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sweetiepie08 · 4 years

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Rebel Z (Chapter 4)

Invader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn, @agentpinerulesall

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list feel free to message me. Also, if you’re on the tag list and you changed your name, please just let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10.

[-]

Dib felt the familiar burning sensation in his eyes as he stared at his monitors. Zim had been relatively quiet for quite some time now, three years to be exact. He didn’t disappear completely, like he had right before the Florpus Hole incident. Dib still caught him moving about his house, talking to strange aliens on his tele-communication device, and building dangerous-looking machinery. Despite Zim’s clear activity, outright plans to take over the Earth seemed to cease. Or at least Zim stopped gloating about them. Dib noticed these changes and decided they were concerning enough to require constant surveillance, but stable enough that he could step away from his screens every now and then.

As his eyes drifted across the screens, they landed on a haphazard stack of college brochures resting on his desk. Top universities from all over the world have been sending him these since preschool. He suspected college recruiters everywhere put his name on their lists the second they heard the world-renowned Professor Membrane had an offspring. They badgered him and Gaz for as long back as he could remember. They typically threw at least one ivy-league brochure in the trash every week. Although now, he had to start keeping them. Those recruiters must have started salivating as soon as his SAT scores were in. Every school wanted to be able to say they educated the children of Professor Membrane.

At least he didn’t have to deal with all the college recruitment events he knew were going on over at the High Skool. He and Gaz left mainstream education behind years ago after convincing their dad to let them homeschool. It wasn’t that hard. All they had to do was sit their dad down and show him their curriculums. His only condition was that they keep their grades up and take the most advanced programs available. It turned out to be a mutually beneficial arrangement. Dib & Gaz were learning the advanced science their father wanted them to, and they never had to set foot in the Skool again. This arrangement ended early for Dib, as he completed his senior year before his former classmates reached midterms. Of course, this only made the college recruiters even more ravenous.

Well, they were going to have to wait. High school may be over for him, but now he was taking a gap year. He told his father he wanted the time to figure out which branch of science he wanted to study. This was only half-true. Really, he just needed to figure out what to do with his life, period.

His child-hood dream of being a paranormal investigator grew less and less appealing as he saw what the field had become. The Swollen Eyeball network had gone down hill since Agent Darkbootie went off the grid to live amongst the sasquatch. Standards dropped to the Marianas Trench. Now, they let in riff-raff like flat-earthers and hollow-mooners. Uncovering the truth didn’t seem important to them anymore. It was all about who could come up with the most convoluted conspiracy, regardless of evidence or even common sense. Dib wanted to uncover the mysteries of the universe, to expand the knowledge of the human race. Knowledge didn’t seem to factor in at all anymore, not so long as the theory was sexy.

As for Dib’s work on Zim, he had to admit, it’d become mundane sometimes. He could only watch Zim binge-watch tv so many times before accepting there was nothing more to it. Hell, sometimes Dib would find himself watching whatever was on the tv more than he watched Zim. He’d sometimes go days without any notable movement. A few weeks ago, however, remarkable activity breathed new life into Dib’s efforts.

Currently, Zim’s ship sat haphazardly parked, or rather crashed, on the front lawn. Dib stared at it, waiting for Zim to notice the state of his space craft.

“Still monitoring Zim?” He heard Gaz say from the door.

“Always,” Dib replied, eyes still glued to the screen.

Gaz rolled her eyes and walked into his room. “You sure you need to? He’s been pretty quiet lately.”

“He knows I’m watching.”

“Okay, TJ Eckleburg,” Gaz said, leaning on his desk and popping open a soda.

“huh?”

“Read a book.”

“Whatever,” he groaned, his eyes flickering from one monitor to another. “The point is, quietness means nothing. Remember the time he disappeared but it turned out he was just hiding in the toilet?”

“You mean the time you let him hijack Membrane Labs, kidnap dad, and almost send the planet through a florpus hole?” She took a long sip of her soda. “Yeah, I remember.”

“And what about the time he left for weeks, then just showed up one day and broke my camera?”

“Oh yeah, that. I wouldn’t call breaking your camera ultimate evil, though, especially if you were shoving it in his face. You never did find out where he went, did you?”

“No, but there’s definitely something going on now,” Dib said as he opened his laptop. “I was going over the surveillance footage from last night and look.”

He brought up a clip he saved from the footage. It showed Tak parking a boxy, gray ship in Zim’s back yard and sneaking into his base. After a few minutes, the rooftop hanger opened. She flew Zim’s ship out, dumped it on the front lawn, and parked her own ship back in the hanger.

“Is that Tak?” Gaz asked, watching the clip.

“Yeah, I saw her on the cameras a few weeks ago. She broke into Zim’s base and left after about an hour, but this time she hasn’t come out.”

“So why aren’t you going over to investigate?” Gaz asked, returning to her casual lean.

“I can’t just rush in without a plan on something this huge!” he retorted. “I have to figure out what they’re doing first.”

Gaz shrugged. “Maybe she killed him and took over his base.”

“It’s not that easy,” Dib explained. “Zim’s computers are programed to only respond to him.”

“I used it once. The Tak hotdog thing, remember?”

“That was different. Zim let us in semi-willingly. Unless Tak found a way to override the security features…”

“Maybe she’s using Zim’s corpse as a meat-puppet to control the computer.”

Dib cringed. “Uh, gross.” Even he wasn’t sure he could stomach that idea. He returned to his monitors and saw a shadow move in Zim’s living room. “Wait! I just saw something!”

They both leaned into the screen as Dib zoomed in the camera on the window. Through it, they could see Zim’s robot servant sitting on the couch, eating snacks.

“That’s just Zim’s dumb robot watching tv,” Gaz said.

Dib threw his hands up. “Oh come on!” The robot again?! He’d watched this thing gobble down nachos on this couch a million times. Why did everything look so normal over there? “There has to be something going on. Is Tak hiding? Did Zim capture her? Are they planning something together? I have to know!”

“My best guess?”

“You’ve got a theory?” Dib asked, eagerly swiveling his chair around to face her. “Let’s hear it!”

“Tak’s playing the trombone and Zim’s slamming the oven door.” Gaz smirked, looking annoyingly proud of herself.

Dib’s face fell into a scowl. “Thanks Gaz, very insightful.” He sharply turned his chair back toward the monitors.

“You’re going to be up here obsessing all day, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Probably.”

“Fine.” Gaz downed the rest of her drink, tossed the can in the trash, and started toward the door. “I was thinking about watching that new Skinwalker Ranch documentary tonight, but I guess you’ll be busy.”

She walked out, leaving Dib alone with his screens. He scanned the feed in front of him, all inactive save for Zim’s snacking robot. He had been wanting to check out that documentary, but keeping an eye on Zim was more important, especially after this recent development. His eyes landed on the robot again, who was now sloppily sucking down a giant slushee. Dib sighed and checked the rest of his cameras.

Still nothing.

[-]

Zim emerged from his labs after another night of testing and research. His latest project was going well so far, despite the recent interference. No doubt, his leaders would be pleased. He went to the kitchen for a well-deserved soda and, whistling, headed to the living room to check on Gir.

As he sipped, he noticed something large and purple out the window. When he went to look, he nearly spit out his drink. His voot sat crashed in the front yard for all the Urth to see.

“Gir!” he shouted, jumping around to face his robot. “What is my ship doing out there?!”

“I dunno,” Gir said, munching away on his snacks.

“Well, if you didn’t do it, who did?”

“Uh, Zim,” the computer interrupted. “It was probably the intruder.”

“What intruder?!” Zim demanded, stomping into the middle of the room. “Why didn’t you alert me?”

“Uh, I did.”

The show Gir was watching snapped off the tv and the screen now showed security footage from the previous evening. Zim and Gir sat on the couch with a bowl of snacks.

“Sir, I have detected a-”

“Not now, computer,” TV Zim said, “Jessica is about to reveal the murderer.”

“But this really is urgent.”

“Of course!” TV Zim shouted, leaning off the couch. “It was the bus driver, seeking revenge for his fallen offspring!”

“Zim, there is an intruder in the-”

TV Zim jumped to his feet. “What? No!”

“Exactly!”

“It’s not the bus driver after all!” TV Zim declared. “I knew it!”

“No you didn’t,” TV Gir chimed in.

“There’s too much time left in the episode. Jessica still has 15 minutes to find the killer. Now, which of these smelly bus-humans is the real culprit?”

“Ugh, fine, whatever.”

The security feed cut out and Gir’s show came back on the tv. Zim growled and pressed his palms into his forehead. Curse that Jessica Fletcher and her engaging small-town mysteries! If that show hadn’t been canceled Urth decades ago, he would have ensured that was the last murder she ever wrote.

“Computer! Is the intruder still in the base?”

“Yes.”

“Locate them.”

After a few seconds of processing sounds, Computer answered. “Irken biosignature located in the storage room.”

Irken, he was pretty sure he knew what that meant. Zim stormed over to the trashcan/elevator. “Computer, take me to the storage room. I’ll show Tak how to sneak into my base.”

“You’re going to show her how to sneak into your base?”

“Or how not to sneak… Or what happens when you sneak… or… Ugh you know what I meant!” Zim jumped into the elevator. “Just take me there!”

[-]

Finding Tak wasn’t as hard as he expected. As soon as he made it down to the storage room, Zim was greeted by the sound of something metal clanging to the floor. From there, all he had to do was follow the trail of crushed cans. At the end, he found Tak sitting on the floor, surrounded by discarded cans and bottles. She barely took notice of him as she downed another drink.

“You!” He shouted, pointing an accusing finger at her. “You have some nerve coming back here after… whatever it is you did! I spent days running diagnostics, trying to figure out what it is you tampered with.”

“Eh, who cares what I did?” Tak slurred, tearing her mouth away from the bottle. “I’m back on Urth. Life is empty and destiny is a cruel joke.”

“What are you going on about? And what is all this?” he said, trudging through her mess. His foot kicked a glass bottle which was larger than the rest. Picking it up, he recognized the fancy Irken label. “This is my gingzor!” he gasped. “I’ve been saving this!”

“You can get more,” Tak said with a burp. “Did you know you can get this stuff on Urth without showing identification? Idiots.”

“Have you been in my storage room, drowning yourself in gingzor all night?”

“Yup, why not? As good a way to waste my meaningless life as any.” She looked down the neck of the bottle in her hand. “Empty, sad,” she pouted as she tossed it over her shoulder.

“What are you talking about?”

“Just my recent discovery that my entire life is a lie,” she sighed. “Hey, wanna watch me laser-shot this whole six pack?”

Tak held up a pack of green cans by their plastic connector. She shot a hole in the bottom of one with a laser pistol, then started chugging the drink out from the bottom.

Zim curled a finger around his chin as he pondered the sight before him. This was very unlike Tak. He’d had enough encounters with her to know what to expect. Proud declarations of her superiority, vows for bloody vengeance, maybe a bit of maniacal cackling… that was Tak. She even had all night to attempt to kill him and, instead, spent it swimming in a pool of gingzor and self-pity. This…this was not Tak. He wondered what could possibly bring her to such a lowly state. Then it hit him.

“Ah, I see what’s happened,” he declared. “You finally realized you were never meant to be an invader and that knowledge has sent you down a spiraling pit of despair. Go on, let it out. Zim can offer his pity.”

Tak’s eyes narrowed. She plucked a can off of the pack, shook it up, and sprayed it in Zim’s face. Zim let out a yelp as he was doused in the drink.

“You know, Zim, I didn’t know you were so sentimental.”

“Sentimental?” he grumbled, rubbing the gingzor out of his eyes

“I found your secret stash.” Tak smirked as she pulled out a box labeled ZIM’S PRIVATE STUFF (GIR DON’T TOUCH). She reached into the box and took out a CD case titled Best of Queen. “Looks like someone’s a fan of Urth royalty,” she said as she tossed it in the air.

Zim scrambled to catch it before it smashed on the ground. “That is a music group, not royalty and-”

“Oh what’s this?” she asked, pulling out his sleeved blanket. “Some sort of backward robe?” She threw that on Zim’s head, then held up his fuzzy boots. “And what are these?”

Zim snatched the blanket off and dropped it on the ground. “It gets very cold on Urth and-”

“Guess I can expect softness from someone who kept their cadet badge.” Tak held up the pink, metal circle with the Irken insignia emblazed on it. His heart beat just a second faster.

“Enough!” he shouted, swiping the badge out of her hands. “You have no business going through my stuff!”

Tak made a dismissive sound and waved her arm. “Pfft, I’ve already seen the inside of your brain. What’s the harm in looking through a few boxes?”

“Eh? My brain? Wha?” His hands flew to his back as he realized what she just admitted. “My PAK! You tampered with my PAK!”

“For the last time, I didn’t tamper, I ANALYZED!” she screamed in his face.

“Uh… this was the first time I mentioned it… Wait! It doesn’t matter! You committed a capital offence!”

“No, tampering is a capitol offence. Analyzing isn’t technically against the law.” She let out a bitter chuckle. “Although, it probably should be if they didn’t want me to see what I saw.”

“Eh? What?”

“I know something you don’t know…” she sing-songed.

“What? What is it?” He demanded, grabbing her by the shirt. “Tell me!”

“Guess who’s defective…” she sing-songed again in that annoying, giddy tone. “You! And me! And Skoodge! And a whole bunch of other people probably! And it doesn't matter at all!” She laughed. “Nothing matters! Nothing is real!” She laughed harder and threw her arm around Zim’s shoulders. “I don't even want to kill you anymore because it be so pointless. Why put in the effort? We're just walking talking food for a giant, horrible, tentacle-y, blob-monster-god-thing”

“What blob-monster-god-thing?” He inquired, pealing Tak’s arm off of himself with a sneer.

“You know it as the control brains.” She smirked. There was something bitter and smug in it.

“Control brains?” He gasped. “You're speaking treason.”

“Eah-yup!” she declared, popping open another drink.

He desperately rubbed his temples as this new information buzzed around in his brain. She couldn’t be serious. She couldn’t be. “This is a trick,” he accused, eyes darting around, looking for hidden cameras. “You're trying to get me to say something treasonous so you can record it and show it to the Tallest.”

“Nope, no trick,” she said. Her voice was unsettlingly casual. “I went all the way to Refierencee to find out Irk is nothing but the plaything of a life sucking horror blob. Don't believe me? Here.” She tapped a spot on her PAK and a cable flew into her hands. “Plug me in and check my memory drive. See if I'm lying.”

She waggled the cable at him, daring him to take it. There had to be a reason she was doing all this. She must have some sort of ulterior motive. Why else would she make up such an outlandish lie? Unless, it wasn’t a lie...

“Fine,” he said, snatching the cable, “but I warn you, I've upgraded my computer security. So if you try to infect my base with a virus, it won't work.”

Tak shrugged and went back to her drink.

Something was wrong here, very wrong. Whether it was the truth or just a nefarious plot, there was only one way to get to the bottom of it.

[-]

Tak sat on a box, her PAK plugged into the computer while Zim reviewed her memory drive on his computer screen. He played the Refirencee memories again. Was this the 3rd or 4th time? He couldn't remember. He scanned each frame with a sharp eye. There had to be something else here, some sort of tell that this was a trick, just another one of Tak’s schemes. There was no way this could be true.

“Watch as many times as you want,” Tak said, opening yet another can. “It's not gonna change.”

“You tampered with your memory drive,” Zim said matter-of-fact. Even if he hadn’t found an inconsistency yet, that had to be the case. It was the only explanation. Well, not the only one…

“Nope,” she answered. The assurance in her voice was grating. “Have your computer check. I dare you.”

Zim glanced up. “Computer…”

“No signs of tampering detected.”

“You see…” She was so smug. He hated it.

“Then this Krislotch person is a liar.”

“And has an amazing amount of free time on his hands,” Tak retorted.

“There must be something else!” Zim slammed his hands on the control panel. “Some other explanation! If it is true that means-”

“That our people are slaves and our entire society is a lie? Why do you think I keep drinking?” She asked, knocking her drink back.

“Enough sass, you talking bottle of gingzor!” He shouted, whirling his chair around to face her. He jumped to his feet and put an accusing finger in her face. “You expect me to believe this? That the Control Brains are actually-”

“A giant parasite feeding off the life force of our entire race? Yes! Exactly! What aren't you getting?” She jumped to her feet as well and advanced toward him, crushing a can in her hands. “It's got its tentacles in everything. It controls every aspect of our lives and it'll continue to grow bigger and bigger until that's all there is. Irk doesn't exist, Zim!” She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in. “In our lifetime it never has! There is only it and everyone: the invaders, the foot soldiers, the janitors, the food service drones, even the tallest! We're all just slaves to the glory of the parasite.”

Tak broke out in a wild cackle as tears began leaking from her eyes. Her fingers slipped from Zim’s clothes and she doubled over, hysterical laughter echoing around the room. Zim could only watch and puzzle over her conduct. This behavior was unbecoming of a proper Irken, especially not an elite as Tak fancied herself. Maniacal laughter was fine, sure, but this? Would she degrade herself so much for an act? He thought not.

“What now?”

“It's just so funny,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “I mean, we work all our lives to serve the empire. You and I even remained loyal in exile. And when I learned about this thing, how our people were in danger, my first thought was ‘I have to stop this thing.’ And now,” she let out a burst of cackling, “I'm an enemy of the state! And I have to hide in your base of all places and the first person I can tell about any of this is you.” Her laughter began again in full and it sent her to the floor. “You see how that's funny?”

“Uh, no.”

“Oh.” She calmed down enough to take a few deep breaths. “Am I laughing or crying?”

“Uh, laughing I think?”

“Good, good, 'cause this really is funny,” she said, reaching over and grabbing another can. “Like a great, big joke. My life, my existence… it's all a big, cosmic… what's that human phrase? Fuck you!” Her arms opened to the ceiling. “It's a big, cosmic fuck you!”

Zim watched her, laying on the floor, her pained laughter filling the room. The site was beyond pathetic, but he could feel no victory in it. He couldn't feel anything at all. If this was true, Tak was right… about everything. And in the face of this revelation, he did the only thing he could do. He sat down on the floor, grabbed a can of gingzor from the pack, and poured the contents into his mouth.

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

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3 a.m. Musings and Cherry Lip Gloss

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Characters: Hayner, Olette

With a small groan, Hayner cracked an eye open to peer sleepily at the alarm clock on his nightstand. The bright green numbers depicting 2:28 a.m., the only light source in the inescapable gloom of night, burned into his golden irises. With a louder, more aggravated groan, he rolled onto his back to shove his pillow over his head as if that would make him get to sleep faster. Instead, the neon letters imprinted into his corneas blazed in the dark of his closed eyes. After a few minutes of unsuccessfully trying to lull himself to sleep, he jerked up into a sitting position, shoved the pillow off himself, and just stared out into the dark.

Hayner didn’t usually struggle with sleep. Hell, normally, he passed out right as his head hit the pillow. It was an infuriating change of pace. It wasn’t like he had anything pressing to do in the morning, but the boy just liked his sleep. It was one of life’s many simple pleasures… one that was apparently going to be denied him tonight. He supposed that at least he could take solace in the fact that it wasn’t just some random bout of insomnia; there was at least a reason his mind was whirling one hundred miles an hour and just refused to shut off.

Sora was missing.

The three of them hadn’t been informed of the details. Roxas had just mentioned it in passing because he was depressed about it. There were things about Sora (and the others, too) that Hayner would probably never know- world-jumping and monster-fighting and data-worlds. He was content with that, but what he wasn’t content with was feeling so damn powerless in it all.

Hayner didn’t have a fancy Keyblade that he could sling around and save the day. All he could do was wish, and wish, and wish. Hayner was pretty damn tired of wishing while everyone else charged in to do the work, though. He sighed deeply as he ran both his hands through his tousled blonde hair. Sure, he resented it, but it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it. Hayner couldn’t wish some fancy weapon into existence, unfortunately.

There’s nothing for it, Hayner thought as he rolled onto his belly to grab his cell phone off the nightstand. He plucked it off the charger and tapped the screen, recoiling with a light screech as it blazed to life and virtually disintegrated his eyeballs. Stuffing his face into the mattress to recover, Hayner swiped his thumb across the top of the screen to lower the brightness. After a minute, the scorching pain receded, and he wearily lifted his head to blink at the now-darkened phone screen. He pulled up his messaging app and tapped on his archived conversation with Olette.

Hey, are you awake? The little bubble made a swoosh sound as it appeared on the screen. There probably was a snowball’s chance in hell that Olette would be awake. He would probably have more luck texting Pence, who was an insufferable night owl who somehow could operate on four hours of sleep and be that same cheerful ball of positivity instead of an irritated zombie. That’s how Hayner got after less than eight hours of sleep. Still, Hayner wasn’t sure he could use Pence’s radiant optimism right now. He was feeling out of sorts, and the one who always comforted him when he was that way was Olette.

Hayner stared at the screen for a minute, waiting to see if the girl was going to respond. He was actually going to break down and just text Pence anyway until another swoosh alert signaled the arrival of another, differently-colored text bubble.

I am. What are you doing up so late?

Can’t sleep. What are YOU doing up so late? Hayner countered. A faint smile ghosted over his lips as he drew up his legs over his back and laid his cheek against the soft mattress. Man, he was glad that she was awake. Something about that made him feel calmer already. Although, Hayner always got like that when it was just him and Olette- because he kind of had a pretty big crush on her…

Heehee! I can’t sleep either! A soft sigh left his mouth. He could imagine that little giggle of hers, accompanied by the sweet smile hidden behind her hand that she raised to her mouth when she laughed. God, he was hopeless when it came to her. Want to meet at the usual spot? He sat up on his arm, intrigued. That was certainly a proposition he hadn’t been expecting at the wee hours of the morning. Still, it was a heck of a lot better than lounging in bed wishing he could fall asleep.

Sure. I’m on my way.

Within minutes, Hayner had changed out of his pajamas in favor of a pair of jeans, a slim-fit, long-sleeve white shirt, and a black jacket. Now that it was the tail end of summer, the nights were beginning to grow cooler, necessitating such precautions. Indeed, as he stepped out of his house onto the bricked streets of Twilight Town, a cold wind blew through the empty corridors and roadways with a quiet, shrill whistle, making Hayner shiver slightly and stuff his hands down into his pockets. Absently, he wondered if Olette had dressed warm enough. He would offer her his jacket if he thought she hadn’t. Setting a brisk pace, he began walking up the sloped incline that led to their secret meeting place.

There wasn’t a soul out beside him. Hayner found the atmosphere peaceful; the town was always a-hustle and a-bustle with people walking towards the shopping district or conversing while they waited for the trams or just wandering about looking for something to do. Even far from the tracks, one could always hear the tram cars rattling as they continuously rounded their circuit of the city. Even the forest before the old mansion wasn’t free of noise; the trees always shook with the wind, and the air always abounded with chattering birdsong.

Hayner, busybody supreme, had always found the noise somewhat comforting and energizing. However, as he strolled under the brilliant canvas of the starry night sky in silence, he found that pleasant and stimulating in its own way, too.

God, he was going all philosophical. Is this what Pence did every night when he stayed up until the crack of dawn? Scowling, he rubbed at his eyes, feeling the bags that were already forming underneath them. He was probably going to regret this little excursion in the morning.

In no time at all, his feet had carried him to their secret base nestled behind an unassuming chain-link fence.

“Olette?” he called as he pulled back the curtain, not wishing to startle the girl if she was there. It was exceptionally likely, considering she lived closer to the base than he did. Sure enough, she perched on one of the overturned wooden boxes that served as their humble chairs. God, they needed to stop spending so much money on ice cream and pretzels and by some real furniture, especially considering that Lea, Isa, Roxas, and Xion were cramming themselves in there now, too.

Olette cocked her head to the side while giving a little wave and that sweet, sweet smile of hers. It almost made Hayner melt on the spot. It seemed being awake so late was making him all sentimental, too. He was all out of sorts for all sorts of reasons. What a concept. “Hey, Olette,” he smiled back at her as he entered the small nook.

“What’s on your mind, Hayner?” Yikes, right to the point. Scratching his head with an embarrassed smile, he hovered in the doorway. She waited patiently for him to answer, hands clasped in her lap and green eyes sparkling with pure goodness. God, he loved her, really. Wait. That isn’t the topic of conversation, he reminded himself.

“I’ve just been thinking,” Hayner frowned as he struggled to put his complicated feelings into words, “how upset I would be if any of you guys just up and disappeared on me.” Wow, that actually came out articulated and cohesive. Not bad for being half-asleep.

He walked over to sit on the small box across from her, resting a cheek in his hand while the other arm slung across his opposite knee. “I know there’s nothing we can do about Sora, but I can’t help but think about it, y’know? I can’t imagine what the others are goin’ through. I’d be devastated if you vanished, Olette.”

The words hung in the air for a moment before he realized exactly what he had said. He immediately blushed fiercely, almost grasping upwards to pluck them down and shove them back into his mouth. That wasn’t how things worked, though. He shrunk into himself in mortification as Olette stared at him with owlish eyes.

Hayner decided then and there not to have any more 3 a.m. conversations with Olette.

The tense silence that settled between them also made him elect that silence was no longer comforting. “Um… Say something, please,” he asked awkwardly after it became too much for him to bear.

“O-oh!” she cried while flushing pink and waved her hands about in an apologetic manner. “I’m sorry, I just zoned out?” She laughed with a nervous smile. Hayner frowned lightly as he resumed his horrible slouching posture. It was definitely a weak excuse, but like hell he was gonna question it. “Um, yeah… I totally get what you mean. To be honest, I’ve been thinking about it too… It’s also why I couldn’t sleep. I’m almost afraid that I would wake up, and…” she trailed off to play with her fingers, gaze falling to her lap, “you not being here anymore…” she finished shyly, glancing up through her pretty lashes at him.

If Olette was really hinting that she liked him as he liked her, well, she was probably questioning it, because Hayner looked pretty stupid with the way his mouth was hanging open as he gawked incredulously at her. Hastily, he shut his mouth and leaned back, unsure quite what expression he was trying to make on his face at the moment. Somehow he managed to form words, though.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that, Olette… I’ll always… be here…” The could’ve come out smooth as hell, but he made it sound so awkward and shy. Well, it really was a wonder he said it at all because he sure wouldn’t have if it were a typical time of day.

For the duration of him saying it, his eyes had been searching the meeting spot for something to land on, only to drift back to Olette. He instantly felt his heart clench in his chest; the way she was looking at him right now, so relieved and happy with just a hint of a demure smile on her pretty pink lips…

Wait, did she have on lip gloss? Who puts on lip gloss at 3 a.m.?

His hands flew to the edges of the box underneath him when she suddenly stood up and walked across the room to stand in front of him. He encased that box in a white-knuckled grasp as he looked up at her uncertainly.

“Promise?" she asked him softly, endearingly, hopefully. With the way the sleep was fogging his brain, he began to wonder if this was all a dream, that he really was asleep after all. Well, if it was a dream, why stop, and if it wasn’t and he really was awake, all the better.

“Promise. I’m not going anywhere, Olette.”

Hayner should pull a move. Girls liked moves. The movies all said so.

He pried one of his hands from the box and tried to ignore the bright red imprint of its rough surface against his palm. He reached out to grasp one of her own, gently rolling circles into the top of it with his thumb. From the way she bashfully looked down at their held hands then up at him, he could tell that it was a successful move. Point one for sleep-deprived Hayner.

Olette reached up with her other hand to softly brush her fingertips over his cheeks. The feather-light touch sent electricity skittering across his entire face that lingered after her hand had already fallen away.

“I’m glad.” The way she whispered the words sent an oddly pleasurable shiver up his spine. He got a sudden urge to kiss her.

Was he crazy? Probably. Then again, he was dangerously close to lunacy already from not sleeping.

Was he going to go for it? Absolutely.

“Olette…” Her name crept past his lips without him noticing as he stood up, tilting his head slightly as he looked down at her. He still held her hand while his other rested against her cheek, fingertips just barely threading into her waves of chestnut hair. She styled it every morning, but it consisted of crimped waves of chocolatey locks due to the late hour. Somehow, he liked that even more… It made her look so natural, so raw, so beautiful.

Without another word, his face drifted down over her own to plant a soft, sweet kiss on her lips. Olette angled her face to respond to him, and as a little of her lip gloss smeared across his mouth, he could vaguely discern the sweet taste of cherries. Point one for lip gloss at 3 a.m.

Hayner held the kiss for a minute before pulling back, but only just. As her eyes fluttered open to peer up at him adoringly, he smirked playfully. “I guess it’s just a little unnecessary to say that I like you, Olette.”

She giggled, holding her hand up to her mouth just like she always did, and he swore that he fell even more in love with her only from that.

“Yes, but a girl likes to hear it anyway.” Her green eyes sparkled up at him like sunlight filtering through a thick canopy of leaves. “Feel better?”

“Loads.” Just from talking to her, he felt like a great weight dropped off his shoulders. Suddenly, a large yawn split his face, and he rubbed his eyes at a sudden onset of drowsiness. He felt like he could fall asleep on the spot.

Olette giggled again before asking, “Care to walk a girl home?” He nodded in agreement and Olette grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together before tugging him out of the secret base. As the chill wind greeted them, she pressed her body against his, and they set off together in the deep of night with the moon and stars as their only company. Hayner really wasn’t sure how he got from point A to B, because his memory faded very quickly after their leaving.

The only reason he knew that it wasn’t a dream was the faint lingering taste of cherry lip gloss on his lips in the morning.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#kingdom hearts #kh #haylette #haynette #hayner x olette #olette x hayner #olettexhayner #haynerxolette #romance #fluff #cutesy #oneshot #oneshots #oneshot collection #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfic #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kh fanfiction

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ticklikeabomb · 5 years

Text

Birth in Reverse : Part 4

Pairing : Avengers x Plus Size Reader (ships next chapter)

Warning : Language

Word Count : 1.9k

Inside the room once everyone was seated, Tony plugged the drive in. A close-up shot from a man was seen. It was dark, the only light on the room illuminating his face. "Hello Y/N. If you see this, it means I'm dead. I know you must be confused right now and you don't know who to trust anymore. One thing is for sure, don't trust anyone." There was a small pause where he would check his surroundings. "The first thing you have to know is that you're part of Hydra." You gasped and shocked your head "No", feeling all the Avenger's eyes burning holes in your skin.

Your breath got stuck on your throat after this affirmation. You couldn't even dare looking at anyone, shame and shock possessing you. "When I say Hydra, I mean you were", the man on the screen continued. Your head lifted up, your features screaming confusion. "I was part of it too. It took me a while to realize that I was on the wrong side all along but Dr Jules knew. She knew you had to be saved. Hydra became uncontrollable, their madness reaching the verge of understanding. I know you're a little confused right know." He kept looking at his surroundings.

"You and your twin sister lost your parents when you were young. Hydra planned their assassination and pretended it was an accident but what they didn't plan was that you were both with them. For some kind of miracle you and your sister survived and were taking in. Dr Jules was part of your education ever since. You've been trained and controlled. The difference between you and you was that one got powers and the other had to work harder for it, your sister. She trained non stop, eventually become the perfect soldat, the perfect death machine but she made a mistake. She became reckless, always trying to take matters into her own hands without anyone while you were the voice of reason, seeing the futur, preventing major Hydra costs. The leaders couldn't bare her stubbornness anymore and found the perfect way to shot her out. Their greatest success I might say. You ! The new you. They modified your genome and planted part of her brain, cells and blood in you. The reasonable mixed with the fierceness, the perfect combination. Dr Jules couldn't bare what they've done to both of you and freed you, erasing your memory and implanting a new life inside your brain. I reached out to her and she told me how to reactivate you. If you're seeing this tape it means you're you again, -ish and that not only is Jules dead but so am I. DON'T LET THEM GET TO YOU. Good luck Y/N."

The screen went black, silence filling the room. No one dared to speak up, everyone as shocked as the other. Your vision was blurred, waves of tears on the verge to cascade your face, while your breathing quickened. "They killed h-" 'Yes they did. Kind of', you heard the voice in your head. The voice you thought was yours since you've got reactivated, turning out it was your sister's. "Y/N?", you heard a faint male voice coming closer. You looked at the source's direction and saw Bucky kneeled in front of you. That's when you lost it and fell into the spirals of your oceanic tears. You felt the room compress around you, heath engulfing you and noticed that the Avengers stepped closer, trying to transmit their support in their own way. 'Stop crying, they must be pitying us. I hate it.' Hearing her voice, knowing it was part of her in you made you sob even harder. You put your hands on your head, rocking your body back and forth until you abruptly stopped. Your mouth slightly agape, your blank expression and your lifeless eyes replaced your natural state. "Boss she's going into a complete state of shock", informed F.R.I.D.A.Y

"Y/N hey kid stay with me. Come on", said Tony inched from you. The tears kept sliding down your face but with a silence that made everyone's blood cold. Your eyes locked with Tony's brown ones and you whispered, "I'm tired, so tired." 'So dramatic. GIRL the F.' Wanda stepped closer and slowly took your hand in hers. "What's your name?", she asked. 'Why is she asking your name?' She chuckled and looked you in the eyes, "No, I mean what's yours? I don't really wanna refer to you as Y/N's sister." You frowned and remembered Wanda could read minds and was trying to communicate with…'Nadia'. "Nice to…meet you Nadia. Ehm could you help Y/N in calming her down or something?", asked the Scarlet Witch calmly. 'Why would I do that? She failed me', was the last words you heard before feeling darkness invading you.

Screams. Screams getting louder and louder by the second. 'Y/NNNN.' A hand stretching out to you and your eyes terrified looking back at you. Her eyes. 'HELPP.' A louder scream pulled you up from the darkness, the only light shining in the room was the moon's reflection. Sweat covered your body and heavy pants leaving your mouth were the best terms to describe your state. You stood up and walked to the bathroom, discharging your clothes to the ground and leaving the boiling water hit your skin. 'It might be your body but I still can feel it burn. Turn the water down'. You didn't obey and kept it at the hottest level. You heard her curse you out and blabber in your mind and cut her off in a whisper, "Nadia." She didn't respond. "This is so fucking weird", you mumbled under your breath. 'No shit', she commented. "I…I don't remember", you said, tears tickling your eyeballs. 'I know but you will. Eventually.' You turned the water down, took a towel wrapping it around your body and exited the room. Your head lifted from the ground and you saw Bucky sitting on the edge of the bed. When his eyes met yours, they widened and he turned his face, a small blush creeping up his neck and cheeks. "Fuck, sorry Y/N. I didn't mean to-" 'What is Jesus doing here?'

"What are you doing here?", you asked. He scratched the back of his neck, his gaze focused on the wall opposite from you and cleared his throat. "I… F.R.I.D.A.Y noticed me you woke up and I was worried." "Oh", was all that left your mouth. You sat down on the bed and told him it was ok to join you. "I'm covered. You can sit down if you want to." He did as you said but his blush kept darkening, his mind telling him your luscious and soft body was naked underneath the towel. "How are you feeling?", he asked with a slight crack on his voice. You looked at him and shrugged, "Like I don't know myself anymore. Like I thought I was this person and find out it was complete bullshit, not even starting on the fact that I share my consciousness with my twin sister. It's…I don't know. I'm lost." He nodded, his eyes clouded with pain and understanding. "I know exactly what that feels doll", he breathed out, his hand ceasing yours in a comforting squeeze. "If you need anything I'll be always here for you, alright?", he commented not even aware where that came from. You nodded and closed the gab between you, engulfing him in a hug. Not expecting it, Bucky's body froze before letting himself go and hugging you back. You disengaged and apologized for stepping onto his personal space. His response to that consisted of him hugging you again this time tighter, your sweet scent invading his nostrils. 'If you two become a thing I fucking riot', Nadia commented. A small chuckle unintentionally left your lips at her words before disengaging the hug again. "I need to put some clothes on", you noted. He stood up and stumbled on his way out. 'Well fuck.' "You never shut do you?", you asked Nadia. 'Nope.' "Great", you mumbled.

As you told Bucky, you put on some clothes and decided to walk to the kitchen. You thought it would be empty but at your surprise, the house was on full mode. Their animated conversion stopped abruptly when you entered the kitchen. A small smile made its way but quickly faded. The silence and their stares made you uncomfortable. That's the precise moment Thor chose to step towards you and took your hand, leading you to the table. Astonished by his action, he replied with a bright smile and drops a plate with freshly backed pancaked in front of you. 'Well that's a man', Nadia commented in a rather silky voice. "WHAT?", you asked. "Ehm Y/N, are you ok?", asked Scott. You looked at everyone and noticed Wanda's amused smirk taking a gulp from her coffee. "Yeah, sorry", you replied and plunged on the food in front of you. "You sure? You've been out for two days", added Clint, who received a slap on the shoulder from Natasha. "Ouch", he hissed and rubbed on the spot. "Don't pay attention to him", she declared and smiled at you. 'I wanna spare with her', commented Nadia. You shook your head in disagreement but play it off. "Y/N!!", you heard Roger's in authority. 'Arghhh I can't stand this one', told Nadia to which you couldn't agree more. He was really getting on your nerves and apparently you weren't the only one. "We talked with among us and we would like for you to stay with us, be part of the Avengers", he continued in a more quiet tone, a small smile crossing his features. 'Well I wasn't expecting this.' "Eh I don't know", you replied back hesitant. "Just think about it", he said. Well that definitely caught you off guard. you though he would push you into accepting but were glad he didn't. You continued your meal, your eyes scanning the crowd who continued their previous shenanigans and your eyes focused on Thor. He was telling Rhodes and Scott about some Asgard adventures, putting all his heart into the story. 'Godly indeed. Hmmm', whispered Nadia while you were taking a gulp of your drink.

Obviously you choked on her words and coughed out load, "Fuck Nadia." Wanda helped you clean up, trying to contain her laugh but Nadia wasn't having it. 'What all I'm saying is that I wouldn't mind to hold his hammer.' To that Wanda lost it completely while you wished you could disappear down a hole. "What is going on there?", asked Tony with a suspicious look a small smirk forming. "Nothing", you replied way to fast. "Are you alright Lady Y/N? Does your throat hurt?", asked Thor innocently. 'It could hurt if you want too'. Your eyes widened which let a confused look appear on the God of Thunder. "Nope, my throat is completely fine. No need of assistance", you replied your voice trembling. Wanda was bend down, laughing her ass off and your eyes shot daggers at her. Your pleading gaze met Bucky's whose expression looked tense : jaw clenched and dark eyes. He stood up, put his plate on the sink and left the room. "Shit", you breathed out. 'Someone looks jealous', commented Nadia. "Shut the fuck up Nadia", you replied through greeted teeth. 'Make me !', she spat in a menacing voice.

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mayanangel · 5 years

Note

Oohhh fluffy and cute frian/maycury please! I alawys thought they are a LOT like Lilly and Marshall from HIMYM the longer you think about it the more sense it makes! Could you do Something with that pretty please?

Hey, anon! Thanks for the request! Unfortunately I’m not the biggest HIMYM fan, so while I do know OF Lilly and Marshall, I’m not like, the biggest expert on their relationship dynamic.

So maybe I can offer you some fluffy and cute modern!AU Frian instead?

And by “fluffy and cute modern!AU” I mean something that somehow became a makeup artist!AU, because I’m a terrible person :(

Again, sorry for the suuuper late fill, but I hope you’ll like it! And of course, feel free to request something else if you want to. XOXO

x-x-x-x-x-x

“Don’t move.“

“I’m not.”

“I just sai-..! Brian! I said don’t move!” Freddie half-laughed, half-complained, grabbing his boyfriend’s fluffy - and giggling - face between his hands. “Now look what you’ve done - your eyeliner’s gone all crooked!”

Brian laughed. “I’m sorry, babe, I really am. Can it be fixed? I’ll be still this time, I promise.”

Freddie narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend, sneering jokingly. “You sit on a throne of lies, you liar.”

Brian chuckled, shrugging at the camera. “Well, I tried.”

Freddie flipped him the bird, while rummaging through the mess of cosmetics on his filming vanity for a makeup wipe. "And… I’m out of makeup wipes too, apparently.”

“Oh, are those the wet tissues you make Roger and I use after we perform? They smell nice.” Brian spun idly on his boyfriend’s spinning stool, a delicate finger just barely scratching at his nose. He knew better than to just rub at the itch the way he usually would; the last time he did that, they had to pause shooting altogether, due to Freddie almost bursting into tears over Brian ‘ruining his contour’.

Enter John, swooping in with an emergency cuddle while Roger laughed his ass off behind the camera.

“Ugh, whatever. Fuck those wipes! We’re doing this old school with a q-tip and some makeup remover. Now stay still, love!”

Brian practically held his breath as Freddie cupped his face with one hand, and then very carefully worked a wet q-tip near his eye with the other.

It was a strange sensation, having someone prodding around so near to his eyeball - but he trusted Freddie with his life. And to be honest, he really did try to keep perfectly still - after all, Freddie had been begging him to do this video for weeks, and he wanted nothing more than to make his boyfriend happy - but he just couldn’t help being both curious about everything Freddie was doing to his face, while also just appreciating his boyfriend’s very focused, and almost uncharacteristic seriousness, while he worked his magic.

And could you blame him? His boyfriend was gorgeous.

Today Freddie had done his own makeup hours before they even started filming, and like always, Brian had been distracted from the moment he saw him fully glam’d up. He just… he looked like a fucking work of art. Exactly how his boyfriend managed to look both prettier and more handsome at the same time when he was all dolled up, he had no idea. All he knew was that, beyond all the eye shadow and lipstick, he was just as mesmerised with this part of his boyfriend - or ‘Melina’, as Freddie dubbed his feminine persona - as he was with Freddie himself.

Sure she was a force of nature to contend with, his Melina; just as much a runaway storm as his Freddie. But he couldn’t stop loving either if he tried.

Fully dolled up, or hair slicked back, dressed head to toe in leather - Brian was hopelessly enamored with his boyfriend in his entirety.

Of course their fans knew about Freddie’s dabbling in makeup and the occasional drag. And of course, there were those who tried to make Freddie feel bad about it. But he and the others had decided long ago - before Freddie started his Melina youtube channel - that they would stand by their lead singer no matter what. God knows the amount of times he’s walked in to find John calming an irate Roger down from another screaming match with his laptop screen - all because some troll had commented about how Freddie was the death of decency in rock music.

As if rock and roll was ever 'decent’.

Those bastards could fuck off.

But Freddie - oh how his man just kept on being amazing and outstanding, despite the shit people were throwing at them.

Instead of giving up on drag and makeup, their lead singer had instead gotten even better at his craft, and eventually started his own youtube channel, where he could be honest and open about being queer and doing drag, while also being a rockstar. His makeup tutorials were especially popular; and as they grew as a band, Freddie began to grow as an exceptional makeup artist.

Told you my bloody art degree would come in handy, he once told them, and Brian couldn’t agree more. He’d practically lost track of how many times he’s watched Freddie paint his face, and yet the process still never failed to take his breath away.

The way every movement, every action, every deliberate touch - slowly transformed all that was Freddie, until Melina finally took her place; it was fucking artistic poetry in motion. In fact, he even suggested once that Freddie do their shows in drag, but his boyfriend had laughingly declined.

'Melina’ isn’t made for singing on stage in a rock band, dear, he had told him. Melina was beauty, Melina was glam. Melina was fantasy.

But Freddie however - Freddie was made for the stage. Freddie was music, Freddie was performance. Freddie was for their fans, who had stuck by them, from their days of singing cover songs on Roger’s youtube channel, to performing original material on their official band channel, to them releasing their album and touring the country performing live almost every other day of the week.

For those fans, Freddie was Freddie, and Freddie enjoyed keeping it that way. Perhaps Melina could drop by once in a while, he mused, but at the end of the day, if he was going to stand on stage and sing while Brian, Roger, and John played their hearts out, he was going to do so as Freddie Mercury.

Besides, he cheekily added, he very much enjoyed being unmistakably male when teasing Brian during his solos.

Kept the thirsty ladies (and boys!) in their audience suitably reminded of their places, should any of them get the dreadful idea that his boyfriend only really 'liked’ him because he wore makeup and occasionally did drag.

Well, joke’s on them. Brian’s boyfriend may like to wear makeup and wear lingerie - but he still had a dick, so there.

Without even meaning to, Brian felt a fond smile form on his face. In front of him, Freddie finally stepped back to assess his work, eyes darting left to right to check whether Brian’s eyeliner was finally even. Brian hoped it was - he really didn’t want more things poking near his eye.

Freddie whooped. “Perfect! Done! Now, we just need to fix the foundation a little - as you can see, some of it’s come off around here - but other than that, I think we’ll just need to pop on some mascara, and then mayyyyyybe some fake lashes? What do you think, babe? Does this… supermodel, slash Hollywood starlet, slash Fairy Queen fantasy need some fake lashes?”

Not gonna lie, Brian kinda liked how Freddie described him as some sort of cross between an ideal and fantastical beauty. Made him feel like a real showstopper - a stunner.

He turned to the camera, puckering his lips and striking some semblence of a pinup pose. “Then I’ll finally be prettiest of them all?” he asked demurely.

“Oh please,” Freddie grinned, pecking a brief kiss onto his lips. “You know you’ve always been pretty, love.” He giggled when he saw that some of his lipstick had transferred to Brian’s cupid’s bow. “How else did you think you convinced me to date you?”

Brian straightened in his seat, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, I was thinking it was because of my big pe-…”

Freddie gasped, dropping his mascara and scrambling to cover Brian’s mouth. “BRIAN HAROLD MAY, DON’T YOU DARE!”

John and Roger broke down into peals of laughter off camera.

Brian snickered behind Freddie’s palm, gently removing it so he could smile indulgently at his boyfriend. “I was going to say PE-rsonality, love. Personality. Honestly, Fred. This is a family show, calm down.”

Freddie responded by rubbing indignantly at the trace of red on his lips, feigning annoyance and muttering under his breath.

“Yeah, Fred, let Brian tell us more about his 'big personality’!” Roger hollered off camera.

Freddie swiftly turned towards his giggling bandmates. “Shut up, Rog!” he mock scolded, embarrassment and amusement breaking out all over his face. “We are not doing that, okay - NO, sto..- John stop encouraging him! - I repeat, NO ONE needs to know about my boyfriend’s… personality or whatever, alright? This is a makeup tutorial - and you BASTARDS are trying to get me banned from youtube, when I’m not even halfway done with his face! Shame, the lot of you!”

Brian laughed heartily, taking Freddie’s hand to get his attention.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, babe, I’ll be good now, I promise. No more talk about… big… personalities.. Whether they be mine or yours!” He turned towards the camera, pointing a finger at their imaginary audience. “No more!”

“You insufferable knob, I hate you!” Freddie hid his face in his hands, eyeing Brian through the gaps between his fingers.

Brian batted his perfectly painted eyelids at his boyfriend. “Liar. You love me.”

Freddie pretended to consider for a moment, cheeks burning red, before giving in and looking up with a bashful smile.

“Fine, you’re right. I do. I love you.” He leaned in for a kiss, stopping halfway to grab a tissue to press over Brian’s lips, then planting a firm smooch on Brian’s tissue-protected face. Brian grinned at his boyfriend’s ingenuity, wholly impressed when Freddie pulled away smiling and lipstick transfer-free.

“Oi! Get a room!”

Brian took the tissue from Freddie and threw it in John’s direction, the other man scurrying to hide behind an equally giggling Roger.

Freddie laughed, flipping off their friends for good measure. “Alright, enough! Let’s get back to work!” He reached for his mascara, manhandling Brian’s head back into the perfect position.

“Now, you need to sit perfectly still and hush, alright? For real, this time! - or I swear I will stab you in the eye with my mascara wand, and let Roger turn you into one of him memes.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, love.”

Brian grinned, already thinking about the many ways he could use those words against his boyfriend later. “Very well. Do your worst, babe.”

Freddie smirked. Roger and John rolled their eyes.

“Gayyyyyy~!”

“Shut the fuck up, Rog!”

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

“….And this is the final look, guys! What do you think, Brian? Did I do a good job?”

Brian stared at his reflection in the mirror.

“Oh my…Fred, you did amazing! I look… oh, I look gorgeous! This is… oh wow. This is fantastic!”

“Really? You really like it?” Freddie asked earnestly. Brian nodded with enthusiasm.

“Freddie, babe… I love it!”

Freddie beamed, feeling probably the proudest he’s ever felt since coming out to their fans all those years ago.

To think that they would be able to have a moment like this after everything they had all been through, was humbling. Queen was doing great, his boyfriend was literally the best boyfriend in the world (John can kiss his ass if he thinks otherwise, no offense to Roger), and their fans - as far as he knew - loved and accepted all of them just the way they were, no questions asked.

Freddie honestly could not have asked for a better moment to bask in.

Well… then again.

He watched as Brian gingerly poked and prodded at his masterpiece, still enthralled by his new face. Freddie bit his bottom lip. There was one other thing that he’s been dying to ask of Brian. One other thing that he’s been dying to have Brian do for him.

Something that his wonderful boyfriend has consistently - albeit politely, because Brian - declined to do ever since he first offhandedly suggested it.

But then… considering how well he was taking the makeup thing - perhaps now would be a good time to ask?

“Uh oh.” Brian was turned towards him; mirror put away, camera still recording.

“What?”

“I know that look.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“But you were thinking it, and I love you, but the answer is no.”

Freddie pouted. “But Brimiiiiiiii…”

“No, Freddie.”

“But-”

“I already let you put me in makeup, babe, what more could you want?”

Another pout, but even closer to his face, because Freddie was now dangerously close to sitting on his lap. “…..Please?”

Brian sighed. “Freddie…”

“Just for one night! I promise it will be amazing, love! You’ll be amazing!”

“Freddie, I- I… you know I can’t dance…” Now it was Brian’s turn to pout, insecurity looming it’s ugly head. Of course he knew what Freddie was suggesting. He’d been suggesting it for almost as long as he’s been begging him to do this video. And it wasn’t that he didn’t like the scene or anything - hell, he probably enjoyed it more than Freddie did!

It was just… the whole over the top theatricality of it all could be so intimidating. He enjoyed watching Freddie and their other friends when they were into it, but he just couldn’t see himself ever having that kind of confidence to pull it off.

Freddie was having none of it, though, reaching out and lifting his boyfriend’s beautiful face to look at him.

“You stop that right now. You know as well as I do that it’s not about dancing, it’s about being and enjoying yourself. And in my personal opinion, darling, I think you’d be magnificent at it!”

Brian blushed. “You really think so..?”

Before Freddie could answer, Roger beat him to it. “I mean… if it’ll make you feel any better, John and I would definitely join in if you agree to it, Brian.”

“Yeah, Brian,” John added. “Roger’s been begging me to put him in drag for ages now, we could make a night out of it. What do you say?”

Freddie smiled, hopefulness blooming anew on his face. Brian worried his bottom lip, tasting lip gloss on the tip of his tongue. It tasted like sweet peaches.

“So… what do you say, Brimi? Ladies night out at a drag club in full drag? I’ll make sure you’re extra pretty.”

Brian smiled softly despite himself, already knowing that he had lost this fight. Who was he kidding? He never stood a chance.

“Fine.” He agreed, taking Freddie’s warm hands in his. “On one condition.”

Freddie lit up exponentially, already thrumming with excitement and ideas. “Anything, love.”

“Promise me…. that we’ll be prettier queens than John and Roger.”

Freddie burst into laughter, throwing his arms around Brian while their two friends protested loudly off to the side.

FUCK OFF AND GET A DAMN ROOM, YOU WANKERS.

Brian joined his boyfriend laughing, kissing the side of his head as he held him close. A bit of lip gloss stained his temples, but Freddie couldn’t care less. He was just elated to be sharing another part of his world with Brian. His beautiful, sensational, and wonderful lover, Brian May.

He pulled away with a final kiss on Brian’s lips, then turned towards the camera.

“Well, that’s it guys! I just did my boyfriend’s makeup, and you heard it here first! Queen will be doing a drag night out - Coming to you soon!! Keep a lookout on all of our social media, which will be linked below in the description, and make sure you subscribe…”

Brian smiled to himself as he watched Freddie close out the video. He looked positively giddy, grinning from ear to ear, mind probably already designing the outfit he wanted Brian’s drag persona to wear. Well, he thought, he’s already been many things. A good son, good kid.

School nerd, space nerd. Rock musician, rock guitarist.

A closeted fool who once pined for another’s love; and now, an out and proud fool who was shamelessly in love with the love of his life.

Honestly, what harm could it possibly bring to add another thing to that list?

Besides, he thought to himself as Freddie slid onto his lap, if it made Freddie happy, then it was well worth doing, wasn’t it?

He saw Roger in the corner of his eye throwing his hands up in exasperation as John rushed to stop the camera’s recording; the set lights going dim a few moments later. John had all but dragged Roger out of the room by then, no doubt to get some alone time of their own - the horny bastards.

His attention was brought back to the man his arms when he felt Freddie leave his lap, moving to clear a space on the makeup table - just enough for him to hop up on, and beckon to Brian, legs spread apart oh so invitingly.

Brian wasted no time to stand between them, hands on Freddie’s hips while Freddie leaned back on his elbows, shamelessly smudged bottom lip between his teeth. Undoubtedly Brian knew his own makeup was probably ruined, but judging by his boyfriend’s reaction, it was far from an issue at that very moment.

In fact, it might well be the exact opposite of a problem.

Brian smirked. Oh yeah. Definitely worth it.

#frian #maycury #asks #replies #i'm sorry that i'm like this #my fics #my posts

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mysteryartisticwriter · 5 years

Text

Reality // Colin Ritman X Reader

A/N: As I promised, there is more ‘Bandersnatch’ fics to come, so here’s is my latest! But if you guys want, I will make this one shot into like a mini series. But just let me know what you would like :))

REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW

Requested: No

Warnings: Some profanity but I don’t think there’s much

PART 2 PART 3

Not my gif!! (Please tell me if you, the owner, would like me to take the gif down!)

Growing up, you and your brother always loved playing video games. To this day, you still played them together. It was like sibling bonding time for you both, since the two of you and your father had become distant since your mother’s death. Although, you and Stefan were close.

Since Stefan got the job, he’s been telling you all about the building, games and people he has met. Your twin had become one of Tuckersoft’s best programmers, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit jealous of him for it. Although, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, there was one main reason you desperately wanted to work there for.

Colin Ritman

Colin Ritman has been your’s and Stefan’s idol for years. He worked for Tuckersoft as well, so getting this job would mean meeting your number one idol. Stefan had already met him, claiming he was one of the best people he’s met.

He’s also pretty attractive as well

To make sure you landed the job, you worked tirelessly on your game ‘Bandersnatch’. It was like an adventure game but the choices you make affect the path you take. You based it off of the book your mother had of the same name. You wanted to make your game as closely related to the book as possible and give the player a lot of choices, but it’s lately taken a toll on you. You hoped it wouldn’t really affect you while you were making the game.

There were still many pathways to do, but Tuckersoft’s creator, Mr. Thakur, wanted to see the demo you had. You were ecstatic of course and today is the morning that you would show the. Stefan had already left this morning to go to work, saying he would be there to support you and your game once you’ve arrived to show it.

You were on your way to the company building itself, after having yet another awkward breakfast with your father of explaining the book a bit and taking your pills your therapist, Dr. Hanes, prescribed you. Stefan used to be her patient as well but gradually got better and stopped going. You on the other hand, were still forced to go by your dad.

Later, once you finally arrived at the tall building, you put your headphones and tapes away and you couldn’t help but stand in awe at it. It was pretty tall, taller than some buildings you’ve seen before. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. You were very anxious, but none the less, you finally stepped into the building.

You made it to the area filled with people and desks added with computers where you thought you would be able to find the company’s creator. Passing by a woman at a front desk who was answering and talking into the phone, you made your way farther into the building.

You then noticed a slightly large man wearing a stripe patterned suit walking around the area talking to some people. You recognized him as Mr. Thakur, the owner. He was talking to another guy while you slowly, but gradually made your way over to him. A few moments pass by and he finally noticed your presence.

“Ah! You are....Kaela!” He said.

“Actually, it’s (Y/n). I’m Stefan’s sister.” You corrected.

“Yeah right! Sorry, mate!” Mr. Thakur apologized and smiled brightly, although his smile seemed rather a bit...fake. You assured him it was fine and looked around.

“Sorry for the mess, we just moved in not too long ago!” He says, noticing you were taking in your surrounds.

You listened to what he says when you stopped and noticed the poster on your right on the way. It displayed the words ‘Metal Head’ with some of the letters in a different order. Mr. Thakur followed your gaze and saw your interest in the poster. He pointed to it and said his next words proudly.

“That’s Colin’s new one.” Hearing what he said, you immediately looked at him in a bit of shock.

“Colin Ritman?” You questioned, getting closer to him to make sure you heard him right. He nodded.

“Yup. That’s him over there. Talking to your brother.” He motioned over to your left where you saw your idol and your brother talking casually over a computer. Your face lit up with excitement. Colin looked just as cute and hot as you thought he would.

“He’s my idol. It’s crazy, I’ve played all of his games with my brother!” You almost squealed.

“Well let’s go say hello, then!” Mr. Thakur suggested. You looked at him with confusion.

“Are you sure he won’t mind? He’s working—“ Mr. Thakur interrupted you before you could say anything else.

“No no it’s fine.” He said as he gestures for you both to go over to him and your brother. He motions for you to be quiet and goes up behind Stefan and says in his ear which startles him.

“What’s this? Kajagoogoo?” Mr. Thakur laughs as Stefan jumps slightly. Stefan rolls his eyes at his boss.

“You wish.” Colin retorted back as he takes out another rolled-up cigar.

“Can you believe him? He’s made enough this year to buy a Lamborghini and he still smokes roll-ups.” The company owner said, leaning down to get into Colin’s face, who was sitting on the chair.

You lightly tap on Stefan’s left shoulder and he turns around to confront the person when he notices it’s you with a small smile on your face. He mirrors the smile in delight and hugs you tightly.

“Hey, (Y/n).” Your twin says.

“Hello Stefan. How’s work going?” You asked. Stefan shrugged slightly in response and turned around to introduce you to Colin.

“Colin, this is my twin sister.” He pointed towards you. You awkwardly smiled and put your hand out towards him as he lit his roll-up.

“(Y/n). (Y/n) Butler. I-I’ve played all your games with my brother. All of them! Except for the commodore ones. W-we don’t have a commodore.” You say.

You cringed internally at your words and hoped you didn’t come off too desperate. Colin looked at your hand before looking back to you.

“I’m Colin, yeah?” He responded, shaking your hand. You blushed and grinned at him before being pulled back by your brother in a protective manner. You almost rolled your eyes at his actions.

“This is my latest.” Colin fixed his gaze back onto his computer screen. His computer showed a title screen of a colorful game with the title ‘Nozedyve.”

“Colin was introducing me to his new game. It’s called ‘Nozedyve’.” Stefan told you, pointing to the screen.

The title screen scrolled down to a transition to a sprite game of a mini man falling through a few buildings while dodging some clothes on clothing line. You looked at the game in amazement while Stefan grinned at the developer.

Colin looked over to you while he played it and smiled over to you, happy he made you impressed. You couldn’t help but feel something bubble in your stomach when he smiled at you. You could physically feel your face burn up from his staring.

Just when Colin looked back at the computer screen, the game started to glitch before it crashed completely, changing to a white screen. Colin cursed before pressing some buttons to fix the game. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s that?” Mr. Thakur asked, just as confused as you were.

“It’s a buffer error. The eyeballs have overrun the video memory.” Colin explained. You looked at the screen in fascination.

“Oh yeah yeah yeah. Video memory. Yeah...I was gonna say that.” Mr. Thakur said, trying to explain himself. Stefan rolled his eyes again.

“So (Y/n), you’ve something to demo for us?” Stefan changed the subject. Colin looked over to you, his roll-up in between his lips, and smirked. This is gonna be fun, he thought.

A few minutes later, you, Stefan, Colin and Mr. Thakur went into the game company’s owner’s office to try out your latest demo. While going through it, you showed the others what was happening and explained the whole thing.

“See, it’s a like an adventure game. You choose the path.” Just as you explained it, one of the characters, Pax, showed up on screen. Two choices of ‘deny or worship Pax’ displayed on the screen, marking a choice point in the game.

“L-Like right here, we’ve come to a choice point and you have to pick between two choices and it affects what path you take. And he’s Pax, he’s the demon. You can choose between two choices. You’ve got ten seconds.” You said, still a bit anxious. You gestured toward the character on the screen.

Stefan gave you an impressed look, smiling at you and you copied it. Colin and Mr. Thakur look at the game in fascination.

“Worship him.” Colin told you as he shrugged his shoulders.

“N-no! Don’t do that! He’s the ‘Thief Of Destiny’! I-In the book at least.” You stuttered. Colin took the copy of ‘Bandersnatch’ that you brought and put on the table and glanced through it.

“I’ve got a copy of this at home. Never got a chance to reading it, though.”

“You should! Jerome F. Davies was a genius!” You informed him.

“Didn’t he go bonkers and cut his wife’s head off?” Colin questioned, placing the book on the desk.

“Well, yeah. Besides that.” You looked at Colin and he smiled at you in admiration, which caused you to blush. Stefan switched glances between the two of you and shook his head, not liking the looks you gave each other.

Suddenly, Mr. Thakur took the small game controller from you hands and moved the joy stick to go to ‘worship Pax’ and pressed the red button next to it. The screen flashed from black to white saying the words ‘OUT OF RANGE’. Mr. Thakur looked at it in confusion.

“W-what? What’s happened?” He asked.

“Well, I-I haven’t programmed that pathway yet.” You informed him.

After putting the controller on the desk, Mr. Thakur made a proposition for you. He said that you could write the game there at Tuckersoft and he would have a team work with you, Colin and Stefan included as well. While making your decision, your mind switched back and forth from yes to no.

Yes // No

Finally, you managed to accept it and push the other option away. Mr. Thakur clapped his hands in victory and Colin made a face of disappointment while Stefan clapped you on the back with a bright smile on his face.

But then, your new boss said that things were going to have to be changed in the game. Saying that they can’t fit 48k into a game, meaning they were going to have to shorten the game down by a bunch. Your grin disappeared and you looked down at your lap in realization at what you’ve done.

You’re whole mind was screaming that you made the wrong choice.

Lost in thought, you didn’t realize that Colin had come up to you until he put a hand on your shoulder and your gaze followed up at him. He squeezed your shoulder lightly in assurance.

“Sorry, love. Wrong path.” Colin winked at you, grinned at you then exited through the door. You didn’t notice your brother’s slight glare at Colin’s actions, as you were too focused on Colin’s body leaving the office.

~Five Months Later~

It was now Christmas and you, Stefan, and your dad were sitting on the couch together watching the telly. Christmas had now come around and with decorations all around your house, you and your family watched as ‘Microplay’, the show where a kid rates the newest games that had just come out, came on to give their verdict on your game, ‘Bandersnatch’.

“And that’s how ‘Bandersnatch’ works. But did it ‘snatch’ your respect?” The lady on the screen turned towards the kid who was standing next to several telly’s.

“I’m afraid not, Leslie. As you may know, this is the Tuckersoft’s first team created game but it’s the fact that the game is just way too short. Like someone just went halfway through it and released the quickest and fastest version they could.” The kid explained.

“I see. And your verdict?” The woman asked.

“No stars out of five. Terrible.” The kid confessed.

As the lady said something on screen, you replayed that first meeting in your head, thinking what choice you could have made to fix everything. Your hand was grabbed by Stefan’s in reassurance and he gave you a pitiful smile. Your dad turned off the telly and looked over to you.

“That kid knows nothing.” He tried to console you. You paid no attention to your brother or father.

“I should try again.” You said, mainly to yourself, and stood up. You walked out of the room and started to march your way up to your bedroom.

“(Y/n)—“ Stefan tried to talk to you but you interrupted him.

“I’m trying again!” You said looking back at him for a slight moment, a bit agitated at the moment.

That night, you went to bed and fell asleep. Trying to figure out what choice you could have made to make things better.

...

“Hey, (Y/n).” Your twin says.

“Hello Stefan. How’s work going?” You asked. Stefan shrugged slightly in response and turned around to introduce you to Colin.

“Colin, this is my twin sister.” He pointed towards you. You awkwardly smiled and put your hand out towards him as he lit his roll-up. Suddenly, Colin looked over to you in confusion.

“We’ve met before?”

Let me guys know if you want to make this into a mini series! I’m pretty sure I will but I just want your opinion on it :))

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turquoisemagpie · 5 years

Text

Hope Springs Eternal. (4)

Hope stared at Chase’s hand that lay motionless by his side as he lay on the couch. He had a blanket over his legs, a cold flannel on his forehead, and his eyes were cleaned from the blood. Hope had been staring at his wedding ring for a very long time; she felt numb from the lack of movement. The voices of the paramedics looped in her head: ‘There doesn’t seem to be any internal damage… It seems that he just fainted, there’s no signs to say it’s anything else… are you sure this is his own blood?... There are no visible signs of any ruptures in his eyes to cause his eyes to bleed… He seems stable… He just needs a rest… He may be a little disorientated when he wakes up… Just keep an eye on him if anything else happens.’

Hope finally looked up at her brother’s face. He looked as if he was sound asleep, his eyes moving lightly under his eyelids meant he was dreaming. The feeling that as soon as he would wake up, that he would happily act as if nothing happened, sent a shiver down Hope’s spine. But feeling that he wouldn’t wake up at all scared her further. She remembered all the times he talked about Jack. How helpless he felt when he visited him in hospital, and all he could do was sit by his side and talk, hoping Jack could hear him, and never knowing for sure if he could. Never knowing if his best friend would ever wake up.

Hope shook her head before the thought could get any more depressing. She took out her phone and flicked through her long list of contacts. Chase needed someone who would really help. He needed them now more than ever.

On seeing Stacy’s number, Hope pressed call and waited for a response.

“… Hope?” Stacy’s compressed voice said in question, “Is that you?”

“Yeah, it is. Hi, Stace. Are you busy?”

“Not right now, no, I just put the kids to bed. Why are you calling me?”

Hope noticed there was something off about Stacy’s voice, almost as if she was shock but also eagerly pleased to hear her.

“Chase isn’t doing so good here. I was wondering if you could come around.”

There was what sounded like a gasp at the other end of the line. “Chase is there?!”

“Yeah… He’s been at my place for over a month.”

There was a small shriek before Stacy continued in a voice of utter glee, “Oh my god, oh my god! He’s with you! Has he been there all this time?”

Hope was very confused. “Yes, of course he has, I told you so.”

“What? No, you didn’t!”

“I left a message on your phone!”

There was a pause until Stacy said, “I’ve not had any messages from you.”

“You mean you never knew he was here?!”

“No, not at all! He’s been missing for the past month!”

Hope stood up and began pacing. “What? And… and you didn’t think to call me? To ask if he was here?”

“I did!” Stacy responded, her voice was too loud to tell if she was still happy or becoming angry, “But every time I tried to call you, the phone acted as if the line had been cut. I thought you had moved out! And thinking that I thought, well, obviously Chase would know you moved out, so he wouldn’t have gone to you. So, we thought he’d completely left... or… or worse.”

“Did you try calling him?”

There was a small pause again as Stacy took deep breaths to calm herself down. “I’ve been calling him ever since, twice a day since he left, once in the morning and a last time in the evening. No response.”

Hope had a thought and felt awful realising she had to tell Stacy what she just thought. “He… changed his phone.”

“What? Why? Why would he do that?”

“You tell me! I have just about as much of an idea of what’s going on as you do!” Hope sat back down on the chair beside Chase. “Listen, Stace. Whatever’s going on, it’s something Chase knows about and has kept it in the dark. From the both of us. He’s clearly been trying to hide it from us, but now it’s gotten too much for him. He’s here at my place right now. He’s on the couch, completely out cold, and I… I don’t know what to do. Can you please just get over here?”

“I’ve just got in the car. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Ok. Drive safe. I’ll see you soon.”

Hope hung up the phone. She buried her head in her hands and growled like an animal as she sighed. She dragged her hands away from her face and looked at Chase. She would slap him across the face if he wasn’t passed out.

As she put her phone away in her right pocket, from her left pocket she took out Chase’s phone. She stared at it as she held down the lock button again to turn it on. There was a sudden flash as the screen turned on and the home screen faded to view. There were no more unread messages. Hope clicked on Chase’s contacts, knowing Chase would have put his work number and address in it, and she scrolled carefully through all the list of names. She found ‘work’ and clicked on the contact. A face appeared on the screen.

Hope jolted in shock as a loud blast of sound accompanied the emotionless face that appeared. The sound stopped, then returned and buzzed and shrieked and hissed, the screen flashed in glitched cubes of red, grey and green. But the face remained on it. Her brother’s face. But this wasn’t her brother.

Other images flashed onto the screen, words and numbers, a map of streets, the words and numbered assorted themselves to form an address, and the map zoomed in on a building, the name of the building matched the address bleaching brightly into Hope’s eyes. The face returned, this time he was grinning; his teeth looked sharp and sinister, and irises of his eyes glowed a bright green. As the screen went black the disordered chorus of electronic noise suddenly ended until only a light buzzing was left. There was a voice that whispered, broken and chilling:

‘See you soon.’

The phone turned itself off.

When Stacey arrived, she hugged Hope tightly as the pair of them greeted each other at the front door. As they parted from the hug Hope could see she was already crying, and she led Stacey into the lounge where, on seeing Chase, Stacey rushed to his side and gently held his face in her hands. She wept as she called his name, kissing his forehead every few seconds and looking back to him, seemingly hoping each kiss would bring him closer to waking up. Hope couldn’t stand to see it without feeling the urge to cry, so she went into the kitchen and made two cups of tea, pausing for a few seconds at each step she took so she could hear Stacey in the other room. The more she heard Stacey’s sobs, the more Hope began to see why they got married in the first place. Why they had kids. Why, even though they fell out and parted from each other for a while, they still always came crawling back to one another. She really did love him. And Hope knew Chase really loved her. It was such a shame that whatever was tearing the pair of them apart was going to do so until either it died, or they did. An endless cycle.

With every blink Hope took, she took a few more blinks. The address and images of the building that flashed from the screen was still bleached onto the surface of her eyeballs. It had been nearly an hour and she just couldn’t get rid of the burning images. And now the address was moving from her eyes to her mind. She couldn’t stop thinking about the building, to the point where she was starting to map out the route from her house to the building.

She took the cups of tea into the lounge. Stacey was sitting by Chase’s side, holding his hand and rubbing her thumb comfortingly across his knuckles, lightly twisting the wedding ring on his finger. She didn’t bother to look up as Hope entered the room and set the cups down on the coffee table. Hope sat down and took her cup, taking small sips as not to make too much noise.

“I just walked into his room, literally less than a minute after he walked into the room, and just found him on the floor, completely knocked out.” Hope neglected to tell Stacey about the bleeding eyes. “I’m not sure what happened to him, but the paramedics said he was fine. He just needs time to wake up.”

Stacey nodded silently. She just kept looking at Chase.

“I’m really sorry.” Hope said, “I honestly didn’t know you had no idea where he went. He never told me. He just said… he said you two had another falling out. That you kicked him out… And I didn’t want to call you to talk about it because it was clearly an issue between the two of you… But I started to doubt him when he said he was going to try and call you and make up for it, and never did. There was definitely something bothering him.”

“He didn’t even leave a note.” Stacey suddenly said, “Not like any of the ones he left before. He just went to work… and didn’t come home… Because he didn’t leave a note I started to think something had happened to him, like he was… kidnapped… or killed… I didn’t think he had… you know… because if he did, he would have left a note.”

Hope put her tea cup down on the table. “I’m so sorry. You must have missed him.”

“The kids certainly did. More than me… They kept asking when daddy was coming home. And every time I said he’d be back tomorrow… Tomorrow would come, no sign of him, so they’d ask me again… Last week I snapped and just told them I didn’t know when daddy was coming back… my oldest understood what I meant, but the young’un still hasn’t grasped the concept.”

A small smile tried to pull Hope’s face. “Well, they won’t have to worry now. Because he’s didn’t go away forever. He’s still here.” She gave a weak laugh.

Stacey smiled, and brushed the hair out of her face. “Yeah. For now.”

Hope picked up her tea cup again and traced her finger around the edge of the cup, gazing lazily at the symmetry of circles of the cup’s edge and the liquid within. She asked Stacey, “When he fell out with you in the past… what was it usually about?”

Stacey sat back in her chair and took her cup of tea in her hands. “It started a few years after we had our second child.” She said, “He just started to act weird. I thought it was just the stress of his office job. He’d come home from work and you’d catch him just staring off into space. I kept finding him… doing odd things, like suddenly stopping what he was doing, dropping whatever he was carrying… Like he had seen a ghost or something.” She took a sip of tea. “…Then he started… to do random things, like twitching here and there, going into odd moments of panic attacks, holding… knives in such a way that… he looked like he was going to destroy something… I started getting scared, and whenever I confronted him he said odd things.”

“Like what?”

“Things like… ‘his body is mine’… ‘leave the puppet be’… and he’d just giggle here and there, he’d laugh in a way I’d never heard him laugh before. It was creepy.” Stacey put her cup down and rubbed her arms as if she was cold. “… Eventually he stopped acting odd, but he just became very… spontaneous. He made rash decision like quitting his job to do his own work in making videos. I was a little disappointed with him, but he assured me he was doing what he loved, and that was making him a better person… And I understand that… I just wish he didn’t leave getting the money in to feed the kids and keep the house all to me. I got stressed, which got me angry. And I felt bad because after he quit his job he seemed happy with what he was doing. So, I ended up holding it all back until… I just snap.” Stacey looked at Chase for a second before looking down at her own hands, almost shamefully. “I feel awful afterwards. I feel bad for the kids. They have to see us constantly fighting.”

Hope stood up and headed for the coat rack by the front door. She could hold back anymore, the address in the back of her mind was practically calling her, screaming at her. Something was there, something that would answer everything. After slipping on her coat she came back into the lounge and told Stacey, who looked on confused, “I don’t know what’s wrong with Chase, but I’m going to find out. I’ll be back… soon, but for now, can you stay with him until he wakes up?”

Stacey looked at her husband for a second then looked to Hope and nodded.

“Thank you.” She disappeared into the hallways and headed for the door. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll figure all of this out, even if it fucking kills me.”

#magpie ramblings #magpie writings #chase brody #antisepticeye #septic egos #hope springs eternal

75 notes · View notes

langstwhynot · 6 years

Text

Formers (3)

A quick update on this wip

Warnings: blood(?), grammar mistakes.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The wind blew what was left from the leaves on the almost naked trees around the cold watered lake. The dark sky ceiling cued of a later time of the day, also letting the white stars to shine aside with the moon down to light Lance’s sight.

Lance pulled the jacket around his body into a hug in need to get warmer from the cold wind brushing on his skin. He shivered and straightened up his head to look around.

But there was no sign of any other creature. He could see his blue bike parked next to the metal fence of the road near by, and the dark blue water of the lake he stood in front of. The trees that surrounded his every exit except from the one to the open road stood and from time to time fell over a bit from the strong cold wind.

Lance sighed and took his phone out of one of his jacket pockets. It immediately powered on from noticing movements and showed Lance the lock screen. Lance checked the time.

22:34.

He sighed again and put his phone back into his pocket, starting to walk over to his bike.

He didn’t know if to be relieved or disappointed. He wanted to know what was wrong with him, and why all this pain is becoming stronger and stronger with each day. But he was also afraid. Afraid of that creepy girl that showed next to his hospital bed a few days ago, afraid of what will happen, afraid that she’s just crazy and she does not know anything.

Afraid of what she’ll say.

Maybe it’ll be true? Maybe she’s not crazy? Maybe she can help him figure out the pain he had to suffer from, for all of his childhood and now. He didn’t know what to think, he didn’t know what to do.

That was until a cold hand reached his shoulder, but it also felt like it burned his skin.

Lance felt it, he felt that instinct, kick inside of him and take control over his tired form. He felt like his whole body lit on fire as it also met with the cold air of the outside world.

That something burned inside of him, it wanted so desperately to jump out of Lance and take over his body. Lance felt that something’s need of killing the one threatening him, like it powered up out of nothing.

And for a split second, he saw a welcoming face when he turned around.

For that split second, all of these feelings ached in Lance’s bones and chest.

So when that split second, happened, and his vision became unfocused and his legs weakened, he threw a punch over to the person in front of him and stumbled to the ground.

He was shaking as he held himself up from the dirt underneath him. He turned his head slowly to see the person who Lance punched (or was supposed to), only to meet with nothing but black smoke.

“What the hell.”

Lance turned his head to the other side, to where the voice came from. He hissed when it ached even more with the movement and sat backwards on his knees.

“And I thought I was the violent one.”

Lance slowly opened his eyes to see a hand reaching down to him. He looked up to the person.

“Ugh... Taya?” He asked, blinking again to make sure he’s not dreaming. She nodded and took Lance’s hand from his grip on his head, pulling him up to stand.

“Wha...” Lance looked around, he was still in the same place. His bike a few feet away from him and the lake was still shining from the moonlight. “You...” he turned to Taya, who had a confused expression on her face.

“I waited half an hour for you!! Where have you been?! It’s freaking cold!!” Lance jumped back as he threw his arms in the air. “Sorry, I had to bring my mom.” She said and pointed with her thumb backwards on a short lady with a yellow coat and dark brown hair.

Lance flinched and leaned forward to whisper to Taya. “W-why is she here?”

“You said you wanted answers didn’t you? So don’t question anything.” Taya raised her eyebrow and turned over to her mom. “Ready when you are.”

Her mom nodded and walked over to the lake. She closed her eyes and raised her hands above the water.

“How am I supposed to get answers if I can’t question anything?” Lance murmured under his breath, but noticed Taya’s mother working on whatever she did, and Taya starting to step over to her.

“No, wait, Taya.” Lance caught her by her wrist and pulled her back. She turned back to him with an annoyed look. Lance took a deep breath. “Can I... ask? Just a few questions!! Before we go...? To wherever you gonna take me?”

She shrugged. “Fine, I guess I would have wanted to ask something too if a stranger would tell me they know the solution to my problems. Go ahead.”

Lance sighed with relief. “Ok, first, why did you want me to meet you here?” He said, and as the question left his mouth he stumbled back and gasped. “Are you going to kill me?!”

“What?”

“No!! I don’t wanna die!! I’m too young! I- I didn’t get to meet my future partner and- and, I haven’t finished school yet! And my mom! Oh god, she’s gonna be so freaked out-“

“Lance!!” Taya snapped, which caused Lance to stop talking and look in horror into her eyes. “I’m not going to kill you, idiot. I told you to meet me here because that’s our only way to enter there.”

Lance relaxed. His shoulders fell back as he sighed and held his head. “Wait... where exactly is it, there?” He asked when Taya’s answer repeated in his mind. “I can’t... exactly explain, but you’ll need to trust me.” She said and crossed his arms.

“Any other questions?” She said impatiently. Lance nodded quickly. “Why can’t you just tell me what’s wrong with me?” He hugged himself again, closing the jacket around his chest. “Because I don’t know exactly, what’s wrong with you. But I know what is happening to you.” Lance raised his eyebrow in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

“Of course you don’t!” She laughed. “Ugh, you stupid humans.” After that she turned around and started walking over to her mom. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” Lance ran after her. She grinned but didn’t answer.

Now the two stood near the short woman, that apparently was Taya’s mother. Lance looked at her and noticed her eyes were closed and her hands started to shine in red color as the lake did. He gasped at the blood color the lake turned into and held into Taya’s arm, but she quickly pulled away with a growl.

Lance looked at her mother again, and she snapped her eyes open, the same red color appearing in her eyeballs. Then it calmed down and her eyes turned to the gold-ish color it was before. She took her arms down when the color disappeared from her hands but didn’t left the lake and turned to face Taya. “Be safe, sweetie.” And Taya crouched so her mother would give her a forehead kiss. “I will mom.” Taya hugged her mother. “Thank you.” She continued.

“And be more gentle with the boy.” She whispered into her ear as the two hugged, and Taya rolled her eyes. “No promises.”

Her mother chuckled and pulled away from the hug, a hand still resting on Taya’s shoulder. “Say hello to your mother for me.” She smiled softly but with pain in her eyes and her daughter nodded.

They let go of each other and her mother backed away, letting Taya look down to the lake and then turn to Lance. “Alright pretty boy, we’re gonna jump into that lake.” She said and Lance grinned, “Aw, you called me pretty bo- wait what?” but it faded away really fast.

“We are gonna go for a swim.” She was the one to grin now. “As much as I like swimming, it’s freaking cold and being sick isn’t actually as fun as it sounds.” Lance backed away from the lake, but Taya caught his wrist. “I thought you wanted to find the truth.” She said while looking into his eyes with a serious look. Lance nodded slowly. “Great,” She let go. “Then I suggest you’ll take off your coat.”

As she turned around to look into the red watered lake, Lance was studying her back. Was she serious? Was she crazy?

He shrugged. Guess there’s only one way of finding out.

“Ok.” Taya turned to Lance, her back to the lake. “I’m gonna disappear for a while, but we’ll meet on the other side, aye?” She winked and leaned backwards into the lake before Lance could respond, her arms are open to the sides as her back met the red water and she disappeared like she was never there.

“What the-?!” Lance jumped away from the lake, eyes looking in horror at the waves in the lake that were caused by Taya’s body who was swallowed by the water into nothing. A small hand reached for his shoulder and his whole body lit on fire again, but it calmed down when the woman gripped his shoulder a bit stronger and one of her fingers pressed on his neck. He calmed down.

“Everything is going to be ok.” Taya’s mom talked quietly with a soft smile. Lance turned to her, terrified. “How did you-“ She laughed. “Calmed your senses? It doesn’t matter right now.” Her eyebrows fell along with her face into a worried expression. “What does matter is that you need to find who you are, Lance.” She let go of his shoulder and held her hands together, close to her body. “Do as she did and I promise you, you won’t regret that.”

Lance breathes were fast as he looked down to Taya’s mom, but took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the situation sink in his mind and repeat over and over again. He opened his eyes and rubbed his face to make sure it was all real, and then turned to the red lake.

“Ok,” He whispered, mostly to himself. “You can do this.” He murmured as he stepped slowly over to the lake. “Just take a deep breath, in and out.” He did as his own orders until he stood a feet in front of the lake.

He looked down to the bright red liquid that reminded him of blood, or tomato juice. He couldn’t decide. He leaned forward a bit more and noticed his own reflection, but instead his regular blue eye, his two whole eyeballs were bright white and he had something in his back. Lance flinched and pulled his head back. He can do this, he can do this he can do this he can do this he can do this-

One last deep breath.

Lance turned around so his back was to the lake and his arms opened wide. He closed his eyes and opened them, taking a last glance on the waving woman holding his coat that somehow she got. He let his legs free and for his feet to leave their grip on the ground, and he fell backwards. Into the water.

#formers #langst #lance mcclain #lance vld #langstwhynot #voltron #vld #voltron legendary defender #vld lance #voltron lance #lance voltron #formers 3

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lemon-dropshot · 6 years

Text

Day 17 - Royalty

Phanniemay 2018

Not A King

“Are you really going to let a 15 year old rule?”

“Clockwork,” an observant strayed from the assembly, floating briskly over to the time ghost with an amused demeanor. “Of all people, I would think you would be one to support the boy’s ruling. After all, you’ve taken quite a liking to him.”

The taller of the two shifted from his grandfatherly form to his adult. “I don’t mean to say that I wouldn’t support Daniel, but is it truly wise to let a high schooler rule the land? While this might result in a better timeline as opposed to a timeline with no ruler, the boy will struggle with balancing both his human and ghost identities.”

Observants, no matter how they display themselves personality-wise, will always put the timeline first and foremost. That being said, they would not feel even the slightest bit remorseful for dumping an entire dimension on an adolescent who already has too much to worry about. Honestly, Clockwork wasn’t surprised when the observant he was talking to simply nodded and headed back to their station without another word of rebuttal. In fact, it hadn’t even been a likely possibility that one would answer his question at all.

He supposed young Daniel would have to just “deal with it,” as many high schoolers nowadays said. There were already numerous responsibilities on both his human and ghost halves to preserve, but hopefully the boy would find some joy in leading. After all, Clockwork himself lead the observants (or at least tried to) while watching the progress of every timeline and reality in existence.

And so, within the next week young Daniel was brought to the tower with no knowledge of what to expect, other than the letter the time ghost left for him on his dresser that asked him to attend a meeting.

Of course with Daniel Fenton would always come Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley. The three friends went together in most nearby timeline occurrences, so Clockwork made sure to save three seats in the front pew.

“Hey Clockwork! We’re here!” There really was no need for the halfa to shout; Clockwork was floating next to his monitors, which wasn’t far from the open doors.

“Ah, so you are.” His red eyes swept over the three of them. “I believe the observants have some interesting news for you, Daniel.”

The boy in question nervously stepped behind his friends, who both spared him anxious glances. Tucker cleared his throat, speaking instead. “This isn’t about, uh, Dan, is it?”

“I’m afraid this may be worse than Dark Dan.” The ghost sighed, looking towards the dented thermos across the tower floor. “Although he has been acting rather odd lately.” Danny gulped, his eyes following the other’s line of sight.

“So what… is this about?”

Clockwork pinched the bridge of his nose, his hood shifting forward as he floated towards a lower placed monitor. He directed it upwards to the humans’ eye level with his staff, showing them a screen of the tiring fight between Daniel and the former king. “Since you defeated Pariah Dark, the observants have deemed it entirely appropriate to crown Daniel king of the ghost zone.”

All three teens froze for a moment, their jaws slack. What could one even respond with to a statement such as that? Being king was an honor, usually, but not for a child, and most certainly not for one who is at a rivalry with most every ghost he has encountered.

“M-me? King?” Danny held his finger pointing at his core. “But what about all the ghosts that hate me? I can’t be king!”

Sam snapped out of her trance, shoving a hand down on Danny’s shoulder. “Yes he can!” She corrected, grinning down at her bewildered friend. Tucker looked back up at the screen in awe.

“How cool would it be to rule a kingdom? You could finally show up all your enemies, Danny!”

“I…” The shorter boy paused, looking down at the tower floor. At a loss of words, he loosely fiddled with the white split-ends of his hair, before giving up and turning human to tug at the bottom of his shirt. “I’m not fit to be a king.”

Clockwork faintly smiled at the bashful teenager. “I know.”

“If Danny doesn’t want to be king, then can he pass the job off to someone else?” The two human boys perked up at Sam’s suggestion, then anxiously turned to the time ghost for his response.

The ghost lightly chuckled. “That’s why I invited you three here today. Hopefully, you can convince the observants to choose another ruler of this reality. They refuse to listen to anyone but the possible timelines.” Clockwork smiled somewhat darkly. “But if Daniel denies the position, then they cannot force him to accept it.”

“Since Danny doesn’t wanna be king, can I be the king?” Sam laughed and shoved the joking techno-geek away. Danny snorted loudly at Tucker’s expense, holding out a hand to help him up from where he fell on the floor.

“Clockwork, do not tell me you are influencing the boy’s decision.” The three teenagers immediately startled at the new voice that floated into the room.

“And what does that matter?” The time ghost slowly turned towards the observant that rudely interrupted. “It is ultimately Daniel’s decision whether or not to allow persuasion.”

The observant heavily sighed, their large eyeball rolling around as if a human child. “It is time for the meeting.” They gestured to the young boy, ignoring his friends, to follow them. Irritated, Sam burned a hole through the back of their head with her glare.

Suddenly stopping, the observant turned to Danny and looked him up and down, unimpressed. “You should transform into your ghostly form.” After he did, no one said a word as they four dutifully followed the observant.

When they finally reached the large assembly room, it was filled to the brim with hundreds of observants, all staring down at them as they entered the doors. Taking a shaky breath, Danny nervously glanced up at Clockwork, who was failing at hiding a smirk. He didn’t feel as confident.

They were then guided to the front row of clothed pews. Since when did leather survive in the ghost zone?

“Daniel Fenton, a half-human half-ghost, and conqueror of past ruler Pariah Dark, is the rightful heir to the throne. Of the possible timelines discovered, a new successor of Phantom is the sixth most likely occurrence, and the one of the more desirable, as compared to a future timeline of human extinction, and a future timeline of chaos among ghost kind.”

Clockwork slightly slid down in his seat, hoping to help ease the nerves of the three teenagers. “They only know that because they keep sneaking into my tower at night and sifting through timelines.” The first chuckle came from Sam, who clamped a hand over her mouth as soon as she did so. Some observants sitting nearby bristled at her rude behavior.

Danny, while smiling at the ghost’s snark, was perplexed. Would someone bring up his human realm crimes? His thousand year sentence of Walker’s prison? He knew could prove he was innocent, but how many would believe him? Absorbed in his own thoughts, he failed to realize that the room had gone completely silent.

Sam nudged his arm with her elbow. He looked up to find that every eye was focused him, a boy who was fiddling his thumbs together and sweating immensely. He gulped, standing up on his shaking legs. They were waiting for an answer to a question he hadn’t heard. He supposed he only had one answer, anyway.

“I don’t- I can’t accept the position. Sorry.”

There were appalled murmurs throughout the congregation. Danny looked down at his friends, who were smiling proudly at him (although Tucker looked a bit upset at the fact that he wasn’t suggested as a replacement ruler). Clockwork, however, had such an unreadable expression that Danny started to question if he had truly made the right decision.

The single observant on the stage tapped their microphone twice to call order and attention. “Daniel Fenton has denied himself as the rightful ruler to the Ghost Zone. A case like this has only happened once before, in which a ghost has chosen another to lead.” The ghost paused, coughing away from the speaker into their fist. “That, of course, was before our knowledge of the timelines. Now, we must resort to a further possibility.” In the audience, three teenagers leaned forward in their pew.

An observant from across the wide room floated up from those around them. They cleared their throat quickly. “The ninth most possibility seems adequate.” Another observant three rows down from the first stood up in disagreement.

“The ninth most possibility will soon crumble into a disaster! I say we should use the thirteenth most.”

“The thirteenth most probable?! That would be the unluckiest of them all!”

Clockwork, having predicted the outcome of an argument, was already guiding himself and the three teenagers out of the room. Let the observants fight, while he figures out a solution himself, but the humans would not need to see it happen.

In the hallway, Sam crossed her arms. “So what will happen to the Ghost Zone? Who’s gonna lead, if not Danny?”

“Well, Samantha, we shall wait and see.” The time master chuckled. “Personally, I believe the second most possible occurrence would be an excellent choice, no matter how unwilling the observants see it fit.”

Tucker blinked. “What’s the second possibility?” A knowing glint appeared in Clockwork’s eye.

“Oh, you mustn’t worry over that. Just do not be alarmed if any ghosts start to appear… unusual.”

Danny peered up at the time ghost. “What do you mean by that?”

Clockwork simply smirked at the question.

#danny phantom #sam manson #tucker foley #clockwork #ghost king au #well kinda not but #phanniemay #phanniemay18 #day 17 #royalty #mystuff #writing!!#late but here #dpart #dpwriting

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renaroo · 7 years

Text

Double Time (14/24)

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence Pairings: Tuckington, Chex Rating: T Synopsis: [Hero Time Sequel] After the events of Hero Time, the city and Blood Gulch are prepared for the true return of superheroes in a big way. But while Washington is attempting to adjust to a new relationship and a new living arrangement, the call of new heroes and a new mayor mean major changes for his professional life as well as his personal one. How will the balance of values fare when his new partners come to test everything he’s made of.

A/N: Plot plot plot we’re starting to come all together and I’m so excited to be on this ride wth you all <3

Special thanks to @secretlystephaniebrown, @notatroll7, @analiarvb, Enmuse, Yin, @a-taller-tale, @thepheonixqueen, @spooky-circuits, @washingtonstub, @icefrozenover, and @the-space-nerd-97 on AO3 and tumblr for the wonderful feed back! I truly appreciate it more than you know.

Delegation Time

“I hope you have enough brains to realize that it’s completely ridiculous how high tech your apartment equipment is but you never use the internet,” Church grouched, hood up and robotic eyes glowing through the shade as he typed on Tucker’s laptop. “I mean, who doesn’t have a personal computer these days? And you’re asking me to use the keyboard from Mister Stickyfingers himself.”

“Hey, don’t hate on me. I never thought anyone else would be touching my computer,” Tucker defended, leaning against the back of the couch coolly. It was his feeble attempt to seem like he wasn’t losing his mind trying to make sure that Church wasn’t looking at anything embarrassing.

Washington didn’t quite understand the paranoia the situation held for Tucker.

“This would go a lot quicker if you let Church hook up directly to the interphase like he suggested earlier,” Wash pointed out to Tucker.

Tucker’s eyes flickered immediately toward Wash. “Yeah, that’s not happening. Or did you forget we have...”

Wash squinted back at him. “We have what?”

For a moment, Tucker attempted to sign something to Wash with the raising and lowering of his eyebrows a few times. When that didn’t work he went for a full body shrug. “Wash, the... the photos.”

Staring back at Tucker blankly, Wash tilted his head. “Photos?”

“The photos,” Tucker pressed.

Suddenly, Washington perfectly understood the paranoia the situation held for Tucker.

“Why are you keeping those on your computer!?” Wash demanded.

“Why do you think the keyboard is sticky!?” Tucker fired back.

Church held up his hands to stop them both. “Stop! Desist! I cannot keep pretending to be deaf here. Okay? I’m going to delete my entire memory of this conversation as soon as everything’s settled here. And I hope you both know you’re fucking stupid and act like horny teenagers.”

Taken aback, Wash waved to his chest. “Me? A horny teenager? I understand saying that about Tucker--”

“What the fuck, Wash,” Tucker said, throwing his arms in the air.

“Okay done,” Church declared, shoving the laptop from his lap to the coffee table. “Both of you shut the fuck up, I finished your stupid pet project, and it’s time for you two to leave me alone even if I’m your tech guy because putting together a compilation of all the angles and footage of this non-event for you is one thing, but having to listen to your relationship up close and personal is honest to god mortifying. May we never speak of this again.”

"Thank you... Church... I suppose” Wash said, though the sentiment seemed foreign and distasteful on his own tongue.

Tucker took a moment to glance back and forth between them before shoving Church out of the way and sliding into his preferred spot on the couch. “Yeah, yeah, what the fuck ever, Church. I don’t want to hear it. Do you know how many nights you and Tex were having sex and I could hear you through those paper thin walls? Fucksake. How’s a guy supposed to masturbate?”

“Oh, like it stopped you,” Church snorted, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, it probably helped,” Tucker said back before physically freezing. “Wait what.”

“Wait what,” Church said at the same time.

There was then a long, uncomfortable silence between the former roommates as if there was a dawning realization on them both. Washington really wasn’t sure what to think about it. “Tucker? Church?”

“Oh my god I forgot about that night,” Tucker gasped.

“We’re never supposed to talk about that, you promised,” Church responded almost viciously.

“You were crying--”

“GODDAMMIT, TUCKER, I TOLD YOU IT WASN’T THE BAD KIND OF CRYING--”

Not sure what else was within his powers to do at that point, Washington held up his hands and released a resounding clap to draw the other two supposed-adults’ attention back to him and the present. Tucker looked amused and befuddled, Church simply looked irate.

“The video! Please!” Wash begged. “I... I literally cannot take another word of this conversation.”

Tucker grew a put off expression. “Wash, ridiculous fucking conversations are my entire life. On repeat. You have to accept that part of me as much as you accept the part of me that takes pictures in the bedroom.”

“I never accepted that part, it just happened! And you’ve got them saved on your computer now!” Wash cried out.

“So you don’t like the me that takes photos of us?” Tucker asked.

“What is with you lately?” Wash demanded, nearly grabbing for his hair. “How come you turn everything I say into an argument? I don’t understand--”

“Because you never fight back!” Tucker yelled.

“I don’t want to fight you!” Wash snapped.

“No, you just want to sit back and judge and make snide comments about things in my life you don’t approve of while I’m not allowed to have any say so in the parts of your life that annoy the goddamn shit out of me!” Tucker snarled.

“What do I do that annoys you?” Wash demanded. “Tell me or I can’t fix it, Tucker, that’s how communication works.”

“Does it, Wash? Because I thought communication was for you to roll out of a moving vehicle rather than spend time with me and my friends when we’re not fucking or dealing with your superhero bullshit that you bring home!” Tucker growled. “Not to mention the fact that now you’re taking Junior and putting him out there on the line, too! Like what the fuck kind of conversation do you want to have?”

“Fine! I’ll stop being snide!” Wash agreed. “But you have to stop having yelling contests with me rather than just tell me what’s bothering you!”

“You know what bothers me?” Tucker demanded. “The fact that you shed on the pillows and bed linings!”

Despite himself, Washington reflexively gasped. “I told you I have a condition. I can’t help that.”

“Yeah, the condition is you’re part goddamn cat and you fucking act like it! Never cuddling when I want it, just when you want it, and then randomly you’ll bring up the fact that I wear socks to bed and scoot away!”

“It’s not that you wear socks to bed, it’s where you wear your socks that isn’t as original or funny as you think it is after the eighteenth time!” Wash cried out.

“Oh my fucking god, it is my responsibility to humanity to put a stop to this conversation before it gets more disgusting,” Church announced before reaching forward and pressing play with the spacebar only for the spacebar to stay down. “Jesus christ, Tucker, I’m buying you a flesh light. This is disgusting.”

“Good, because I know who’s not getting any,” Tucker decreed.

Washington opened his mouth to protest that that wasn’t as much of a punishment as Tucker seemed to think it was when the videos all began playing on the screen.

Each video was timed to correspond despite being from very different angles, and some squares were left blank, only to join up and sync with the others as the videos progressed.

Instantly intrigued, Washington leaned in and tried to get a sense of the videos and how they were all in one way or another pointed toward the building which had exploded just in the moments before its explosion. For the moment being, it was him and Felix on the roof talking. But there was no sound.

“Why can’t I hear anything?” Wash asked.

“Yeah this is kinda boring,” Tucker huffed.

“Because I was annoyed listening to thirteen different teenagers either narrating a livestream like they’re the first geniuses ever to catch superheroes on camera, or mouth breathers who were fucking with their shit and causing nothing but rustling,” Church answered, leaning back against the couch with his arms crossed. “You’re welcome, by the way. I also took care of the shaky cam because none of these fuckers have apparently heard the virtues of stabilizing before.”

“None of what you just said makes sense to me,” Wash said, watching the screen intently.

Still, he could feel Church’s eyeballs burning into the side of his skull.

“What century are you from? Goddamn,” Church marveled.

“This one?” Wash deadpanned as he continued to watch the footage.

It was annoying that he could not hear their conversation -- for some reason, while he remembered the gist of it, the specifics, their words were a fog in Wash’s mind. Like he had barely witnessed it himself at all. A part of him was hoping to clear that up through the camera but apparently that was all for naught.

Then, he could see it. Wash watched himself jump back reflexively from the bright spark of one of Locus’ explosives land between them.

But, weirdly enough, Felix did not have any reaction at all. He was standing confidently, staring at Wash as if nothing had just crashed down between them. That was odd to Washington, since he had not figured Felix for that sort of inexperience. But what truly bothered him was how smug Felix looked despite the intensity of the moment.

Surely he hadn’t appeared that cocky in their conversation. Wash hadn’t remembered the desire to outright punch the fellow superhero.

Then, there were two flashes, one after the other. So quick, it was difficult to tell them apart, but Wash caught the faint difference.

Those Felix reacted to, but not in the way that Washington had been anticipating for him to. Instead of bounding away from the ensuing explosion, he seemed to turn his attention toward the streets.

And Wash...

Well, to Wash’s astonishment, he wasn’t there after the flashes at all, and suddenly the explosion occurred, the building went up in flames, and soon Locus emerged dragging Felix.

A few of the cameras panned across the street to where Washington appeared almost miraculously.

“Whoa,” Tucker said, glancing in Wash’s direction. “When’d you start moving that fast.”

“I can’t,” Wash said simply. “I have no idea how I got out of the explosion. Maybe a concussive force from the explosion, but I didn’t feel like it--”

“Dude, no concussive force would have that trajectory for you to land perfectly on the other side of the street.” Church snorted. “Trust me, I went to the academy and they wouldn’t shut the hell up about this shit. By the way, letting your guard down, Wash? Newbie mistake. If I were still arching? You’d be stone cold dead for sure.”

“Whatever, Wash would kick your ass,” Tucker snorted.

“Not my ass, don’t you remember my Alphabots?” Church argued.

“Oh, yeah. Where’d those things go, anyway--”

“Wait,” Wash interrupted. “Didn’t either of you notice that Felix had no reaction to the bomb? I mean, I may have let my guard down. Maybe. But he never had a guard. He was more worried about where I went than the explosion under his own feet.”

“Sounds like usual goody-two-shoes hero bullshit to me,” Church said with a huge roll of his eyes.

Ignoring Church’s usual bastion of optimism, Wash pointed toward the screen. “Church, can you take the footage back some and slow it down? To the second where I disappeared from the roof?”

That earned Washington an indignant look if he’d ever seen one. “Do you two not know how to do anything beyond plug in an Xbox?”

“Dude, how dare you suggest we wouldn’t ask you to do that, too,” Tucker joked.

“Please,” Wash tried with about as much sincerity as he could muster. Which, given, was not much considering the circumstances.

Church continued to give him a dull look before opening up the video files again and beginning to move his fingers so quickly across the keyboard that Tucker’s disgusting buttons could hardly keep up.

But when they finally operated accordingly, Wash got what he wanted -- slowed down video of the moments that took him from the rooftop to the safety of the sidewalk in the instant of a flash.

He had been right. There were definitely two distinct flashes, one before the explosion, and one pursuing it. And it was within the pursuing flash that everything in the images where Wash was blurred to a single, pixelated mesh of color. Gray, blue, yellow.

But, for a moment, Wash could swear there was more blue than the moment before.

Then he was gone from the screen until the pan down.

“Something happened there,” Wash said decisively, pointing at the screen “Can you see it?”

“What? The blur? Or the blur?” Tucker asked with a yawn.

“How can you say that’s just a blur? This saved my life, the least we can do is get to the bottom of this,” Wash said, putting a hand to his chin. “My hero partner back when I was with the sidekick program taught me the basics of detective work. I need to go back to the scene and look for clues. Find Felix and talk to him about what he remembers. Then I need to ask the Reds to cover patrolling Blood Gulch for the night. Maybe I could get someone else to cover training tomorrow and--”

Wash looked up when he heard the most disgusted noise a robot could make coming from Church who stared at him dully.

“You have something you need to say, Church?” Wash asked with a raise of his brow.

“Yeah, you’re a goddamn idiot,” he said lowly before looking toward Tucker for a moment and then back to Wash. “Biggest fucking idiot, I swear--”

"Watch it, Church,” Wash said in warning, his patience officially at an end.

“No, you watch it,” Church snapped back. “I’ll get a hold of Tex and the Reds and get this city protected. You can phone your Mayors in between them campaigning for an election no one actually cares about to get them to talk to this Felix chump for you. But before you call in sick to the kiddie heroes, how about you take care of house.”

Tucker looked exasperated. “Church--”

“No, dude, I’m sick of this,” Church said, heading toward the door. “And you two better use this time to actually talk.”

Washington blinked a few times, flinching when Church slammed the door closed behind him, and then looked in surprise to Tucker, who seemed significantly less shocked by Church’s declarations. He only seemed annoyed.

“He acts like he knows what’s going on between us,” Wash pointed out.

“Yeah, well, he’s my best friend,” Tucker reminded Wash. “What we do is... talk.”

“Which... we don’t do,” Wash admitted slowly.

“We do, but I.. It’s like we talk at different levels. You never hear what I’m saying under what I’m saying, you know?” Tucker tried with what seemed to be great difficulty to explain.

“Honestly, Tucker, I don’t know,” Wash replied. “I... I know everyone jokes that I get cryptic at times. But... I always say what I mean at the end of the day. I’ve never had a problem where that wasn’t the case.”

“Yeah, and some of the things you say probably coulda stood to be kept to yourself,” Tucker noted bitingly.

Despite his first instinct to argue the point, Wash took a breath and sat down on the couch too. “Okay. That’s fair. But I also think it’s fair to point out that sometimes... if you’re frustrated that I’m not seeing through your words to a deeper meaning, you could at least give me a hint. It’s been a while since I was in AP English. I’m not used to looking for metaphors.”

That got Tucker to actually snort. “You woulda been a nerd.” He exhaled. “Yeah, but you’ve got a point. It goes both ways. Like me.”

“See, I got that reference,” Wash joked.

“Don’t be an ass,” Tucker laughed. “But... Okay you know how the other day we were on the phone... and you just said the thing? The big thing?”

“Love?” Wash asked, brows knitting together.

“Yeah. You just said it and I know you mean it but like... I don’t know if I can ask you to like... show it instead of just running off trying to fight out of giant pyramids with riddles and mazes,” Tucker pointed out.

"Those aren’t really something outside of the comic books.” Wash pointed out. “Kind of like capes.”

“One of your new proteges wears a cape,” Tucker pointed out.

“Yes... well we’re just glad he wears at least that much considering his powers are basically to... well, sparkle,” Wash shrugged. “Tucker... I’m... I’m sorry if my words don’t always match my actions. And I know that, at least on some level, the excuse that I’m a superhero and that’s just part of what I do isn’t nearly enough to cover it. So instead I’m going to ask that... Ask that you give me something I can do to prove that I’m serious. Really serious this time.”

Tucker squinted at him. “This is sounding like a setup for something else to go the way of linner.”

Wash sighed. “I know.”

“We’ll be vaguer then,” Tucker decided. “What Church just did earlier? Delegating some of those responsibilities of yours that you hold so dear? Why can’t you do that, I don’t know, more long term?”

Confused, Wash tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Why can’t you spread around some of the territory, let other heroes and trainees take care of things that aren’t immediate. Don’t patrol every night. Trust other people to be part of this team you’ve got building up here,” Tucker offered. “If you delegate more... you’d have more time for things like linner and going to the park with Junior and me.”

“I...” Wash began to protest but he took a breath. “Okay. I can... delegate more. But I still want to find out what happened there at the explosion,” he said with a nod to the blur.

“Yeah, sure, okay. But if anything you should take that as a sign,” Tucker shrugged. “Even when bad shit’s happening to us... it always seems to work out, doesn’t it?”

“Is that what I’m taking from that?” Wash asked critically.

“Work with me here, Wash,” Tucker all but demanded.

“Okay,” Wash sighed. “I’m working with you, Tucker. We’re working on this. Together. Hero’s honor.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring,” Tucker laughed, but he seemed to actually mean it.

At least, Wash hoped so.

#writing #rvb fic #RvB: Double Time #RvB: Hero Time #Tuckington #Agent Washington #Lavernius Tucker #Alpha Church

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spookysummersmores · 7 years

Text

Mind Heist - Chapter 6

Word count: 3,449

Author's note: Here we go. It's all come down to this. What exactly is Bill's game here? Why is it getting so hard for Dipper to fight Bill off? And can Mabel come up with a plan to get Bill right where they need him and eradicate his black magic from Dipper's head...before it's too late?

Half of this was written at an extremely late hour. The other half was written this afternoon, during an unseasonably intense thunderstorm! So...tension was high...;w;

Let me tell you; writing Bill dialogue is a real experience. I am always half TERRIFIED just THINKING ABOUT what I'm writing and half completely and totally down for just...PUNCHING his LIGHTS out. lmao

There's a surprise hidden somewhere in this chapter! So have fun with that! :D

Also, there are some references to the real-life Journal 3 novel, so SPOILER WARNING there in case you haven't read it, and there is a brief mention of blood, so I'll tag the trigger warning, just in case.

Special thanks to @ichipine once again for the input, as well as all the great contributions to the original RP piece this chapter is based on! This chapter - and the whole fic in general - wouldn't be the same without them! ❤❤❤

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy! There are just two chapters left that'll wrap everything up, so stay tuned for those! ^-^

Mabel and Dipper both yelled and tried to escape, but it was no use. As much as they struggled to break free, Bill's grasp was too tight to get out of. As they glanced up, they saw that he was covered in strings of bubblegum from the trap Mabel had left for him, and as he began to taunt them, it turned to ash and crumbled off.

"Oh, THIS...now THIS is PRICELESS!" Bill cackled as he gazed menacingly down at the children's frightened faces. "You HONESTLY THOUGHT you could outsmart me? Here in MY domain?"

"This...ISN'T your domain!" Dipper cried out as he struggled. "It's MY head...and I'm NOT...gonna-"

"What? Let me destroy you from the inside out? C'mon, what's the fun in that?" Bill retorted menacingly. "ALL you had to do" - he gripped Dipper tighter with each overly-emphasized word - "was JOIN me, Pine Tree. A GREAT new world is coming, and YOU could've been one of the elite few!"

Dipper couldn't even respond. He felt as though he were being put through a vice, and all the while, Bill just continued monologuing with evil delight.

"You don't know what you're missing, half-pint...but why should I bother with you anymore, anyway? There's no use fighting! You're DONE FOR whether you want to admit it or not!"

"What...are you TALKING about?!" Dipper squeaked out, still determined to break free, but hardly able to move at this point.

Bill put a hand to his face as he continued to laugh. "Boy, I tell ya - if there's one thing that defines you Pineses, it's STUBBORNNESS. You just DON'T know when to GIVE UP!" He brought Dipper directly in front of his empty, unsettling eye so he had no choice but to gaze directly into it. "Look, let me put it this way...the last guy whose head I got into...we sure had a BLOODY good time!"

An image of the journal's Bill Cipher entry appeared. A six-fingered hand was seen lying across one of the pages...as red liquid slowly dripped onto the page.

So the red splatters on the page HAD been blood after all. Could...could the author be DEAD? Killed at the hands of BILL?! Dipper was horrified.

"And keep in mind - THAT guy was in pretty good shape for a mortal fleshbag!" Bill continued. "Meanwhile, you don't really even need anymore of MY input - your OWN BODY was already beginning to burn up BEFORE I came along, and me just BEING here is making the flames burn higher. Every time you and your puny little consciousness tries to fight back, more and more of your energy just keeps draining out of your ears. So...just so you don't end up causing your OWN demise before I get to have a little FUN...I think...it's HIGH TIME I just let your own nightmares and human weaknesses consume you." Quick flashes of Dipper's various nightmares and the overgrowing brambles slowly creeping up on the mind library flashed across the eye-screen next. "Oh, but don't worry! I'll make sure your precious journal finds a safe space first...'cause it's coming home with ME!"

While Bill had been hassling Dipper, Mabel certainly hadn't just been sitting and letting it happen. She'd managed to slip out just one arm out from Bill's grip. Quickly, she imagined a baseball bat for her free hand.

"Leave...my BROTHER...ALONE!"

The bat went to hit Bill straight in the eye. It was JUST about to make impact...but then...

"WELL! I'm surprised at you, Shooting Star! You wouldn't hit a demon with" - a one-eyed pair of glasses appeared over Bill's giant eyeball - "GLASSES, would you?" Rather than the eyewear shattering upon impact, though, as one would expect, the...bat was what ended up shattering into pieces. Mabel was left in complete and utter disbelief. And Bill found it hilarious.

"M...M-Mabel..."

Mabel, afraid for Dipper's life, tried desperately to get out of Bill's hand. With her free arm, she managed to squeeze herself out a little, but not enough to change anything. The only thing she accomplished was tiring herself out.

Bill laughed maniacally. "Oh, GIVE it UP, Shooting Star! Did you hear ANYTHING I just said?!" He put a hand to what would normally be a person's chin. "Then again...after the whole 'sock opera' fiasco, I think we've all seen how GREAT of a listener you are..."

Mabel felt her stomach twist with guilt at the sound of that. And even in the state he was in, anger began to eat Dipper up inside when HE heard.

"With your brother's physical state deteriorating, his mind isn't going to last much longer if I can help it! But of course...YOU and I could always make a-"

Suddenly, Bill was slapped upside...whatever part of himself you could call his head by a giant frying pan. A cry of pain emerged from him, and he instantly dropped the twins to the ground. HARD.

Mabel jumped to her feet in an instant, but as she brushed off her sweater and looked up, she saw Dipper groaning as he tried to recover from the impact. It seemed like it took everything he had just to pull himself to his feet.

Immediately, she ran over to him and helped him get up. "Dipper...are you okay?"

He nodded, slowly...and then Bill went lunging after them again.

This time, though, Mabel was too quick for him.

In the span of half a second, Mabel wrapped an arm around Dipper, thought up a series of cartoony hole portals in the floors below them, jumped down them with Dipper in tow, then finally conjured up her trusty grappling hook - just in time to hook the stained-glass light fixture and gently lower them to the fourth floor. Each hole closed as the twins fell through it, leaving Bill up on the second-highest floor...far too close to the top-secret room for comfort.

"HA! YES! STUCK the landing! Secret agents, eat your heart out!" Mabel proclaimed, proudly, but fortunately not too loudly. "Hey...thanks for the frying pan. Perfect timing, too!" She grasped onto Dipper's hand and started to pull him along. "C'mon, Dippin' Dots, let's find a place to lay low so we can-"

"He's right."

Mabel, alarmed by the noticeable fatigue and defeat present in her brother's voice, stopped and spun around. "What?"

The world spun a little, and Dipper leaned one arm against the wall, holding his back as Stan would after a particularly hard shift. "I'm...gonna be honest, Mabel..." he whispered to her. "Bill's right. Being this sick, it's...screwing with my mind. It's getting harder to fight..." He took a deep breath before continuing to speak. "But I mean...we've GOT to get him out of here, and-"

"Hey, hey now! C'mere..." Mabel dragged a chair out of the nearby cheat-code 'computer lab' and sat him down in it. "Yeah, I noticed you were getting kinda worn out earlier...which I knew HAD to be weird, 'cause...usually, in dreams, you've got energy for DAYS. So...he is right, then..." She gave him a look of pure concern. "I'm really worried about how much longer you can hold up. Maybe you should just...leave it to me, bro, and sit out the rest of this crazy-fest."

"No. NO WAY. I can't let you face Bill alone," Dipper responded. "And besides, the spell's strength increases tenfold with each person that assists with it. This is BILL we're talking about; the AUTHOR was TERRIFIED of his power. I don't think just one spellcaster is gonna be enough to get him out and undo all of his nightmare-bending outside."

"But...you're gonna get real hurt if you do much more, and-!" Mabel growled with frustration. "Aaaaah, this is awful...this is awful times double infinity!" She sank down on the floor beside him.

A book on the shelf beside her, one with a spine that was oddly colorful for something of Dipper's, happened to catch her eye. She glanced up and noticed that they were sitting in the middle of the 'holiday memories' section.

The little book, bound in yellow leather and decorated with shimmering confetti, was the memory of a family New Year's Eve party the twins' parents had thrown when they were five - the first one they'd ever been allowed to attend. Mabel smiled when the memory came flooding back to her own mind.

Suddenly, as she turned the page, the discordant, yet still pleasant, sound of party horns and noisemakers blasted from the book and echoed through the halls. Mabel cried out in surprise.

"Shhh, Mabel!" Dipper shushed and quickly shut the book. "Don't freak out! That's just how my memories work! You open the book up, and it comes to life. You can even kinda...pull things right out, if you want. I used to imagine doing that a lot when I was little...I never thought it could really WORK that way." He thought for a second. "Think of it as, like...if your scrapbook could talk."

"...Hold the phone. Open it up and it...springs to life...!" Mabel gasped with delight. "I've got an idea happening here! Dipper - what do we still need for the spell?"

"Ah..." He pulled the spell out of his vest pocket - it was awfully fortunate that Bill hadn't seen it - and took a look. "A projectile. Something that will strike him with force. The reaction between the white magic of the crystals and Bill's dark energy will activate the trap and clear all black magic out of the area."

"Well, I think my trusty old GRAPPLING HOOK can do the trick!" Mabel continued, beaming. "And remember you told me about those paper clones you made of yourself in order to try and ask Wendy to dance?"

"W-well...yeah," he replied, a little embarrassed about that situation now.

"If your memories come to LIFE...then that means memories of PEOPLE could probably just...come right out of the book, if we wanted 'em to! Right?" Mabel paced a bit as she brainstormed. "If Bill wants to get YOU...then why can't we just get a few Dipper decoys to distract him? We can get him when he least expects it! And that way, YOU only have to help with the most important part!"

Dipper gasped. "Mabel...Mabel, that's perfect! Besides...there have been a few days where I've really missed Tyrone. It'd be kinda cool to see him again." He grinned. "Let's go find the book of clones. It's back upstairs, the floor right underneath Bill...so we've gotta be sneaky." The twins fistbumped in agreement.

Suddenly, they heard a strange commotion a few floors down. When they peered over the balcony, they were horrified by the sight that awaited them.

The strange, tentacle-like limbs of the nightmares had grown to impossible lengths and had finally begun to seep into the mind library itself. One had snaked its way through the crack in the entrance doorway, while another was intent on trying to bust its way through a window - and it had already created a good-sized crack. The lights in the lobby began to flicker and short out, as if to flee from the impending doom.

Dipper gulped. "And we definitely don't have any time to waste..."

Mabel quickly took hold of his hand. Off they went to hire help and get the real Dipper to a safe spot.

"Let's let my friends out in the woods take care of the mortal scum for now..." Bill said as cryptic images of the nightmare creatures he was summoning flashed across his eye. "I just love the smell of FEAR in the morning!" He cracked his weird little knuckles. "Won't be long...so in the meantime...time to break down some barriers!"

As Bill tried figuring out how best to get past the security sealing up the journal room...

"Hey, BILL!"

Suddenly, he heard Dipper's voice call out and spun around.

Dipper folded his arms defiantly. "If you're so powerful, how come you can't pick a lock?"

Bill turned an angry, hellish red. "Sass won't get you ANYWHERE with me, Pine Tree! Didn't your parents ever teach you to RESPECT YOUR ELDERS?!"

And with one blast of fire, Dipper appeared to melt.

Then...

"Seriously?"

Bill spun around, and there was Dipper. Standing there by the door. Arms folded. As if he'd never been touched.

"WHAT?! I just DISINTEGRATED you!" And so he blasted Dipper again.

"You know..." This time, Dipper was standing on the stairs leading down to the next floor. "You should REALLY work on your aim."

"AaaaaAAAAAHH-"

Mabel observed from the twins' hiding spot. "Okay, Dipper, Bill's totally distracted!" she whispered, giving him a thumbs-up. "He's on Number Five and on his way down! Now's a good time to get him out of here." She made sure the trinity crystal she'd made was securely locked into place at the tip of the grappling hook, then noticed Dipper leaning against a bookshelf for support again. "Are you sure you're ready?"

Dipper pulled the spell page out of his vest pocket. "Ready as I'll ever be." He took a few deep breaths in order to prepare himself. "Are YOU ready?"

"Mhm!" Mabel nodded. Just then, they both gasped at the sight of a giant tree root breaking through the window beside them, looking very much like the zombie arm that had nearly dragged Dipper away during the karaoke party misadventure earlier that month. "Come on, come on!"

They silently sprinted over to the next bookshelf, and they stood, out of sight, waiting for just the right moment.

Down the stairs Bill descended after the clones, firing at Dippers all the way. Yet no matter how many times he annihilated Dipper, he simply kept reappearing, completely unharmed.

"HOW" - there went Seven - "is this POSSIBLE?!" Bye-bye, Eight.

The ninth different Dipper sighed. "You know, this is...actually getting pretty monotonous. Don't know why I was so scared before."

Bill growled, completely and utterly done. "RrrrryyyYOOUUU-"

Then, just as he was charging up to fire at Number Nine...he heard something.

Something that struck fear in him.

Mabel and Dipper had begun to recite the spell together, as loudly and as clearly as possible.

"Of the darkness... I do not fear... For the light... Shall be my savior..."

As they repeated the spell twice more, the crystal before them began to glow with divine light. Bill stood there, rage and disbelief taking over his entire being as he began to turn to static.

"Wait...NO! There's NO WAY you just...?!"

"Ohhhh, I think we just did." Dipper shot him a look of victory.

The Mystery Twins tightened their grip on the grappling hook.

Mabel stuck her tongue out in determination. "Sweet dreams, Bill."

And with that, they launched the crystal toward Bill at lightning speed.

The crystal seemed to burn him the second it touched him. Suddenly, a white light encapsulated Bill in a mystical white orb.

"OHHHHH...you're not through with me! You're FAR from through with me. I'm coming back before you know it! Something's coming...something your underdeveloped little minds couldn't POSSIBLY comprehend...and when that day DOES come, you'll wipe those grins right off of your faces and cower in FEAR before me!" He briefly chanted some sort of gibberish: "Lyom, rvs yqe GVOEZL ihkxz kvbg jps uybvhawav iozdihtbg? WA, K mpe'h usyxexo nfi TQGJANVN kchy gwe vsbv hh rrrofo iywl!"

Finally, a blast of white light consumed everything in Dipper's mindscape, instantly disintegrating every bit of black magic that had infiltrated the library.

All the nightmares, no longer under the influence of a demon, were pushed back into their proper place.

And in an instant, Bill disappeared before their eyes.

Light returned to the library. All of the broken glass had vanished without a trace, as if the windows had never broken in the first place. The atmosphere lost any and all tension. The serenity of a quiet summer day came back.

All was right in Dipper's mind once more.

The twins stood there for a second, still as statues, just to make sure Dipper was truly safe.

Then, they heard familiar voices murmur something from behind them - the only two clones other than Nine who hadn't been blasted, Number Ten and Paper Jam.

"Pssst...hey...is it over?"

"Nyang-nyang?"

"He's gone! WE DID IT!" Mabel cried, her voice filled to the brim with pure joy. She and Dipper exchanged their special twin handshake and hugged each other in celebration.

Once he disappeared, the Dipper clones - all of them, even the ones that seemingly been annihilated - re-materialized and went around giving the twins highfives before they climbed back into their memory book and went silent. Dipper and Tyrone even exchanged finger guns before Tyrone departed for the book. Mabel put it back in its proper place, and all was still again.

"Ohh, man...whoa..." Dipper slid down the wall, wiping his brow with relief. "Thank goodness THAT'S over and done with. Now let's...let's..."

Suddenly, Dipper sneezed. He was slowly beginning to experience the symptoms of his cold...inside his dreamscape.

"Ugh...WHY?" he said, sniffling. "Even in here?"

Then something dawned on him...and he gasped.

"Wait. Then I must be waking up! Okay...Mabel, you've gotta wake up, too...we gotta imagine an exit-"

"No way, Jose, you rest! I'm on it!" A door with an 'Exit' sign on it appeared before them. "I'll see you back at the Shack...okay?" Mabel helped Dipper up and hugged him. Dipper returned the 'awkward sibling hug'.

And with that...the twins walked through the exit together.

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writingismyhappytime · 7 years

Text

Dauntless: I Can't Stop (Part 2)

Eric x OC

Warnings: language, violence

"So that's it?" Peter whined as he followed me down the hallway, right on my ass. "We're just going to herd some factionless back into their holes?"

"Something like that," I grunted, trying to otherwise ignore the kid. He got on my nerves, and if he pissed me off too badly tonight I'd leave him with them.

He didn't get we were really going to kill a few of them, thin them out as per orders. He'd figure it out quick enough and help, and if he didn't... well, we couldn't exactly have any tattle tales, now could we?

Plus, he'd been a little bitch to my girlfriend and I'd have no qualms ending him.

Now where were we?

Ah yes, the armory. Peter has probably never been inside, and from the surprised look on his face as we entered, that confirmed it.

Kid probably had never had his cherry popped either.

I glanced around the armory as we entered. Metal racks lined the wall, going as far as the eye could see in the gray room. They lined the walls about three stories high, and I could see the other Dauntless milling around, cleaning the weapons, doing inventories.

Usually if a Dauntless got armory duty, they didn't leave it, it was a good and easy gig.

Unless a gun went missing, then there was hell to pay.

"Sign in," I muttered to Peter, motioning at the metal cage where someone sat, a small screen on the outside where everyone who entered had to sign in. I waited impatiently for him to do so, crossing my arms.

"This is the armory," I said, as if it wasn't obvious enough. "You get to pick one weapon for your first mission, so pick well. The wrong one could get you killed."

I hoped.

Peter hastily followed me as I shoved the metal door open, it swinging open silently to reveal the rows of guns in front of us.

All of them were automatic, and I could hear through some of the side doors a humming, meaning either more weapons were being created or their ammunition.

We generally had to be sparring with our ammo, we only had so many resources after all, but apparently we were in abundance right now.

I didn't bother to make sure Peter followed me, I knew he would as I walked past rows of tables, guns in multiple stages of being assembled.

"Don't ogle," I said to him, smirking as he stiffened quickly behind me, beady eyes still taking everything in. "It's not that impressive."

I was lying, it was pretty fucking impressive.

I loved the smell, especially of fresh gunpowder, the burn of it when fired. "Does everyone get to come in here?" Peter asked, still looking around like an idiot.

"Not everyone. Most of the time we just hand out the weapons, crate them up for missions. Unless you're assigned here or have clearance, it's not somewhere we normally let others wander."

Peter frowned.

"I bet Camille has been in here, even though she's just a Trainor."

I rolled my eyes, coming to a stop as I half turned, debating taking the closest gun muzzle and putting it to good use on the kid.

Camille had actually been assigned here after she'd completed her testing and come out number two, behind the majestic fucking asshole Four, but she hadn't wanted it.

Too tame for her I suppose.

She'd wanted to train, to fight, and the higher ups had obliged her, she was one of the best after all.

Had to admire her for not wanting one of the cozy jobs.

I turned to Peter.

"You piss me off today and I'm going to leave your ass with the factionless," I said quietly, catching his gaze. "I won't help you, I'll shove you right into the line of fire. I'm only warning you once."

Peter stared at me, whitening slightly.

Good.

Satisfied, I turned away, continuing to where we'd been heading before. I stepped into one of the other caged areas, watching as a woman loaded one of the semi-automatics, popping the magazine into the gun.

"Melanie."

"Eric." She greeted coolly, glancing up at me. "You're late."

"Max ordered someone new," I shrugged, stepping out of the way so she could see Peters scrawny ass. Peter hovered in the doorway, gazing at all the weapons behind us.

"Fresh blood? Is he ready for this?" She questioned, her black eyes spearing him.

Melanie was a frightening lady, covered in swirling tattoos, her blonde dreads tied at the back of her neck. She had a hoop hanging from the center of her nose, and from her black eye I could tell she'd been fighting again.

She had a temper.

But she was an efficient soldier, followed orders without question --- she ran the armory with an iron thumb, something Max liked.

"We'll see," I finally answered her, going for the gear lying on the trunks against the wall. I started strapping the armor on, Peter hesitating before doing the same.

I wasn't here to babysit him, he could figure shit out on his own.

We all did.

"How many are in the way tonight?" I asked, stepping to the table. Melanie shrugged her bare, tan shoulders, handing me an M-16 she had prepped for combat.

"Who knows, all of them look the same so it's hard to count. Jackson is coming along too, he's meeting us at the gate. He's already prepped, I was just waiting on you."

"So glad you were thinking of me," I grunted, taking the extra magazines on the table and slipping them into my belt.

"Don't I always?" She murmured, soft enough where Peter couldn't hear, too preoccupied with figuring out how to wear his gear.

I hesitated, cutting my eyes in her direction with a frown. We'd slept together a few times, I'd admit it, and she was a helluva good lay. We'd been fuck buddies since we'd first met until it had gotten serious with Camille.

Melanie hadn't exactly been pleased when she realized me and Camille were actually a thing, and I wouldn't fuck anyone else, not while I was with her. It had been a year now, maybe a little longer, but even when she pissed me off it didn't even cross my mind.

Maybe I'd lost my edge because of it, gone a little soft because I cared about someone, but I didn't give a shit. Camille made me semi-happy, for the first time in my miserable, fucked up life, and I wasn't going to risk our relationship for a different bed.

Not even for Melanie.

"Let's get going," I mumbled, grabbing the black duffel of ammunition off the table.

~~~~~~~~

Shit!

I hit the side of the building, clenching my gun tighter in my hands. I could hear the popping of gunfire, smell the powder in the air --- it was dark, we were way behind schedule and nothing was going to plan!

Shit!

"How far are we from the train?" I hissed over my shoulder, hastily wiping the sweat from my brow.

Melanie huffed, pressing her back against the wall beside me, both of us streaked with dirt. We'd been at this since dusk, herding those damned factionless where they belong --- leaving those who protested behind.

In pieces, actually.

Someone else can always clean up the mess.

"Five minutes until pick up," she rasped, sounding hoarse. She'd been barking orders for the last five hours into the radio on her shoulder, but we'd already lost contact with Jackson.

I figured he was dead.

Not our fault, people died in this line of business. Didn't much like the guy anyway.

You couldn't get attached in this line of business.

"Okay, let's keep going," I muttered, taking a step to the edge of the wall; these fucking factionless weren't supposed to fight back, they were supposed to run!

Camille was going to kill me for missing dinner!

I gritted my teeth, knowing I didn't have much ammunition left, and the enemy was endless from the looks of it!

"What about reinforcements?" I asked, hesitating as I saw the blood running down Melanie's arm; she was hurt? How bad?

She scowled, brushing some grime off her face, unaware of her wound. Dirt streaked her tan face, and she still managed to look badass despite the circumstances.

It was so dark, and with the smoke from the gunfire and scuffling, you couldn't see shit. I was burning up in my armor, sweat pouring down my skin and making the grime stick even worse.

It would take two showers to get clean after this.

"You seriously think they'd send some after us when we're on cleanup duty?" Melanie snapped, checking her magazine. "Yeah fucking right. Keep dreaming."

I glared at her, my head turning to look around the corner again.

"This way, I see an opening," I muttered, eyeballing the distance between us and the row of old dumpsters. "We can make it if we stay low. Follow me."

I cast one more furtive glance before I darted forward, my legs already burning. I slid to a stop, crouching hard, Melanie darting to my side.

"Okay, the train is over there," Melanie said, her voice tight. "Where's that kid you brought?"

"Hell if I know. Probably dead at this rate," I shrugged my shoulders, glancing around nervously. I had to admit, this was definitely a tight situation.

"So you're just going to leave him then?"

"He's not my responsibility."

"You're still a ruthless asshole."

Maybe.

But you had to be.

I didn't bother to respond, just turned, lifting my gun as I saw some black blurs in the distance. I narrowed my eyes, waiting for them to come into view, but they merely disappeared.

Great.

"Let's keep going while it's clear. We can get on the train and wait it out," I decided, sparing a glance to see her nod in agreement.

"Whatever you say."

That's what she always said.

I gave it a beat, then lunged forward, running hard for the train and not looking back.

My plan went well for about five seconds.

I flinched as a bullet pinged off the concrete by my feet, my eyes flashing to one of the nearby buildings --- great, a fucking sniper!

We'd be sitting ducks at this rate!

"Just keep going," Melanie hissed from behind me, shoving me hard when I slowed. She turned, still moving backward as she fired in wild arcs at the building, glass shattering and falling into the concrete.

I grabbed the back of her black vest, wrenching her behind me as I headed for another cover. We ducked down quickly behind the crumbled wall of a once tall building, staying low.

"We're not far from the train," I hesitated, brushing at my forehead again, no doubt smearing more fucking grime across my face.

It was just so hot beneath the armor, my skin was burning, and with all the running ---.

"We're totally fucked with a sniper in the area. One of us is going to get gunned down immediately, and I'm not volunteering," Melanie grouched, her gun pressing hard against her chest. "So come up with somethin'."

"Why me?"

"You're always the one with the bright ideas, aren't you?"

Shit.

Yeah right.

I rolled my eyes, hunkering down always little more, giving my feet a small break as I tried to figure something out.

Nothing was coming to mind except making as break for it.

"Why are these factionless so well armed? It's been getting worse and worse lately."

"They're stealing, obviously. How else? They must have some kind of reserve somewhere."

"Yeah, but --- their training ---."

"Eric, shut the fuck up. We don't have time to worry about that stupid shit right now," Melanie snapped, shaking her blonde head. "Buck the fuck up!"

Yeesh.

She didn't have to be such a bitch about it.

We both flinched, ducking as bullets started pinging off our little wall, and my stomach dropped as one came completely through, inches from my face --- I could feel the breeze off of it on my cheek.

"We'll die if we stay here," I hissed, getting as low as I could. "We gotta move!"

"And go where!?"

"Anywhere is better then here!"

My eyes scanned the area hastily, but other then a shattered fountain and some burnt out hull of whatever it was, this was the only cover from here to the train.

If we didn't get in we were dead.

Even if we did get in, we could be dead.

So what the hell?

"Make a run for it, I'll cover you," Melanie suddenly said.

What?

"What?"

"You got somewhere to be, don't you? That bitch of yours is waiting for you to get back, and I don't want to be the one to tell her you got shot down by a factionless. She'd rip my head off."

Well, I wouldn't disagree.

"Mel ---."

"Just go. I got another magazine left, it should be enough to get you to the train. When you get on, fire as fucking much as you can for the same spot and I'll move as quick as I can.

Ah, okay.

"You think that's going to work?"

"Well it kind of has too, dontcha think?"

"One of us is going to get shot in the ass, I just know it," I grumbled, but it wasn't a bad idea, it gave us a chance.

Her dark lips curled.

"Don't even," I snapped, just knowing what she was about to say; I wasn't giving her an opportunity to bring up any of our time together, no matter how good it had been.

She chuckled weakly, but there was no humor in her eyes.

It's hard to be truly amused when you're seconds away from death, from having your head blown off in one more step or thought.

I needed to stop coming on these missions.

"Cover me," I muttered, disliking the sudden eery silence; I'd rather the guy be shooting at us so I could get a location on him again.

Mel nodded, turning so she was crouching, her gun pointed more towards the building. I shuffled, getting to my sore feet, slinging my gun over my shoulder.

One of us was so going to die.

If it was me, I didn't have any doubts Camille wouldn't bring me back to fucking kill me again.

She was an asshole that way.

I cut my eyes back, and Melanie gave me a curt nod, letting me know it was time.

My chest clenched, a white, cold feeling sweeping through my body I did my best to ignore. I had to get back, I couldn't --- and wouldn't --- die out here!

I took off, my boots pushing against the riddled ground as I took off. I heard Melanie immediately begin firing, and I didn't look back, just ran as hard as my legs could go.

I slammed into the train, literally tossing and rolling myself over the edge of the platform. I staggered a little to my feet as I reached the open compartment, throwing myself into the metal enclosure.

I pulled one of the train doors halfway shut, knowing they wouldn't open from the outside unless I said so; no one was sneaking up on me. I grabbed my gun, my gloves keeping my damp hands from slipping as I pulled the stock against my shoulder, finding Mel through my scope.

Ah, she was fine.

Okay, now where's the other asshole?

I sighed, my gun roving as I sought out the enemy, my heart beat still loud in my ears as the adrenaline ran through my body.

Fuck!

I couldn't find which window the asshole was in! Mel had definitely blown most of the glass out of the building, but still.

Wait.

There!

I cast a glance at Melanie, seeing she was ready to run, just waiting for me to tell her too.

I raised my hand, signaling her.

Almost immediately she took off, long legs carrying her towards the train. I waited, my finger tight on the trigger.

Come on, come on, where the hell are you!? I was waiting for the guy to make an appearance, I wanted to end this!

Melanie was halfway to the train when I finally saw his barrel inch out of one of the windows, and I didn't wait, just immediately started firing, knowing I had to at least hit his gun from how it jerked.

Yes!

Melanie's lean body was soon throwing itself into the compartment with me, and I pulled back, letting her wrench the final train door closed and cut us off from the fray.

Whew.

That went better then expected.

"You hurt?"

"Not much," Melanie brushed at her clothes, bruises covering her body just as mine. "You?"

"Just peachy."

She rolled her eyes, pushing her gloves down where she could see her watch.

"It's already after midnight," she sighed, slowly sitting down. It looked more to me like her legs went out from under her, but I didn't comment.

My muscles were trembling too, my legs wanting to jerk from all the exercise, but I wouldn't let them.

Instead, I got to my feet, walking over to the computer screen on the wall and punching some of the buttons.

"You're not worried that the kid or Jackson might still be alive?" Mel asked as she felt the train shift, starting to move.

"If they were, they would've made it here before us. If they're Dauntless, they'll find a way back home."

She sighed, but didn't comment as she leaned back in her ringed hands, crossing her ankles and just looking at me as I slid down the wall.

She reminded me of Camille for the world.

Mel was maybe a little rougher, started fights where she didn't need too, thrived on chaos. She was tatted up to her jaw, had a worse mouth then I did at times, and like me, was pretty fond of the female form.

Well, male too I guess.

Mel didn't discriminate in her bed buddies, and we'd definitely had some good times because of it.

But that's all it had ever been; we didn't have a connection, I wasn't drawn back to her after it. She was just a friend I guess, there was nothing about her that drew me in... well, like Camille did.

No one was like Camille.

How did I fuck myself over that way? I was Dauntless, I wasn't supposed to get attached to anyone, I'd always told myself I wouldn't.

It hadn't started off as a problem, us being a thing, but I wasn't sure who got attached first.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?"

"Huh?" I looked up, frowning as I saw Mel staring me down.

"Camille. You always get a stupid look on your face when you do, like you're constipated or something."

"Fuck off, Mel."

Her lips curved. "You're really crazy about her, aren't you? This is the longest you've ever gone with someone, just the two of you."

I pressed my lips together, deciding it was better to stay quiet and not dig my own hole.

"It's fine, Eric. Camille's alright. Kind of soft for your taste, in my opinion, not that it matters. But she gives you hell, right?"

"All the time."

"Good. You'd get bored with a peaceful chick."

"Camille is the farthest from peaceful."

"So I've heard. She's an excellent trainer, her initiates are always top notch. I'm glad you're happy with her, Eric."

"Thanks." I frowned at her. "What's with the gushy shit all of a sudden? Are you shot?" My eyes skimmed her, just in case.

"Nah. But I see shit, more then people think. And since we haven't fucked in a while I figure you're pretty serious about her. She'd probably try to kick my ass if she knew about us."

I shrugged; we didn't discuss our past relationships, Camille didn't seem to care about the past.

I leaned my head back, feeling exhausted where I sat. The train rocked lightly beneath me, it wasn't as shaky as the ones used to be.

"This mission went to hell, didn't it?" Mel sighed, apparently prepped for her rambling session; she always talked too much.

One of the reasons I didn't stick around after sex.

Now how long till we made it back to the compound?

~~~~~

I hopped off the train wearily, my body aching and definitely in need of a shower. I rolled my shoulders as I stepped forward, seeing Max waiting for us on the compound, a chagrined look on his face.

Yikes.

He was gonna rip us a new asshole.

"Max ---."

"Eric!"

Huh?

I half turned, a little surprised as I heard my girlfriends voice. I saw a blur of black hair until she rammed into me so hard I had to take a step back.

"Camille? What ---?"

"You stupid asshole!" She hissed, her arms wrapped so tightly around my neck I could barely breathe. "What the fuck are you doing, running off on a mission without backup!?"

I sighed, letting my hand press against her waist.

"I'm fine."

"You smell awful!"

"I'll take a shower."

"You're covered in grime!" She huffed, taking a step back to scan me. "And you're cut up!"

Her hands suddenly cupped my face, and I leaned into her grip, relieved. For a few minutes there I thought I'd never see her again.

I pressed my lips against her palm, seeing her dark gaze soften.

"You're so stupid," she murmured. "Why didn't you tell me you were going out?"

"Because you would have wanted to come with me," I responded, pulling away from her quickly, mildly embarrassed when I remembered where we were.

Max and Melanie were both pretending not to notice our moment, instead discussing how our "sweep" had gone wrong.

"... much more of them them there should have been," Melanie was grumbling. "Hell, I don't know if Jackson and that kid are alive, we got separated."

"Kid?" Camille asked, her hand tight on my arm.

"Peter."

"Who's Peter?"

I sighed. "Nosey."

"Oh." Camille paused, strands of her black hair falling in her eyes before she brushed them out of the way. "I hope he doesn't come back, the little asshole."

I snorted, surprised as I cut my eyes down at her. "I almost forgot how much you didn't like him."

"Well, don't. He's a little bitch."

I chuckled, taking her hand and squeezing. She squeezed back, but then her nose curled.

"You smell like dirt. Go take a shower already."

I rolled my eyes.

Good old Camille.

~~~~~

I stood beneath the water, letting the dirt and blood from the last six hours wash off my skin.

I ran my hands through my short hair, watching the black run down my skin in rivulets.

Funny, the things you take for granted.

I thought I was going to die out there, that I would never make it back. Even with Mel at my side, I'd started to seriously question if I would or not.

I would have gone out killed by those fucking factionless, the worthless leeches. I didn't want to go that way, so pathetically.

If I did, I wanted it to be extravagant, lots of fiery explosions and chaos. It seemed more my style.

I sighed, looking down at my arms, my skin scrubbed red and clean. Small cuts burned where the water and soap hit them, reminding me of the windows that had shattered over me again and again, factionless firing at me.

Shit.

I needed to retire already.

This was too much stress.

No wonder Dauntless died early.

I glanced over as the shower door moved, and I relaxed as Camille slipped in behind me.

Her cool arms slipped around my wet waist, pulling me back against her dry body.

"You had me worried," she said after a moment, lightly kissing my back. "You were supposed to be home for dinner."

"I know. Shit went south. There was more factionless then we expected."

"More then just four of you should have went."

"Wasn't my call."

"I know, I just... fuck, I was hounding the hell out of Max." She sighed, slowly letting go of me. "I thought I was going to have to go after you."

"I wouldn't have wanted you too," I said, the water now starting to glisten on her skin from touching mine. "It was too bad."

"Exactly. So you're not going back out."

I frowned,shifting uneasily. She just thought it was supposed to be a small sweep, but it wasn't. The four of us had gone out there to thin the herd, so to speak. We'd literally gone to kill as many of them as we could; I was sure we'd accomplished quite a bit of what we'd set out to do, even with there only being so little of us.

I did the dirty work for Dauntless, so did Mel. There was quite a lot of us who did shit in the shadows, did a lot of bad stuff the rest of our faction knew nothing about .

It wasn't because we wanted to, it was because it was necessary. We had too, and we can't stop doing it, I can't stop.

Someone had to do it.

Just... I didn't want too anymore.

I had someone to come home to now.

#jai courtney x oc #jai courtney eric #eric jai courtney #jai courtney fan fiction #jai courtney #eric divergent #divergent fanfiction #divergent fan fiction #divergent imagine #divergent #jai courtney smut #insurgent #eric insurgent #insurgent fan fiction #eric insurgent fan fiction

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words-and-fangirling-wonder · 7 years

Text

A is for Athletic Wear

Eustass Kid Week 2017 - Day 5!

Ahhh, I’m posting this so much later in the day than I wanted to! I ended up trying to edit it myself because @fitgirlfaith24 is still sick, which means I rewrote it like six times and probably still missed some grammar mistakes, so I apologize for that!

Once again this is kind of half from Kid’s perspective and half from Law’s. The first part is more setting up for the prompt so it still flows with the previous stories, so bear with me.

Oh, and if you haven’t watched all of the 10th Doctor there are some vague possible spoilers for Doctor Who? Kinda? Fair warning.

Author: fangirlwonder (WordsandWonder on AO3)

Pairing: Kid/Law

Prompt: Athletic Wear

Rating: Teenish?

Kid was back on his feet in no time after finally caving and taking his antibiotic, and while he was really happy to see them suddenly getting along, Kid wasn’t sure how he felt about Law and Killer suddenly ganging up on him and berating him for waiting so long. He’d had to resort to physically separating them to make it stop, which he did by picking Law up, taking him into his bedroom, and proving to him just how much better he was feeling. That tactic was more effective than Kid had planned, because he’d forgotten how loud Law could get, and apparently being in a poorly sound-proofed apartment didn’t deter him one bit from expressing his appreciation of Kid’s cock. It did, however, deter Killer from making eye contact with the doctor for about a week.

“Killer’s been calling you “Doctor Feel Good” lately,” Kid informed the raven-haired man smugly as he plopped down next to him on the horribly uncomfortable couch.

Law raised an eyebrow as he took a handful of popcorn, but didn’t say anything.

“Wanna know why?”

“Does it have something to do with him overhearing us having sex?” the surgeon guessed.

Kid’s smirk turned into a full-blown shit-eating grin. “Yuuuup.”

“Then no,” Law stated firmly. Then, after a brief pause he added, “… asshole.”

“Fine, spoilsport. What are we watching?”

“Doctor Who,” he replied, before pointedly turning up the volume.

“Awww, man. You know I don’t get this show, babe,” Kid complained.

Law, predictably, ignored his complaint in favor of watching the Doctor and his companion ride in a magical phone booth or whatever it was through time and space. Despite his grumbling, Kid didn’t actually mind watching this show. The main dude was kinda hot, and the brash lady he hung around with was funny. Kid just wasn’t really that interested in sci-fi, and he couldn’t understand half of what they said because they talked too fast with their accents, but he put up with it because it was Law’s favorite show.

“He’s changing you, you know,” Killer had said a few weeks ago, before he’d gotten used to Law. Kid hadn’t seen it then, but as he shifted around trying to get comfortable (an impossible task, because seriously fuck this couch) to watch a British TV show about a time traveling guy who wouldn’t tell anyone his real name and basically kidnapped girls and took them to really dangerous places across space and said “run” and “sorry” a lot, Kid could maybe see where his friend was coming from. If any of his past flings had tried to get him to do something so far outside of his comfort zone, they would have found themselves single pretty quick. But when Law pulled the same crap, Kid usually just found it endearing.

Kid twisted his body so he was laying on his back with his head in Law’s lap, causing the doctor to look down at him momentarily. “Don’t get comfortable there, Eustass,” he warned.

The mechanic pouted. “But this couch sucks. This is the only way I don’t get cramps in my legs,” he protested.

“You get cramps in your legs because you don’t get enough potassium, not because of my couch. Eat a banana and quit whining about my furniture,” Law insisted, but he made no move to dislodge Kid’s head, so Kid made no move to adjust his position.

Onscreen the Doctor and his redheaded companion explored a giant library, and Kid laughed. “Hey, it’s us,” he joked. “It’s like when you dragged me to that huge library a couple weeks ago.”

“Hardly. They’re about to be attacked by carnivorous shadow creatures, and I’m pretty sure the most dangerous thing in our library was a silverfish or two.”

“I dunno, carnivorous shadow creatures might have made that trip more exciting, doc.”

Law swatted him playfully on the shoulder and shushed him, but Kid could see his lips quirking up into a small smile. They fell into comfortable silence as they watched the time lord try and fail to save the explorers he met in the library. A buzzing in Kid’s pocket distracted him just as the man on-screen started asking who turned out the lights.

“What’s up, Killer?” he answered, much to Law’s annoyance.

“IborrowedyourshortsandIruinedthemI’msosorry.”

Kid scowled as he sat up so quickly he almost made Law spill his popcorn, eliciting a disgruntled noise of protest from the man. “Come again?”

“I’m so sorry, man. It all happened so fast. I borrowed your shorts and I was just hanging out with Wire …”

“How bad could you have messed them up while you were wearing them? You know I don’t really care that much about a stain as long as it’s not in the crotch or something.”

“Yeaaaaah,” Killer hedged uneasily. “I kinda … didn’t just stain them.”

“Okay, well what the fuck happened to them?”

“They sorta … caught on fire.”

“…”

“Kid?”

“They caught fire,” Kid repeated.

That got Law’s attention, and he paused the show to look at Kid in concern. “What caught fire?” he mouthed.

“My fucking gym shorts caught fire,” he explained. “Killer, how the fuck does that even happen?”

“I don’t even know, man. I was hanging out with wire and you know he’s got that gas stove, the kind with the open flames? And I guess I wasn’t paying attention or something and next thing I knew I was on fucking fire.”

“Shit, are you okay?”

Killer was silent for a minute. “Wait, seriously?”

“What do you mean ‘seriously’?” Kid demanded. “You were on fire, are you fucking okay?”

“You’re not mad?”

“I mean, I’m kinda pissed I have to buy new shorts, but are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. I got them off quick enough and Wire had some burn cream. You’re seriously not mad?” Killer sounded absolutely incredulous, and it occurred to Kid that normally he would be mad. Maybe the doc really was rubbing off on him.

“I’m not mad. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“O-Okay. I can pay for the new shorts…”

“Yeah, you fucking better,” Kid agreed.

Killer laughed. “Annnd there’s the Kid I was expecting. Damn, you’re a lot more mellow when you’re getting some on the regular. I thought you were gonna kill me.”

“Keep talking and I still might, asshole. Well, I guess I’m going shopping then. Outdoor starts next week already. We need anything?”

“Toilet paper and milk. I’ll give you cash for the clothes when you get home.”

“Yeah, okay. See ya.” Kid hung up without waiting for Killer to respond and flopped back into Law’s lap with a growl of frustration.

“If you make me spill this popcorn you’re cleaning it up,” Law warned halfheartedly.

Kid shrugged and buried his face in the other man’s stomach. “I hate shopping,” he grumbled.

Law unpaused the show and absently ran his hand through Kid’s scarlet locks. “I’m sure you will survive one shopping trip, Eustass.”

Kid’s reply was too muffled by Law’s shirt for the doctor to make out, so he ignored in in favor of focusing his attention back on the show until Kid sighed heavily and sat up.

“I better go. Get it over with.”

Kid was pretty sure that one of these days the doctor was going to sprain his eyeballs rolling them like that as he once again paused the show. “Fine,” he muttered, leaning in absently to kiss Kid goodbye.

Kid was having none of that. Rather than let the man get away with a simple peck, he wrapped a hand around the other’s neck and pulled him close. “You can do better than that, doc. I’m going to my death here,” he murmured against Law’s soft lips before nipping at them playfully.

“In all my time as a doctor I’ve never heard of death by shoppi-“ Law’s snarky reply was cut off abruptly by Kid sealing their mouths together.

Kissing Law had quickly become one of Kid’s favorite things. Whether he was kissing him slow and deep or like the world was ending, the feeling of his lips pressing against Kid’s, his tongue sweeping against Kid’s, always left the mechanic dizzy and craving more. Law let out a pleased moan and opened his mouth when Kid licked along the seam of his lips. His goatee scratched against Kid’s clean-shaven chin, but Kid didn’t mind. It was just another sensation that made kissing the doctor unique. He pulled away regretfully when breathing became an issue.

“I’ll be the first, just watch,” he breathed.

Law pushed against his shoulders with a laugh. “Buy a new phone while you’re at it.”

Law’s dislike of Kid’s ancient cellphone was an old joke between the two of them now, so Kid just shrugged it off with a grin as he put his shoes on. “Buy a new couch,” he shot back.

He was almost out the door when he heard the doctor mutter, “Doctor Feel Good is an extremely unoriginal name, anyway.”

Perhaps Law hadn’t really meant for him to hear, but Kid chuckled all the same. Then, in a breathy, high pitched voice he moaned, “Oh! Eustass! Feels … Feels so good!” then ducked out the door, still laughing, just in time to miss getting hit with the pillow Law threw at him.

+++

Law was a very busy man. Even though today was his day off, he still had a mountain of paperwork to do for the hospital, and a deadline coming up for the article he was writing for a medical journal. He really didn’t have time today for any distractions. And yet here he was, sitting in Kid’s apartment with his computer open on his lap (having somehow let the other man convince him that he could work just as well at the mechanic’s place), doing absolutely nothing at all. Capable of doing absolutely nothing at all. All because of a pair of gym shorts.

Yes, from the moment Eustass stepped out of his bedroom, dressed for his first volleyball practice of the season, Law’s focus had been directed entirely at how his ass looked in those shorts.

Law was not an athletic person, and he was certainly not any kind of sports enthusiast. Far from it, in fact. He would rather be stuck doing nothing but appendectomies for a week straight than run around on a court chasing a ball for an hour. He was much more of a more of a Tolkien reading, tea drinking, sci-fi/fantasy enthusiast. And really, in his head, a guy who looked like he was heading to the gym wasn’t his type. In his head, he was attracted to similar-minded, geeky guys with glasses, unkempt hair, and a keen sense of style. But in reality, if you put both types together, hands down Law would find himself drooling over the heavily muscled guy in the hoodie and warm-up pants every time.

So there Eustass was. Just sitting in that armchair, looking like he was ready to sweat. ‘Well, if it’s a workout you want, look no further,’ Law thought appreciatively, images of all the ways he could give Eustass a workout he wouldn’t soon forget flashing through his mind and sending waves of heat through his body.

The way those damn shorts hugged the redhead’s ass was mouth-watering as he got up and moved to the kitchen for a glass of milk. Completely unaware of the doctor’s hungry gaze devouring every inch of him, Kid stretched his arms above his head, making Law realize that he really loved hoodies, too. Because you just couldn’t keep them down. Ahh, there it was. That sexy little bright red happy trail leading past the elastic waistband into territory Law had become very well acquainted with over the past few months. God, it was enough to make him dizzy.

Eustass groaned and leaned back a bit, his muscles pulling taut as he deepened the stretch. That was good. He would need to be limber for what Law had in mind. Kid chose that moment to finally look at the raven-haired man on his couch, noticing the absence of the sound of typing that had previously been filling his apartment.

He let out a surprised laugh at the look he was getting from the surgeon. “Damn, doc, what are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about you bending me over this couch right now,” Law thought. He was willing to bet those low-riding athletic shorts would slide right off. No fumbling, no delays, nothing between them but a thin layer of shiny polyester blend fabric. He let out a needy whine at the thought (which he would later adamantly deny).

“Jesus, Law,” Kid rumbled, stunned by the sound and the heat in the other’s gaze. “Quit looking at me like that. I don’t have time for whatever you’re thinking about. I gotta leave for practice in like five minutes.”

But as Law set aside his laptop and stalked over to the redhead, his gaze positively predatory, Kid knew he was going to be late.

#eustasskidweek #Eustasskidweek2017 #eustass kid #trafalgar law #athletic wear appreciation #doctor who #Kid/Law #kid x law #one piece fanfic

35 notes · View notes

areswriting · 5 years

Text

a x e : x

I take a step toward the ajar door, then pause and look at Elise, who still holds it open. I consider her for a moment before shaking my head.

“No,” I say.

Her mouth pops open, just like mine had only seconds ago, her words forestalled by my challenge.

“What do you mean—no?”

“I mean, no,” I say, and I grab the side of the door, pulling it out of her grasp and to a close. It thuds shut behind us.

“Abram!” Elise says, her eyes moving from me, to the door and back again. “What are you—?”

I silence her with a kiss, hands searching for the back of her knees. When I find them, shaking, Elise pulls herself onto my torso, long legs wrapping around my hips. Her hands find my hair and her teeth clamp down on my lower lip.

“I said go, Abram,” she whispers, but her lips are on mine faster than I can reply.

I set her on her vanity—perhaps with too much force, as it knocks against the wall, her things falling off of it and smacking against the floor. She pulls away, looking left and right at the mess around my feet.

“Not here,” she pants. “This vanity is almost a hundred years old and—”

I wrap my hand around her throat and squeeze. She moans. I smile.

“Right here,” I breathe against her mouth, lips just barely brushing over hers. Her hands, still in my hair, grip the roots, pulling me closer. I squeeze her throat again and her legs flail around me as she tries to take control. I lean away—she pulls my hair, trying to force me nearer and I click my tongue.

“Mauvaise fille,” I chastise. “Now you need to be punished.”

She looks at me expectantly, my left hand still gripping at her throat. My right hand, once on her hip, now wonders under her skirt. My fingers find lace and in one quick motion, I rip them off of her.

Elise’s breath catches and she looks down at my hand and the powder blue lace laying on my palm. I kiss down the side of her neck, to her bruised collar bone, to the top button of her shirt. I don’t bother with unbuttoning them, instead I yank on the fabric, buttons popping and flying off.

I kneel in front of her and push her khaki skirt up, exposing her milky white thighs.

“Abram,” Elise moans. “The door isn’t locked. Someone—could walk—in.”

“Est-ce que cela vous excite?” I say lowly.

“Oui,” she breathes.

Her body becomes Church. Her knees, an altar. I bow my head between them.

▲ △ ▼ ▽

It’s hardly seven in the morning when I leave my dorm for breakfast—hopeful to avoid a certain brother of mine. Those hopes crash and burn when I see him in the hall outside of the cafeteria, unusually dressed down for a school day. I throw my head back, inwardly muttering merde, as I half consider turning and running away.

“Hey,” says Jason, giving me a wide smile. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Uh, I went for an early run,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck, unable to look him in the eye. “What are you doing up?”

He puts his hand on my shoulder and laughs as we walk toward the short line of students getting their food. “I’m always up this early,” he tells me. “But we’ve got an early practice this morning. Did you forget?”

“I don’t have practice,” I say. “I got scratched, remember?”

Jason rolls his eyes at himself. “Oh, man, I’m sorry. I totally spaced.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, shaking my head as I pick a peach out of a basket of fruit.

“On the upside,” Jason begins, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, “The scouts don’t come until February.”

“Scouts?” I say, jaw falling open as I watch him walk toward the bar for hot food. “What do you mean?”

I hurry behind him and grab a tray, while he grins back at me. “Exactly what you think I mean. Junior hockey scouts and NHL scouts.”

“They come here?” I ask, nearly dropping my tray as I absorb the shock of his words.

“Do you need to see a doctor?” he laughs. “I seriously think you have concussion syndrome.”

“Abram!”

I hear my named called in a sing-song voice, and I look over my shoulder to see Sophie smiling at me. Behind her I see Elise, who stands statue still, gawking at me and Jason.

“Hey, Babe,” Jason says, beaming at Elise, who finds her footing and moves to catch up to Sophie. “Good morning.”

“Well, this was pointless,” Sophie says, glancing at Elise.

“What was?” asks Jason, looking at them as he scoops eggs onto his tray.

“We got up early to study for finals,” Elise answers for her.

“Yeah,” says Sophie, as she eyeballs an apple for bruises. “We got up early to study—but now we’ll be too distracted.”

“Don’t worry,” says Jason. “I can’t keep you that long. I’ve got practice.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Sophie laughs. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

Jason nudges my side and wiggles his eyebrows. I shake my head. A definite no.

We find seats at our usual table and sit in silence that is punctuated only by chewing and Sophie and Jason talking. I glance at Elise, who holds a spoonful of yogurt in one hand, and her cell phone in the other. Just as I look away, my phone chirps. Once, twice—by the time I pull it out of my pocket, it’s gone of five times.

“Someone is popular this morning,” Sophie says. She leans toward me, trying to get a glimpse of my screen, but I lean away. “Oh. Is it you girlfriend?”

New messages:

Brody

I don’t know what to do! Do I tell…

Sylvia

Good morning. Are you over yourself yet?

“Boyfriend,” I say flatly. I tap on Brody’s name and scroll up.

Tell me WHY NATASHA JUST KISSED ME

“Oh sh*t!” I say, slamming my hand down on the table.

sEriously, TELL ME

Dude, wake the fjuck up and explain this to me. I need to talk to you!

I don’t know what to do! Do I tell Ellie?

“What?” Elise says. “Is he okay?”

I look up to see a look of concern on her face, and I gently shake my head. “Natasha just kissed Brody.”

“Who is Natasha?” asks Jason and Elise.

“Who is Brody?” says Sophie.

“Isn’t he with Ellie?” Jason says.

“Wait,” says Sophie. “Is Ellie that trashy girl from that one party? Why do we care if her boyfriend cheats on her?”

“I don’t think that counts as cheating,” Jason says knowingly. “He can’t stop other people from feeling what they feel.”

Elise and I look at each other. I notice her cheeks burning red and I take a bite of my peach. She turns her attention back to her cell phone.

“It’s more complicated than that,” I say, using my thumb to swipe-text Brody. “Natasha is the coach’s daughter. I always thought she hated him.”

Sophie giggles, and I look at her with curiosity.

“What?” I say, eyebrows knitted.

“Well,” she shrugs, “I personally think hate is the beginning of a love story. Not the end. Who wants to tell a mushy story to their kids and grandkids?”

My chirping phone pulls my attention away from Sophie, and back to the bright screen.

New message: Sylvia

Stop ignoring me, Kai. We both know you overreacted.

“Who are you messaging over there?” I hear Jason say. I look up to see him looking at Elise.

“Just my aunt,” Elise replies, placing her phone face down on the table. “I was asking where she was going to be for Christmas. I want to see her.”

“Well, I’ll be in Hawaii,” Jason says.

“We’re going to Hawaii for Christmas?” I ask Jason. “Will Gigi be there?”

His face falls and he pokes his eggs with his fork. “Uh, no, Gigi won’t be there. I’m actually going to be there with my mom.” He looks up at me and sighs. “I always spend Christmas with her. It’s a part of their custody agreement.”

“Oh,” I say, nodding. I toss my half-eaten peach on the table, no longer hungry as the memory of my father beating me senseless creeps up my spine and dives head first into my stomach.

“You know, I could try to get out of it,” Jason says.

I quickly shut him down by shaking my head. “No, it’s cool. Um, I’ve actually got detention this morning with Mrs. Pierce. I should go.”

“Merde!” Elise gasps. “I forgot about that! I have to go to.”

I watch her leave a kiss against Jason’s cheek before she stands and gestures for me to follow her.

“Looks like it’s just us now, Rose,” I hear Sophie say as Elise and I leave the table.

▲ △ ▼ ▽

Mrs. Pierce places a stack of papers in front of us, then offers both of us a red pen.

“Are you sure we should be grading these?” I say, hesitantly taking one of the pens.

“I’m sure it violates some rule,” she says smiling. “But I’ve got three-hundred essays to read and only a few more days to do that in, so.” She shrugs her shoulders and walks back to her desk. “My only rule is that you can’t grade your own.”

This doesn’t look like punishment—not to Elise. She smiles as she grabs the first essay, her red pen already staining the white paper just a few words in.

I pick one of the essays up and read through it, not remotely as severe as Elise, whose paper looks like it had a bad nosebleed. I mark the few grammatical errors I notice and move to the next, while she reads the same one a second time, pen ever flowing, leaving notes to the writer.

“Are you having fun?” I ask.

She looks up at me, still smiling. “Maybe.”

I laugh quietly. “You’re a doofus.”

“Did you just call me a doofus?” she asks, trying her best to look offended.

“Maybe,” I say, shrugging.

She kicks me under the table. “So, have you heard from Sylvia?”

I give her a questioning look. “She text me while we were at breakfast,” I say. “I didn’t respond.”

“You should,” she says airily, marking on a new essay.

“I don’t want to talk to her,” I reply. “Je prefere te parler de ces culottes bleues.”

Her whole body freezes, apart from her eyes, which linger up to me—her cheeks turn a light pink and I can’t help but smirk at her.

“Nous ne parlons pas de ma culotte, Abram,” she whispers, looking back at work, though it’s easy to tell that she’s too flustered to focus on it.

“Bien. Parlons de ce que j'ai fait après,” I whisper back.

She takes in a sharp breath, but doesn’t look at me. I feel her foot brush against my leg and I look under the desk to see her tightly crossing her legs.

I grab the next essay from the stack of papers and look at the top right corner.

Elise Allaire.

“Interesting,” I say. I feel Elise look at me, but I keep my eyes on the paper. “The next morning, his eye are still blue, like Wyoming sky. And I still love him. And that is not permission, but it is complication—”

“No!” Elise shouts, snatching the paper clean from my hand. “Mrs. Peirce!”

“Yes, Allaire?” she replies.

“I don’t think we should grade each other’s either,” Elise says, standing. Her heels click as she walks to her desk. “It’s a conflict of interest.”

Mrs. Pierce looks from her, to me and back again before sighing and taking the papers from her. “Fine. When you find Dyer’s just give it to me.”

Elise finds her seat and I watch her carefully—cheeks now red and look hot to the touch. “I didn’t know you wrote poetry.”

“Abram,” Elise says, barely glancing up at me. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

▲ △ ▼ ▽

I feel like I’m going to puke as I wheel my suitcase toward a row of black town cars, knowing one of them contains Malachi Rose. I can’t help but wish that Jason was with me. Even if it hurt to look at him, it would feel better than being alone. I look around, and I notice that no one else is running to be reunited with their families. I don’t see fear, but I don’t see happiness either. All I see is indifference and loathing.

Maybe I’m not alone.

A few feet to my left I notice Elise, all black dress, perfect hair and heels, staring down at her cell phone as she drags a large powder blue suitcase behind her. I fight back the urge to shout her name, and a comment about the color of her luggage. It wouldn’t be fair to her to taunt her—not when I know what she’s going home to.

I reach for my phone to see if Malachi has text me, when I see an Instagram message pop up on the screen. I tap on the notification and it opens up my messages with Elise.

lislaire: If anything happens over break, you know you can message me, right?

Dyer: Thanks, I appreciate that

lislaire: Promise me you will?

Dyer: I promise.

I look up and into the crowd, searching for Elise. Once I find her—my mouth falls open. Her arms wrap around a woman I know to be my grandmother and I can’t stop myself from smiling as my heart leaps.

I quicken my pace and just as Elise pulls away, Gigi notices me behind her. I let go of my suitcase and grab onto Gigi the way I used to grab onto my mom. After a long hug, she pulls away and looks me over—only then noticing the fading, but still prominent bruise around my eye.

“Abram,” Gigi says harshly. “What happened to your eye?”

“Uh, hockey accident. I took a puck to the face,” I lie and hope that it isn’t obvious.

She considers me for a moment before nodding. “Of course. How could I forget that you play?”

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Well, I’m glad you asked,” Gigi replies. She looks from me, to Elise. “I’m here to pick you up. Both of you, actually.”

“What?” Elise says, “Where is my mother?”

Gigi smiles and takes in a deep breath. “With my son. We’re flying to meet them.”

“Where?” Elise and I say in unison.

“Paris,” Gigi replies. “Come now. We can’t leave the plane waiting.”

#ae #my writing

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