonna shoot now, so let’s just go. We’ve got provisions, we don’t need them.”

“Please, Adore. At the very least, we’ll have a few hours of conversation with someone besides each other.”

“You just want to get laid.” Adore shook her head, rolling her eyes and looking up at the ledge, where Bianca was holding up her hands questioningly, wondering what was taking them so long.

“And you don’t?” Courtney raised an eyebrow.

Adore scoffed. “It’s not exactly my highest priority.”

“Yeah. I know. Probably because you don’t know any better.” Courtney turned away, picking up her backpack and gun, muttering, “Useless virgin, ruining everything…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” Courtney sang, turning back around, batting her lashes innocently, giving Adore her biggest puppy eyes.

“Ughhhh, fine. But you owe me.”

A big smile broke out on Courtney’s face as she bent down to pick up her backpack and began crossing the narrow field. “I know, bunny. But I’ve already offered and you always turn me down, so…”

“Oh my god, you’re sick. Please stop.”

Courtney giggled, already giddy with hope.

“Hey!” Bianca called as the girls climbed the hill. “Point those guns at the ground, ladies!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Courtney panted, flashing an infectious grin up at Bianca and reaching out her hand. Bianca pulled her up over the ledge.

Adore rolled her eyes, reluctantly accepting a hand from Willam.

“Jesus Christ, B! What are the odds?!” Courtney cried, throwing her arms around Bianca’s neck, clinging tightly like her life depended on it. Which, to be fair, it did a little.

“Slim to none,” Bianca replied with a laugh. “And how dare you forget coach Sam.”

“That was a real dick move you pulled,” Adore said, crossing her arms .

“Yeah, well, I’m a dick.” Bianca flashed her dimples. “Bianca. And you are…”

“That’s is my cousin, Adore,” Courtney said. “She’s cute, huh?”

“She’s alright. Interesting name,” Bianca said, smirking into her pretty blue eyes.

“Go fuck yourself,” Adore snapped.

“Adore, be nice, Jesus!” Courtney cried. “I’m sorry,” she said to Bianca. “She’s a little wound up.”

“It’s cool,” Bianca said, eyes still locked with Adore’s. “I’m not afraid of her.” Her arm tightened around Courtney’s waist and she kissed the blonde gently on the cheek, ignoring Willam glaring over her shoulder. “So what have you been up to since A.Y.S.O?”

“Oh, you know, just like…travel, leisure, hiding in bunkers, living in the woods, general merriment…the usual.” Courtney fluttered her lashes. “You?”

“Spent a few years in one of Pence’s ‘Pray the Gay Away’ camps for wayward youth. That’s where I met these lovely people. This is Willam, by the way.”

Courtney turned to Willam, “Oh god, that sounds awful. Hi…”

“It wasn’t so bad,” Willam replied, lifting one eyebrow flirtatiously. “The orgies didn’t suck.”

Courtney giggled, a dazzling smile spreading across her face as her green eyes swept up and down Willam’s body. “Sorry I missed that, then.”

Willam smirked back at her, holding her gaze as Shea and Sasha walked up to join them. “That makes two of us…”

After a moment, something dawned on Courtney and she looked around the group. “Um…okay this might be a weird question, but…how the hell do you all look so clean? I am suddenly really aware of how filthy I am.”

“Filthy…” Willam echoed with a sassy wink.

Bianca smiled. “There’s a creek in the back. You want me to show you?”

“Fuck, yes! Can we wash our clothes there too?”

“Sure. Actually, Willam is the laundry expert. She may even have some clean things for you to borrow in the meantime.”

Courtney’s mouth dropped open in delight. “I was literally fantasizing earlier about clean underwear, holy shit…Adore! Did you hear that?!”

“Yeah, I heard. Can you chill please?” Adore shook her head.

“No, I will not, this is the best thing that’s happened since we found that burned out 7-11 last year!” Courtney wrapped her arms around Adore’s shoulders. “Smile, bunnyface.”

Bianca turned to Sasha and cleared her throat. “Do you mind taking over as lookout while Willam and I take our…uh…guests, to the creek?”

“Sure,” Sasha agreed.

“This way, ladies,” Bianca said, gesturing for Courtney and Adore to follow her.

“So…you guys have just been wandering in the wilderness, huh?” Willam asked. “That sounds thrilling.”

“Yeah, but Adore’s no fun,” Courtney said, and affected a high-pitched voice, saying, “Courtney, get away, we’re related.”

“We are related, you perv,” Adore said.

Courtney rolled her eyes. “I know, dude, but like, we are living in desperate times here. Sometimes you just wanna fuck something that’s not your own hand.”

“You’re being really a lot right now,” Adore said.

“Well did you hear the news? Clean water! I think this calls for a song!” Courtney said, and started to skip. “How did that one go, that my mom loved? Leeeeet the river run! Let all the dreeeeamers wake the naaaation! Coooooome, the New Jeruuuusaleeem!”

“Jesus. I don’t know whether I want to slap her or fuck her,” Willam muttered, hoisting her gun over her shoulder. Bianca laughed.

Courtney tossed a sultry look over her shoulder, fluttering her lashes. “Who said you have to choose? We’re coming to the edge, running on the water, coming through the fog-”

Adore rolled her eyes. “Sorry about her. She’ll calm down after an hour or so.”

Willam laughed. “Oh, I hope not!”

***

“So here are some things you guys can wear for now, while I’m washing your stuff…” Willam dumped a pile of spare clothes by the creek. “They aren’t very glamorous, but I’m sure you’ll make it work.”

“Thanks,” Courtney said, peeling off her top, feet already plunged into the cool, refreshing water. “Hey Adore, why don’t you show Bianca what you caught this morning?

“What? No!” Adore crossed her arms, emerging from behind a tree, wrapped in a blanket, her clothes in her arms. Courtney rolled her eyes at her cousin’s prudishness.

“Yes! They’re being really nice to us, we should share.” She undid her shorts and wriggled out of them, then stood for a moment in her bra and panties, looking at Willam. “Undergarments, too?” she asked coyly.

“Whatever you want me to get clean,” Willam replied, eyes glued to her body.

Courtney turned around, pulling her hair on top of her head, asking, “Help?”

Willam smirked, unhooking her bra for her, fingers lingering on her skin for a moment, before murmuring softly in her ear, “Need help with the panties, too?”

Courtney smiled, sliding her underwear slowly down her hips, making sure to put on a show as she bent down to pick them up. “Here you go. Thanks.”

“Mmm, dirty underpants. My favorite.” Willam gathered the clothes with Adore’s as Courtney waded into the water, turning around again to make sure her tits were on full display as she floated backwards, closing her eyes happily.

“Water’s nice, huh Court?” Bianca asked. She glanced over as at Adore, who was still standing on the shore, arms crossed.

“It’s perfect!” the blonde sang, then, “Adore, seriously, show her. Unless you want to show her later, alone…”

“Courtney…” Adore growled.

“Adore…” Courtney mocked.

Adore groaned, unzipping her backpack in frustration. “Fine!”

“I mean, we don’t have much,” Courtney explained, “But Adore is a really good hunter, and she caught a turkey this morning. We were looking for somewhere to roast him, so-”

“Holy shit, seriously? It’s been ages since we had meat. That’s awesome. Good going…what’s your name again?” Bianca’s dark eyes sparkled.

Adore grit her teeth as the other girls laughed, barely paying attention to their conversation, just fuming at Bianca and her smug face, her stupid dimples. And Courtney flirting up a storm, happy as a lark, tits still out for all the world to see.

“Adore, what are you waiting for? Drop the towel and get in! The water is amaaaazing!”

Bianca put a hand on Adore’s shoulder. “I’ll give you guys some privacy. Why don’t you come find me when you’re out and dressed and we can roast up your little friend?”

“Bianca, you’re not coming in with us?” Courtney pouted, batting her lashes.

“We don’t usually go in more than one at a time. Safety thing. Gotta always be ready for defense. Willam’s just down there, in shouting distance, if you need anything.”

“Alright, we’ll miss you…Right, Adore?”

“Will you stop?” Adore sighed.

Bianca laughed. “Don’t worry, Adore, I know she’s full of shit. See you later.”

Once she was gone, and with Willam safely downriver, Adore finally began to remove her clothes, wading into the water after Courtney.

“Well,” Courtney said, “I hope you’re happy. I mean, she’s totally your type.”

“Courtney, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Baby, come on. I saw those pictures you used to keep on your phone, in the before time, when we had phones.” Courtney sank down into the water, eyes dancing with glee. “You were all about tits and ass.”

Adore scowled at her, trying not to laugh.

“Don’t give me that look. And don’t tell me you haven’t noticed,” Courtney giggled, miming generous tits with her hands. Adore lunged at her in the water, dunking her, causing her to shriek with laughter.

***

“Thanks for the clothes. What do you think?”

Willam looked up from the boulders, where she was spreading out the girls’ clothing to dry, weighing them down with stones, to see Courtney, dressed in the loaner clothes. An oversized tank top, no bra, tied at the waist, and some ratty old cargo shorts that were falling off her slender hips. Her blonde hair framed her face in wet, wavy locks. Willam grinned. “Not bad. Do you feel…fresh?”

“As a daisy.”

Willam nodded as Courtney walked over to her, sliding her arms around her shoulders.

“So…not to be crude or anything, but…you’re super hot, and it’s been a really long time, and I’d like to fuck you. Cool?”

Willam gripped her waist, fingers digging into the soft skin. “Well, I don’t know, all this romance, I’m overcome…”

Courtney narrowed her green eyes, launching herself at the taller girl, crashing their lips together in a hungry, desperate kiss, pulling her to the ground, climbing into her lap as she quickly removed her top. Managing to maintain an air of both dominance and utter neediness, clawing desperately at her clothes as their tongues tangled together. Courtney had a deep, primal craving to feel her skin - the beating heart of another human pressed up against hers.

For a few brief moments, Willam was so wrapped up in lust, in the perfect senseless feeling of being wanted, that she forgot to be self-conscious. When Courtney ripped off her shirt and tugged at her bra, she forgot to care that her tits we no longer full and perky – not like they used to be. Her mind was blank of everything except Courtney’s hands, her tongue, the grinding in her lap, hands pulling at the fly of her shorts.

“Wait!” she finally broke the spell, breathless.

Courtney looked up, cheeks flushed, pupils blown out. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not…I mean…I…” Willam panicked, searching for the right words. “How long is a really long time?” she finally asked. Deflection. That was safe.

Courtney gulped. “Um…why do you…?”

“I just…maybe we should slow down a little?” Willam said.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Courtney asked.

Willam laughed, leaning forward to kiss her neck, sucking gently on her pulse point until she heard a breathy whimper.

“Maybe I want to be in charge…” She trailed her fingers down Courtney’s collarbone, then began to toy gently with the stiff nub of her nipple.

Courtney’s heart beat wildly, hips rolling, arching against Willam as sparks raced through her body. She felt weak and dizzy, offering no resistance as Willam laid her down on her back and began to trail wet, warm kisses down her torso. A tongue circled her nipples, hands slid her shorts off without even bothering to open them. Willam’s tangled curls spilled over her shoulders, brushing against Courtney’s sensitive skin as a hot mouth pressed against her inner thigh.

She flung a leg over Willam’s shoulder, desperate for more, her voice a whine as she breathed, “Please…please…”

Willam hovered over her with a devious gleam in her eyes, slowly licking her lips, causing the anticipation to build painfully in Courtney’s belly. Her fingers skated lightly over Courtney’s wet skin as the blonde buried her hands deep into her hair. When she finally lowered her head, let her tongue make contact with the girl’s swollen clit, her head was yanked forward. The bold impatience made Willam chuckle and as a reward, she sucked on her, causing Courtney to moan, grinding against her tongue. As she continued to work Courtney into a frenzy, thighs pressed to her ears drowned out the increasingly urgent sounds of her moaning.

“Oh god…” Courtney remembered having been sexually active once, enthusiastically so. But this…this was different. She felt cosmically alive, the cells of her body vibrating in tune with the stars and yet rooted in the earth, her back pressed to the rocks, heels digging into Willam’s back, the warmth of her mouth, the softness of her hands, the surprising tenderness of her touch, all of it wrapping Courtney in a cloud of desire for more. She arched up again as Willam made her way up her torso again, finding her lips. She plunged a tongue onto Willam’s mouth, wanting to taste what she’d tasted, enjoying the weight of her body pressing down.

Willam explored Courtney’s mouth with her tongue, hands wandering over her body. She had a brief flash of guilt, remembering Alaska, how it had never been like this with her. But that was their agreement, so to speak. They’d been best friends. Sisters. They knew, deep down, that if they weren’t trapped together in this godforsaken war-torn hellscape, that they wouldn’t have been together, not like that. But that was okay. It still meant something. It was still good to have someone; someone who cared, who made her laugh until her sides hurt, someone who could get her off in a pinch – if that’s what the moment called for. But now, looking at Courtney, panting, whimpering, Willam felt wanted in way that she hadn’t for the longest time.

“You’re so beautiful,” Courtney said, arching against her, hands gripping her ass.

Beautiful? Willam couldn’t help chuckling. She didn’t feel beautiful. The only thing she felt was terrified as nimble fingers began to open her fly.

“What’s the matter?” Courtney asked, eyes wide. Willam had pushed her hands away without even realizing it.

“Uh, I…” Willam rolled off of her, breathing hard. “I’m sorry.”

Courtney sat up, cleared her throat. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just…you know I’m trans, right? Like, I mean I think it’s pretty obvious, but-”

“I didn’t really-”

“Don’t bullshit me here, you’re making it worse.”

“Okay, yeah. I assumed so.”

Willam nodded. “Right. So. I don’t look like you, down there.”

“So?”

“Well…is that okay with you? I mean it sort of makes scissoring a distant fantasy,” Willam said, forcing a laugh.

Courtney put a hand on her face, kissed her cheek softly.

“I really like you, Willam. I really…I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but…god, I want you.”

Willam swallowed. She looked into Courtney’s eyes, nodding slightly, and moved her hands to her shorts, hands shaking. Courtney caressed the side of her face, kissing her temple, soothing her frayed nerves, moving one hand to help Willam slide her shorts down her legs.

After another soft kiss, Courtney swung a leg over, straddling Willam, hands on her shoulders, leaning forward. She began rolling her hips, slowly, bending down to tangle their tongues together. Willam threaded her hands into Courtney’s hair, pushing the wet strands away from her face. She could feel herself getting hard against the other girl, and when Courtney broke the kiss, moving down her neck and chest, hooking two fingers into her panties, she looked up at Willam, waiting for confirmation.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.” Willam lay back, shutting her eyes, as Courtney slid her underwear slowly down her legs, and then felt soft, delicate hands caressing her thighs, a gentle kiss placed just inside her knee. Hands slid up, holding her hips now. She could feel hot breath against her. She opened her eyes.

“Hey,” Courtney said, with a soft smile.

“Hi,” Willam replied shyly.

“You’re beautiful.”

Willam’s heart began to beat faster as Courtney began to trail her fingers over her, kissing her, licking her. Tasting her. She arched up, digging her fingers into Courtney’s shoulders. This wasn’t just oral sex. Courtney wasn’t just sucking her, trying to make her come. She was discovering her. And somehow, it made Willam’s anxiety fade away. It made her feel, maybe more than ever before, like a woman, the way this part of her, this part she’d always been so disconnected from, was being handled, cradled, treasured.

Courtney swirled her tongue around her, hummed against her, nuzzled her face into her skin. She stirred something so deep, so primal, that Willam’s instincts took over and she forgot to feel anything but pure, ecstatic lust. Willam reached down and gripped Courtney’s face, dragging her into a kiss, crushing their lips together, kissing her over and over. Courtney’s thighs squeezed Willam’s hips, surprisingly strong, a smile on her face as she arched forward.

Willam wrapped her arms around Courtney’s waist, whispering in her ear. “I want you. Can we…?”

“Yes, yes!” Courtney’s body was trembling in anticipation as she raised up onto her knees, guiding Willam inside, inhaling sharply. Once she was sitting down firmly, she leaned forward, tits brushing against Willam’s, hips rocking slowly as she adjusted to the fullness inside of her, trying to find the right angle.

Digging her nails into her palms to control herself, Willam choked out, “You good?” She didn’t want to move too quickly, but fuck. Courtney was so hot and wet, so perfectly soft. Willam felt possessed, feeling an urge to flip her over and jackhammer away. This need was the bane of her fucking existence.

As if reading Willam’s mind, Courtney began to roll her hips faster, her whimpers getting louder as she raked her nails against Willam’s skin.

“Oh, god,” she moaned, throwing her head back.

Willam thrust up into her, lips pressed against her sweaty neck. She slid her hands up, thumbs rubbing against her nipples, earning a rapturous cry.

“Harder, please…”

“Fuck yeah,” Willam giggled, rolling her over, pushing one of her legs back and pumping harder, her only guide Courtney’s desperate cries for more, the nails in her back.

Courtney gripped her ass, her only anchor to the physical world, as orgasms ripped through her body, spasms curling her toes, over and over. She gasped for air as if she’d been drowning, hips still twitching, pulsing, and then she felt Willam come, the warmth a surprise.

They lay together for a few moments, Willam breathing into the crook of Courtney’s neck, Courtney’s hands resting on the small of Willam’s back, before Willam lifted her head to look into Courtney’s eyes, giving her a wicked smirk.

“You’re gonna need another dip in the water. Look at you…” She began to pull leaves from Courtney’s hair.

Courtney giggled. “I don’t care. That was amazing. God, you are so…” She pressed her lips against Willam’s, kissing her tenderly. “And I honestly don’t know what you were worried about. I’ve been fucked by a strap-on, and this was a million times better.”

Willam chuckled. “Uh…thanks, I think?”

“Was that offensive?”

“Probably, but I don’t really care, because you’re too goddamn cute.” Willam pinched her thigh, easing out and resting a head on her shoulder.

“I do have a question…promise me you won’t think I’m like…a total moron.”

“I can’t promise that,” Willam replied.

“Right.” Courtney sighed. “Um…like…do I need to be worried, about…you know…I mean…”

“I’m pretty sure I’m clean, and you are a moron. You ask this question BEFORE you fuck someone, genius.” Willam grinned.

“No. I mean. Good. And right. But…uh…I mean, like…what about pregnancy?”

“I can’t get pregnant,” Willam said.

“Yeah, thanks.” Courtney rolled her eyes. “I’m serious.”

Willam thought for a minute. “Shit.”

“Right.”

“I mean, safe sex used to be kind of a given, but then we ran out of condoms…”

“Right.” Courtney could feel her heart start to hammer in her chest.

“I was on HRT for a good five years, so probably not. I mean, that stuff supposedly has long-lasting effects, even though nothing is…”

“Okay. Okay, that’s…”

“Look, I wouldn’t worry. I’m sorry, I just, I wasn’t thinking about-”

“No, I know, me neither. I was sort of caught up in the moment, and you’re…I mean you’re a woman. I didn’t…” She reached for her shirt, trying to breathe, slipping it on slowly.

“It would be a cute baby,” Willam offered cheerfully.

Courtney buried her face in her hands. “Oh god, oh…” She took a shaky breath.

“I’m kidding. I’m sorry. What…what can I do?”

“Nothing, I’m just…um…having a little…a little trouble breathing.”

***

Shea gazed out over the treeline, shielding her eyes from the harsh afternoon sun. She heard a small sigh and turned around, hands on her hips.

“You’re obsessing.”

“I’m not,” Sasha countered immediately.

“You are. I can tell.”

“No. I’m not. I’m just…thinking.”

“Obsessing.”

Sasha sighed. “Semantics, Shea. You say obsessing, I say…thinking. Pontificating…”

“About?” Shea asked, hands circling Sasha’s slim waist, lips grazing their ear.

“It’s gonna annoy you.”

Shea kissed Sasha’s pulse point, running a hand up their arm.

“I’m used to you annoying me.”

Sasha shivered, felt themself melt against Shea’s gentle touch, her plush lips. “It’s…it’s about what Willam said…”

“That bullshit about how we shouldn’t be happy?”

“…Maybe?”

Shea sighed.

“I warned you,” Sasha said softly.

“You think this is my ideal life? Let me tell you something…I’m not a fucking country girl. Okay? This is not what I imagined for myself when I was a child daydreaming about my goddamn future. But here we are. So…guess what? I’m clinging to every shred of fucking happiness that we can wring out of every day, alright? Because we have no idea how long it’ll last. So…tell me exactly what’s wrong with that?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that…” Sasha admitted.

“No. And in fact, that might be the only way that our lives can have any meaning at all. Is to not give up. To have some fucking dignity, right now, today.”

“But what about the resistance? We left-”

“There’s no more resistance, Sasha! Okay? You think I’d have left my brother, and my home, and everyone, if there was something left to fight for? Something to fight against? The only thing back there right now, is ashes. And we were lucky, you know? Some cities got nuked. So…yeah, maybe someday the resistance will rise up again but for now, staying alive is our resistance mission.”

“How will we know? When it’s time to ‘rise up again’?”

“Word will spread. It always does. Word got around before cell phones and the post office and it will get around again. Trust me. So we’ve gotta stay strong and we’ve gotta stay sane, and we’ve gotta…enjoy the moments we can, while we can. But…babe…” Shea took Sasha’s face in her hands, eyes pleading. “I am begging you…”

“Yes?” Sasha asked softly.

“Don’t leave me.”

Sasha smiled. “Shea, I’m not going anywhere, why would you think-”

“No. I mean.” Shea closed her eyes briefly and then began speaking again. “In your mind. Don’t waste the time we have worrying about this stuff. Please.”

Sasha touched Shea’s lips with their fingers, tracing her mouth, listening to her heart beating. “I’ll do my best.”

“And don’t worry about Willam. Okay? Willam is a fucking survivor. She’s probably having a threesome with those new girls at this very moment.”

Sasha laughed. “I certainly hope so.”

“Oh you do, do you?” Shea responded cheekily, raising her eyebrow.

“Well, you know, I mean…for Willam’s sake. She deserves it!” Sasha said, batting their eyelashes innocently.

“Right, right…for Willam.” Shea pulled Sasha into her lap. “Nothing to do with your filthy mind, imagining some kind of sexy bathtime action with those girls.”

“Wha…?” Sasha laughed, giggling as Shea peppered their neck with kisses. “I’m not imagining anything! You brought it up…”

“Yeah, and I know you. I’ve seen your exes. You’d love to watch those pretty little Barbie-looking girls frolicking in the water. Wouldn’t you?” Shea challenged.

“Omigod…” Sasha pushed Shea onto the ground, pinning her shoulders down and climbing on top of her. “Well, you’re right about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Sasha bent down, placing a soft, teasing kiss against Shea’s plush mouth, then whispered, “I love pretty girls…” They kissed her again, harder this time, slipping a hand under her top. “Only the prettiest do it for me…”

“We’re supposed to be on lookout duty…” Shea smirked up at them.

“Oh, I know,” Sasha replied. “This is incredibly negligent.”

“Exactly. And if you think you can get out of trouble by buttering me up with flattery and - oh!” Shea dug her nails into Sasha’s shoulders, the pressure of their hips holding her down, feathery light touches sending shivers down her spine.

“Not working, huh?” Sasha asked, lips brushing against her pulse point. “What a shame…”

“Not in the slightest,” Shea panted hoarsely, shutting her eyes, arching upward. “But keep going, I could maybe…come around…”

***

Bianca assessed the slim harvest they’d reaped from the garden that morning, sighing as she carefully removed the heads from the carrots, glancing over at Adore by the campfire.

“Just so you know, you totally saved us today. We don’t have much else to eat, unfortunately. I know you’re not super excited that Courtney’s making you share, but we’re all gonna be very fucking grateful, so…thanks.”

Adore shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Eh, I can catch another one. It was more the principle of sharing that I was opposed to.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, Courtney was being so…like…I dunno. Weak.”

Bianca laughed. “She did immediately surrender. Not much of a soldier.”

“You’d be surprised, actually.”

“Oh yeah?”

“We’ve had a few stand-offs. She doesn’t love to kill, but she can do it.” Adore poked the turkey, watching the sparks arc into the air.

“Good to know.”

After a few moments of silence, Adore cleared her throat. “Um…so…”

“Yes?”

She took a deep breath, looking up at Bianca. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but…what was that camp really like? I assume the orgy comment was bullshit.”

“Uh, yeah. Well. It was kind of like…2 parts prison, 3 parts basic training, with a healthy portion of experimental mental hospital. Pretty hellish, basically. But we got off easy. The boys had it a lot worse, from what we’ve heard.”

“How old were you?” Adore asked.

“Eighteen.”

“I’m so sorry.” Adore shook her head.

Bianca shrugged, expression still nonchalant. “Yeah, well. It is what it is. I take it you guys slipped under the radar?”

“Not Courtney. She got taken in for questioning. Unlawful internet activity. But apparently there’s a loophole in the system where if you blow the guy doing your assessment, they deem you straight enough to pass inspection.”

Bianca laughed. “I did not know about that loophole. I still would have failed but…”

“Yeah, me too,” Adore smirked. “But yeah, I wasn’t even out yet, at the time. I mean I knew, I guess…but I was too scared to say anything. The only person I told was Courtney. And she told me to keep my mouth shut.”

“Smart.”

“It’s so weird, though. I have an aunt who’s gay. Was, gay. And I remember going to her wedding. I must have been like 11 years old. And it was like…this great day. Everyone was so happy. And then by the time I was 14, I was recognizing what these feelings were, and everyone is talking about a threat to public safety, and conversion therapy, and I was just like…what happened?”

“It was never about gay people,” Bianca said. “It was about control. They could divide and conquer with this shit. LGBT, Muslim, Black, Brown…that was the first wave. Then it was Asian, Native American, Welfare recipients, socialists, atheists, the elderly, disabled, Jews, feminists, Catholics, the last thing I heard was “deviant Christians” for people that were like, Episcopalians and Methodists… They did it so fast and to so many groups, that it effectively killed the resistance before it started. So now they have their country back. And from what I’ve heard, they’re even worse off there than we are here.”

Adore laughed. “I mean of course. A police state of only straight white evangelical Christians? Sounds fucking horrible.”

“I heard that there’s a place in Texas where you can get over the border. But that may just be a rumor.”

“We heard that too! That where we’re heading. It’s supposed to be in Big Bend National Park. The problem is, once you get past Louisiana, there’s like a thousand miles of wasteland to cross. So…I dunno. Courtney’s all gung ho about it but…”

“It’s a long shot.”

“Yeah.”

Bianca gazed at her for a few moments, a little sad to see such a defeated look in those beautiful eyes. “Well, you know. Long shot doesn’t mean impossible. Dare to dream, little one.”

Adore chuckled. “Little one? I’m not that much younger than you, you know.”

Bianca grinned, dimples deep in her cheeks. “I know. But a few years can be a lot. I mean when I came out, Obama was still president.”

“Wow. You are old. Tell me more about the before times, grandma.”

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously, did you ride a horse and buggy to the gay bars, back in the olden times?” Adore smirked at her.

“Actually, the gay bars all got shut down by the time I was 17, you little shithead.”

“Well…when I was 17, I was living in a bomb shelter with my aunt, uncle, and a cousin who wouldn’t stop humping my leg.”

“Boo freaking hoo!” Bianca barked. “At least your cousin is hot!”

“How come nobody here thinks that incest is a problem?!” Adore laughed.

“Welcome to the South,” Bianca said, shrugging. “That smells fucking delicious, by the way. I think we should just eat the whole thing ourselves, like lay into it caveman style; fuck everyone else.”

“Party.” Adore’s eyes glittered conspiratorially, locked with Bianca’s.

“B! Are you with Adore?!” Willam’s voice cut through the quiet woods, waking Bianca out of her daze, running through a crop of trees, up to the campfire.

“Yeah, what do you-”

“It’s Courtney, she’s kind of…uh…freaking out…” Willam shifted, eyes darting around, unsure of herself. She looked both scared and a little guilty.

“Where is she?!” Adore asked, jumping up and following Willam back through the woods, Bianca at her heels. They found Courtney by the creek, curled up on the ground, her head on her knees.

She looked up at Adore, face streaked with tears, choking out, “I-I’m s-sorry, I…”

Adore knelt down, putting her hands gently on her cousin’s cheeks, brushing away her tears. “Baby, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. Do you feel my hands?” Courtney nodded. “Good, that’s good. Now try to-”

Bianca came up behind her. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“She’s having a panic attack, back off,” Adore said.

“I will not. And that’s not how you deal with a panic attack in the woods.”

“Oh yeah? You have a better method?”

“Sure do!” Bianca replied, stepping closer.

Adore looked at Courtney, who was attempting another breath, gasping, and then back at Bianca. She nodded, crawling backwards to allow Bianca to look into Courtney’s eyes.

After a beat, Bianca grabbed Courtney by the shoulders and lifted her up, practically flinging her small body against a tree. Adore’s mouth opened in shock, and she lunged forward, but Willam held her back.

“Listen up, princess,” Bianca growled in Courtney’s face. “There’s a camp 30 miles south of here. A bunch of greasy, nasty motherfuckers. You know how much shit they’d trade for a hot piece of ass like you? And if you can’t fight, if you’re gonna crack under pressure like this, for whatever reason, and I don’t really give a shit what your reason is…well then all the nice cute memories of my purple shoelaces are sure as fuck not gonna save you. You follow me?”

Courtney nodded slowly.

“Good. Great. So I’m gonna let go, and you’re gonna take a few deep breaths, and then you’re gonna remember that while you’re here, you are a fucking soldier. And if you can’t be a soldier, then you’re a commodity. It’s that goddamn simple.” Bianca let go and Courtney gulped a few breaths. “There you go.”

Courtney wiped her eyes, then looked at Bianca again, saying simply. “Thanks.”

Adore wrenched her arms out of Willam’s grasp, finally free to go hug her cousin. “Are you okay, babe?”

Courtney shook her off lightly, aware that this moment was still a test. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She looked at Willam, who was hovering nearby uncertainly. “I should get something to drink. And a belt. Can we…?”

Willam smiled, relieved, and held out her hand. “Come on.”

Adore watched them walk towards the water in one direction, while Bianca turned and walked in the other, back to the campfire to check on the turkey. She waited a few moments and then stormed after the older girl.

“What the fuck was that?”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“You acted like it was her fault! Like she had a fucking choice about it! Newsflash, she doesn’t!”

“She forgot where she was.”

“So fucking what?!” This girl really was the worst. What a bitch. Adore glared at her, arms crossed, eyes blazing with anger.

Bianca tried to ignore her, messing with the campfire, but something about her expression made her deeply uncomfortable. “I didn’t…it’s not like I was going to follow through on the threat. She just…she can’t forget where we are. It’s not like it was before. It’s not safe here, to…to be in that head space, where you can just freak out with no consequences. If that happens during an ambush, she’d be dead. We need to remember that everything here is life or death. We can’t…we can’t get all cozy and start letting our feelings get in the way of survival. Or we’re all fucked.” Bianca swallowed, realized that she was rambling, and grew self-conscious. Those eyes, still staring at her, piercing her soul. “Whatever, it’s not like I have to justify myself to you,” she finished, looking away.

Adore swallowed. Because suddenly Bianca didn’t seem all that mean or powerful or scary. She just seemed like a girl. Afraid. Lost. Doing her best. Adore slowly walked forward, stood close enough to Bianca to realize, for the first time, that she was taller than the older girl. She continued to stare down at her for a few heated moments, until Bianca looked back up, eyes so dark they were nearly black meeting hers. Heart racing, Adore took a finger and tilted Bianca’s chin forward, meeting her lips in a soft, tentative kiss.

Bianca responded just as tentatively, hands wrapping loosely around Adore’s waist, lips pressing against hers, trying not to scare her off by moaning when the brunette’s hands tugged at her hair, then drifted down to wander over her body.

Feeling slightly bolder now, Bianca pulled her closer, tongue massaging hers softly as Adore’s hands groped for her tits. She slid her fingers lower, cupping her round ass, as Adore let out a breathy whimper, then quickly pulled away, catching her breath. “Um. We should…finish cooking.”

“Alright.”

Adore bit her lip, suppressing a smile. She looked up at Bianca again, a little chagrined, clearing her throat. “Well, the good news is, I’m now confirmed gay.”

Bianca chuckled. “Congratulations. And the bad news?”

“Who said there was bad news?”

***

“Feeling better?” Willam asked, tucking a strand of hair behind Courtney’s ear, fingers lingering gently on her cheek.

“Much. Thanks.” Courtney sighed. “Sorry for all that. I don’t know why I…it wasn’t about you. I mean not…you know.”

“I know.”

“Having a baby would be the worst thing. I mean we remember what it was like before, when things were good. Or at least…better. Freedom and choices and-and libraries. I mean remember dancing? Remember Taco Trucks? Remember Netflix, and like, Olympic figure skating?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“So, I can’t. Have a baby. Because I can’t look at a baby every day knowing that their future is this fucking shit. It would break my heart.”

“You’re not as dumb as you look,” Willam said, studying Courtney’s pretty face.

“Yeah…” Courtney agreed, sighing slightly. “Sometimes I wish I was, though. It would make all of this…a lot easier.”

A dry laugh escaped Willam’s throat. “Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth…” She reached over, gently linked her pinky with Courtney’s.

“I really am sorry-” Courtney started again.

Willam cut her off. “Shut up, okay? Just…shut up. We’re good.”

Courtney nodded, moving closer to Willam on the boulder, pressing their arms together. “Good.”

***

Courtney strolled over to the campfire, putting her arms around Adore from behind, face pressed to her back. “Hey, bunny.”

Adore turned around and hugged her fiercely. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Adore buried her face in Courtney’s hair, holding her tight, then whispered in her ear, “You were right, by the way.”

“About what?” Courtney murmured back.

Looking around to make sure no one was in earshot, Adore giggled and said, “Her tits. They are amazing.”

Courtney pulled back to look at Adore’s face, her mouth open in delight. “You slut!” She clapped her hands and dissolved into giggles, throwing her arms around Adore’s waist. “I’m so proud…”

Adore laughed. “Shut up…”

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