#whoever gets to the roof first starts smoking while waiting for the other to arrive
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
im afraid the adam-strahm interactions in my silly little au mostly involves them smoking together on the roof at night while looking at the moon
#they just sit there in complete silence and enjoy each other's company#even thought theyre usually about to punch the other#but yk the roof at night is a whole different vibe#whoever gets to the roof first starts smoking while waiting for the other to arrive#and when the other comes and sits next to him he just lights the other's cigarette in complete silence#something something they both have anger issues and that moment at night is when they can truly relax#is this thing on can anyone hear me#also peter jr sometimes (somehow) goes onto the roof too and lays between them#SORRY MY BRAIN HAD TO INCLUDE PETER JR OKAY#sawposting#saw#adam stanheight#peter strahm#peter jr#<- he deserves his own tag
29 notes
·
View notes
Note
Loved your tags on the Brenda Strong reblog! We need it as the new supercorp au!
Well, sOMEONE gave me an idea of OG!Lillian losing her memory and staying with Eliza for a while, and all day during work I was daydreaming of amnesia!Lillian slowly being told her life and being eager and excited to meet her daughter, only to find herself facing off against each member of the superfriends first as they try to suss out whether the memory loss is legit and/or whether she deserves to be in Lena’s presence. But finally she passes the final test (Kara) and when Lena still resists meeting her, Lillian overhears her trying to explain why it’s a bad idea. “None of you get it: she is a master manipulator. Lex didn’t exist in a vacuum-- he had to learn it from somewhere, and he learned it from our father and from her.”
But Kara ultimately talks her into it, and Lillian finally finds herself face to face with the woman who is her daughter. Her beautiful, beautiful daughter. Except her daughter doesn’t do anything except sit there-- no eye contact, no attempts at conversation. Lillian finally breaks the silence. “It’s so good to finally see you...”
She reaches over to take Lena’s hand, but Lena pulls away before she can make contact. Lillian instead lets her hand rest on the table between them. A peace offering.
“I’ve heard a lot about you. About your work in National City.”
Lena doesn’t respond.
“They say you’re a such a force for good--”
“Just-- stop,” Lena says finally. “You might have fooled them, but I’m not.”
“What they’ve told you is true-- I don’t remember--”
“And even if that were true, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Finally, Lena meets her eye, but her gaze is cold. Cruel. “You are not a good person.”
Lillian’s heart falls, and only now does she realize how bad an idea this had been.
“I spent half of my life trying to earn your love and the other half trying to get away from you. Don’t think for a moment that I’m going to let you weasel your way into my life after I’ve finally gotten you out of it.”
So... it doesn’t go well. Ostensibly, Lena and Kara are in Midvale to visit Eliza over the fourth of July weekend. Kara planned to spend the night in her childhood home, but Lena refuses.
“I won’t be under the same roof as her--”
“I’ll leave,” Lillian says.
Eliza looks at her in sympathy, but doesn’t protest. “Perhaps it would be for the best. We can put you up in the local bed and breakfast for the weekend, and then after...”
After. After doesn’t matter to Lillian. Not when her only free and living child wants nothing to do with her. She lets Eliza make the plans, and collects her meager belongings into a borrowed suitcase. In a bout of stubborn refusal to quit, when Eliza invites her to the community cookout and fireworks display, Lillian accepts. If only to be in the vicinity of Lena, to observe her daughter and feel a part of her in even so distant a way, if only for the opportunity to show Lena that she is different than whoever she might have been.
But when she arrives the following afternoon, she learns that Lena remained behind alone. “To watch the house,” Eliza says, though the excuse is clear to everyone who hears it. Lillian also notices that her daughter’s partner Kara is also missing.
“Called back to work in National City,” is the official party line, but Lillian isn’t sure she believes it any more than she believes Lena’s excuse. She tries to enjoy herself, but her thoughts are blocks away, with the woman who refuses to be her daughter.
The evening deepens to night, and as the fireworks display commences, Lillian tries to lose herself in the explosions that rock the very air. Soon though, the feeling of wrongness that’s been following Lillian all night catches up to her with a foggy sky and the scent of not sulphur, but woodsmoke.
“Fire!” a voice cries. “Fire! Fire!”
All heads snap towards the distant voice, and widen when they spot the glow of a building fire in the direction of Eliza’s cul-de-sac. The crowd on the beach move as one towards the scene, Lillian at the lead. Heart pounding against her ribs, she hears the wail of sirens approaching: too distant, too slow.
“Lena!” she screams as the burning house comes into view. “Lena!”
Lena isn’t on the street-- she isn’t anywhere to be seen. Realization hits like a bolt of lightning, and someone tries to hook an arm around her as she makes for the front door. Lillian wrenches herself free. “My daughter is in there!”
They aren’t strong enough or quick enough to stop her before she barrels through the front door. Lillian’s brain works rapidly to piece together that if the fire started on the ground floor, then the only reason Lena wouldn’t have made it out is if she were asleep on the top floor, where she would likely be unconscious from smoke inhalation. She thunders up the stairs, coughing as the smoke grows dense. Staying low, she sweeps through each room until she finds Lena in the attic room, unconscious on Kara’s bed.
Lillian gathers her daughter up as best she can and drags her back downstairs, through the front door and out onto the grass of the front lawn, coughing all the way. Eliza and her daughter Alex look at her as though they’ve seen a ghost, but all Lillian can think of is that her daughter isn’t coughing.
“She isn’t breathing!” she cries, desperately. Tears spill down her cheeks, and not just from the smoke. Without hesitating, she lays Lena flat and begins to administer rescue breathing. Counting and breathing and crying, her world narrows to her task alone, until the hands of paramedics crowd her vision, moving her aside even as they reach for Lena.
“It’s all right ma’am,” one says gently. “We’ve got her from here.”
Lillian follows them to the hospital, and waits as her daughter is treated for smoke inhalation. Soon, she’s informed that Lena is comatose, and on a respirator.
“I’d like to sit with her, please.”
No one thinks to tell her no. And so Lillian waits, for hours, over a day for her daughter to wake. Doctors come in and apprise her of Lena’s condition, but nothing prepares her for the fear that creeps into Lena’s eyes when they finally open, and she realizes there’s a tube down her throat. Nothing prepares Lillian for the way that fear amplifies the moment Lena lays eyes on her.
“Sweetheart, please,” she begs, “it’s okay, you’re okay. Please, calm down--”
But when Lillian reaches for her daughter’s hand Lena recoils again, and begins to thrash against the restraints that have kept her from pulling out her tube. Choked, muttering sobs emerge around the tube, and sickening gurgles chill Lillian to the core even as a new body inserts itself between them.
“Lena!” Kara says, taking Lena’s face between her hands. “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe. I promise you’re safe. Please, calm down... come on, breathe with me. In... out... don’t fight the tube, Lena, okay? Breathe with it... in... out...”
Slowly the monitors cease their shrill screaming, and only then does Lillian realize that doctors have converged as well, only to hold back until Lena was calm again.
“It’s okay, Lena. She’s leaving. She’s leaving...”
And Lillian does. She leaves the room, and doesn’t look back.
---
She can’t leave the hospital. Lillian makes it as far as the emergency room doors before the pull of Lena draws her back. This time, she sits with the others, waiting with bated breath for Kara to come back with news.
When she does, Kara sits next Lillian directly.
“They’ve extubated her,” the girl says softly. Woman, really. Kara is young, comparatively, yet old beyond her years with a weight Lillian can’t quite place. She offers Lillian a tired smile. “She’ll be okay.”
“She was afraid of me.”
Kara nods, not bothering to deny the truth. “She thought.... well, it doesn’t matter what she thought.” She runs a hand across her eyes. “You saved her life.”
“She’s my daughter.” The words come soft, almost plaintive, as though Lillian herself can’t quite believe them.
“Thank you,” is all Kara returns.
---
Lena’s released a few days later. Kara takes her home to National City, and Lillian believes it to be the end of anything she might have had with her daughter. She tries to banish it from her mind, and focuses instead on Eliza, who now has the unfortunate burden of having had her home burn to the ground. They, at least, are friends, and Eliza seems to appreciate her support, however meager it is.
Two days later, Lillian gets a call she isn’t expecting.
“She wants to see you,” Kara says.
Lillian leaves Midvale that very minute with Eliza’s blessing. She makes the drive in record time, and soon finds herself in an apartment that’s both lavish and cozy, full of a warm life she thus far hasn’t been privy to.
In the bedroom, Lena sits propped up with pillows, a box of tissues on one side and a waste bin on the other. “Sorry for the mess,” Lena croaks, cracking open one eye as the door creaks shut behind Lillian. “What I’m coughing up hasn’t exactly been pretty.”
Lillian sits on the furthest end of the bed. She itches to reach for Lena, to care and to mother her, but folds her hands in her lap instead in deference to the undercurrent of wariness that still runs through her daughter’s voice.
“You saved my life,” is all Lena says after a moment. “Usually you don’t do that unless you have an ulterior motive. Like murder.”
Lillian flinches, but then freezes when she catches the slight hint of a smile playing at Lena’s lips.
“Joking,” comes the rasping assurance. “Old-you would’ve gotten it.”
Instead of jumping in on the joke, Lillian finds herself fighting tears. “I really haven’t been much of a mother to you, have I?”
“No, you haven’t.” But this time it comes without malice, without judgement.
Lillian wipes her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lena. I wish-- I wish I had been better to you. You-- you deserve--- every happiness.”
“I do,” Lena agrees again. “But the good news is, I finally have people who let me believe that.”
“Good,” Lillian says breathlessly. “That’s... good.”
A long moment of silence passes between them.
“I believe you,” Lena admits finally. Her shoulders lift in a shrug. “I don’t know what that means for anything between us, but--- I believe that you’re not... yourself.”
Lillian nods carefully. “It’s hard to hear the things I did. It feels like some other person entirely. I know it’s not,” she says quickly, “not really. But... I want to be better than her. Than who I was.”
Lena looks at her carefully. This time, Lillian looks back, holding her daughter’s gaze.
“Will you help me?”
#brenda strong#good mom lillian#amnesia fic#angst#little bit of whump#at least i'm on brand#right?#based on that recent photo#couple posts back
140 notes
·
View notes
Note
Just had a dream where Spy had hanahaki disease (the one where you cough up flower petals until you confess, or until you die) and the only way to solve it was to admit his feelings. Could I possibly get some headcanons for a few of the team (whoever you like, just please include spy), in that scenario? What would they do?
Okey my first request I'm excited ☺️😂. I will try my best.
The mercs get hanahaki
(includes spy,medic,scout )
Spy
You and spy are good friends since you joined the team.
What you may fail to notice is that spy has the biggest crush on you. He knows that you just see him as a friend and he wants to change that.
So one night he lays in his bad thinking of all the things you did together when he feels a sharp pain in his chest.
Spy thinks it was medic taking some organs again until he start coughing up red rose petals mixed with blood.
He didn't even think of going to medic the first thing he did was him reading every book in his little "library"
In the morning he finds what is causing the pain...... it was you.
It made him mad that the universe just decided to make him a) confess his feelings or b) die a slow painful death over love.
Spy couldn't wait for long or he would you know die. So the Frenchman decided to make a plan.
In battle I was by your side acting injured every time he needed to cough.
Out of battle I smoked a lot more to hide the coughing.
One day the team went on a hike together it was one of the worst days for spy I thought he might die any second and you noticed so you asked what was wrong.
He explained everything and asked if he you love him.
You said yes:
As soon as you said yes spys pain went away.
He let a small laugh thank you for feeling the same.
Let's just say when you both came up the hiking trail a little later holding hands the team knew that you were now the girlfriend of the spy.
You said no:
Spy said that he understood slowly feeling the pain in his chest grow.
He stayed in the back as you were all walking up the hiking trail.
At the top he was the last to arrive.
Everyone was looking at him until.
Until he just dropped to the floor.
As medic checked for a pulse he found not a trace of one.
He was dead.
Medic
Medic doesn't believe in true love. He thinks it's impossible to feel it and treats it like a illness.
But when you joined the team he couldn't run away from the fact that he was starting to slowly fall for you.
So one day after checkups Josef (I Headcanon Josef as his name if you don't replace) was sitting in medbay at his desk doing paperwork when he started to cough up flower petals and blood all over the desk.
I knew what was going in seconds.
He didn't choose to fall in love it was your fault at least that was what he told himself.
I planned not to tell you what he is feeling but the voices in his head that was always talking him down and driving him crazy said that he can't do that.
It surprised him.
In a week the team and his doves notice medics behavior around you was getting weird.
The team wanted to ask but were to sceard that the doctor might get angry.
So one day you find one of medics doves on the bed next to you trying to get you to follow it.
I knew something was wrong since medic was trying to avoid you at all costs.
You and the doves came to the medbay door.
You open it to find everything covered in blood and flowers with medic in his chair.
He sees you and asks if you love him and you say
Ja(yes) :
Medic starts to crys while the pain in his chest slowly wears off.
He gives you a kiss on your forhead and say that you should both get some rest
Nein(no) :
Medic politely asks you to leave so you do.
The next morning you come down to see everyone sad.
You ask what happened and get told that medic was found dead with flowers growing out of his body.
Scout
You and scout started being friends when you joined the team.
You were the best of friends and spend all of your time with each other.
So it wasn't a surprise for scout that he had fallen in love with you.
One week and he went to visit is mother.
He talk about you with her until he felt a sharp pain in his throat.
He started to cough up blood and flowers. His mom knew what was going on.
She told him I can only get rid of the flowers by being a man and telling you his feelings.
He asked his mom for tips. She only told him to be himself.
Back at the base the both of you on the roof scout asked you if you loved him.
And you said
Yes:
As soon as the words left your mouth.
Scout started kissing you.
He was so happy he said you needed to meet his mom now.
Let's just say is mom was surprised when her son was standing at the front door with someone at 3 in the morning.
No:
Scout said he understood and left.
Let's just say he left without a trace never to be seen again.
Thank you for reading 💞🧣
MysteriousGentleman 21st February 2021
128 notes
·
View notes
Note
Tell Me for Goemon and Jigen?
There was something wrong with Jigen.
Goemon prided himself on his ability to observe his lovers well. When someone had three, they had to. Knowing and being able to predict their every movement was, of course, essential in a fight or on a mission, but it also made for a good living situation, and Goemon preferred that sort of thing over the alternative. Lupin was in his typical spirits - recovering from a pretty bad injury he’d gotten on a heist three weeks before, and frustrated at being unable to go in for a second try just yet - but other than that, seemingly unbothered. Fujiko was a little more amiable than normal with all three of them, which made Goemon think she might be up to something. Goemon was keeping an eye on them both, but neither of them gave him worry.
Jigen was the one who was acting unusually. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be a little cagey or quiet but he was almost entirely closed off these days. He was barely sleeping, either, as Goemon noticed when he got out of bed night after night to go for a walk. Where he would normally be engaged or at least attentive to Lupin’s plans, now he just listened to them with an air of bored disinterest, not responding. And he was drinking... excessively. It was a habit with him even at the best of times, but not like this.
Goemon wasn’t sure what the trouble was. Either Jigen was upset about the mission, annoyed with their lifestyle, just plain sick of being stuck here with the other three, or something else that Goemon couldn’t guess.
Maybe he just didn’t want Fujiko around so often?
But that didn’t seem to be it. Usually when she was around Jigen just complained and grumbled but took it in stride. He didn’t lose sleep over it.
The few times Goemon tried to subtly ask Jigen if he was all right, he got brushed off. So he tried asking Fujiko.
“I think he’s okay,” she said, looking hesitant for a split second. “You know how he gets sometimes. He’s just in a mood. He’ll snap out of it.”
So Goemon turned to Lupin.
“Jigen? He’s doing good! He’s just mad that we’ve been stuck here so long. But don’t worry. Once we’re back out on the road he’ll be back to normal.” His words were casual and confident, but the flicker of worry in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. Something was definitely amiss, but none of them knew what.
So Goemon just did his best to ignore it and spent his time snuggling with Fujiko and sleeping next to Lupin and wishing Jigen would come in and hold him like he used to. On the nights when Goemon slept alone, he would awaken sometimes to find Jigen pacing listlessly around, smoking and staring out the windows like he was looking for something. He was beginning to wonder if he’d done something that pissed Jigen off, but he couldn’t think of a single thing that would have done it. And anyway, it wasn’t just Goemon that was getting shut out. It was all three of them.
This went on a few nights more until Jigen just got up one day and left. Goemon caught him leaving with a bag of spare clothes, bullets, and whatever else he usually carried with him when he needed to make a hasty exit. “Where are you going?”
“I need a break,” Jigen’s reply was brusque, and he didn’t turn to look at Goemon.
“From what, exactly?”
Jigen shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
“When are you coming back?”
“Dunno.”
“And where are you running off to?”
“Don’t care. And it doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll be fine. Hey -” he turned to Goemon for the first time, but his face was obscured and unreadable. “Take care of him, okay?”
“Who?”
“Lupin. Look out for him.”
“When don’t I?”
“...Yeah... Yeah, you always do.” Jigen paused, keeping one hand on the door. Then, in a sudden gesture, he came over to Goemon and bent to kiss him on the cheek. Goemon started in surprise. Jigen hadn’t done anything like that in almost a month, but before he could respond, Jigen muttered, “Bye,” and headed out just as quickly, closing the door behind him.
Goemon had been with them all long enough to know when they were asking to be loved without really asking. When Fujiko enticed him to do something drastic and against his own ethics, she really wanted to know do you love me enough to support me? When Lupin threw himself into the thick of it and expected Goemon to be there, it was a question of do you love me enough to rescue me?
Jigen rarely asked anything like that of anyone. But this latest action was clear. Do you love me enough to find me?
Goemon didn’t need to think twice.
~
Jigen had clearly wanted to be found. The whole team knew how to truly hide in a pinch, but Jigen had just taken off to the nearest safe house and left the lights on. Goemon had given him fifteen minutes head start, but even with that, it had taken Goemon less than an hour to track him down.
Goemon waited patiently on the roof for a good time to enter the building. He figured he’d at least give Jigen some time to cool off before he confronted him. He actually had no idea what he was going to say, but maybe it wouldn’t matter. It wasn’t like he knew what the problem was yet, anyhow.
When the sun was low in the sky and night was coming on, Goemon knocked on the door.
At first there was silence, which meant that Jigen was deciding whether or not to pretend the house was empty. But the lights were on, which meant that in another second he’d threaten whoever was knocking, and he did. “Leave this place. I’m armed and I’ll shoot.”
Goemon could picture him with his hand on his gun ready to fire at anyone who tried to force entry. Not that any such thing would work on Goemon, but he hadn’t come for a fight. “It’s me.”
Another pause. When Jigen responded this time, he sounded exasperated. “The hell do you want? I told you, I need a break.”
“I’m not here to bring you home. I just want to know why you left and then I will go.”
There was a string of muffled curse words from behind the door and then the clicking of bolts. The door swung open. “Well, get in,” Jigen muttered.
He’d picked one of the worst safe houses; it had electricity and running water but the heat was faulty and there was barely any furniture. Luckily it wasn’t wintertime and he was here alone. Goemon sat on the floor and watched. He could already tell Jigen had been drinking by the way he moved - it wasn’t always easy to tell with him, but there was a slight waver in his step, and his movements, which were ordinarily extremely deliberate and careful, were faltering. Goemon was glad he’d arrived sooner rather than later. “...So.”
“Why’d you stalk me?” Jigen flopped back into the only chair in the room.
“You seemed like you needed it.”
Jigen snorted. “I really didn’t. Thanks for the concern, though.”
“Why did you leave? Are you mad at us?”
“Nah. Not at you,” Jigen fished into his pocket for a cigarette and lit it. “Not at any of you really. It’s just a lot to explain, and I don’t really want to say what happened. Besides, it’s nothing to do with you.”
Goemon fought back a flash of irritation. “It seems like if the man I love leaves without saying anything, it has a lot to do with me.”
That seemed to get his attention. “I...” he paused. “I guess I didn’t think about it like that. Shit, Goemon.” He sat up straighter, sighing. “All right, come on. I’ll tell you, but you’re not gonna thank me for it when you find out. Let’s go up on the roof. It’ll be more comfortable than this hole.”
Outside, the stars were coming out, and the sky was clear and warm. “Pretty night,” Jigen commented. He’d brought his whiskey bottle and drank from it straight, not bothering with a glass. This house probably didn’t have any that were clean.
Goemon sat and watched the stars, waiting. They spent a long time together like that, in silence, but it was an easy silence now. When he looked over, Goemon could see Jigen’s face clearly up close for the first time in a long while. He looked exhausted, with a strained look around his eyes like he’d been hurting somewhere and was just trying to weather it out until it finally faded.
“So you thought I was mad at you. I guess that makes sense, but no,” Jigen said at last, quietly. “I don’t want you to ever think that I don’t love you. You don’t have the first idea how much I do.”
That was surprisingly reassuring, on Goemon’s part. He tried not to doubt his partners’ affections for him as a rule, but hearing it clearly stated was nice. But Jigen was dodging the issue. “You did not bring me out here to tell me that,” he said.
Jigen shifted, uncomfortable, and continued. “So. You remember Cancun.”
It had been their last heist; gone sour. “Yes.”
“You remember how Lupin got hit with that stupid ray thing.”
Goemon nodded. That part had been the reason they left early. They’d actually managed to get part of the loot, but not all of it, since the safety of Lupin came first. “I stayed behind to avenge him for his pain,” Goemon had taken quite a thrill in that aspect of it. Less so when he had to ride the bus back to their base covered in blood. Ketchup, he told the pair of nervous old ladies sitting next to him.
“Yeah. Well. There’s part you don’t know and it was pretty bad, Goemon. I didn’t want to tell you cause...” Jigen sighed. “I guess I didn’t want to freak you out. I dunno.”
A bit too late for that, Goemon reflected. But he waited for him to go on. He did, after a little. “So it wasn’t a friggin’ “death ray” or whatever it was supposed to be, it wasn’t any sort of supersonic mega-powerful beam of concentrated anything. All it was was electricity. Just an electric shock. And when we figured that out, we thought we could get past it no problem, you know? We figured neither of us would get hit, and even if we did, what then? So he was doing his usual stupid “get out at the last second” thing, and he took a blast and went down,” Jigen’s voice faltered just a bit. “I don’t know why I didn’t think to shoot the thing earlier. Would’ve been so easy, but we were being dumb and arrogant. Anyway I dragged him out of there quick but there wasn’t anything I could do before his heart stopped.”
There was a long pause with nothing but Goemon trying to make sense of the situation and Jigen’s rapid, unsteady breathing. The rest didn’t take much to piece together, but Jigen went on anyway. “I tried what I could to bring him back. But I’ll never know if it was me or if he just wasn’t all the way dead or if God Almighty took one look at him and went ‘I’m not putting up with this guy today’ and threw him back.”
“But he came back.”
“Yeah. I swear though, Goemon, it was his freaky luck. That man -” Jigen shook his head. “If I had an ounce of whatever god-given fortune he’s been handed - but I don’t. I don’t. All I know is there was about five, ten minutes where I was sure he was gone.”
“He is alive,” Goemon said. “He’s at home as we speak.”
Jigen put his head in his hands. “I don’t understand it. I can’t tell you how many deaths I’ve watched and how many I’ve caused. It’s nothing to me now. He wasn’t my first dead friend, he wasn’t the first person I’ve held in my arms when I lost them, and I don’t understand why this one shook me up so much. There’s no reason I can think of. I love him so much it hurts, but it’s not like I don’t imagine every day what it would be like to lose him. It’s not like I don’t know.”
“You have not lost him,” Goemon said.
“I know, dammit, but I will. Sooner or later - I can’t tell you how much I want to be the first one of us to die. I can’t stand the thought of losing you two. I swear it’ll drive me out of my goddamn mind but the way fortune is, with us -” he broke off, laughing bitterly. “Oh, God. He’s the lucky one. It’ll be him, I just know it.”
Goemon didn’t nearly have Jigen’s knack for pessimism. Lupin’s lack of self-preservation was probably as much a part of what would get him killed as fortune, and Goemon didn’t agree with Jigen’s assessment that an untimely death was necessarily a lucky outcome. If anything, Lupin was just as likely to live to be one hundred and die peacefully, an old man and triumphant, if luck was the determining factor in his fate. He wasn’t sure any of that would help Jigen, though. Because in truth, neither one of them knew what was going to happen.
“So that’s why I left, anyway. I can’t look at him now without thinking of what’s coming and I just can’t handle that. I’m just a hired man. I wasn’t really cut out to be a lover.” His hand shook on the bottle that he turned over and over in his palm. “I shouldn’t have let it go this long or get this bad but I did. Stupid of me. And I know I’ll have to tell him at some point but...”
“Is it not worth it?” Goemon asked. “Suppose I die tomorrow, for a certainty. Would you give me this last night?”
Jigen shook his head fiercely. “No. I couldn’t. I know I’m a piece of shit but I couldn’t do that. I’d have to leave.”
“But what would that spare you? You’d still suffer either way.”
Jigen didn’t seem to have a good response to that. He just sat there, tense, his breathing ragged. He was still holding together, but barely. Goemon didn’t know what to say to him. He had no doubts that Jigen was a strong man, but he was also one who needed, at times, to be treated gently, and gentleness was not something that came naturally to Goemon at all. He usually didn’t touch Jigen - didn’t initiate it, at least - because he simply had no idea how.
The best he could do was put his hand on Jigen’s shoulder and sit with him out under the stars at night. Love was scary. Goemon knew that. He wasn’t used to loving even one person, let alone three. But he did it because however it had happened, these three depended on him, and much as it sometimes bothered him to admit, he depended on them as well. And that explained the relief he felt when Jigen relaxed - just a bit - and came to lean against Goemon, letting himself rest a little.
“You know what really kills me?” Jigen said after a few minutes.
“What?”
“Without Lupin, I wouldn’t have you, either. We’re Lupin’s men, but without him bringing us together we wouldn’t have a place in each other’s lives.”
“That is not true. I would call you when I needed you.”
“Yeah, and so would I. But you’re a samurai, Goemon. You’ve got ambitions - potential. Eventually the time would come when we’d just stop seeing each other. Other priorities, you know?”
Goemon bowed his head. It was true, and the truth of it rang hollow in his chest. He loved Jigen with his whole heart but they were together by circumstance, not fate. There was no place for Jigen in his life outside this team - he couldn’t take him home, he was too much. Lupin knew how to carve out a space in his life for a difficult, temperamental gunman but Goemon didn’t have the first clue. And wherever Jigen went when he wasn’t with Lupin - if he even HAD a place - Goemon had no desire to stay there.
“We could try,” he said at last. That was the only comfort he had to offer. “And for now, we do not have to worry about that. We can save that for when it happens.”
Jigen nodded. Trying would have to be enough. Trying, and hoping that the day of that trial would never, ever come.
Goemon wanted to ask when he would be returning. But after all, it didn’t feel quite right to ask. Jigen would return home. He’d said he would, and Goemon trusted that it was so. He just needed time. And thankfully for them both, they still had plenty of that.
#Lupin III#long post#yeah this is the one that I took like a week of editing on cause I had to rewrite the dialogue like 15 times to make sure it sounded good#but even then I don't know if I like it I just figured I needed to quit tweaking it since it's pretty late#anyways it also wasn't meant to be this LONG#but it got away from me and this is with parts of it cut if you can believe that#I'm nothing if not thorough AND excessive! enjoy
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
1167
surveys by emptyliketheocean
Brand of cigarettes you smoke? I don’t smoke cigarettes, or at least I never buy my own packs.
Should you be trusted with a person's life? Idk, that’s for them to decide.
How's your life in general? I lost two relatives from Covid this week alone. So, not very dandy. Still in shock. Waiting for it to all finally crash down so I can grieve and mourn properly. Scared of more losses and hoping there aren’t any more to come.
Have you ever put lipstick on anything besides lips? I don’t wear makeup, but when my friends have put some on me in the past there were a couple of times they dabbed lipsticks on my cheeks.
Have you ever picked a fight you knew you would lose? Metaphorically speaking, yeah. I don’t get into physical fights.
What's something you think is crazy about the world? The concept of centibillionaires and the fact that there are multiple ones who exist.
What do you think about religion? I think the only upside to it is how it has helped save lives for some and how it serves as a guide for others to spread good in the world. Like if your religion has given you purpose and strength, that’s great. But ultimately, I’m not a fan and I most definitely don’t think religion is necessary to be a kind person. In fact, I think it works the opposite...most of the homophobes, misogynists, pro-lifers, and sexists I know are from the Christian faith. Cringe.
What about when religion causes violence? Well I definitely have a bone to pick with this lol. The only reason the Philippines is predominantly Catholic today is precisely that when the Spanish arrived, they used violence to forcingly convert Filipinos - who were then living in peace with their own culture, government, and religion system - to Christianity. And now we’re ‘celebrating’ 500 years of Christianity in the country this year, which was always so off to me because why are we celebrating colonization lol????????????? But anyway, yeah, that is another issue I have with religion. I want nothing to do with it.
What color is one of your hats? I have an off-white summer hat but I have literally never used it in public because it’s huge and it’s 100% going to draw attention.
How do you feel? My shoulders are sore and I’m feeling slightly irritated because of them. I’m also starting to get a bit hungry.
Have you ever gotten in trouble for laughing? A few times.
Something that makes you smile: Free food.
What do you think about surveys with lyrics as the title? Surveys with random lyrics usually end up being the ones with interesting questions, so I actually am more likely to check it out.
Do you have any clothes with small holes in them? Maybe one or two.
Do you think the way you live is really okay? I think I am already quite fortunate with what I have considering what others don’t, so it’s definitely been a while since I have complained about anything during this whole Covid situation, living-situation-wise. Even though we’ve lost a few things, like having to sell one of our cars and with my mom being retrenched, we still get by and have a roof over our heads with working water and electricity and a stocked pantry; and I make enough money to hand a portion of it to my parents twice a month and still treat myself with things I want. There is nothing to bitch about.
Do you know anyone other than a cop who has ever owned a cop car? No.
Have you ever felt fire? No, but electricity, yes. I’ve been shocked before but that was also my own fault lol.
Have you ever seen a person light themselves on fire? Jesus no.
Have you ever used crutches when you didn't need them? Yes. I used to horse around with Katreen’s crutches when she injured her legs in 3rd grade, when she wasn’t using them.
If you had 15 beers you would be: Dead.
Are you as bored as I am? No, I’m good.
Why are you taking this survey? I feel like it.
What would you say if a person asked you why your face was so messed up? “How do you want me to react?” Easiest way to shut a person up and passive aggressively tell them to watch what they say.
What would you do if your first love asked you back out? Be very confused and ask why the sudden decision.
What's your home life like? It’s very routine, due to having to stay at home. I work a 9–6 on weekdays, follow that up with dinner, and use a few hours to scroll through social media until it’s time to sleep. Then on weekends I use the free time to recharge by taking surveys and watch videos of whoever and whatever I’m interested in at the moment. Just waiting for all of this to blow over so I can finally do the things I’m meant to be doing.
Do you have a talent that you don't do anything with? I don’t write a lot for myself these days. I do write frequently for work, which is great - press releases, event scripts, all your PR essentials - but I don’t get stimulated enough since everything is written in the same tone. I really should pick up a notebook and pen soon...
Do you know anyone that is a lesbian? Yes. Not that she’s in my life anymore.
What do you think about your mom? I think she tries her best. But I wish she were more emotionally in touch. And that she starts being politically correct.
What do you think about your dad? He’s worked hard and continues to, and I appreciate all his efforts; and I can’t wait to be able to buy him all the things he wants.
Which parent do you respect the most? Who do you think? Hahahaha.
Is there anything someone could lie to you about that you couldn't forgive? I suppose, like cheating.
--
Who do you love unconditionally? My two best friends.
Pick an element. Oooookay? Zirconium.
Have you ever wasted a great amount of time and felt horrible about it? It always feels that way on weekends these days because there’s only so much that can be done while stuck at home because of Covid. But I do try to justify it by telling myself I already work too hard during weekdays so it’s ok to bum around at home and do nothing, because using the time to recharge is still productive.
What is something that's been said about you that isn't true? My mom has said a lot of hurtful things directed towards me that I internalized for a very long time, but I’ve since gained the strength to no longer let those words get to me.
Who do you want with you when you're scared? Anyone who can be calm while I’m not.
Know any bands that not many people have heard of? Many of the punk bands I listen to are virtually unknown on this side of the planet.
Do you have any advice for people in general? Don’t be racist.
What's something you like to do in the summer? Complain about the heat.
What's something you like to do in the winter? We don’t get winter here, but I’ve always thought I would love snow if I ever saw it, and that I would probably make a lot of snow angels and play snowball fights.
What do you think about marijuana? I don’t have a strong opinion on it as it’s still a very taboo topic where I’m from and I’ve also been lacking on research. I do know people who use it for recreational purposes and I’ve never been against that.
Do you wish anyone death? Just politicians.
Have you ever felt like you weren't getting anywhere with a person? Yes, it felt that way for a long time. I just was too afraid of confrontation to do anything about it.
What do you feel for the person you first fell in love with? Resentment and a whole lot of nothing.
Where are you? I’m in my bedroom.
Are you waiting for something? Hmm, not necessarily.
Who is someone you just think has a hole in their brain? People who still think Covid is a hoax.
A candy you like? Gummy anything.
Does any part of your body hurt at the moment? My shoulders and neck, hence the neck pillow I’ve since put on while taking this.
Explain how you got the last bruise you had. I honestly have no clue. I currently have a big black circle on my right thigh that just suddenly showed up, and I can’t recall a time I must’ve hit it somewhere.
Are you tired? A little bit because I got up as soon as I woke up, but I wanted to maximize my free time this Sunday before another work week starts. Last Friday would be our last non-working holiday in a while and we’re not getting another one until August. :(
Explain how you got a scar you have. A distant cousin hurled a glass jar towards me when I was 3, during a family reunion. He initially went for my eye because I guess he wanted to blind me, but he missed and ended up hitting my eyebrow instead. My mom has since banned him from talking to me ever since, and I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him since the incident.
Have you ever owned anything illegal? Illegal copies of movies I’ve torrented, sure.
What do you dream about? The most random scenarios. I’ll get the occasional nightmare, but those only happen when I’m going through a period of depression.
Do you ever daydream? Not anymore these days.
How do you feel about vegetarians? I don’t really think anything of them. There are days I’ll particularly feel for them because there aren’t a lot of restaurants with good vegetarian options where I live, though.
A fruit you like: Avocado, in very limited options.
Have you ever seen a person eat a bug? Only bugs that were already prepared a certain way and meant to be eaten; but I’ve never seen a person that just picked up a bug off the ground and went straight to chewing. I imagine I would freak out and gag.
Something you worry about too much: How much is in my bank account.
How do you feel about smoking? I hate how the smell clings to your clothes and all your things when you’ve been smoking or when you’ve been around people who smoke. I also wince when people pose with their cigarettes just to look badass and cool; but as someone who’s since picked up vaping as a habit, my once-intense hatred for smoking and smokers has since changed lol.
If you had to move out of state, where would you go? I would move to a big city. Somewhere noisier and with a lot of lights and foot traffic and general activity.
What is your favorite vampire-related movie? The Twilight Saga hahahahahaha
Is there a person you keep coming back to? My best friends, I guess?
If you're listening to music...Give me a lyric from the song you're listening to. I’m not listening to anything.
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Somebody’s Gotta Take Care of the Riff Raff
Summary: Al doesn’t remember signing up for being a caretaker, but he’s not going to stop his job.
Or Al finds Diego on the street one night and helps him out.
Words: 2906
(ao3 link)
---
Al lit his cigarette and took a drag. He leaned against the brick wall and slowly exhaled watching the smoke disappear into the night. The neon light of the pub’s sign flickered above his head. Inside he could hear the drunken clamor of the patrons.
“Got a light?”
Al turned to see the speaker. “Oh hey Donny.” He fished in his pocket for the lighter. “Yeah I got one for you.”
“Thanks,” Donny said cigarette hanging out his mouth. He brought the lighter to his mouth puffing a few times. “Catch the game?” He asked.
“It was bullshit.” Al grumbled. “That ref had no idea what he was doing. I don’t know who they’re hiring for this shit.”
“I know,” Donny exclaimed. “And the players aren’t much better either. Yeah sure we got some gems thrown in here or there, but the rest. They’re weak.”
“They found out how to game the system. They lost the feeling that it used to have.”
A raindrop fell in between the two of them. Donny pulled the hood of his jacket over his head while Al stepped further underneath the awning of the building. They watched as a group of young men stumbled out of the pub. They weren’t dressed for the cooling weather. Only one wore a hat while the others had on a mix of shorts and light jackets. They garnered looks from passerby’s as they laughed loudly walking down the street.
“So what’s this I hear about your gym being closed?”
“Oh that?” Al flicked ashes off the end of his cigarette. “The pipes fuckin’ burst. Flooded the damn place. The whole floor is ruined.”
“That’s rough,”
“Eh. It was due for a remodel anyway. But the whole thing is gonna be closed until it’s done.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It’s not that big of a loss.”
“Hey Al” Donny hit Al on the shoulder. “Isn’t that your boy over there?”
Al looked to where his friend was pointing. The group that had exited the pub earlier had stopped underneath a light post and were taking turns shoving a man around laughing. They were mocking him, jumping out of the way when he turned to attack whoever was closest. The rain had picked up into a light drizzle.
The two watched as one member of the group, a man wearing a white jacket, took the guy's duffel from him and started going through it.
There was a brief reflection of light as the man lifted an object from within the guys bag. “Hey this fucker’s got a knife.” He shouted.
“Ah hell it is my guy” Al swore. He ground out his cigarette on wall behind him and threw it on the ground. He ran over to the group. “Break it up. Break it up.”
“Stay out of it old man.” The one with the hat said walking towards him. “This ain’t your problem.”
“Yeah well I’m making it my problem. Scram before I call the cops.” He reached past the guy and grabbed Diego by the collar of his shirt pulling him out of the group. There was a sudden clap of thunder and the sky opened up raining down on them.
“Fuck it’s not worth it.” The guy in the white hoodie said. “Let’s go.” He swung Diego’s duffel over his shoulder running off, the others following him.
Al turned to face Diego. He looked worn out. He starred in the direction the group ran in. “They took my bag.” he said dejectedly.
Al sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Why couldn't the kid just take care of himself. He put his arm around Diego's shoulder. It was a true testament of how tired he was that he didn't tense or flinch like he always did when someone touched him unexpectedly. "Let's get out the rain. I’ll take you home." He led Diego towards the pub, giving a nod to Donny as they walked in.
Al called a car and rode with Diego to the Umbrella Academy. It was a quiet ride. A soft jazz melody drifted back from the radio and the dark interior was lighted briefly by the passing street lights. Al took this time to observe Diego. The kid looked tired. He was wearing the same clothes that he wore when the gym closed two days before. He was pressed against the side of the door looking out at the passing street. He was trying to stay awake but the warm hum of the car was doing its job in lulling him to sleep.
When they arrived, Al almost felt sorry about having to wake him up. He reached out to shake Diego's shoulder. The boy jolted up eyes wide, looking around frantically. His eyes looked out past him and locked on to the building they stopped in front of. His face shifted into horror. He pressed his back against the door drawing his knees to his chest. Al could see him trying to speak but the words didn't come. "P-p-please," he forced out.
"Hey is he ok?" The driver asked.
"Yeah just give me a minute" he growled. He turned towards Diego. "Hey now, hey now. Calm down. "
Letting out soft curses at the size of the car Al awkwardly lowered himself to kneel at the bottom of the floor making himself smaller to the frightened man. He had no idea what set off this attack, but he was pretty well versed in calming him down. He rested a hand on the seat and looked up at Diego. The other man had squeezed his eyes shut and brought his hands up to grip tightly at his long hair. He was rocking slightly.
"Diego buddy. I need you to look at me," Al said lightly. "Can you look at me?" He waited patiently as Diego slowly cracked upon his eyes to look at him.
"That's a good boy," he praised "I'm going to hold your hand. Can you give me your hand?" Making sure to telegraph every movement Al reached for Diego's hand. He watched as Diego's eyes followed his motion. Grabbing on to his hand he carefully massaged it encouraging him to loosen his grip on his hair.
"I'm going to bring it to my chest ok?" Just as before he very slowly brought both their hands to rest on his chest. It was an awkward position. Diego had to lean forward in order to reach and he had to puff out his chest so that they could touch.
He took a couple of exaggerated breaths. "Can you follow my breathing? In." He took a deep breath in. "And out" he let out a gust of air. "Do it with me." He breathed a couple of more times before Diego started to try to match his own erratic breathing with his. "That's a good boy," Al praised. The two of them sat breathing together.
A minute or so passed in silence. Only the sound of them breathing and the rain hitting the roof of the car was heard. Al gave a silent groan thinking about how expensive this ride would end up being. Not for the first time he wondered how Diego became this way. He opened his mouth to ask a question when Diego yanked his hand from his hold.
Al closed his mouth and studied the man before him. He had shifted so that he wasn’t curled against the corner but he still held his hand close to his chest. His face was red with embarrassment and his head was turned to face the seat in front of him but Al could see him looking warily out of the corner of his eye.
“You back with us bud?” He asked. A barely perceptible nod was his only response. “You want to tell me what that was about?” There was silence as Diego stared resolutely ahead.
Al sighed. He knew that Diego often lapsed into moments where he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, speak and it seems like now was one of those moments. He shifted trying to will feeling back into his legs. Time for 20 questions. He racked his head as to what could’ve set this panic attack off. He stretched and caught the reflection of the mansion that was behind him. Bingo.
“Was it the house?” he asked.
Nod.
“You don’t want to go in there?”
Nod.
Al frowned. “Is someone going to hurt you there?”
Pause. Head shake.
Al let out a breath of relief. There was not much that would scare Diego this badly, and call him selfish but he was glad he didn’t have to face it. Unfortunately now that he knew there was no danger in the house he didn’t know what questions to ask to find out why he didn’t want to go in the house. He changed tactics.
“Do you want to stay at my place?” He asked. Diego had only lived with him a couple of times before taking up residency in the gym itself. When he found out that the skinny, bag-o-bones, gym rat he hired was homeless he couldn’t in good conscience let him continue to sleep on the mats. He made him move in with him while they remodeled the boiler room to resemble something of a sleeping place.
Diego shook his head. Al pinched his brow. “Kid I’m not going to let you sleep on the streets for the next three days. It’s bad enough you already spent one night out there.”
Diego brought a finger up to his mouth and started chewing on it. It was tick that Al noticed he did when he was feeling a certain kind of nervous. He doubted the kid even realized he did it.
“Look. Here’s how it’s going to go down. I’ll walk you to the door. If even the smallest thing happens that you don’t like let me know and we’ll leave. No questions asked.” He paused making sure the weight of his words set in. “But. But if we do leave you’re going to come home with me and you’re going to stay there. No sneaking out. Got it?”
Diego gave a slight nod. Al smiled. Sometimes the kid needed someone to tell him explicitly what to do. Opening the car door he got out and waited for the other to do the same. The rain had died down to a light sprinkle. He reached out and put a hand on Diego’s shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze when he tensed up. Lightly he pushed him walking down the path to the front door.
They stood in front of the door. When Diego made no move to open the door Al reached out to do it himself. It was locked. He thumped his head a couple of times against the door. “Of course it’s locked.” he grumbled. “You don’t happen to have a spare key do you.” Diego didn’t respond, only looked at him blankly hugging himself.
Al was about to leave when locks started clicking from behind the door. It swung open to reveal a boy. They stared blankly at each other.
“You know usually someone would introduce themselves after knocking on a door at 2 in the morning.” He said. His voice was full of the superiority and confidence of someone who thought they were better than everyone and knew it too. The boy's eyes shifted to the man beside him. “I see you have brought my brother.”
Al looked between them. “That’s your brother?” he asked incredulously
Diego shivered. “Five.” he said.
Al sighed. He’s certainly seen stranger being around him. He looked back at the boy, Five. “May we come inside?”
Five stepped aside extending his arm. “Be my guest.” He closed the door after them “Can I offer you a drink.” He asked.
“I’d rather not.” He said. Besides, the kid looked way too young to drink. “I’m just trying to make sure this one get’s home safely.” he tilted his head towards Diego. Diego himself stood quietly, arms wrapped around him as he steadily dripped water on to the floor. His breathing was slightly more erratic as he gazed firmly at his feet.
“He doesn’t seem hurt?” Al could see that while the boy put off an air of disinterest he seemed to genuinely care about the state of his brother.
“Not physically.” Al said. “He just needs to sleep.”
Five nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “I can show you his room if you want to follow me.” He started towards the stairs. Al gently took Diego by the elbow and followed him.
“Who are you to him.” Five asked after a moment of silence. “He obviously trusts you a lot if he’s letting you see him like this.” Then quieter under his breath “I’ve never seen him like this.”
Al stayed quiet. Truthfully he didn’t know how to answer. Their relationship obviously strayed far beyond the typical boss employee relationship. He’d almost say he’d treat Diego like a son, though that wasn’t quite right as he had kids of his own who he didn’t raise to be as much trouble as this one caused him. He didn’t know what Diego thought of him either. Five’s assessment of Diego trusting him came as a shock, because while it had taken him years to slowly break down his walls he knew that he still had a lot of progress to make. In the end he chose the most neutral description of their relationship.
“I own the gym he lives in.” He said.
Five hummed. They stopped in front of a door. “This is his room.” He said. He shuffled, looking for once unsure of himself. “I could get you a towel or…” he trailed off.
“A towel would be nice thank you. And a change of clothes. I don’t know if he would have any here.” He gave a reassuring smile to the kid before ushering his own into the room.
It was clear that this room hadn’t been lived in since he left. It wasn’t dirty or dusty like one would expect, but it was dated. A twin sized bed sat against the wall. It still had the childish sheets of his youth. On the desk sat a stack of papers and some textbooks.
Faster than what was humanly possible the kid returned holding a towel and a stack of folded clothes. “The clothes may be a little big. It’s our other brothers he explained.” He looked past him to Diego who was still standing in the middle of the room. “If you need anything I’ll be down stairs.” He turned and left.
Al turned back to Diego. He pulled out the chair pushing Diego on to it. Tossing the towel at him he bent down to start taking off his shoes. “This is as much as I’m going to do for you.” He grumbled undoing the laces. “You’re going to have to get changed by yourself.”
After removing each shoe he pushed himself to his feet and cracked his back. “Not as young as I used to be.” He muttered. “Go change.” He turned away from Diego. “Let me know when you’re done.”
While waiting he took the chance to further inspect the room. He opened the closet door to find it empty of clothes. It was to be expected. On the ground, however, there were a couple of boxes, belongings that either he, or someone else, couldn’t throw away.
“D-done,” Diego said softly. Al turned around. Five wasn’t kidding when he said that the clothes were big. The shirt hung off him reaching low to hit mid thighs. He was gripping the waistband of his pants in a fist and they were still pooling at his feet.
“Come here” here he beckoned. “Lift your shirt up.” He moved Diego’s hands from his pants and tightened the drawstring as tight as it could go before tying it up in a bow. Satisfied that the pants wouldn’t drop at a moments notice he led Diego over to the twin bed before pushing him down on it. “Under the covers.”
“D-d-ont’ need to be … tucked in” He slurred getting under the covers.
“Yeah yeah. Just making sure you don’t do anything stupid like try to leave.” He sat on the edge of the bed pulling out his phone. “Go to sleep.”
“Creep,” Diego said.
“Brat.”
He stayed long enough to hear Diego’s breathing even out into the tell tale signs of sleep. Then he stayed a little longer to make sure he wasn’t faking it. Satisfied that he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon he got up and made his way down the stairs. He wasn’t surprised to see the boy waiting for him.
“You’re leaving.” He said.
Al nodded. The kid was a strange one for sure.
“I have a ride waiting.”
“Your ride is gone.”
He looked out the window and sure enough where there used to be a car waiting there was nothing. He let out a huff of amusement. “I think I’ll take that drink now.”
Five poured him a glass “Stay the night. Leave in the morning.”
He shook his head. “I’ll just call another ride” He took out his phone. “Don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
Five shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He raised his glass towards him. “Thanks for watching out for my brother.”
He raised his in return. “Someone has to.”
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Black Cadillac Valentines
Summary: A oneshot explaining how the PC from Bloodlines knows the Prince of Tucson, Arizona, Lettow Kaminsky. Also, the Cadillac incident Dove tells you about at the beginning of VTM: Night Road.
Characters: Malkavian PC (VTM: Bloodlines), Heather Poe, Lettow Kaminsky, Dove, Sebastian LaCroix (mentioned).
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28660233
February 14th 2005
Briar Rose rots under the sand.
An eagle makes its nest out of blue bones.
Father plucks the feathers from a lark's wings.
Beauregard Sawyer wanders the streets of Tucson, Arizona under the pale light of the moon. All around him, couples walk arm-in-arm on the sidewalk, smiling and laughing and exchanging gifts and kisses.
After arriving in Tucson and presenting themselves to its new Prince last month, Beau and his ghoul, Heather Poe, kept busy. Beau was convinced that something was here, something important. Ever aware of his moods, Heather looked at local real estate agents for a secure haven to live in while Beau began his search. She eventually found a small two-bedroom, one-bathroom basement apartment where the elderly couple who lived in the house above never asked any questions. They officially moved in three days ago.
Whether it was successfully moving in or because it was Valentine's Day, Heather wanted to celebrate and Beau could never say no to his Heather Feather. She was planning something, so he stepped out to give her time to set up.
Beau closes his eyes, readjusts his blue-sunset aviators, and relaxes for the first time in months. Los Angeles was a total bust, but at least its Jester Prince was dust and ashes. Hopefully whoever takes over will be able to clean up the mess the Ankaran Sarcophagus left behind. He takes a deep, calming breath.
The scent of smoke fills his nose.
She got in the wrong Cadillac.
His eyes snap open as he stops in front of the parking lot of a Marriott. He watches as a red-haired woman flings herself out of a burning black Cadillac, pushes herself to her feet, and takes off running past him.
"Isn't that the Prince's Seneschal?" he wonders. Beau's Sight doesn't grant him night vision, but he could swear her silhouette matched that of the hulking Nosferatu woman with the skull face that loomed behind Tucson's Gangrel Prince. Funny, he can't remember her name.
Looking back at the vehicle the woman just vacated, Beau spots a man in a wolf costume hanging halfway out of the driver seat window, screaming and clutching the bleeding remnants of his arm. Ignoring the human, Beau turns back to the woman, flames licking at her heels, as she runs out into the street.
At that moment, a car with its headlights off swerves around the corner at full speed and slams into her. Beau stares as she goes flying, hits the pavement, rolls, and is run over. The car stops and a man in a cream suit jacket climbs out and goes to check on her.
Eagle eyes scan the eastern horizon.
Not yet, he thinks.
He has to keep her safe.
"That's the Prince of Tucson," Beau realizes, bewildered. The Prince of Tucson, Lettow Kaminsky, helps the woman to her feet and pats her down to douse the remaining sparks of fire that cling to her clothes. Beau's attention turns again to the woman and, "Yep, that's definitely his Seneschal."
Then, because his night couldn't get any weirder, a jeep speeds around the corner that the Prince came from. Four heads stick out from the vehicle's open windows and point guns towards the Prince and his right-hand-woman.
Beau immediately ducks into the nearest alleyway, reaching into his hoodie's pocket for his pistol as the sound of gunfire erupts behind him. Screams fill the air. He peeks around the corner and spots the Prince and the Seneschal taking cover behind the Prince's car. The jeep swerves and comes to a stop, the Kindred inside clambering out and taking up defensive positions as pedestrians flee.
The wise decision would be to let them fend for themselves. The Prince and his Seneschal are both Elders. They would be fine. And after LaCroix and the debacle in LA, Beau's never held much stock in the Camarilla or any of its rivals. Kindred and Kine are the same in that sense - both will do whatever it takes to attain power. However...
Father's flock frays and turns to dust.
A lark stretches her wings to embrace the dawn.
Decision made, Beau leans around the corner, raises his pistol, and fires, just missing the head of one of the attackers. Immediately, the person calls to their fellows, drawing attention to the new challenger shooting at them. Their voice cuts out as Beau finally hits his target, the impact knocking them back on the pavement and stunning them.
"Shame that Kindred are so resilient," he thinks. He ducks around the corner again as the other Kindred focus on taking him out. Sticking his head back out as the assailants reload, Beau catches the Prince's eyes and gestures to him.
"Come on! This way!"
Then he steps out from the alley and continues shooting. He watches as the two share a look. The Seneschal finally nods and then they dart out from behind the car, dodging fire as they go.
Beau feels a bullet tear through his gut. He grimaces, throwing himself around the corner and back into the alleyway just as the two Camarilla members reach him. The Seneschal covers them, turning around and firing at their attackers with extreme prejudice.
"Evening Prince," Beau says, using the wall to push himself back to his feet.
"You are... Beauregard, correct?" the Gangrel asks.
"Yeah. My ghoul and I moved here last month." Beau puts a hand over the wound in his side to staunch the bleeding. "I know a place you can hide until they're gone. Or until dawn, whichever comes first. This way." He starts jogging down the alley. Lettow and his Nosferatu companion follow as the shouts of their pursuers ring out behind them.
"Who were those guys anyway?" Beau asks.
"Remnants of the Sabbat that took advantage of the turf war," Lettow replies.
Beau heard about that. From what little he learned from LaCroix and afterwards from rumors, Tucson's Camarilla was embroiled in a turf war. It started four years ago, when the old Ventrue Prince sought to purge the city of the riff raff. That is to say, every Kindred not part of Clan Ventrue.
Many people took offence to that.
Some rebelled, others fled. The Prince's childer took it as an opportunity to latch onto any form of power they could get their hands on and began fighting each other. Soon, they too were as much of a target as the other clans the Prince warred against.
Then in the midst of all that, the Sabbat arrived - led by Beau's sire, LaCroix always loved to mention - and made everything exponentially worse. It was every Kindred for themselves up until Lettow killed the old Prince and took over.
"We need to lose them," the Seneschal says. Footsteps pound on the pavement behind them, the Sabbat giving chase. The Nosferatu huffs, fists clenching white around her gun as she shoots behind her.
A dove with clipped wings and no other place to go.
"We'll find a way," the Prince replies.
"My haven's not too far," Beau says, "If we can shake 'em, I'll lead you straight there."
"You sure we can trust this guy?" the Seneschal asks. Beau feels the Gangrel Prince's sharp eagle gaze settle on his back.
His eyes see all, a gift from someone dear to him.
"For now," Lettow replies with certainty. Then to Beau, he says, "I do not take betrayal lightly. For your sake, you will uphold your end of the bargain."
"And if I don't, you'll dust me?" Beau laughs. "Sounds like someone I used to know. But you don't have to worry, Prince. I always keep my word."
With that, Beau leads them through Tucson's twisting alleyways, letting his feet and the voices tell him which way to go. He guides them through narrow streets and over roof tops, the Sabbat slowly falling behind. The trio eventually lose their pursuers completely when Beau stops, grabs the Seneschal's muscled bicep and the Prince's sleeve and lets the tingles of camouflage cover all three of them. The Sabbat run past none the wiser.
They wait for a time as the confused shouts of the other Kindred gets farther away. Approaching police sirens scare off the remnants. Only after the cops pass does Beau drop the camouflage with a heavy sigh.
"I think we lost them," he says.
"We should get somewhere safe in case they come back," the Nosferatu adds. The Prince nods and turns to Beau.
"Does your offer of sanctuary still apply?"
Beau shrugs. "Sure, why not. It's been a weird day. Night. Whatever."
He leads them back through the maze of alleys. Without the hassle of being tailed, the trio make it to Beau and Heather's haven without difficulty. Beau takes out his key and unlocks the door, leading them inside.
"Beau?" Heather's voice calls from the kitchen, "Is that you?"
"It's me," Beau replies, closing the door and locking it.
Heather rushes to him, red hair whipping behind her. Beau catches her, stumbling backwards as she flings herself at him.
"I missed you," she says, hugging him. He smiles and pats her back.
The Prince coughs, interrupting the moment. Heather quickly lets go. Her face flushes as she recognizes their guests.
"Ran into some friends. They needed a place to stay a bit," Beau shrugs, taking off his aviators and tossing them onto the hall table. "Hope you don't mind. I know you had plans."
"No, no, it's fine," she replies, tucking her hair behind her ear. She shuffles in place, wringing her hands. "Um, Beau?"
At her tone, Beau pauses. "What did you do?"
She bites her lip. He crosses his arms.
"... I caught a fish again."
Beau blinks. Then, he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Feather, remember what I told you last time you did this?"
"I'm sorry," she deflates. "But we just moved in, and I wanted to get you something since you've been so stressed lately."
"And I appreciate it, I really do, but it's still super dangerous. What if you got caught?"
Her silence is telling.
"You got caught."
"... I caught two fish."
"Please Heather, please tell me you didn't use the shovel."
She swallows and braces herself. Beau throws his hands up.
"Feather, you know how I feel about the shovel!"
"I'm sorry!"
"Just... Just go," Beau rubs his eyes, desperately wanting to scream. "Where are they?"
"I locked them in the guest room..."
He waves her off, exasperated. He watches her disappear into the living room before turning to their guests. "Are you two hungry? I've got bagged in the fridge, and you're welcome to that, but I gotta take care of this mess."
The Camarilla members stare at him. Beau glances between them.
"Is something wrong?" he asks.
"See," the Seneschal finally says, turning to Lettow, "I told you he was a Lunatic."
"Come now Dove," the Prince sighs, "That is no way to speak to our host."
"Oh right," Beau thinks, "Her name was Dove." Then the rest of her sentence registered.
"Lunatic, huh? That's a new one."
"It's the eyes," Lettow says. "Because of your sunglasses, it was hard to tell. I believed you were Toreador."
"Huh." Beau pauses. "I honestly don't care either way. Let others see what they wish to see, the truth is always obscured." He shrugs. "But enough of that, we did a lot of running earlier. Are you hungry?"
"I could eat," Dove replies.
The Prince agrees. "We will make do."
Cold and slimy and unfulfilling.
Blood bags don't provide enough subsistence for Kindred. The ones who subsist entirely on them are either desperate or clinging to the remnants of their humanity. Most prefer obtaining their fill directly from the source. With this in mind, Beau extends another olive branch to them. The voices whisper that something good will come of this relationship.
"If you want, you can help me with the fish," he offers. The two look at each other.
"Fish?" Lettow asks. His lips twitch into a small bemused smile. A dubious expression crosses Dove's face.
Beau grins as he leads them to the guest room. He stops by the closet and pulls out the shovel he and Heather own, hauling it over one shoulder before continuing on. Dried blood sticks to its metal blade.
"Yeah, fish. But not literal fish. I think you'll like it."
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s Just a Prank
Thanks so much to @ladybug1596 for the idea to this story, i taked a long time to write it and i think it’s okay after all!
Summary; Sareena is turned into a bat by Havik and Bi-Han tries to help her, but the price is a little to high...
Words count; 3968
Pairing; Sareena x Bi-Han
Warnings; Extreme embarassing situations
The Lin Kuei temple was peaceful, always cold on the outside but warm among its members. The former Netherrealm assassin Sareena, was now dedicated to protecting her beloved clan, there she had found a family and a reason to exist. The relationship with Bi-Han was inseparable, since they had fought together against the dark forces of Shinnok they had become a deadly duo.
Although the current Grand Master was Bi-Han's little brother, he was not offended by this or had the ambition to steal Kuai Liang's place, things were comfortable as a second in command and allowed him more time to dedicate worldly things.
The snow fell with all its purity above the rustic roofs, adorning the local trees and merging with the boreal scenery that created a playful landscape. The recruits trained in low temperatures as a way to strengthen themselves, one of the prodigies of the new generation was Kuai Liang protegee, Frost. She was known for her fiery temper and arrogance, loving to brag about her cryomancy and battle skills. Sareena had woken up late that day, arriving at the dojo with a cup of coffee in her right hand, yawning. The demoness wore a black leather coat with red trim, it was made of incubus skin.
"Sorry for the delay, I've been busy with other matters." Said Sareena, taking a sip of her rapidly cooling drink.
The apprentices bowed out in respect to the woman, waiting for her to begin the first lesson of the day. The tutors were divided into schedules and classes, Sareena was with the beginners class in the morning and the melee training at night with advanced students. She pinned her two-tone hair into a loose bun and started class. The subject was discipline and how defense could be the best attack, practicing counter attack and blocking tactics with students who always had difficulty because their teacher was extremely demanding.
The class continued without any interruption, until the pause for the apprentices to review or rest. Sareena left the training yard and returned to the warm interior of the dojo, sighing and shivering because of the temperature, she was not used to the cold. Strong, gentle arms wrapped around her slender figure, embracing her warmly. She didn't even need to look to know it was Bi-Han, who rested his chin on the woman's arched shoulder, giving her a provocative look.
"I missed you ..." He murmured, kissing Sareena's cold cheek.
"An hour ago I was on your side in bed, idiot." She smiled, blushing at how affectionate Bi-Han was that morning.
"Yes, and you got up without saying goodbye or even waking me up."
Before they could continue the couple's stuff, they were disturbed by Smoke, who was entering the building, with a pile of old books in hands, he perfectly balanced the manuscripts and looked at them with doubt, being able to make both of them feel extremely uncomfortable with that. . Smoke smiled at the couple and before heading to the library decided to provoke them a little
"You two could go to a room, you know." The enenra commented, disappearing to store the books in the large study wing.
Bi-Han released Sareena and looked at her in shame, running his fingers over the beard that was beginning to frame his pale face. He had even forgotten what he was going to talk about, he hadn't even had breakfast yet or changed his pajamas, he was known as the cool teacher who didn't piss off or acted like a lord of the rings character.
"A weird guy came to visit you today, as you were out I got him to see what it was about, he left you a letter." Bi-Han told, handing her an envelope that was still sealed.
"Oh really? How strange ... Didn't he say who he was? ” Sareena looked at him confused, taking the letter and opening it immediately, starting to read.
"No, he just said he had something for you, he wore a mask so I also didn't see his face, for a moment I thought it was Quan Chi but I noticed he had hair so I denied the possibility." The man explained, making the devil laugh with his comment about her former boss.
Sareena's eyes widened when she finished reading the letter, leaving Bi-Han curious and distressed, she then started laughing and thought it was some joke on his part with all that mysterious stranger story. The letter's contents were a disturbing declaration of love, containing a poem about how perfect every vital organ in her body was, it looked like something a butcher would write.
"If I were you, I would ask Kuai for help before trying to write a love letter, this is scary!" Sareena exclaimed, returning the note to Bi-Han.
"Love letter?!" He repeated, confused by the whole situation and jealous, starting to read the content himself.
"Weren't you the one who wrote it?"
"Of course not! Even I know the limits of bad taste. ” The ninja replied in frustration, tearing the paper.
"So is this mysterious stranger story serious?" She couldn't believe it, but from Bi-Han's reaction it seemed to be true.
"Yes. That's why I looked for you! ” Bi-Han's face was red and he did not hide his jealousy, he had served as a mailman for a possible competitor.
"You're jealous?" The woman joked, smiling and approaching him, placing her face against his chest.
"Me? Of course not, because apparently this guy is only interested in stealing your organs and selling on the black market, I bet he has something to do with Kano. ” He mocked, kissing the girl's forehead, smiling at her.
“Let's forget about it, okay? Whoever that freak was, he doesn't get to your feet. ”
The couple forgot about the matter for now, going about the day quietly, without mentioning what happened. Everything was perfectly normal, until Sareena had to go to her rooms to pick up her favorite hook in order to show it to her students on the night shift, she would give a nice lesson about impalement. Upon entering the room she shared with her boyfriend, she was surprised by the sinister appearance of a hooded man, who was sitting on her bed, staring at her. The mysterious figure had a skeletal face, with wide eyes and an almost comical expression, it was not something human.
"Not only did you laughed at my love letter, but you also mocked me with that emo ninja, you’re tearing me apart Sareena!" He spoke in a high-pitched voice.
Before the demoness could have any kind of reaction or response to the stranger, a red fog filled the room and with the sound of an explosion, a strange transformation took place. Everyone in the temple could hear that disturbing sound, Kuai Liang instructed the students to stand guard and not accompany him, leaving Smoke to supervise them while he and Bi-Han went to check on what had happened. When they reached the room that was the source of the noise, they looked from side to side, looking for a clue as to what had happened, and to the brothers' surprise there was nothing unusual there or a trace of Sareena. The cryomancers looked at each other, starting to turn the room over until they concluded that everything was clean.
Bi-Han omitted the visit of the masked stranger to his brother, focusing on searching the rest of the temple for Sareena. Search teams split up to look for her, and none were successful. It was already dawn and everyone was tired, going back to the dormitories to continue their searches later. Bi-Han was frustrated and blaming himself for ignoring what had happened earlier, he should have taken that as a warning. The peace in which he was living had in fact taken him away, he needed to be aware again for the sake of his loved ones. The ninja lay on the bed that seemed even bigger without his dear Sareena, the blankets were cold and the feeling of emptiness consumed his thoughts, until his morbid silence was broken by the sound of knocking on the bedroom window. He got up and carefully went to the window, prepared for a surprise attack, opening it and being stunned by the sudden entrance of a winged creature. A dark-colored bat with a white chest had invaded the room, flying to the doorposts and hanging from the bust of the statue that graced the entrance, Bi-Han tried to grab the animal and was bitten by it, until he was even more surprised by the voice which came from the rodent.
"It's me! Listen to me imbecile! ” It was Sareena's voice coming out of the flying mammal, the ninja swore he was going crazy.
"What kind of witchcraft is this?!" He exclaimed, astonished by the revelation.
"You were right about that freak who came up with the letter, he was here in the room when I came to get my hook, he turned me into a bat!" Sareena explained, trying not to make the situation sound more ridiculous than it already was.
Although the situation was too comical to be taken seriously, Bi-Han was not laughing. He closed the window to prevent the cold breeze from settling in the rooms and sat in an armchair by the door, taking a deep breath and looking at the ceiling. In all his years in the vital industry, it had never happened to him. How he would say that to his brother was the biggest doubt at the moment, he needed to act soon if he wanted to get his dear girlfriend back.
When the sun came up again and the night dispersed, Bi-Han woke up from his troubled sleep, with a bat nestled around his neck, he smiled and stroked the animal's fur, rising from the bed as he stretched. It didn't even seem that his lover's soul was at stake, maybe he was a little too calm at the moment given the situation. The cryomancer put on a black coat and snuggled his bat in the hood behind him, it was comfortable and a good place for her to watch his back.
"I think we're going to need help, you have to talk to Kuai Liang." Sareena suggested, pulling Bihan's hair with her thin claws.
"Out of the question, dear." Bi-Han would accept everything, BUT ask his little brother for help.
It took a lot of flattery on the part of Sareena was needed to convince him to go and tell the truth, and also promises that when she became a human she would reward him greatly. When Bi-Han arrived at Kuai Liang's office, he cleared his throath to announce his presence, thinking about what to say to him.
"I found Sareena." The oldest started
"Where is she?! I was already going to conduct more searches for her. ” Kuai stirred, worried
"Eh ... There is only one small problem."
After explaining the situation and presenting the evidence with his talking bat, Bi-Han imagined that Kuai Liang would use it to get revenge for all the times he was embarrassed by his games, but to his surprise it was quite the opposite. The grandmaster was more than interested in helping, asking several times if Sareena was feeling well with her new form, stating that he would seek help from Raiden if necessary. Bi-Han felt strangely bad for all the times he was such a jerk with the youngest, but it's not like he was going to apologize for it, after all he had a reputation to keep.
It was not long before Kuai Liang left in search of help for the couple, and in his absence a sinister presence returned to manifest itself. It was when Bi-Han asked Sareena to pick cherries for him from the tallest trees that the mysterious hooded man returned. His heavy breathing denounced him and Bi-Han turned to face his ghastly and weird face.
"I see that she is serving you better in that form, maybe I should keep her that way." Commented the man, smiling with his skeleton half-face
Bi-Han did not answer and went after the stranger, grabbing his neck and threatening him, Sareena flew around the two and pulled the mantle of the stranger with her teeth, revealing all his bizarre figure as she removed it with effort.
"Who are you?!" Interrogated Bi-Han, punching him hard in the face.
"I am Havik, chaos cleric and a better man for dearest Sareena." Finally, he presented himself, smiling with threats and violence.
“Dude, it’s not gonna happen. I don't even know you and you just turned me into a fucking bat, aren't clerics supposed to be chaste? ” Sareena replied, annoyed with him.
“Reverse the spell. Now." Ordered the cryomancer, freezing Havik's neck with his cold hands.
"You can reverse it yourself, you don't need me." Revealed the emissary of chaos.
"A kiss of true love?" Sareena suggested, making Bi-Han laugh at the idea.
"No. A performance by Bi-Han singing in the sequel to Ninja Mime is more than enough. ”
They were silent, Bi-Han released Havik who fell to the floor, smiling at them and more than satisfied with the reactions.
"What?"
Havik disappeared with a red haze, leaving them with more questions than answers, which was more than enough to make Bi-Han panic. He knew about the Ninja Mime sequence that would be about a rival singing Ninja but he never thought he would have to participate in that crap, it wasn't fair at all!
"It's not that difficult, I've heard you sing a few times, just call Johnny." Sareena said, encouraging him.
And so Bi-Han did, he was not Kuai Liang to be afraid of the stage, if he had to sing for his motherfucking girlfriend's life then so be it and he would make sure to win a grammy for best soundtrack for that! Calling Johnny Cage, he was answered by a secretary, who with death threats was forced to pass the phone to the actor, Bi-Han was good at acting like a nutcase “Give the phone to Johnny or I'll follow you home and kill your dog. ”
"Cage on the line."
"It's Bi-Han, a huge fan of Ninja Mime and I would like to participate in the sequence as the Ninja Singer, I know that no one else will accept this fucking role." Bi-Han said, it was clear and objective.
"Holy shit the spell I did with that gypsy really worked!" Johnny bragged, glad to have found someone for the role and even more being Sub-Zero's older brother, that would be a blockbuster. "Imagine your name on the posters man!"
"Whatever, just tell me when we can start , it's urgent."
"Hold on, the recordings won't start until next month."
"I'll be there tomorrow, you better be with the same damn makeup of the first movie or I'm going to rip your head off."
And so Bi-Han ended the call, leaving Johnny Cage surprised and busy with several calls to advance the production of the sequence, it would be the most innovative musical of the century and he would have an Oscar for it! The day went on calmly and without further interruptions, Sareena was distracted flying to places she had never imagined, bringing things she found for Bi-Han. Kuai Liang returned unsuccessfully in the search and had to be explained about how they would break the spell, as a form of support he promised to go to the premiere of the film when he launched.
It was already another day and they had a lot to do, Bi-Han used a portal to go to the studio where the recordings would take place, to his surprise everything was ready, he felt powerful for having pressed Cage for it.
"Animals are not allowed on the set of recordings, is this thing vaccinated?" Johnny was talking, looking with disgust at the bat on Bi-Han's shoulder.
"What did you say about my bat, clown!?" Bi-Han was ready to grab Johnny by the collar and hit him
“I’m not a clown, I’m a mime! They're different dude! ” Johnny dodged, laughing at Bi-Han. "Anyway, you will have to memorize your lines, today we are going to record some scenes and as it is a musical you will have to sing, do not worry about the tuning because we can simply put some autotune at the edit."
Bi-Han sighed, going to the dressing room and taking Sareena with him in his coat. He had to put on Ninja Singer's ridiculous outfits that were a bizarre version of Prince's outfits, he hated purple. After going through the makeup and being handed the script for reading, he just leafed through and went straight to the lines, easily decorating the song he would have to sing, practicing it a bit with Sareena before trying in front of the directors.
"You are incredibly good, maybe you have discovered your new vocation!" She praised, playing with her boyfriend's hand while dropping things off the dressing table.
When it was time to record, Bi-Han took a deep breath and went to the initial tests. To everyone's surprise he had the voice of a fallen angel, the singing in the shower had been enough to make him a star. Johnny Cage couldn't help but be excited about his new partner, singing along with him in the stage, the fight scenes were real and he left Johnny with a broken nose but all for the sake of art. The idea of turning Ninja Mime into a musical has never been better! The first act was an epic chant about how Ninja Mime would take revenge on Ninja Singer for making him break his vows of silence with his catchy music.
At the end of the day Bi-Han was exhausted, his throat hurted and he wasn't sure if he wanted to continue his life as a ninja, maybe becoming an actor was in fact his vocation, all he wanted was an easy life and to be paid for singing. However, there was a problem; Sareena was still a bat. Wasn't it just singing that she would be back to normal? He really wanted Havik not to be lying about it, if it was all a prank he would kill the damn cleric who was trying to steal his girlfriend.
“You have to present yourself, remember? On the day of the premiere, there will be a play for the special guests, you will have to sing live. ” Sareena reminded him, for the first time fear appeared on her face.
"Live singing? This is stupid!" Bi-Han took a deep breath, he had to keep calm if he wanted his dear girl back he would have to put up with acting with Johnny Cage for another month.
And so the month went on, the recordings were going well and Bi-Han was stealing the show as an antagonist, Johnny was proud of him and could already imagine the critics considering the sequence the most innovative film of the decade, with clever songs and ultra realistic action scenes. It didn't take long for the debut date to be announced and Bi-Han became increasingly impatient with that, Sareena would have to endure another month like a winged rodent. She was already getting used to that shape, it was good to hide and collect information for the Lin Kuei as well as allowing her to play tricks without being discovered. The day of the presentation came and Johnny Cage was already on stage, talking about his new film and how innovative he was, in the audience were Kuai Liang, Hanzo Hasashi and even Smoke alongside Cyrax, among several other acquaintances of the actors that included Sonya and Cassie in the front rows. The public already expected that the play and film would suck, but they would watch for the sake of their loved ones. Smoke was laughing even before Bi-Han started singing and Kuai Liang couldn't believe it.
The first act of the play began and Ninja Mime was seen in his deep meditation, when suddenly Ninja Singer appeared and cursed him with his infectious music, forcing him to break the vow of silence and start a duet with him. In the second act Ninja Mime felt devastated and swore revenge against Singer, chasing him to hell and having help from Ninja Clown (Played by Terry Crews) and Ninja Loud (played by Adam Sandler) on their journey to defeat him. To everyone's surprise, the performance was good and there were no technical errors in the play, it was a short and theatrical version of the film that would soon open but it was enough to lift the spirits of the guests who were there, even Hugh Jackman was in the audience and considered the musical as good as Les Miserables, Taylor Swift felt attacked by a musical about Ninja Mime being better than Cats.
At the end of the play, the actors were signing autographs for the fans and one of the guests was none other than Havik, asking Bi-Han for an autograph on his forehead, who drew a penis on his face in revenge.
"I sang, acted and now I'm in the fucking cinema, reverse the spell." He spoke, taking the exaggerated Ninja Singer wig from his head.
"Your wish is an order."
The bat fell from Bi-Han's shoulders and an explosion of lights occurred, upon ceasing the figure of Sareena had been reverted to its human form; but without clothes. It was a scandal and Bi-Han handed her his coat to cover herself, swearing that one day he would take revenge on Havik for putting him through all of that.
"Look on the bright side, you are now famous, Ninja Singer." Sareena joked, laughing at everything that had happened.
In the end, that bizarre and unpleasant story had become a laughing matter in the future, Havik stopped sending letters to Sareena and passed to written them to Bi-Han, whom he claimed to be in love with since his performance, demanding a new musical with Ninja Singer as protagonist. For that he might need to turn Kuai Liang into a penguin, but that is for a next prank.
#Mortal kombat#mk#mortal kombat 11#mythologies sub zero#sareena#sub zero#kuai liang#noob saibot#bihan#smoke#cyrax#hanzo hasashi#scorpion#johnny cage#havik#fanfiction#headcanon#hc#sareena x bihan#sareena mortal kombat
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Story of the Discovery Hut
You may have noticed that last week I breezily mentioned a visit to Scott's Discovery Hut as though it were just another class on the schedule. It most definitely was not! Wandering around one of the principal locations of the Terra Nova Expedition – of the whole of Heroic Age Antarctic history – was the pinnacle of the sensory overload of my first 36 hours on the continent, not least because the grubby old Discovery Hut is one of the least well documented sites, so most of it was completely new to me. To visit the other locations on my itinerary, I needed one or another sets of training, but Hut Point is only a short walk from McMurdo Station on solid ground, so my coordinator was keen to get me there as soon as possible.
My first full day in Antarctica was the coldest of the whole trip. I noted in my journal that it was -4°F/-20°C – I don't recall if that was with wind chill or without, but it was definitely windy that day, so you can imagine. The previous day's flurries were still blowing around, so the atmosphere was properly polar, and for the first time I was glad I had brought the heavy-duty boots that had been such a boulder in my luggage.
The Discovery Hut is named such because it was built on the Discovery Expedition, in early 1902 when the ship had found its permanent berth in the small bay at the end of the southernmost peninsula of Ross Island. The bay was imaginatively dubbed Winter Quarters Bay, and the spit of land adjacent to it was called Hut Point, the creativity of which was extended to the whole Hut Point Peninsula. The hut itself had been picked up in Australia, where it was a flat-pack prefab intended to be transported to the Outback and used to house cattlemen as they drove herds across the country. As such, it was designed to shed heat – not an ideal feature in an Antarctic dwelling, but it was never intended to be lived in, rather to serve as a warehouse and emergency shelter should anything happen to the ship. Subsequent expeditions used it more than the Discovery did, because of its proximity to the permanent ice of the Barrier, which made it a key staging point for any southward travel. They all complained of it being uncomfortably cold inside.
And it was cold. Not that I noticed much, beyond corroborating historical reports that it somehow seemed colder inside the hut than outside. Antarctic cold is a funny thing: You are certainly aware that it is cold, but it is a surface sensation only, and doesn't feel as severe as the thermometer says it is. Skin exposed to the air registers the fact it is cold, but even at -20 it didn't go any deeper than that. Compared to the seeping, insidious cold of a damp British morning or an air-conditioned animation studio cubicle, which disregards layers and seems to chill you from the inside out, -20 in Antarctica is really quite comfortable, if you're dressed properly and sheltered from the wind. I barely noticed how cold it was until the tips of my gloved fingers started tingling, which I observed with some perplexity until I remembered the temperature. At that moment I understood how one could get frostbite without noticing, because one's outermost extremities could suffer while one's internal thermostat was still reading as perfectly warm, if not hot. Hence the practice of deliberate, conscious reminders every few minutes to observe the state of one's feet – they would be all too easy to overlook, otherwise.
Lithium ion batteries don't much like the cold, and unlike human bodies they neither generate their own heat nor have a core heat bank to rely on. I got a few photos that first visit, but my phone died as I was taking a video, so I decided to leave the image harvest to another day. The photos in this post are mostly from later (warmer) visits, when electronics were functioning fully and I'd got over the initial awe of being there.
But before I can give you a photographic tour of the Discovery Hut, I need to fill you in on the history, so that you know what you're looking at when you see it, as I did.
As I said before, the hut was built during the Discovery Expedition but hardly used except for storage and, occasionally, a theatre. The next expedition in town was Shackleton's Nimrod Expedition, which arrived in early 1908. The sea ice that year was much more extensive than it had been in 1902, and the furthest south that the Nimrod could anchor was at Cape Royds, twenty miles north of Hut Point. Shackleton had been on the Discovery, though, and knew there were a lot of good things left in the little square hut across the ice, so he sent a raiding party to scavenge some of them and bring them back to Cape Royds. When they arrived, they couldn't get the door open, so they broke a window to get in, which was never repaired. After it had served its purpose as launching point for southern journeys and the Nimrod left McMurdo Sound, the hut filled up with drifted snow which compacted into ice.
When Scott arrived in the Terra Nova – which was also barred from Hut Point by sea ice and so had settled at Cape Evans, fifteen miles north – he found the broken window and the interior of the hut one solid block of ice. This did not do much to improve his opinion of Shackleton. The depot-laying party pushed on south with their supplies, but Atkinson, who had got an infected blister on his heel and couldn't continue marching, was left at Hut Point with Tom Crean; while the depot party was away, they employed themselves in clearing the ice from the hut. Once that was done, they used biscuit cases and the discarded winter awning from the Discovery to build a smaller chamber within the single room, which would hold the heat better, and improvised a blubber stove from discarded bricks and metal in the Discovery's rubbish heap. There are lots of seals around Hut Point so blubber was a self-supplying fuel, as opposed to the very limited quantity of coal which had been brought down by the ship.
The only way to reach Cape Evans from Hut Point is over the sea ice, and by the time the depot party returned, that had all broken up and gone out to sea. (I am glossing over The Sea Ice Incident. Check it out if you want some crazy adventure.) There was nothing for it but to wait at Hut Point for the sea ice to freeze again, which took from the beginning of March to mid-May. This was, as yet, the longest period of occupation for the hut, and was full of tinkering to make the place more liveable. Everyone devised what they thought was the best model of blubber lamp: whatever the design, it smoked with a thick black soot which added to the smoke from the blubber stove. As a result the hut was often thick with smoke and everyone looked like chimney sweeps before long. Crean and Atkinson had done a massive job clearing out the block of ice in the main room, but there was still ice in the cavity between the ceiling and the roof which they could not access, and this dripped on the assembled crowd every time they got the hut above freezing, turning their reindeer skin sleeping bags into a soggy mess. Despite the soot, the 'snipe marsh,' and a diet limited to recombinations of biscuit, seal meat, and the odds and ends left over from previous expeditions, the men all had a roaring good time. Some of them even claimed, when all was said and done, that this was the best part of the expedition.
Just enough to eat and keep us warm, no more – no frills nor trimmings: there is many a worse and more elaborate life. The necessaries of civilization were luxuries to us: … the luxuries of civilization satisfy only those wants which they themselves create.
— Apsley Cherry-Garrard, The Worst Journey in the World
The hut served its purpose again the following November as the jumping-off place for the great effort to reach the Pole. This is its classic role, and what it is best remembered for, when it is remembered at all, but something which I think gets lost and which adds a great deal to the emotional understanding of the place is that it's also the first taste of home for returning parties, the first solid walls after months of living in a tent. For both the First and Second Returning Parties it was a concrete assurance that they had made it, they were back to safety; it was only the matter of a day's walk to Cape Evans from there, which they did all the time. Like reaching one's own freeway exit after a long road trip, the Discovery Hut would be a welcome return to the familiar. It's the first comfort the Polar Party would have been pulling towards in their struggle to get home before the weather broke up for the winter.
But, as we know, they never got there. The next role of the Discovery Hut, and its most poignant, to me, is as the staging point for another southward journey, the one to meet the Polar Party with the dog teams. Atkinson had taken the dogs there after using them to help unload the ship at Cape Evans, but before he could leave he was co-opted to save the life of Teddy Evans , leader of the Second Returning Party, who was dying of scurvy not far away. Atkinson had to find a substitute, so he sent a message to Cape Evans requesting Wright, and if he was unavailable, Cherry-Garrard. Simpson, who was in charge back at Cape Evans, sent both to Hut Point, with the advice that Wright was needed for his particular scientific expertise and that it would be very inconvenient to lose him. So Wright was sent home, and Cherry was chosen to go south. He failed to meet the Polar Party; he and the dogs turned up back at the Discovery Hut exhausted, frostbitten, and unable to do any more work that season. Cherry spent a miserable purgatory in the hut with a strained heart and broken wrist, delirious on painkillers and tormented by the howling wind and fighting dogs, gradually coming to realise that his friends were never coming home.
When the Terra Nova finally left Antarctica for good, they left a large depot of food at Hut Point for whoever might come after, an act of generosity whose prescience was not long in the proving. Shackleton's Endurance Expedition is famous for the ship getting crushed in the ice and the last-chance boat voyage to South Georgia to find rescue. Fewer people know that that expedition had another half: a smaller contingent of men were sent to the Ross Sea to lay depots for the Endurance party to pick up as they crossed the Antarctic continent, which was the expedition’s original raison d’etre. They had what can only be described as a mindblowingly horrible time. It started with their ship being blown off its anchor at Cape Evans and out to sea before it had been fully unloaded, and got much worse from there. Winter clothing had to be improvised from a heavy canvas tent left by the Terra Nova Expedition, and they depended largely on the food that had been left at Cape Evans and Hut Point two years previously. By supreme effort they succeeded in laying the depots required of them, all the way to the Beardmore Glacier over 400mi/600km to the south, and suffered terribly from scurvy on the way back, one of them dying. The remainder narrowly scraped their way into the safety of the Discovery Hut, to recover their health and wait for the sea ice to freeze, but two decided prematurely that the greater comfort of Cape Evans was worth the risk, and set out over the new ice, never to be seen again. It turned out that their suffering was entirely in vain, as the Endurance party, whose survival they expected to depend on their depots, never so much as set foot on the Antarctic continent.
These are the layers of history with which the Discovery Hut, and all the geography of McMurdo Sound, are imbued. It was one of my great privileges, while a guest of the USAP, to be a portal to the Heroic Age for many people who were mostly unaware of what had passed before the building of the American station. It's harder to transmit the tangible immediacy of the history via the internet, but I hope this and the next post will get you some of the way there.
#history#discovery hut#mcmurdo sound#antarctica#antarctic history#discovery expedition#terra nova expedition#prefab architecture#discovery#heroic age#nimrod expedition#shackleton#captain scott
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
100 Letters PART IX
Arthur Morgan x John Marston
Words: 6,545
Read on Archive
Part VIII
-
The sky was a perfect shade of blue, with fluffy clouds that made John feel like he was sitting inside of a painting. He had spent the past few days enjoying the warmer breeze the wind carried alongside Albert’s presence. He was grateful for the man’s hospitality but had grown eager to return to the gang.
John hoped they were okay, not having heard any word from anyone since his arrival at Albert’s cabin. It wasn’t unusual, since they were undoubtedly just keeping a low profile, but he was uneasy nevertheless.
Luckily, most of the time Albert kept John preoccupied with helping him do his photography. It kept his mind free from the anxiousness he felt. John had become an assistant of sorts, aiding Albert in finding the best spots to photograph wildlife.
“Here?”
The sun shined down on John as he set Albert’s tripod on the ground amidst a clearing. The photographer’s head popped up from digging around in his bag, “yes, that���s perfect, Mister Marston!”
“John,” he corrected with a smile.
Albert gave a sheepish grin, returning to his bag once more, “right, apologies. John.”
John had spent their time together constantly reminding the other man to call him by his first name, yet Albert always retreated to his polite roots. It was certainly a contrast to what he was used to, not at all close to the usual treatment he received as a wanted outlaw. Of course, John didn’t believe the man to be naive, how he must know that the likes of him and Arthur were not like most other people. But Albert didn’t seem to care, at least he never voiced any concerns on the matter.
Albert came up beside John, holding the camera he’d retrieved from his bag. Carefully, he placed it on the head of the tripod, setting it up to angle slightly upward.
They were after the Pileated Woodpecker. A tough subject to capture, in Albert’s words. He thought that with their combined effort, he may be able to finally pull the feat off. John suggested this area, sure to travel to a dense enough part of the forest where the bird would likely be spotted.
“I’ve put some berries out in hopes of attracting one,” Albert motioned over to where he came from. “Now all that’s left to do is to wait.”
“Sure.” John stood beside Albert, following his line of sight to the tops of the trees.
Albert produced a pair of binoculars to search above them. Every once in a while he’d tense when it looked like he had spotted something, only to slouch in disappointment when it wasn’t the woodpecker he was in search of.
Eventually, John sat himself against a trunk of a nearby tree, patiently waiting in the comfort of its shade. He tried not to let his mind wander, instead, taking in the beauty of nature that surrounded them. He felt at peace watching the birds fly above, and the tiny squirrels and rabbits that scurried around the forest floor.
A small gasp escaped Albert, who pointed a finger toward a nearby tree, “there.”
John followed his gaze to where he gestured, seeing a ghost of white feathers against the trunk. Upon further inspection, he could make out a streak of red running down the head of the woodpecker. “Whoa.”
John slowly got up to get closer to Albert, who adjusted his camera to get a good shot.
“He doesn’t have any black feathers,” John quietly stated.
Albert gave a short nod, “right you are.”
“He doesn’t look like the other ones, he’s different.”
Albert pressed down to take the picture, sending a plume of smoke to the air with the sound of the shutter ringing out for a split second. Surprisingly, the ghost woodpecker didn’t fly off from the commotion, barely even flinching as it moved its head in their direction.
“It seems not only were we successful in finding one but stumbled across a rather rare variation of the species!”
John studied it, almost convinced that the creature was studying them back with intelligible eyes. He was beautiful but stood out like a sore thumb amongst the dark branches and leaves.
“Must be lonely,” John thought aloud. “Being the only abnormal one around. Are you not disappointed that he doesn’t look like the rest?”
“On the contrary!” Albert turned to smile broadly at him, “this particular woodpecker is a gift! You see, nature can be so exciting. Just when you think you’ve come to understand it, it throws you something unexpected. To find a bird different from the others is refreshing, such things should be cause for celebration in a world that can be so bland at times.”
John let Albert’s thought sink in, deciding he liked the other man’s perspective on it. He’d called it a gift, whereas others might’ve called it a flaw. He continued thinking about it for a while, lingering on his mind even as they packed up the equipment and took the decent walk back to their horses.
By the time John and Albert made it to the cabin, the day was coming to a close. He was starting to grow fond of Alberts simple life tucked away in the forest, but once again felt the anxious pull of not hearing from anyone back at camp. Luckily, the few days here had given his body the chance to heal, admittedly finding his current living arrangements much more agreeable. It was nice to sleep under a proper roof for once.
The next morning, John woke up alone without any sign of Albert. Upon entering the kitchen, he found a note in Albert’s writing saying that he took a trip to the post office and that he didn’t wish to disturb John.
Retreating back to the main room, John couldn’t help but study the odd things that cluttered the space. There were devices strewn about that he couldn’t name if he was asked to. No doubt more equipment Albert used for his photography. The whole house was like a museum that continued to mesmerize John with each following day.
Out of the corner of his eye, a picture on the front page of a newspaper caught his attention. He furrowed his brow, thinking his eyes to deceive him in seeing who he thought it was. Moving closer to the desk it lay on, he felt his blood run cold at the realization that he had been right. There, staring at John was a picture of Nico. His eyes dropped to the writing underneath which stated:
After months on the run, the Van der Linde Boys are still evading capture. With the events of the Blackwater Massacre still fresh in our minds and the murder of the innocent Heidi McCourt (pictured above), along with many others, we wonder why they are still at large.
John had to still his hand as he read, not believing the words on the paper. There was that name again, ‘Heidi McCourt’. It taunted him from the page, making him wonder where it had come from. Who the hell is Heidi McCourt?
Whoever she was, she wasn’t Nico. That much John was sure of. And as much as he was curious about the name, he was more annoyed at how clever Dutch’s story was. If Nico was working for the law, or the Pinkertons, there was no way they would admit publicly having her be associated with them. Her death would’ve only been tying up a loose end. Of course, John knew it was all a lie, wishing there was some way to clear her name. He wished he knew more.
Turning the page over, he continued reading under the bold headline of:
TWENTY-SEVEN DEAD AT THE VALENTINE SHOOTOUT. EIGHT LOCALS.
Eight locals?! John wondered to himself. Shaken to the core of how this was caused by the event he was present for only a couple of days prior.
Even if these locals did wield guns in defense of their town, he was sure Dutch would be able to avoid shooting one, never mind eight innocent people. His heart dropped a little at the thought of Arthur being there, too.
The Valentine shootout is believed to be the result of the earlier robbery of a Leviticus Cornwall transport coach, catching the attention of the Pinkerton Detective Agency in the investigation to whether the train robbery and Blackwater Massacre are in any relation to the same group of outlaws.
He tossed the newspaper aside, worked up from the anger that rose inside him. This was all Dutch’s fault. He was becoming this unstoppable force backed by greed and foolish choices that would be the undoing of their gang. It would only be a matter of time before his vicious nature would unravel out of control.
So overwhelmed by the contents of the newspaper, John almost didn’t notice the sound of Albert entering through the front door.
“Ah, John! Good morning, sir. Are you well?”
John gave a nod, “sure.” He tried to give the man a convincing smile as he forced his gloomy thoughts from his mind. He noticed a small parcel in Albert’s hands, curiosity piquing his interest.
“You pick something up?”
Albert looked down at the small package as if he had forgotten about it, “oh, yes! Some of my prints arrived today, would you like to see them?”
John nodded enthusiastically, and watched as Albert gently undid the string that tied the wrapping together. He then came over to sit beside John.
Albert unfolded the papers to reveal a short stack of photographs, picking up the first one which depicted a buck. Its head was up, with knowing eyes that seemed to stare right at John. His antlers reached toward the skies, complementing the mountainous terrain he stood in front of.
John couldn’t help from reaching to take the photo from Albert’s hand to inspect it more closely. “That’s amazing!”
“Ah, yes, I remember that buck. Gave me quite the challenge, he did. I originally was after capturing a deer, but couldn’t seem to shake this one’s attention. The nerve of the animal, tried to run me over! And almost succeeded, too.”
Albert lifted the second picture, “see, here she is.” He handed it over for John to see. Sure enough, this one showed a deer nibbling some berries from a bush, completely unaware of the camera.
“Oh,” Albert gave a little chuckle, already having moved onto the next picture. I think you’ll quite enjoy this one.”
John accepted the photo he held out, seeing an action shot of a coyote running off with Albert’s bag hanging from its mouth.
“Cheeky little thing, that one. If it weren’t for your friend, I’d have never gotten my things back!”
John looked up at Albert, “Arthur help you with this one?”
“He did, indeed! And with another, too. Let me see if I can find it,” Albert started shuffling through the photos in his hand, but John was distracted by the next picture in the stack. He blinked, smiling to himself a little as he came to the conclusion that this one was by far his favourite.
He gingerly picked it out from the stack, Albert letting him as he continued to search.
“It’s got to be in this batch somewhere, I know I sent that reel out. You see, there were these God forsaken creatures that almost killed me! Managed to snap a few good ones before they tried ripping me to shreds, though…” Albert continued talking, but John tuned out as he studied the photo in his hands.
It was a picture of Arthur, who was smiling. It was a genuine one, which proved to be a rare sight for John. Somehow the image alone made him feel butterflies in his stomach, the way his smile reached his eyes with how they crinkled. He was captured from the waist up, holding one hand on his hip and the other up like he was about to say something. It was a candid shot where he wasn’t looking at the camera, which probably made sense as to why Albert was able to print it. If Arthur had known, there was no way he would’ve let him.
John couldn’t tear his eyes away, Arthur’s image was always well captured in photographs. Most of the pictures they had growing up were group photos where no one smiled, not like this. This one rendered John in awe, the exact moment living on forever through the photograph. It made him wish he could go back in time and capture some of his favourite memories together.
“Here it is!” Albert produced a photo from the pile before noticing John’s attention on the one he already held.
Albert leaned over to look at it. “Right! I almost forgot about that picture, I got it printed with the intention of gifting it to Mister Morgan. He’s been so helpful with my foolish endeavour, I really felt I owed him.”
“Well, if I know Arthur I’m sure he enjoyed helping you, he’s too curious not to. He’s got so many stories about the people he’s met, I’m not at all surprised that you’d be one of them.”
Albert gave a little chuckle, “he is definitely an interesting man. Nevertheless, would you mind passing it on to him? I’d very much appreciate it.”
“Sure, yeah..” John got up to find his satchel, placing the photograph inside with the intention of giving it to Arthur. Eventually, that is. For now, he thought he might hang onto it. And even as Albert went on to ramble about the other animal encounters he’d experienced while taking their likeness, John thought about how none could compare.
A steady knock at the door made John suddenly look up and Albert almost jump out of his skin with an “Ahh!” Taking a moment to compose himself, he stood and went to answer the door.
“Hello, can I help you?”
“Hi. Is John here?”
John peered over to see a familiar form stood at the entrance, making him stand up abruptly. “Charles, that you?”
Charles noticed John, giving him a relieved smile before his eyes darted back to Albert.
“This is Albert Mason, a good man. He’s been helping me get back on my feet these past couple days.”
Charles gave Albert a stern nod, “Seems we owe you our thanks.”
Albert bashfully waved it away, “it was of no trouble, I assure you, sir.”
“Please, Charles.”
John swore he could see Albert’s cheeks heat up a little as he continued, “Well then, would you like to come in for a cup of tea, Charles?”
“Thank you, but I’ve come to collect John and I’m sure he’s eager to return-”
“Yes! Yes,” John interrupted, “how is everyone? Did everyone make it okay?”
“Everyone’s fine. Abigail and the little one are safe, Arthur was the last to join us.”
John let out a breath, “good, that’s good.”
Thank God, he was relieved that everyone made it in one piece. A new flood of anticipation for returning overcoming him from the news.
“I’ll let you say goodbye,” Charles said as he gave him and Albert a nod, retreating to the horses.
John turned back to Albert, “thank you, for everything. How can I ever repay you for the kindness you’ve shown me?”
Albert gave a modest shake of his head, “please, as I told your friend, it was of no bother. Might I say, I rather enjoyed the company.”
“Well then, it’s been a pleasure,” John held out his hand to Albert, who looked down at it for a brief moment before clamping it in a firm grasp. The other man’s eyes glistened a little before he pulled John into a hug. Caught off by the gesture, John hesitated before giving Albert a slight pat on the back.
Albert pulled back, already apologizing profusely, “sorry, John, forgive me. I just-I hope the world treats you a little kinder in future.”
John smiled slightly at that. Albert was a kind man that he was grateful to have met, even if it was under such a terrible circumstance.
“And please,” he continued, “if you ever find yourself in the area, do not hesitate to stop by.”
John nodded, “of course. Thanks again, Albert.”
Walking back into the makeshift bedroom in Albert’s cabin, he took one last look around the room. He’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t miss the comfort of the place.
Grabbing his gunbelt from where it sat idle for the past few days, John secured it around his waist before picking up his coat and satchel. As he left the cabin for the last time, John found Charles waiting by his horse for him.
He looked up when John approached, “ready to go?”
John gave a firm nod, climbing on the back of Old Boy.
“Let’s go.”
Charles took the lead, mounting and walking his horse in the direction of the pathway away from the secluded cabin. John looked back to Albert, who stood at the entrance. He waved them off, and John returned the farewell with a flick of his hand.
The two spurred their horses, leaving the cabin behind them in their pursuit of the main path. They eased into a steady pace through the countryside, careful to avoid any roads that were known to be busier.
John forced Old Boy to ride up next to Charles, “how’s the new spot? Is it a good place to lie low?”
Charles gave a stiff nod, “It’s definitely more secluded than the last place. I found it myself.” He looked over to John, “figured I could be the one to show you.”
Charles turned his gaze back to the road ahead of them once more. John noted the way his expression seemed more hardened than usual, brows creased to indicate his loss in thought. It wasn’t unlike Charles to be reserved, but John sensed something was bothering him.
“I’m glad you’re the one who came to get me, it’s good to see you.”
Charles’ features softened somewhat as his attention focused back on John, “of course. I’m glad you’re okay, do you remember what happened?”
John frowned slightly at the thought of what happened back in Valentine. “Not much, I, uh, wasn’t with Dutch n’ Arthur when everything went down with Cornwall.”
“I heard. I’m glad Arthur found you. From how he described the whole thing, you’re lucky to have gotten out of there.”
John nodded, feeling his skin crawl from the recent memory. “How much did he tell you?”
“Only a little.” Charles paused for a moment before adding, “he seemed.. off when we spoke.”
“How do you mean?”
Charles took his time in replying as if choosing his words carefully. “He seemed a little wary of how Dutch handled the situation. I don’t know if you heard about it after you escaped but they were calling it a bloodbath… awfully similar to Blackwater.” His deepened frown returned, “but this time it was just Dutch.”
“And Arthur,” John added, though it sounded almost like a question.
“Hmm.” Charles’ face screwed up slightly, “I don’t know. To be honest, Arthur made it sound like he got out of there pretty fast.”
John let the thought sink in, surprised when Charles broke the silence once more.
“We’re supposed to be avoiding trouble, not causing more. What was Dutch thinking? Why didn’t he just get out of there as soon as he could?”
It was rare to see Charles so shaken, taken aback by the fluctuation in his voice. “Where will it end? The moving, the running?”
He still avoided looking directly at John, making him think he wasn’t asking him as much as just voicing his concern. John could tell it upset him. Charles had only been running with the gang for half a year or so, clearly unimpressed by the recent direction the gang had taken with their poor choices.
John swallowed, wanting to reassure Charles but finding it hard to come up with anything to say. John was probably the worst of the lot of them to consult in, having no kind words to offer about Dutch.
Charles gave a heavy sigh, “I’m sorry, brother. You’ve got enough on your mind, I’m sure.”
“Charles.”
“Hmm?”
John slowed his horse until he came to a steady halt. Charles didn’t notice immediately, turning his head back toward John when he didn’t answer right away. He stopped his own horse, a look of interest dawning his face.
“What is it, John?”
Pressing his lips together nervously, John thought carefully about what he would say next.
“Back in Valentine, when Cornwall showed up… I was by some of his men. They threw me into an alley beside the saloon Dutch and Arthur were held up at.”
Attentively, Charles listened to what John was saying, waiting for him to continue. John drew a shaky breath.
“I could hear them talking from where I was tied up and… I thought Dutch was going to cut me loose, I thought-” he broke off the sentence as his throat tightened.
“What you went through,” Charles started, his voice softer than a moment earlier. “I couldn’t even imagine. It was horrible what those men did to you. But to feel abandoned by your family… John, I am so sorry.”
John shook his head, blinking away the tears that had started to form in his eyes.
“One of the reasons I joined this gang was because of the loyalty shared amongst its members,” Charles continued. “Dutch always said that no one gets left behind, and Arthur managed to get you out of there-”
“What Arthur did isn’t what I’m worried about. It’s Dutch, Charles. I fear if Arthur wasn’t there, Dutch would have left me behind.”
The words hung in the air, suddenly making John so aware of how bold they were now that they were spoken out loud. He studied Charles, scared that he may react as Arthur did when he mentioned the same concern over Dutch.
He hadn’t meant to admit his feelings about Dutch so openly to Charles, knowing the man respected him as much as most of their peers did. John had been reserved about Dutch all of his life but had become so overwhelmed with what happened in the past couple months that his actions had become brash.
Charles gave a slow nod, “I understand your concern.”
John exhaled in relief, not realizing the breath he held in anticipation, “you do?”
“Dutch didn’t speak about what really happened at Blackwater, and now he avoids talking about what he did in Valentine. It has me questioning his methods. Arthur seems a little shaken, and now you, too? I can’t ignore something like that.”
John felt a sudden buzz from his words, almost not trusting his ears to believe what he was hearing be true. “What do you think will happen next?”
Charles let out a deep sigh through his nose.
“I trust Dutch.”
John’s eyes dropped. He knew he did, yet the statement still dealt a hard blow.
“But I trust you, too. And Arthur.”
His eyes flickered back up to Charles, widened in surprise.
“For all I know, Dutch may not have had another choice. In Valentine and in Blackwater. But I think I’ll be keeping a closer eye on things. And if you notice anything, tell me. I will be speaking with Arthur, too.”
He straightened Taima back on the road, signaling that the conversation was over for now. “Come on, we should get going.”
With that, Charles urged his horse to continue moving forward. John followed, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than a moment before. To know that Charles had the slightest shred of doubt about Dutch made John want to cry from relief.
The thought that Dutch’s risky actions finally had repercussions, even if they were minuscule, gave John the tiniest flicker of hope that ignited inside his chest. The feeling was a foreign one that John hadn’t been acquainted with in a long time. His mind was racing at the possibilities of what it could mean, that maybe there was change on the horizon.
With all that in mind, he couldn’t help but feel a little scared, too. After the years of abuse he’d received from Dutch and losing the only people who could do anything about it, John truly believed he could do nothing but accept it. But now, now he didn’t feel as alone as he did before.
Pushing down his thoughts, he tried not to get ahead of himself. He didn’t want to get his hopes up over the matter, so, for now, he focused his mind on his and Charles’ surroundings.
The low sunlight dappled John’s skin through the sparse branches above them as they made their way through another cluster of trees. The forests they found themselves in now weren’t as dense as where Albert’s cabin lay tucked away and had a different look to them.
The air was hotter, with a humidity that made John’s shirt cling to his back as they rode to their new camp. The path in front of them turned to a dusty red and seemed to reflect in the sky above them. Or perhaps it was the evening casting the earth in its warm glow. Either way, John felt like he was somewhere far from where they once were.
He thought that they must be getting close now, seeing a white wooden sign pop up ahead of them. He glanced over it as they passed by, the paint chipped from being weather worn.
WELCOME TO THE STATE OF LEMOYNE
“You guys fled to a completely different state?” John turned to ask Charles.
“Yeah, better safe than sorry. We’re near the water up this way, it’s a good spot.” Charles nodded in the direction of where their new camp was pitched, steering his horse on a small pathway that led into another heavily wooded grove. John would’ve completely overlooked it otherwise, but once they continued deeper into the shade of the overhanging branches, the path widened into a clearing just before the shore of an endless lake.
"Clemans Point," Charles stated to John at their arrival.
He could make out the familiar bustle of people strung about. Their tents and wagons were more spaciously placed than at Horseshoe Overlook, with more room for the horses, too. A thick, old looking tree was planted right in the middle, providing a promising shelter from the hot weather they would be experiencing here.
John followed Charles to a nearby hitching post, sliding off to secure Old Boy to it. He’d only just managed a tight enough knot when someone came charging toward him.
“John? John! Oh, thank God!”
Abigail threw her arms around John, making him stumble back a step before catching his balance.
She was off of him just as fast, holding him at an arm’s length, “you’re alive!”
John nodded, “so are you.”
Abigail made a noise that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a stifled cry, her eyes glistening as she smiled widely at him.
“How’s Jack?”
“He’s good, he’ll be even better now that you’re back. Come, are you hungry? There’s still some stew for you.”
She took his arm, leading him through their new camp. John looked around, his brow furrowing slightly.
“Is Arthur-”
“He’s out with Dutch and Hosea,” she interrupted him before he could finish, giving him a knowing look. “I’ll tell you more once we get you some food.”
His shoulders fell, giving in as she pulled him along. On one hand, he was glad Dutch wasn’t around to watch him like a hawk, but on the other, he was a little disappointed that Arthur wasn’t around for his return. Things would likely go back to how they were before. As if the moment shared between him and Arthur at Albert’s cabin never happened and would never be spoken about again.
The simple task of getting a hot bowl of stew from the cooking pot to his tent proved harder than he thought it would. As Abigail brought him over, he wouldn’t stop getting interrupted by the other gang members.
Some of the girls called out to say how happy they were to see him again, followed by Reverend Swanson, who stumbled by to say the same. He then began quoting a verse from the bible that John was sure he wasn’t reciting right. Only to become distracted by something else and finally leave John alone. Then there was Sadie, who practically jumped him, wearing a smile he wasn’t too used to seeing from her.
“John! You’re back, we missed you!”
She didn’t hug him like how some of the others had, which he was a little relieved of since he wasn’t used to the sudden amount of affection. Instead, she gave him a pat on the shoulder.
“I have to say, I’m glad to be back.”
She looked different from the last time he’d seen her, wearing a bright mustard yellow blouse and dark brown pants with a worn looking gun belt loosely buckled at her hips.
“You look good, Sadie.”
Her expression was a little skeptical at first, not knowing the sincerity behind John’s compliment. When he gave her a little reassuring nod, her smile reappeared.
“Thanks! Arthur and I went shopping and I thought I’d get myself a pair of pants, since most of the men around here don’t do a very good job of wearin’ them.”
He gave a laugh, “you’re right about that.”
He barely had time to say goodbye to her before Abigail whisked him away again. Javier tried to call out to John, but she wasn’t having any of it.
“You two can bond once he’s had something to eat! For now, you shut up and play your damn music!”
The last thing John saw before being shoved into his tent was a distraught looking Javier clenching onto his guitar.
The world muffled around him once he was inside the familiar canvas walls. He didn’t think he would miss it, yet looking around to find his few belongings struck a little homesickness within him.
The few books he owned were stacked neatly on top of his clothing chest, no doubt by Abigail. Some other odds and ends of his belongings lay organized on his side table.
“Thanks,” John breathed out to Abigail once he sat down on his bed with his bowl.
She sat in the chair across from him, “eat.”
He did so, scarfing down Pearson’s stew faster than he ever had before. It almost tasted good from how hungry he was.
All the while, Abigail watched him, even once he’d finished and set his bowl aside.
“So,” he broke the silence. “How have things been?”
“Tense,” Abigail pressed her lips together, eye contact not breaking his. “People weren’t too happy to be moving again so soon. Especially under the circumstance of doing so.”
“I see,” John fidgeted with his fingers.
Abigail gave an amused huff, smiling at the corners of her mouth as she dropped her gaze.
“Arthur’s fine.”
“I wasn’t-”
“It’s okay, I know you’re wondering about him. I’m just teasing you by avoiding it,” her eyes were back on his, holding a mischievous glint within them. The amusement faded slightly, “he told me about what happened with you. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I am, only because of Arthur.”
She nodded, suddenly so serious, “thank God. I was scared when he showed up alone, not knowing what could possibly have happened to you.”
“I’m okay now,” he tried to reassure her.
“I know,” she let out a breath. “Waiting around was the worst part. I’m just so glad you’re back now.”
“Did Arthur say anything else?”
Abigail shook her head, “no, he mostly just checked in with me and the boy, made sure we were doing alright. He talked a little with Dutch, the two weren’t seemin’ too friendly toward one another when we first settled here.”
John tried to imagine how that must have looked, finding it hard to do so. Even though he knew Charles wasn’t lying to him about the fact that Arthur was clearly affected by what happened in Valentine, it was still hard to believe Arthur and Dutch butting heads over it.
A sudden thought occurred to John, confusion knitting his brows together. “If they don’t seem to be getting along too well, how come he’s out with Dutch and Hosea? What’re they doing?”
Abigail rolled her eyes, “they’ve gone fishing.”
His frown only deepened, wondering what the hell Arthur was doing by going out fishing with Dutch. A little offended at the notion, he tried not to let it show as he urged Abigail to continue, “they did?”
“I know, I know,” she raised her hands like even she didn’t get why they thought now was the right time for it. “The thing is, I think it was an olive branch from Dutch. This isn’t just any member of the gang, it’s Arthur we’re talking about. I don’t think Dutch wants to lose the trust Arthur has for him.”
John let the thought sink in. That sounded like something Dutch would do, and it angered him.
For a moment, he thought about telling Abigail about Valentine, and how Dutch didn’t hesitate to leave him behind. But he bit his tongue, the last thing he wanted was her going after Dutch with the full intention of ripping him apart.
“Hey,” Abigail tried to regain his attention, her expression displaying a worry as if she could read his thoughts. “Arthur’s smart, if he’s worried about how Dutch is handling things he’ll speak up. Hosea’s no fool either, he’s been keeping Dutch in check for years.”
John nodded, but it felt hollow. He knew Abigail was trying her best to reassure him, but he couldn’t stop from thinking about how deep it ran. If Dutch convinces Arthur to look past this… he wouldn’t know what to think.
He stared out of the sliver of the tent’s entrance, completely lost to the present. Not knowing what he expected to see outside, as if he might catch a glimpse of Arthur. Like the man would appear out of thin air just from being talked about.
“I know you care about him.”
John’s head snapped back to Abigail, “what’re you talking about?”
She gave a soft smile, “Arthur.”
He blinked, sputtering over his words in an attempt to respond, “well, I mean yeah, I-we’ve known each other a long time-I just mean I trust him as a fellow member of the gang-”
“I’m no fool, John, I see the way you look at him.”
Panic consumed John completely. He stared at Abigail wide eyed and short of breath, his thoughts running a mile a minute. John had never said the fact out loud, even repressing ever really fully comprehending it internally. It came as such a shock for Abigail to say it, seizing him because of how deep he had buried that part of himself.
He quickly tried to disprove her statement, but all that came out was an incoherent noise, suddenly not knowing how to string a sentence together. He felt heat rise to his cheeks, not even able to look at Abigail directly anymore.
“See, you’re getting all flustered just talking about him!” She held up a hand to hide her laughter.
“No, I’m not!” John yelled at her, jolting upright.
She stood too, shock taking over her features which immediately morphed into concern, “hey, it’s okay!”
“Did you tell anyone?!” John blurted out, still consumed by his fright.
“No, no of course not!” Abigail hesitantly reached a hand out to put on John’s arm. He let her, both of them lowering down in their seats again, then retracted her hand.
“You can’t say anything, please, Abigail, you can’t.”
“I won’t, John. Hey,” she moved so John was forced to look at her, “I would never do that to you.”
He nodded, swallowing dryly, “okay.”
When he thought his heart rate had returned to normal, another thought struck him. “But I don’t understand, didn’t you think that…we?” he pointed between the two of them.
“Loved each other?” She gave a little huff, “I hate to say it but you didn’t exactly sweep me off my feet, John Marston.”
He just stared at her, completely dumbfounded.
“Buuut I do think that deep down you care about me as much as I care about you. Sure, at one point I might’ve hoped for more, but I don’t feel that way anymore as much as you don’t.”
She moved forward to carefully put a hand on his arm again, this time her grip firm. “All I want is for you to provide for Jack and I. I’m not asking for us to be this perfect family, just to be there for us.”
“I, yeah but-are you okay with that? Me being with…” he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence out loud.
“I want you to be happy, John.” There was a short pause before she continued, “you know there’s nothing wrong with you because of that, right?”
For however gentle her words were, he almost fell completely apart from them. His face contorted from an overwhelming sense of emotion that rendered him unable to respond.
Abigail was sitting before him, fully aware of who John was, and completely accepting of it. He didn’t think anyone could ever understand, yet somehow she did.
Before he knew what he was doing, he pulled her into a tight hug. He clung onto her, almost as surprised as she was by the gesture. It wasn’t like him to do something like this, but he felt there was no other way he could have expressed his gratitude towards her.
She pulled back from their embrace, but still held onto his arms, “I have to say. You and Arthur, it’s actually kinda sweet.”
Her voice was soft when she said it, making John want to die from embarrassment.
“Jesus Christ, woman-”
The opening to the tent abruptly whipped aside, interrupting them and drawing their attention. At the entrance stood Arthur, wearing an easy smile that immediately fell when his eyes landed on John and Abigail holding each other.
John quickly dropped his arms, “Arthur-”
“Sorry, I, uh, didn’t mean to interrupt, I’ll leave you two to it.”
“Actually,” Abigail shot up from where she was sitting. “I was just leaving.”
She gave John a brief look as she moved to exit the tent, “if you’ll excuse me.” She slipped past Arthur, leaving him to awkwardly stay behind.
Silence followed when neither of them said anything, only to be broken by Arthur when it had become painfully obvious.
“Well, I just heard you’d come back and wanted to check that you’re alright, which you seem to be so I’ll just be going then.” He was gone before he’d even finished what he was saying, the tent flap falling into place after his rushed escape.
John let out a heavy sigh, letting his head fall into his hands. He cursed himself for being such a damn mess, knowing that that could have gone way better.
#morston#arthur morgan/john marston#arthur morgan x john marston#rdr2 fanfic#morston fanfic#Arthur/John#jarthur
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whumptober 2019
Day Three: Delirium
Hi Friends! Ironically, I'm delirious with a fever right now. Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Day Two: Explosion
Summary: Peter strikes off on his own not heeding the consequences to rescue a friend.
He should have listened to Mr. Stark. If only his pride hadn’t gotten in the way, they could have went about this in a procedural manner. They could have rescued him and been back in time for dinner. Instead he let the sleepless nights and being talked over compound inside of him. He let himself storm off thinking that he could do everything himself.
And why couldn’t he? He was Spiderman after all. It was a fact that the Avengers always seemed to forget when they were talking tactics for missions. They never forgot his age though. They never forgot that he was still in high school and technically a Junior Avenger or Avenger in training or, worst of all, Baby Avenger.
At first the nicknames didn’t bother him. He didn’t care as long as the word Avenger was in there somewhere. To be included in the group at any capacity launched him over the moon but somehow along the way the nicknames turned mocking. There was a hint of derision that he couldn’t help as well or do as much because of it. Peter had to control a flinch anytime someone said one of the names. It wasn’t his fault he was young.
Mr. Stark defended him against the others. His savior always came to his defense but the others started getting angry with the man. What person took a fourteen-year-old kid to Germany to fight? His hands would tremble when they brought that argument up. It was a long time ago and he proved himself over and over again; at least he thought he did.
That was why when Rhodey said he couldn’t go on this latest mission it tore him up. The man was like a cool uncle to him. He was the one that always treated him as a person rather than something too fragile to deal with. He spoke clearly and, as much as he hated to admit it, logically. From a tactical aspect he shouldn’t go, but his hackles rose and to his mortification Peter snapped at him.
He remembered the way Rhodey’s eyes widened only to calmly explain why he couldn’t come. How he wasn’t trained for this type of mission. That there were aspects the others in the group were better prepared for but none of that registered. He said Peter couldn’t go and that was all he heard. The others looked at him with concern but he ignored them to turn to Mr. Stark. Looking back on it now he realized how childish the action was; when daddy says no to something you turn right to mommy and ask the same thing. His eyes plead with Mr. Stark but in the end he sided with Rhodey.
He gave the last refusal and that was final.
His fingers crushed together and he stormed out of the room not caring that he pushed the door so hard the handle was crushed into the wall. He didn’t care that he could hear the talk, not even quiet whispers, from the other Avengers behind him. Peter went straight to the roof in order to cool down. Winter was around the corner and his breath smoked out of his mouth.
Everyone was being so nonchalant about the whole thing but this was Loki. He was Thor’s brother and they were being their usual selves and moving so slow. Sure, Loki technically wasn’t an Avenger but he helped them sometimes. The information he passed along helped everyone on more than one mission. Thor was resplendent whenever Loki showed up and even Mr. Stark didn’t seem to hate him anymore. The others were a little wearier but Peter could see him trying to be civil. Peter liked his humor at least.
His hands gripped the railing but he released it before he damaged to the metal. Mr. Stark would not be happy if the whole building was destroyed in a fit of anger. Peter breathed out again and leaned forward cradling his chin in his palm.
He thought back to the first time that they met.
It was one of those fancy charity parties that Mr. Stark would throw sometimes. The Tower sparkled as people milled around talking about whatever fancy things adults did.
He hadn’t wanted to come but Mr. Stark wanted to introduce his intern to some competitors. He said he wanted to ‘show off that he had the best intern and make them all red with jealousy’. Peter arrived in some of the nicest clothes he owned, blue dress pants that tapered off above the ankle and a nice button down shirt. May wanted him to dress shoes but he opted for converse. As soon as he got there he realized he should have listened to May. His blush should have been permanently on his face it was there so often through the night.
The amount of people attending dwindled down and Mr. Stark got pulled away to talk with someone so he made his escape to the bar looking for some water. He stood to the back, waiting for the bartender to look over from where they were talking to someone else. Peter looked at the heels of one of the women at the bar and frowned at his own comfortable shoes. He waited some more and clasped his arm in front of him, his fingers playing with the end of his sleeves.
He stared decidedly forward when he felt a presence behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck raised and he stepped closer to the bar. The person stepped forward and Peter swallowed as his eyes bore into the bartender. Maybe he could just go to his room?
“You must be the famous Peter Parker.” A smooth voice spoke behind him and Peter turned, plastering a smile on his face, and nodded. He was extra cautious at events like this to represent Mr. Stark in a positive way.
A tall woman with blonde hair stepped forward. She was beautiful and Peter had the urge to make sure his hair was still in place. He quelled the urge and fidgeted with his sleeves.
“I’m Cassandra Paen. Nice to meet you.” The woman brought her hand forward and Peter waited a moment before shaking it. He noticed the maroon manicure on her hands and again fought the compulsion to make sure his hands weren’t dirty.
“Nice to meet you as well, Ms. Paen. I hope you enjoy the night.” He managed to smile at least semi-convincingly and turned to walk away when he felt a hand on his arm stopping his movement.
If he wanted, Peter could have removed the hand with no effort. He could have done it quickly and with no pain or with all his strength as he could manage but he didn’t. Instead Peter smoothed his frown out and turned back toward the woman noting the frown she did nothing to hide.
“Peter, I can call you that right?” Peter nodded unenthusiastically. “I wanted to talk to you about a job.”
“I have a job Ms. Paen and I’m quite happy, thank you though.”
“A job for Spiderman.”
At that statement Peter’s smile froze and then melted off under the heated glare Ms. Paen was sending him. No outsiders knew he was Spiderman. Only Mr. Stark and the Avengers knew. And how did she know? No one was supposed to know!
The women smiled and added: “There now I have your attention. Why don’t we find a place more… private to talk?”
Peter felt sick and didn’t notice the hand on his arm slid around his back until he was pulled tight against the woman’s side. He looked around trying to see someone he knew, anyone at all. The bartender continued talking to the couple at the end of the bar and the room was otherwise vacated.
“Now Peter. You’re such a talented young man and I can’t help thinking we could work so well together.” Her hand squeezed Peter’s arm and he could feel her nails slowly move in a circle.
“Look I should be going. I don’t know what you’re talking about or what you think your talking about but you’re mistaken.” Ms. Paen laughed and continued to drag Peter out of the room and down the hallway.
His heart was pounding. All Peter could think about was how easy it would be to move away from the arm holding him and run but he stayed pliant while they walked. Something stopped him from moving away.
They made it to the hallway and Ms. Paen still didn’t let go. Why wouldn’t she let go? All he knew was that Peter didn’t want to be alone with this woman, whoever she was. He took in a deep breath before stopping causing the woman to stop as well.
“I really need to go back. I think you’re confused and you need to leave. I’m supposed to meet someone and they are waiting for me now”
Peter’s voice shook as he stared at the floor.
The arm unwrapped from his body and the woman suddenly appeared much taller than she had a moment ago. She stepped forward, backing Peter into the wall, and loomed over him. Peter’s breath stilled. His fingers trembled against his pants and he felt so small, so weak.
“Listen here you little snot… I know what you are and if you don’t cooperate you can’t even imagine what we could do to…”
“Is there a problem here?” Both their heads turned to the sound of the voice and Peter’s knees felt weak with relief.
Before this he had only seen Loki at a distance but he knew he was Thor’s brother and that he was reformed. Mostly reformed. He smiled widely at the newcomer and Loki’s eyes searched his face for a moment before switching over to the other occupant of the hall. Ms. Paen smirked and moved her hand to rest on the wall so that Peter’s face was blocked from view.
“Nothing at all. If you’ll be on your way we were just having a private conversation.”
It was quiet and his stomached clenched. What if he left? He had to leave now. Peter gathered up the crumbs of courage left and spoke up. He wasn’t sure how but the woman’s face when he did still haunted him.
“I’m so glad you found me.” He said from behind the arm. “I know we were supposed to meet in the lab but we can walk there together.”
Peter ducked under the arm before it could grab him again and made his way to Loki. He played the part perfectly and a lazy smile crossed his face. He bowed shallowly to Ms. Paen and bid her goodnight. Peter couldn’t look back; every fiber of his being needed to leave and never see her perfect blonde hair again. Loki fell into step beside him.
His knees shook and he put his hand in Loki’s, suppressing his surprise at how cold there were. They walked in silence and he hoped he couldn’t feel the trembling in his fingers. Peter’s vision tunneled and he couldn’t think straight. He was grateful when Loki took the lead and steered them back to the party. Before they entered he stopped and looked Peter over. Peter stared at his face noting that no emotions crossed it besides the barest of flashes through his eyes. It was to fast for Peter to decipher.
“Stark’s in there now. I would appreciate my name not be mentioned.” He smiled at his dazed nod and left without another word. Peter stumbled into the room and into Mr. Stark’s care. He never thought to wonder what Loki was doing at the Tower that night.
Peter never mentioned Loki’s name but kept his assistance at the forefront of his mind. Over the months after their first encounter he would see him here and there. He was always alone and curiosity pricked him. What was Loki doing and why did no one else seem to know he was there?
On several instances he tried to approach him but he ignored his greetings. His pride hurt, he thought two could play and started ignoring him. This did the trick and piqued Loki’s interest. Soon he found he would pop up in the elevator and other places making it his mission to annoy Peter.
All in all, Peter found that he couldn’t hate him even if they met in a different way. He even started to like him. May would have said it was in his nature to see the good in people but he truly thought that Loki was different than what people thought. Deep down maybe but it was still there.
They came to have long talks about everything and anything. He wasn’t sure what Loki thought of him but Peter began to think of him as a friend and that was why he was so upset when everyone, even Thor, weren’t worried when Loki was taken. They displayed the pictures of the facility where he was kept during the meeting and Peter heard what the others were saying about the place to know that it was serious.
He was there. Alone.
Peter took it upon himself with all the bad decision making skills of a stereotypical teenager to rescue him himself. That’s how he found himself commandeering one of Mr. Stark’s jets, landing (crashing) said jet into the building, and ending up in a cell sans Loki. His hands were restrained in some type enforced metal and try as he might he couldn’t break out of the cuffs.
One of the first things they did was take off his suit so he was stuck in biker shorts and a thin under armor top. He could feel the air rushing into the cell making the hair on his arms stand on end. Pretty soon his fingers tingled at the ends. Once in a while there were footsteps out in the hallway but other than that it was quiet. His stomach clenched around nothing. Time went by but there was no way to keep track.
He coughed, wincing at the hoarseness now that the cell was finally free from his voice, and felt him eyes droop. No! His head snapped back. There was no way he could fall asleep. What if someone came in when he was sleeping and … who knows what could happen?
Peter snorted to himself. Anything would be better than being alone at this point. The white walls surrounding him were sterile and he missed the feel of the breeze in his hair and the smell of freshly cut grass. His mind kept flipping between thoughts but he was tired and it was hard to concentrate.
Finally the door swung open and his head tipped up. A man in a white coat wheeled in a cart into the room and toward him.
“Hiya Doc.”
The man didn’t reply but pulled up his sleeve and rubbed a cotton ball on the juncture at his elbow.
“That’s cold!” He whined.
Still nothing and he pulled out a needle. It set his heart racing.
“Don’t bring that thing near me. Stop!”
He didn’t stop and he couldn’t stop him. The metal encasing his limbs rubbed and inflamed the tender skin it was touching. He inserted the needle without looking up and Peter flinched when burning liquid was injected into his arm. The pain intensified, burning up and through his body.
“Stop.” he whispered. There was a vague image of the man walking out of the room before his head dropped forward and darkness descended.
-
A hair fell into his face and tickled his lips. He blew it away but it floated down and touched him again.
Where was he?
His neck ached when he brought it up. The white walls surrounded him and he remembered. The hair tickled his lip again and he brushed it out of the way. A gasp escaped him when he noticed his hands were free. Peter rubbed his wrists avoiding the swollen skin where the metal rubbed. He tried to stand up from the chair with haste but fell forward landing on his hands and knees.
“Ugh.” His head was pounding and his arms shook under the weight of his body. Try as he might his legs wouldn’t move from under him. With heavy breaths he started crawling to the door. The room spun around his head but he made it to the other side of the room.
“Hello?” He yelled out ignoring the burning in his throat. Peter felt shivered and felt his forehead. Sweat came off onto the back of his hand.
Peter sat against the wall next to the door periodically bringing his hand up to rap on the cold metal. It was pathetic attempt but it made him feel more in control. Why did they release him from the restraints? He lifted his arm up inspecting the small needle marks at his elbow. They could have dosed him with anything and now it was inside of him. Peter could feel it inside of him.
What did they inject him with? His arm trembled and he let it fall into his lap. His breath came out in pants. The muscles in his limbs were tired from his journey across the room. What did they inject him with? Peter got back on his hands and knees, and tried to stand up. By the time he made it to his feet he was panting and felt the sweat gathering on his lip. What did they inject him with? He raised his fist and banged it on the door. The muffled sound made him want to scream. He banged it again and again and cradled his hand against his chest. Nothing happened. What did they inject him with? His body slumped forward and came to rest on the door. Peter never felt so weak before. Not since… What did they inject him with? Not since before the spider bite.
What did they inject him with?
The trembling in his legs got worse and they gave out underneath him. His body flopped against the hard cement and he blinked away the tears gathering in his eyes.
Why didn’t he listen to Rhodey? To Mr. Stark?
Peter laughed then. They were full-bodied laughs that left him out of breath by the time he was done. The floor was cold beneath him and he let out a scream that morphed into a moan. Who cares if anyone heard, maybe they would take pity on him. His eyes closed and he drifted off as tears slid down his cheek.
The sound of the door opening woke him but he kept his eyes close. His heart pounded inside of his chest and he worried it would give him away.
“Peter?” A voice asked and his eyes flew open. A smile lit his face before he giggled.
“Loki! I knew you were here.” He said before frowning. “I found you first so the others can pound sand for all I care.”
The man opened the door further pushing his feet caught behind it. He came further into the room, kneeing before him.
“Are you alright, child?”
He stared at him a moment. He had never called him a child before now. Loki had always laughed with him before when he told him about the nicknames the others gave him. His vision tunneled on Loki’s face, the target available to pit his anger against.
“I’m not a child!” He yelled at him, his hands balled together. The smile on his face from earlier gone unnaturally fast.
Loki looked him over eyes targeting his elbow and raised his hand to feel Peter’s forehead.
“You have such cold hands. Did you knooowww?” He sang the last word and missed the way the man’s eyes narrowed as he flung his hands in the air above him.
“We need to get you out of here.”
“Okay, but you have to tell them I rescued you.” On a second attempt he managed to lift his hands and grasp Loki’s shirt pulling him closer. “Please, I wanted to rescue you and they’ll think I’m a just a stupid child. I am strong. I am.”
“Yes. Yes you are Peter. You rescued me from here after all.” Loki didn’t smile but there was a quiet ease in his eyes.
He let the tears fall. Loki’s hand wrapped around his own just as his fingers slipped through the material of Loki’s shirt while his other hand caught the back of his head before it hit the ground. He shifted his arms so that he could stand up and after several tries Loki picked him up all the way.
He wiggled in his arms and laughed at his frustrated expression.
“Stay still you infuriating…”
“You like me. I know that.” Peter lifted his arm so that he could bop his nose but misjudged the distance and pressed his chin. His head flopped back as more laughter twinkled out of him.
“I do not.” He spoke low and stepped over something. Peter looked back over Loki’s shoulder and say guns and bodies scattered on the floor. Distantly he hope they were sleeping.
“Yes, you do.”
“Do not.”
His smile faded from his face as he gazed at his harsh expression. Sadness welled up inside of him. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he really did annoy him.
“I thought we were friends?” He said, sniffling into his shoulder. Peter heard him sigh and suppressed a smile. “Come on Loki. Say it.”
He remained quiet and he tried to get out of his arms, swinging his legs. Loki held him tighter and glared at him face.
“Saaayy it. Say it!” He said in obnoxious voices.
“If you will quiet yourself?” Loki waited until he nodded. “Fine. I suppose that we are indeed not enemies and I’m not bored when we have our discussions.”
His heart panged and this time a different emotion overtook him. That was basically the sweetest thing he ever said. Peter brought his arms up and tried to hug him. He tried to say something else but the fog in his mind thickened and made him more confused.
“Where are we?” He whispered as he brought them to the top of the building, leaning Peter against a short wall. The muscles in his neck protested as he tried to look around. Loki sat next to him.
Peter was confused but he knew he was safe. He was Spiderman and if that wasn’t enough Loki the funny god was right besides him. His head rolled to the side and a sigh escaped him. He was so tired.
“Tell me a story.”
Loki’s voice floated in and out of his mind until he closed his eyes.
Peter woke up in the Medbay a pounding headache assaulting him. The memories were hazy and were not forthcoming. He blinked at the people surrounding him.
Mr. Stark was upset but winked at him when everyone else left. Rhodey apologized once he was out of the Medbay. Of course that was right before he lectured Peter about responsibility but he withstood it graciously and gave him a hug after.
Loki visited him once everyone was gone. He just sat there in silence.
“Tell me a story.” He said bored of sitting in the infirmary. His eyebrows quirked at the small laugh Loki gave at his request before launching into what had to be made up. He asked him if they were about Loki and the only response he got was a sparkle in his eye.
On the fifth day in the Medbay he gathered enough memories to piece together and when it was his nap time, he grumbled when everyone started calling it that, he stayed awake and tried to remember more.
The congratulations from everyone and the wink from Mr. Stark. They all thought he rescued Loki. That was the only way it made sense. Loki lied to them. For him. It didn’t escape his notice that no one called him one of those nicknames again.
Thor went so far as to knight him or what he thought was the equivalent to knighting someone wherever Thor was from. When he showed Loki the pin his eyes widened for a moment before he scoffed at it stating it was not impressive.
That was the second time he saved Peter and he smiled when he remembered how Loki basically admitted they were best friends.
That day when he visited, Peter was convinced he could walk through walls; he looked into his green eyes.
“Thank you.” He whispered and he smiled when Loki ignored him before launching into a story about how Thor tried to outdrink Volstagg. The thunder god didn’t stop until he was drunk out of his mind and on the ground.
Peter never did tell anyone it was really Loki that saved him. The incident set off a chain reaction through their team and slowly, with trail and error, Loki was not welcomed but tolerated by everyone. When he left to go back to his planet Peter hid on the roof. His age was far older than before but his first instinct was still to storm off.
Loki came onto the roof and stood beside him, asking for the pin that Thor gave him years ago. With only the mildest blush Peter pulled it out of his wallet and handed it over. Green smoke sunk into it and Loki put it back in Peter’s hand.
“Tell me a story.” Loki said and when Peter began talking, his voice echoed in a pin worn and battered that Loki took out of his pocket. He threw his head back and laughed calling it an alien cell phone.
Loki looked indignant but could never come up with something cooler to call it when they used it, separated by thousands of planets.
Thank you!!!
Taglist (send me an ask if you want to be added): @verdonafrost
Day Four: Human Shield
#whumptober 2019#whumptober#no. 3#delirium#Peter parker#loki#Peter and Loki friendship#Tony stark#rhodey#marvel fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#avengers#Tw: peter gets drugged#my writing#eliza writes
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Work together to survive
Finally the first part is heeere! Sorry that you had to wait... And I'm sorry if it's bad written, it's my first au and English is not my first language!
Sorry if nothing really happens in this part, but more will happen soon!
Genre: gang au
Warnings: Well everything that includes gang au, cursing, guns, etc etc.
Words: 1.6k
Summary: Both of your gangs is getting attacked and soon you realize you have to work together to both survive and keep your positions.
It’s finally Friday night and you, Jisung and Hyunjin is walking on your streets, on your way to your own nightclub.
”Relax Y/N, you deserves to take a rest” Jisung says as he swing his arm around your shoulder ”It’s time to just, be free for a night” he winks at you and leads you towards your club.
Hyunjin walks inside first, then you and last Jisung. You walks towards your VIP corner where no one else is allowed to be, as Hyunjin walks to the bar and order some drinks.
Times passes as you’re looking out on the dance floor, feeling the smell of alcohol and smoke everywhere. You see your best friend Jisoo trying to walk through the crowd to get back to the bar. Jisoo is one of a few people you trust your life with so you gave her this job, being the boss over your night club. ”Okey everyone, just move” You almost screams so they can hear you over the music as you’re getting behind Jisoo. ”Make the way for the boss here” and everyone moved at once as they heard your voice. ”Y/N, I didn’t know you would come tonight” Jisoo says with a big smile and walks to the bar as you follow, sitting down in front of her. ”Meh, Jisung and Hyunjin thought I should take a rest and this was their idea” you laugh and looks back at the boys sitting with 2 girls and chatting. ”Really? They took you to your night club to relax?” You both laughs while she starts making a drink. ”Here, your favourit drink, and it’s on me” she gives you the drink and move on to get orderes from drunk people once again. ”Ready to go home?” A slightly drunk Jisung asks and you nod, searching after Hyunjin through all the people. As soon as you found him, you started to walk home ”Did you have fun tonight?” Hyunjin asked and you just let out a small ”hmm” and a smile ”Seems like you two had more fun founding those 2 girls” You winks and laughs, ”Hey it was nothing, they came up to us and we didn’t know what to do or say” Jisung says back and just laughs it away. Those two are never good with talking to girls, sure Hyunjin is flirty but he panics as soon as they get close. Rest of the walk home was quiet and comfortable, and soon enough you will be laying in your bed sound asleep and forgetting about this ”relaxing” day.
You feel trapped and you can’t hear anything. You look up to see that you’re in your childhood bedroom but you can’t move. You hear loud bang downstairs and you try to run, hearing your brother scream in the room next yours, but you can’t run to him. You can’t save him or protect him. You hear people run outside your door, kicks up the door to your brothers room and hears another bang. Silence once again. ”Y/N” you hear someone say ”Y/N wake up” and you slowly opens your eyes to see your brother Jeongin shaking you and calling for you. ”Jeongin, I thought I lost you” You sob and wraps your arms around him. ”It was a nightmare Y/N, I am right here and will never leave you” Your brother say as he holds you. ’These damn nightmares is coming back again’ you thought for yourself.
The next day started off good with Jisung making pancakes for breakfast. You may be the leader of one of the biggest gangs in Seoul but you still love pancakes for breakfast. ”Thank you Jisung” you says as he gives you your plate ”What will happen today? Any news on the unknown guys we saw a few days ago?” You look at Seungmin and he clears his throat. ”Actually yes, I saw them once again last night when you were on the nightclub” he speaks up and looks at you ”close to our house” he gets quiet and looks at your angry yet confused reaction. ”If they’re here after us, let them wait, don’t let them know that we know (Lee Know) they are here, understood?” You say and gets up to go to your bedroom. ”There is another thing you should know about too Y/N” Seungmin looks at you with fierce eyes ”Changbin and Minho from SKZ is out there again, looking around, searching for something” You looked really pissed so they all shut down and looked away. ”Do something about it. I do not want to see them here once again or ever hear about them” you say and walked away. ”Get rid of those bastards” they heard you scream from the hallway.
You went into the meeting room and looked through the cameras to see it with your own eyes that SKZ actually have the nerves to go on your streets. And there, footage from yesterday, that both Changbin and Minho have been walking around, laughing and you saw that they actually is searching for something. ”But what?” You asked yourself and tried to find them on other cameras. You only found that they searched for something but actually never met someone or found anything. And then you saw them jump in a black van. You paused for a minute and just stared and then zooming in on the driver. ”Chan” you said and smashed your hand on the table.
Days passed and you heard nothing about SKZ on your streets again, ’maybe they gave up on whatever they did?’ you thought and went on packing guns in a bag. Tonight your gang will sell guns to a big group called SVT. You have been selling guns to them for a while now and you trust them becuase they have never disappointed your gang.
You and your gang walks down to the street where you will meet up SVT. ”Hey S.coups” You say with a smile and looks at them. ”You’re alot fewer today? How come?” You say while searching through them. ”Ah the maknaes wanted to stay home and okay games, I bet you know how it is” he laughs and looks at your brother Jeongin. ”I know I know” you laugh and then turn serious. ”Here is the guns, where’s the money?” You ask as you see a guy called Joshua coming forward with a bag. You both drops your bags in the middle. Hyunjin starts to look through the money and Joshua looks through the guns. ”Everythings okey” they both say and grabs the bags. As you’re gonna grab S.coups hand and say goodbye, you see a red moving spot on him. ”Watch out” you scream and push him away as you hear a loud bang. You all hides and trying to find where it came from, they started to shoot at you again and non of you could get up. ”Where is it coming from” a guy called Jeonghan from SVT screams out but no one answers. ”Cover me” you say to S.coups and gets up. S.coups and Jisung starts shooting up and the shooting stops. You see someone moving on the roof and you start shooting up there and runs towards the house and Hyunjin follows you.
You get to the roof but there’s no one. ”Fuck” you scream out ”Where the fuck did they go and who was it” you started to get pissed and ran down again. ”They gone, I don’t know where they went” You say. ”Lets get out of here before they come here again, and we need a new place to meet” you say as you grabs the bag with money and started to walk to the car.
As soon as you got home, Seungmin ran to the computers to see if he can see the shooter from any cameras around that area. Jisung sits down and counts the money with Jeongin while you and Hyunjin sits down on the couch and talks about the night. ”What if it was the younger ones from SVT? That’s why they weren’t there?” You started, ”They would never try to shoot their leader Y/N” Hyunjin says and he’s right, they would never. ”I found something” You hear Seungmin say from the door. You all went in and watched the footage. ”Who in the whole world is that? Doesn’t look like SKZ to me” Jisung say and looked at you. ”It doesn’t, whoever it is, they know more about us than I thought. Anything more about the guys that you saw close to our house?” You asked Seungmin. ”Actually no, they haven’t been around” he answers. You sigh and walked out, and little did you guys know that the same thing happened to SKZ the same night.
Chan’s pov
We were on our way to get up some guns that we would sell to other gangs and people. We arrived to the woods to meet up SUJU but no one is there. We can’t see anyone. ”Hello? Leeteuk?? Suju?” I hear Changbin call out, but no answers. I hear something in the bushes behind us so I turn around. I see a shadow behind a tree but I don’t recognize who it is, "Everyone DOWN" I scream as I grab my gun and point it to the shadow. "Who is it and what do you want" I ask but no answer, I only see how they disappear behind the trees and runs away. Just seconds after I hear a loud bang and feels something cold on my leg and I falls down. Changbin is getting up fast and starts shooting at the one who shot against us. "Chan, your leg" I hear Felix say as he runs to me, wrapping his shirt around my leg to stop the bleeding. Changbin helps me up and walks me to the car and drives home. "Who was it and where the fuck was SUJU" Minho groans in the back. All I could think of is how gang 19 could find us, if it even was them and Y/N
#kpop#stray kids#kpop stray kids#skz#stray kids kpop#chan#hyunjin#stray kids scenario#stray kids imagine#kpop scenario#jeongin#jisung#changbin#minho#felix#seungmin#woojin#kpop fanfiction#kpop imagine#kpop fanfic#Stray kids fanfic#Stray kids gang au#Gang au#Kpop gang au
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
You Heard Me
This is how Neil discovers his soulmate.
Soulmate’s AU based on the idea that you have a quote written on your body that is important to your relationship.
You can also read it on [AO3]
As always a huge thank you to @velvetnoodle for being an amazing beta <3<3
Neil follows Andrew and the others inside the stadium. As they get closer he can hear everyone in the locker room already chatting; they enter the room and take their usual seats while they wait for Wymack to arrive and start practice.
A few moments pass, and he hears Nicky call Allison to get her attention. He sees her look up from her phone and Nicky stretching his arm to show her something on his own phone, Allison snorts and nudges Renee at her side to look at it too.
“Did you buy it?” Renee asks him after she glances at the phone.
Nicky smirks before he answers. “Of course, I couldn’t leave that beauty at the store.”
Dan looks over Renee’s shoulder to see what they’re talking about and then adds, “I like it, Nicky.”
“Thanks Cap,” Nicky answers with a bright smile, clearly satisfied with their approval.
Neil, having been at the store with Nicky, already knows what picture he’s showing the others, so he lets his eyes trail off to follow Dan’s movement as she begins to lean against Matt. As she gets settled, he sees the fond look they share for a moment and then he sees Matt bring Dan’s hand to his mouth and kiss it; Neil immediately looks away, feeling like he’s intruding. Matt and Dan had figured out they're soulmates before Neil even joined the team, he's happy that they found each other but every time he sees them together he thinks about the quote written on his chest that indicates that he has a soulmate out there too.
Neil’s soulmate mark had appeared when he was about nine. Back then, he didn't understand the quote ingrained on his skin; he knew what it represented, but he couldn’t understand the meaning behind the words. He remembers waiting for his father to leave the house before showing it to his mother. He remembers questioning her about it’s meaning only to have his shirt immediately pulled down to cover it. Growing up, Neil quickly learned to always hide his soulmate mark; in his house it represented a weakness waiting to be exploited. A means to an end.
He had spent countless nights thinking about what the words written on his body could mean, and he still isn't sure what him or his soulmate could be referring to: was it about his family, or was it about something that had happened to his soulmate?
Up until he ran away with his mother, he used to imagine meeting his soulmate and all the ways that could change his life, but by that time he figured out that whoever his soulmate was, that person was far better off without him in their life.
So, he tried to stop thinking about his soulmate. Because finding his soulmate meant a life on the run and a death sentence extended to that person as well, and Neil couldn't bear the thought of that.
After practice, Neil's quiet in the drive back to the dorm, and once there he quietly follows Andrew to the roof. Andrew takes a long hard look at him before he passes him a cigarette, he doesn’t say a word so they sit down and stare at campus beneath them.
All this thinking about soulmates makes Neil feel like a mess. He can’t help but remember the warmth on his skin when his mark first appeared; just thinking about it gives him the sudden urge to scratch his chest where it is, but he clenches his fist and doesn’t do it. What he needs to do is to stop thinking about it, so Neil closes his eyes, counts to ten in three different languages, and tries to breathe in the smell of smoke in the air to calm down.
It’s only when Andrew finally turns to his side and kisses him hard that Neil stops thinking about his soulmate, he can only think about Andrew’s lips demanding his attention.
This thing with Andrew had started only a few weeks ago. And it surprised Neil to realize he wanted it, because he had never been interested in people this way before. But there was something about Andrew, something that drew Neil to him. And he thought that maybe it was just fine to experiment with whatever this was. And it was okay if Andrew hated him.
It was easier that way.
***
Weeks pass in a blur. And one night, Neil suddenly wakes up from a nightmare. He opens his eyes and scans the room to see where he is. Once he realizes that he’s in the Fox Tower, that it had been just another nightmare, he tries to calm down his breathing.
He reminds himself that the countdown on his phone has ended and he’s somehow still alive and Riko is not. That Nathaniel had died in Baltimore with his father and his real name now is Neil Abram Josten. He repeats it in his head over and over again until his breathing eventually calms down.
Neil can feel Andrew staring down at him, but he only looks in Andrew’s direction when the other starts to climb down his bunk bed. He watches as Andrew grabs a hoodie and then exits the bedroom leaving the door slightly ajar. Neil takes a deep breath, sits up, and runs a hand over his tousled hair before he gets up to follow Andrew into the living room, closing the door behind himself so that the light doesn’t disturb the others.
Andrew looks barely awake as he slowly walks around, puts on his shoes, and grabs a jacket on his way out. Neil does the same and follows Andrew outside. They climb the stairs to the rooftop and sit side by side in silence for hours like they’ve done countless times before.
Eventually, Neil begins to talk about nothing in particular to take his mind off things and when the sun starts to rise and he begins to feel the faintest warmth reaching him, he justs looks to the side to study Andrew. He doesn’t know how long he stays there, just watching Andrew staring ahead with his eyes barely open, but at some point Andrew slowly turns his head to the side to face him. They stare at each other for a moment, and then Andrew brings his hand to Neil’s chin and pulls him closer.
“Yes or no, Neil?”
Neil inches closer until he can feel Andrew’s warm breath on his face. “Yes,” he answers and closes the distance between them.
Neil loses track of time, it seems that time doesn’t move the same way whenever he’s with Andrew. He doesn’t know how long they’ve stayed there kissing, all he knows is that he can’t get enough of it. But next thing he knows, he’s lying down on the floor with Andrew on top of him and Andrew stills and shoves Neil’s hand away from the grip he had on his hair. “What--" Neil starts, unsure of what just happened as Andrew sits up.
For a brief second he sees a dark expression in Andrew's face that he can't quite understand, but then he goes back to a blank face just as fast. “I won't do this when you're like that,” Andrew tells him.
Neil sits up, and leaves a few inches separating them. “I was just thinking about--"
“I don't care,” Andrew interrupts him, “I need to hear your consent or I'm done.”
Fuck. Andrew had asked something and he was too lost in his head thinking about Andrew that he didn’t even register it. “I know--"
“We're done here,” Andrew declares and begins to walk away.
“Wait, Andrew--"
“I don’t want to hear it,” Andrew interrupts him again and turns around to face him. He clenches his fists and spits, “I-- I won't be like them. I won't let you let me be.”
And they both freeze. At that moment Neil feels like the world has just tilted. Had Andrew really just said this? He stares at the surprised expression on Andrew’s face that he knows it must be a mirror of his own. He opens his mouth but he doesn’t know what to say so he closes it and tries again, “What did you just say?”
“You heard me,” Andrew states and takes a step closer. “Let me see it.”
Neil freezes, staring at Andrew as he comes to a stop mere inches away from him. Could this be really happening? Had Andrew truly said the sentence that Neil has written on his chest, the sentence he knows by heart, and obsessed and analyzed for countless years? He hears his name being called and focuses back on Andrew’s eyes searching his own. “Let me see it,” Andrew repeats, and Neil understands that he needs this reassurance, that they both need proof this is actually happening.
He takes a deep breath and pulls his hoodie up enough to show his chest. Neil feels exposed like this showing all his scars. Andrew had already seen and touched some of them before, but Neil has been careful not to let him, or anyone see most of his scars - especially his mark. But he puts those thoughts aside when he sees Andrew moving his hand up in the direction of the letters carved into his skin, pausing with a finger over it as if what he’s seeing could not be real.
“You can touch it, if you want," Neil tells him, and Andrew glances for a brief second to his face and then he returns his attention to the soulmate mark in front of him. Andrew runs a finger through it, following the words written above Neil's heart, the light touch leaving goosebumps on Neil's skin and making his heart beat a mile a minute that he's sure that Andrew can feel.
He studies Andrew's expression while he traces the letters on his skin but he can’t understand what is going on on his head at the moment. When Andrew’s hand slowly drops to his side, Neil lets his hoodie down. He can still feel the ghost of Andrew’s finger on his skin so he takes a deep breath to focus. “Where's yours?” Neil asks quietly.
Andrew takes his eyes away from Neil’s chest to his face and for a moment they stare at each other. Then Andrew begins to pull off one of his armbands. And there it is, with the scars all around it, the exact same quote Neil has written on his chest on Andrew's arm, I won't be like them. I won't let you let me be. He's seeing it but it's still hard to believe that this is actually happening. But then he thinks about Andrew. He thinks about the keys, the trust, and the kisses. And he can’t help when a tentative smile begins to form.
Andrew is his soulmate, and everything is starting to make sense now.
#andreil#aftg#tfc#tfc fic#andreil fic#andrew minyard#neil josten#soulmate#soulmate!au#nicky hemmick#dan wilds#renee walker#Allison Reynolds#matt boyd#myandreilfic
131 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bad Decisions ( 1 )
Jungkook x Reader ( non idol au )
Summary: How can you be repeating the same night, over and over again ? With another person that you’ve never met ?
N: I know it’s been a while but here we are with another imagine, based on another tv show. russian doll. ( i’m sorry, i suck, i know lol ) for whoever hasn’t seen it yet and plan on watching ( this is basically spoilers okay so ??? you know don’t read yet i guess ? ) ALSO i guess sort of the same gist as the Save me Webtoon? but like obviously completely different ( i do not own the webtoon, the idea is simply from me watching Russian Doll
Trigger Warnings; alcohol, smoking,, death
jungkook stared in the mirror, his birthday party was happening right outside this bathroom and yet he couldn’t even make himself go out there. he just couldn’t do it. that was until the door was banged on three to four times, hard. rolling his eyes, he turned and he headed towards the door and threw it open. “all yours.” he grumbled, there’s got to be around eighty people here already and it’s only nine thirty, the party had only started an hour before.
he sighed and headed out, the first person he came across was seokjin. “ hey birthday boy!” he grinned and jungkook smiled back at him in response. “hey hyung.” he walked over leaning against the counter. he held out a bottle. “here, all yours. i’ve been keeping it for you.” he said and jungkook took hold of it with a small grin. “thanks.” just as his friend was about to speak a large hand clamped down on his shoulder. “birthday boyyyy.” namjoon was next to greet him.
for all jungkook was happy that his friends were here, celebrating with him, what he really wanted was to just relax for the night. but they’d all put this together for him and he didn’t want to see ungrateful. “everybody’s showing up, friends, family, you know it’s great.” namjoon said. “the others have still to arrive but they have a big surprise for you.” namjoon was still smiling, his dimples showing with the large smile on his face. jungkook forces his smile back. “cool, well i’m not going anywhere” he says lightheartedly.
the two boys can clearly see that whatever is going on in jungkook’s mind and they want to press on it, and ask but before long the younger has decided that he’s going to wander around the apartment. “i’ll be back.” he said, patting namjoon’s shoulder as he walked off, and despite the fact that he’d decided to wander around the apartment he bumped into a cute girl. his whole night changed, because the party? forgotten about, the girl however? he took home with him. on their way home, the young boy took her into the store, protection after all, was important wasn’t it? that and she wanted smokes.
as they stood, waiting to pay for their things a shoulder bumped into his and jungkook turned going to look at the person and give them a mouthful but he seen just how drunk she was. his brows furrowed as she wandered up the isle towards the back. he frowned, watching her carefully until the girl next to him tugged on his jacket and he smiled brightly the drunkard forgotten about.
a few hours later, and jungkook sits himself, the girl gone and his own apartment silent. he sighed, it had only been two hours and the party was still going. and the other six of his friends were demanding he showed his face again. he sighed, the last thing he wanted to do was go back to the party, yet they had a big SURPRISE for him. he got up, clothes being pulled on reluctantly. heading out the door back towards seokjin’s apartment.
walking back there as quickly as he could, jungkook didn’t bother looking at the road that he was crossing but the screeching of tires caught his attention but it was too late, the car hit him. instantly everything was black, a few seconds of pain. before nothing.
and at exactly the same time, that same girl that jungkook passed by in the store,, that he THOUGHT about helping her home, was now on the other side of the town a girl, drunk teeters over the roof’s edge dangling her foot. a drunken smile plastered on her lips and tears staining her face and before long she slips but not even a scream leaves her as she hits the ground. the only sound heard are the screams of strangers passing by.
opening his eyes, with a gasp he stood, in seokjin’s apartment in the bathroom. staring at himself in the mirror and his eyes widened briefly before he tried to think of what the hell had just happened to him. the banging on the door surprises him but at the same time it doesn’t. he hesitates and he frowns opening the door up. he slides out past the two trying to enter and he walks around, everyone around him he’d already seen hadn’t he?
“hey birthday boy!” a voice called and caught his attention, swallowing hard jungkook walked over to him. “jin hyung...” he trails off and the elder smiled at him. jin held out the bottle towards him and jungkook slowly took. it. “what the fuck is happening?” he whispered. “what are you talking about, kook?” he asked. and the boy looked up shaking his head. “uh haven’t we... we’ve done all this already haven’t we?” he asked.
before jin can answer, a hand comes down on his shoulder. “birthday boyyyy.” jungkook swallowed and he forced a smile. “hi... joon hyung..” he breathed. he was so confused, had it just... was this some sort of final destination shit? where he seen his own death? the images of himself being hit by that car and thrown more or less across the road, that PAIN he felt that had only lasted a few seconds. was it... had none of it happened ? was it... he’s brought out of his thoughts again by namjoon.
“ everybody’s showing up, friends, family, you know it’s great.” namjoon said. “the others have still to arrive but they have a big surprise for you.” jungkook stared up at him, doe eyes wide and his breathing hitched for that second. “kookie, you okay?” jin asked, a worried look on his face. “oh.. uh yeah.. i think um.. i think i just need a breather.” he said shaking his head and he turned. “i’ll be right back.”
at the exact moment he walked towards the door, he bumped into the same girl he’d... he wouldn’t let his mind trail off but he quickly, ignores and excuses himself from her company. making his way outside. once he’s out, a few people pass by him, greeting him with the happy birthday and the usual stuff. he leaned against the wall and he looked up, perking almost immediately when he noticed her. her. that girl that bumped into him at the store. he swallowed, or he tried too as she stumbled bumping into a wall.
he moved, this time deciding to help her. almost. ALMOST as he stepped towards the road the screeching of tires were heard and jungkook threw himself back away from the road and the car looking back to the girl, who had disappeared. “jungkook-ah!” he heard a voice call and he turned his head seeing taehyung and yoongi. he looked from them looking back towards the where the girl had been. “jungkook-ah!” the voice came again and he sighed turning to them again. “hey guys.” he said.
“you okay? jin-hyung text and said you were a little... out of it.” taehyung said and he shrugged. “just.. weird night.” taehyung threw his arm around jungkook’s shoulder. “well to be honest it’s gonna get weirder.” yoongi grinned and the two boys dragged jungkook back into the apartment.
hours into the night, early morning, jungkook headed out into the night. tipsy but not completely drunk a few people passed by him on the stairs as he moved he bumped into one of them. his feet slipped on whatever had been spilled on the ground and he toppled down the stairs and everything went black. his eyes snapped open and there he was again...
staring into the bathroom mirror.
#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#bts au#jeon jungkook#jeon jungguk x reader#jungguk bts#jungguk x reader#bts fanfic#jungkook fanfic#bd
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Here it is!
The pilot episode of Northwood Abbey! It’s kinda chaotic and nasty but please enjoy! I’m really excited to start this journey with you guys! However, I am crap at writing in the third person so this’ll be a journey for all of us.
Episodes: 0 1
Taglist: (remember to message me if you want to get taken off or put on it!) @hannahs-creations @killer-badass @theshadowsofthenight @slythekiel @lucas-writes @ohlooksheswriting @waywordwriter @hufflepuffbanana @writerproject @omicronviolet
Episode One under the cut! Enjoy!
Episode One: Pilot
The text came again, this time from a different number. The message remained the same, but whoever had sent it seemed to be taking a different approach this time.
We did try to warn you.
Mychael rolled his eyes. These freaks seemed determined to keep up the prank. It had been almost a month since the first text, and he’d already gotten several threatening messages from different numbers, all giving the same name as the source. The Abbey. Frankly, he didn’t want to know or care. But something about the name intrigued him.
A bell rang outside as the paperboy rode by. Mychael ran to the door and opened it slowly. His next door neighbors were out on the front lawn, letting their dog run around. A man with long brown hair pulled into a bun was chatting away amiably with them, probably about the weather.
“Good Morning, Mychael,” Mr. Beaulieu said offhandedly.
Mychael nodded in response, walking straight towards the paper and walking back to his house. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bright red flyer stuck in his mailbox. Quietly, he walked over and grabbed it. The guy with the man bun came walking past and seemed to notice the paper as well. Mychael jumped with a start as he spoke.
“You too? That carnival that just came into town must be really desperate for patrons.”
“There’s a carnival in town?”
“Oh sure,” the man laughed, “They set up by the old church in the woods behind Martona High School.”
“Have you gone yet?” Mychael asked.
The man shook his head. Without any further comment, he turned and continued on his morning run. Mychael grabbed the flyer and slowly read the black script words on the cherry red paper.
Madame Cyvalo Humbly Invites You To The Medusan Traveling Carnival
He went inside and put the paper on his fridge, making sure to use the magnet that drew the most attention. It had been ages since there’d been a carnival in town. The people in them always seemed so interesting and fun to him. Not to mention, the carnival workers seemed to be the only people other than his annoying neighbors or his girlfriend who had ever noticed him.
Speaking of which…
Hey, are we still on for tonight?
Absolutely!
Alright, see you there ;)
…
Several hours later, when the sun was falling down past the horizon, the doorbell rang. Mychael opened it to reveal a flash of bright pink hair. After a few minutes of small talk, Mychael offered to go to the carnival and get their fortunes as a couple read. That was something normal couples did right?
The second they arrived, Mychael noticed something was off. The whole carnival seemed to be just one tent with a ticket booth in front. A man sat in the ticket booth, his hair a shade of bright green. As the couple approached, Mychael noticed how Isabella seemed to tense up beside him. Something was definitely off.
And the old abandoned church behind the tent did nothing to lighten the mood. Cruel looking gargoyle’s clung to pretty much every overhang. The steeple had long since collapsed, and the bell sat on the roof, sheared in half by whatever had dropped it there. The stone walls of the structure were covered in moss, vines, dust, and what looked like gunpowder.
“Welcome to Madame Cyvalo’s Traveling Medusan Carnival,” The man droned, “How may I assist you?”
“Two tickets please,” Mychael replied.
“Did you bring the flyer?”
Mychael froze. What an odd question that was. The? As if there was only one flyer in the whole world. With a worried glance at Isabella, then back at the green-haired man, Mychael slowly pulled the red paper out of his pocket.
The man took it, giving a small, unenthusiastic smile as he swiped the flyer out of Mychael’s hand. Isabella seemed to be even more uncomfortable now. The man in the ticket booth seemed to be oblivious, which would’ve been hard to do, the poor girl looked like she was about to throw up.
“The flyer only works for one person,” The man droned on.
Mychael, of course, took this the wrong way. He glanced angrily at the man’s nametag, Xeph, it said. He grabbed Isabella’s hand and began scolding the carnival employee.
“Now listen here,” he glanced at the nametag again, already having forgotten his name, “Xeph. I was promised a carnival experience. I get here, no one else is here except for that tent, the creepy church, and some asshole telling me I can only buy one ticket to a carnival! Do you realize how sketchy that sounds?”
Xeph gave an unapologetic smile. “Your girl’s not looking so hot there, buddy.”
Mychael turned around just in time to watch Isabella collapse. He crouched over and began to panic. Within a second, Xeph was at his side, whispering in his ear.
“Madame Cyvalo only takes one customer at a time,” he chuckled quietly in Mychael’s ear. “Your little partner will have to wait her turn. And you wouldn’t want to keep The Madame waiting, she’s already done that for too long.”
“What about Iz?”
“She’ll be fine,” Xeph replied, then crossed a finger over his heart, “I swear.”
Mychael turned quietly to the tent and stood slowly. He gave a scared glance at the ticket booth minder, who urged him on silently, a twisted smile plastered across his face. Mychael slowly walked towards the tent and slid aside the flap. Hundreds of silken fabrics hung from the ceiling, and a small round table sat in the middle of the room. A few empty bookshelves were scattered around the scarlets, purples, light blues, and dark greens.
“I’d say I was expecting company,” A raspy voice sounded behind him. Mychael jumped to see that the table, which had been empty only moments before was now covered in candles. A woman sat on the side opposite him, a crystal ball placed precariously on the table before her.
“But that would be an understatement,” she finished. Her voice had the strang quality of honey, while still sounding like she hadn’t gone five seconds without smoking a cigarette in the past fifty years. A faint accent, maybe spanish, permeated her words, giving her an even stranger air. Her dark skin was framed with black curls of hair and magenta silk robes. All in all, she looked like she was part of the tent, not just someone who occasionally worked out of it.
“Who are you?”
She scoffed, “Is it not obvious?”
Mychael sat down carefully on a cushion across from the woman. She stared at him, or, into him. It was hard to say how uncomfortable her gaze made him.
“Shall we begin?” Madame Cyvalo jeered.
Without giving Mychael a chance to respond, The Madame began to speak, not even looking into her crystal ball. Each sentence she spoke seemed to hammer into Mychael’s head and support and calm it all the same. Everything she did felt and essentially was contradictory of itself by nature, and yet it made sense.
“Let us start with that little girlfriend of yours, huh? No good, try again with new one. Will probably kill you and leave you in ditch for fun.”
Mychael opened his mouth to speak, but Cyvalo jabbered on.
“Now, that lovely man you met that morning he seems more your speed,” She faltered, “To keep you alive darling, this isn’t a love reading.”
Mychael was, needless to say, heavily confused.
“I see a woman in red, no good, stay away from her if possible. Satan, ooh he’s looking very handsome today. And for you darling, oh I see so much pain, but you will most likely enjoy it, I suppose that is what I should say to make you feel better.”
She suddenly clapped her hands together and the crystal ball shattered in her lap. Mychael jumped as she pointed past him to one of the empty bookshelves, which was no longer empty. A single book sat upon the shelf, its cover a deep purple.
“Take it,” she urged, “It has protected me for years, now it shall do the same for you.”
“What is going on here?”
“Have you never done this before darling?”
Madame Cyvalo stood, towering above Mychael. The woman seemed to hold a ethereal might behind her frail form. Her hair began to flow in an unfelt and unsourced wind.
“This is me saving your life,” she said. But something was wrong, her voice had changed. A sound at the front of the tent tore Mychael’s attention away from the woman floating in the air. Xeph came running through the fabric drapes, blood dripping from a wound on his arm.
“She’s awake,” he said. Mychael assumed he was talking about Isabella, but wondered why he sounded afraid. A few moments later, he knew the answer.
Isabella came tearing through the tent, her fingers had stretched into claws. Her pink hair had grown wild and erratic, and her eyes were glowing yellow with flame.
“Where is he?” She thundered.
As the horrifically twisted form of Mychael’s girlfriend locked its eyes on him. Madame Cyvalo shouted for him to hold the book out in front of him like a shield. At the last moment, he raised the book in front of his eyes and felt Isabella’s grip wrap around it.
The change was immediate. Her skin began to burn and boil and an unearthly screech tore its way out of her throat. She writhed, trying to get away from the book, but it had welded to her hands. She screamed and rolled around on the floor. She finally managed to break free from the book, then scrambled out of the tent and into the night.
“Shit,” Cyvalo hissed, sinking down to the floor, pulling her hoop earrings out and setting them on the table.
“What do we do now?” Xeph asked hesitantly.
“We hunt it down,” Cyvalo replied.
“What do we do about,” Xeph paused, then motioned at Mychael.
Mychael fainted in response.
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Warmth 「yugyeom」
genre › fluff ︱ domestic boyfriend!au
pairing › reader ︱ yugyeom
word count › 2,034
warning › none
synopsis › #NoOneElseButYugyeomDay
Yugyeom rubbed his tired eyes, trying to rid any traces of sleep from his face that was unwashed and long due for a shave. He blinked at your message, wondering if there was any hidden meaning behind it. Was today a special day?
He scratched his already dishevelled hair, messing it up further as he tried to think of any important dates or anniversaries with you. None. He brushed it off, maybe you just had innocent intentions and missed him? The more he thought about it, he realised he missed you too and he tried to remember when the last time he saw you was. A month ago? Or maybe even longer.
The message you sent him asking to go on a date had come from nowhere, and Yugyeom knew you were away on a trip with your friends from college at the moment, so he wondered where you found the time to be able to hang out with him. Even though you were dating, you almost never spent much time out on dates. There weren’t many chances for you two to hang out, so he wasn’t going to turn down the date by any means, but he was slightly sceptical of what you had planned. The fact that it was his birthday completely slipped his mind as he began to make himself presentable enough to go out.
A message tone broke his train of thought while he was brushing his teeth. He ignored it, figuring it was one of the members trying to bother him or ask him for a ride somewhere, but then another one came. And another. Until he finally grew frustrated and picked up his phone, ready to snap at whoever it was. He was just trying to brush his teeth peacefully.
It really was the members. What a coincidence, he thought as he rolled his eyes. Messages were flowing in rapidly and Yugyeom struggled to read them, since they were flying past his eyes right as he caught sight of them. They were spamming and screaming, exclamation marks and emojis being the only thing he caught sight of. None of it made sense to him, almost like they were talking gibberish, so he switched his phone off completely and continued brushing his teeth to get ready to see you. Today was for you and him only. Whatever the occasion.
Yugyeom drove his sleek, black car out to the nearby park where you were already waiting for him. The chilly air resulted in a large scarf being wrapped around you and winter coat over your outfit. You were wearing a skirt with thigh high socks though, obviously not cold enough to make you dress in anything else and when you had gotten a touch of the cold air on your way out, you wanted to run back in and change but Yugyeom had told you that he was already on his way, so you didn’t want to keep him waiting. The coat would have to do, you decided.
You were almost completely covered up, minus your shivering legs and your face which was barely visible behind all of the layers. Yugyeom would’ve completely missed you had it not been for the cute little wave you gave him. He would never miss your cute ministrations. It was how he met you in the first place, all those years ago in this exact park when he saw you feeding a squirrel and tending to a bird who’s wing had been damaged.
He quickly turned on the heater, warming up the car for you before you got in. Yugyeom was thick skinned and rarely got cold so he was only wearing a light jacket, but he knew you were easily affected by the cold weather hence your current get up. You blew warm air onto your hands, smoke puffing out around them, before you reached for the door handle. The tip of your nose and cheeks were tinted red, how cute, he thought.
When you were comfortably seated and with your seatbelt fastened, Yugyeom grasped one your cold hands and placed it on his lap, driving away from the park and off into the city while you gave him directions to the bakery. “Did you wait long?” He asked you when you were waiting for the traffic light to signal go.
You shook your head, removing the scarf from around your neck because it was getting warmer in the car thanks to Yugyeom’s blasting heater. If not for him, you’d be completely frozen by now. “I was in the neighbourhood.” He seemed to be puzzled by the fact, but it didn’t surprise you.
The trip away with college friends wasn’t a complete lie. You had planned to go, and you did. For the first day. But after you took a dip in the nearby lake for a dare, you had fallen ill and spent the day getting an IV drip at the hospital for early symptoms of hypothermia. Fun.
Then you spent the next day wrapped up in blankets, with hot tea around the fire, as recommended by the doctor, and tried to come up with a plan for Yugyeom’s birthday. It had been awhile since you spent time with him, so you wanted it to be special. You could have told him, but it was useless as he would only worry and fuss over you. He was busy enough.
You actually lived quite a distance away from Yugyeom too, which was part of the reason why dates were rare and probably why he was being sceptical about your meeting place, but he’d find out in no time with the day you had in store for him. It wasn’t a lie that you were in the neighbourhood, but it was a surprise, so you kept your mouth closed and gave him no hints.
“So, birthday boy. Anyone spoil you with gifts and love yet, or am I the first?” He gave you a quizzical look and you laughed at the sight of pure confusion that was painted on his face, his eyebrows furrowed together, trying to piece it all together.
His face stilled and paled as he remembered the messages from the members. He was going to get his ass bet as soon as they see him tomorrow. They were birthday wishes to him and more than likely offers to go out to eat together and also the reason why you were going out with him today. He slammed his head on the steering wheel when he rolled to a stop at a red light, groaning in pain afterwards and rubbing his forehead. The members were going to think he was being bratty and ignoring them. He was literally doomed.
You giggled quietly to yourself, knowing the antics of his members very well. Jinyoung and Jaebum especially since they frequently volunteered at the veterinary where you worked. It was near the park but quite the commute to your house as you lived in a suburban area.
The way they treated and took care of all the animals were quite the contrast to how they treated Yugyeom, but you could still feel a sense of love behind their actions. And it was unbelievably funny whenever they made fun of him. He was teased relentlessly when he first brought you to meet them, and they never let him live down the fact that he split the entire dish of spaghetti because you laughed at his mismatched socks. That was funny.
“Y/n! How stupid am I? I forgot my own birthday! Of all days!” He groaned again, repeating the same stupid mistake from earlier and slamming his forehead down on the steering wheel. He whined in pain and you rubbed the red spot soothingly, still giggling at him.
When you arrived at the destination, Yugyeom scrambled to turn his phone on and check all their 320 messages. He was dead meat.
‘Yah, you punk. You’re ignoring us?’ was sent from Jackson, along with multiple other angry face emojis of him exclaiming he won’t ever buy meat for him again. Always the dramatic one.
‘We practically raised you, and you dare ignore us on your birthday? We ought to slap some sense into you, brat.’ Obviously came from Jinyoung. Yugyeom quickly shot them a sheepish smile emoji and switched off his phone, not wanting to read the influx of texts that would surely come in the next few seconds, no doubt telling him off again.
He pulled you out of the car, momentarily forgetting about the cold weather and making you scramble to put the scarf back on. It was absolutely freezing today. The skirt was such a bad idea and making Yugyeom wait a few extra minutes wouldn’t have been a big deal when he would be in his warm car the whole time anyway. You were literally making yourself sick all over again. Guess both of you were quite the fools today. What a pair.
You swung his hand in yours, trying to take his mind off it all and just have a good day. His hand kept yours warm too. It always baffled you how he never got cold.
Popping into the bakery, you quickly picked up the cake you had ordered and grabbed Yugyeom’s hand again, making your way to the train station. Out of nowhere, rain started to pour and Yugyeom’s grasp on your hand tightened, beginning to run with you in tow to a place with shelter. The heels and skirt you wore slowed both of you down drastically, and by the time you reached shelter, you were almost completely soaked from head to toe and you felt even colder than before. How is that even possible?
Shaking like a leaf, Yugyeom removed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, “stay here, I’ll go get an umbrella from the car.” You refused to be left alone though, so you both stayed under the flimsy plastic roof instead, waiting for the rain to pass. But just to your luck, gusts of wind were added instead of it stopping and Yugyeom sighed exasperatedly. He was only wearing a shirt. His birthday was not going well so far.
“I know you have a lot planned, but how nice does cuddling and movie sound?” He turned to look at you, concern in his eyes at your shivering state. He probably would have dragged you home even if you refused at this rate. His offer did sound tempting though; a warm bath and cuddles was just what you needed right now. “You have a bath, right?” When he gave you confirmation, you took a deep breath and grabbed his hand, running in the direction you had just come from. So much for a perfect day out together.
Snuggling up to Yugyeom’s side, you sighed in relief when your shivering finally subsided. The bath had soothed your nerves and pushed the hypothermia away, thankfully. You figured the Gods didn’t hate you so much as to completely ruin your day. Yugyeom wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his lap and letting you cuddle into his warm chest.
Your date may have been ruined, but you would much rather be warm and happy in Yugyeom’s arms, than cold and grumpy in nature’s wrath. And at least you still had a cake to munch on together. It wasn’t too bad and both of you were content with being like this. As long as you were together, what you were doing didn’t matter much. But you did feel sorry for not doing something more special for his birthday. Yugyeom didn’t let you dwell on it for long though, blowing out the candles on the cake and making a wish.
It wasn’t much but being with you made Yugyeom happier than anything else could. He had you in his arms, warmth and happiness surrounding the two of you as the movie played in the background and tasting the sweet cake on his tongue. Yugyeom decided simplicity was best and curled up into the bed, taking you with him. This was all he truly needed to feel happy and he couldn’t wait to spend another year with you like this.
#yugyeom#got7#got7creators#kwritersworldnet#thekpopnetwork#NoOneElseButYugyeomDay#yugyeom scenarios#yugyeom fluff#yugyeom fanfic#kim yugyeom#got7 scenarios#got7 fanfic#got7 fluff#got7 yugyeom#lovelovelove
99 notes
·
View notes