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#can we get em some notes i told em it would go hard on here
sadderrall · 3 months
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Round 3: Maria Ushiromiya (Umineko: When They Cry) vs. Amane Momose (MILGRAM)
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Propaganda below the cut
Maria Ushiromiya (9)
She's really obsessed with occult and witch stuff and acts inappropriately when her family gets murdered because she was told by the culprit that everyone was going to the Golden Land (a super special witch afterlife where you get whatever you want). She also has meltdowns like any autistic child. Because of this, some Umineko fans say that she deserves to get abused by her mother.
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People really do be saying that this literal nine year old who's been abused and neglected by her mom for her whole life is evil
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Some people in the Umineko fandom have decided that she's annoying because she's a 9 year old with autism. Personally I think she's based. She has a hard life but still tries her hardest to see the goodness in everything. She's kind, even feeling sorry for a wilting flower and hoping it'll get better. She's a very smart young girl who just isn't given the proper love a child needs from their parents to thrive. She deserved SO, SO much better than the cards life dealt her. I mustn't talk too much else I'll get emotional but Maria is peak.Best autistic witch girl.
Amane Momose (12):
Amane was voted guilty in the first trial so that she would acknowledge her guilt. It backfired, and now she’s considered a threat. Well, everyone is a threat, but nobody’s threat level has been as heavily discussed and debated as hers. Consider the next prisoner in line, Mikoto. He’s objectively more dangerous and cannot be restrained. He beat up the guard in trial 1, and he was able to hold his own when the other guilty prisoners were attacked. But a good incentive to forgive him is so that he will calm down. You know what? That’s a good incentive to forgive Amane too! But she *can* be restrained, so a good portion of the discussion went into how she should be voted guilty so she *will* be restrained and not a threat. Since her vote was a near 50/50, of course a good chunk of the voters expressed dissatisfaction with her forgiven verdict. Some are already planning to vote her guilty for trial 3, calling her a “lost cause”. She hasn’t even done any concrete harm yet. Hold the pitchforks until she actually causes harm, please? And what if she *was* voted guilty in trial 2? We’ve been warned that she will continue to deny our judgement. A second guilty verdict won’t make her better either, and then what? She’d be called a “lost cause” as well. There is no winning with her.
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Where do I even start? So first of all she’s an cult child who was physically and mentally abused and tortured by her parents and then (presumably) murdered her mother after her mother killed a cat that she took care of.
Now everyone in Milgram is a murderer but when Amane came and her MV showed her murder and circumstance in an admittedly highly fictionalized depiction of it the audience decided to…repeat the cycle of abuse!
She was voted guilty for the main reason of “teaching her” and helping her “realize that she was abused.” I would like to note that this tough love approach is something her parents utilized against her. “We are only doing this to help you.”
So the audience replicates Amane’s abusers and repeats the cycle of abuse and that’s pretty shitty but it isn’t exactly “Fuck Em Kids” level.
And then Trial 2 happened. Cause Amane is bitter and angry and horrifically traumatized so she acts aggressive and hostile. Especially towards another prisoner.
Now, again, everyone here is a fucking murderer (of atleast could be constructed as one) These people being able to Harm is a core concept of this series.
Yet for some reason it feels like people treat Amane as a “delusional creepy kid who wants to kill people” which completly takes away the nuance of her character. She does have the capacity to harm! Everyone here does! She’s not Uniquly Dangerous! She just has a Reason to be Dangerous. A Reason we GAVE HER by REPEATING THE CYCLE OF ABUSE.
In short: In a series full of Murderers I’m honestly a bit pissed that the 12 year old abuse victim is the one who’s treated like the guy from American Pyscho.
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TL;DR: "We metavoted this abused, indoctrinated child guilty in trial 1, but it didn't work. Now she is a threat to three grown adults: one who is fully free and two whom she has been shown to get along with. Please metavote her guilty again so she will be restrained and unable to attack them, even though that means subjecting her to further psychological torture." Amane Momose is the youngest of ten murderers, prisoners of Milgram who are to be judged innocent (forgiven) or guilty (unforgiven). In the first interrogation (voice drama), she said that what she did was in line with her religion's doctrines. If we judged her the "wrong way", she said she will just deny the verdict. Combining the voice drama and music video, you could piece together that she was raised in a cult and abused, even though she is cheerful and downplays her pain. She never shows *who* she killed, only *why* she did. After the first day of her vote, she was 81% innocent, but this wouldn't last the whole three months. Many people voted her guilty so she would "see her sins", part of the practice commonly known as "metavoting". Her innocent percentage rapidly decreased, and she hit guilty in the last 15 days, finishing at 51% guilty. At the end of the first trial, Jackalope (who is something like a host) went over all the prisoners' verdicts and commented on the general reasoning. When he got to Amane, he *laughed* at the audience for voting that way to make her realize her sins. Trial 2 rolled around, and it was revealed that Amane's victim was her abuser. On day one, she was at 74% innocent. Seems like a cut-and-dry case now, right? Well... in the intermission, two of the prisoners (Fuuta and Mahiru) were badly beaten up and became reliant on the care of Shidou, a doctor. Amane became hostile to Shidou because what he was doing was against her beliefs. She visited all three of them on their birthdays to convince them to change their ways. She seems to be especially close to Fuuta, who is now murmuring about salvation. Guilty prisoners are psychologically tortured, forced to listen to voices that reject their beliefs. Fuuta and Mahiru both say that the mental strain is worse than their physical injuries. But Amane, who also looks worse for wear, was thrown under the bus because she isn't injured and is considered a physical threat to them (never mind that she gets along with them). She's considered a threat to Shidou, a grown man who is twice her size and fully free, while she is partially restricted by the long sleeves in her trial 2 uniform. She might indoctrinate Fuuta even though, in a prison of ten people and one guard, she's the only voice of her cult. Fortunately, she got a break. Her vote was falling at a similar rate to the first trial. But this time, it stabilized at 51% innocent, 12 days before the end of her vote. But there's no way this is over.
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starpirateee · 25 days
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Hi!! Could you write one of the Curtwen prompts I made, yet didn’t cut it? I love your writing style!!
Honestly there was a bit of deliberation here because you put some really good ideas out there on the form, but I did say I'd write em myself, and by all means, I'll still do it! So, I decided to go for this prompt:
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Would you take a modern au from me? Can I do that?
I mean, I'm going to anyway, because I have a dire need to call Curt and Owen husbands (and also for wider Starkid lore), but i just thought I'd warn you beforehand!
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"Agent Carvour, have you found anything yet?"
Owen leaned back away from his research. He'd been looking at the same page now for a while, trying to make some sense of it. Redacted government files were hard to get hold of, but even harder to make ends of. His system had been trying to translate it, but not even he had the software for that.
"Quite possibly, sir. I have a few sources, at least."
"What have you got?"
With an air of something that was almost excitement and almost elation, Owen pulled up a series of documents and started the walk through them. "Well, sir, the easiest source was from a few years ago. There's a company in Michigan that's been trying to conduct various temporal experiments under their parent company— some kind of analyst company, I think. They're surprisingly ordinary. Anyway, apparently the experiments just… Stopped. They never drew a conclusion on whether or not their research was connected to what was on the other side."
This had all started when Chimera had dug up a series of centuries old reports about people claiming to have looked into the eyes of old gods. None of the people had known each other, but all of the reports showed some form of consistency, and all told of great, unknowable power.
So, they had decided to look into it, to see if there had been anyone else who'd dared to brave the process of trying to find an answer. Owen was one of those lucky enough to find himself with the resources to start a thorough investigation.
"They didn't finish?"
"No, I don't know what happened, but the reports just stopped one day."
"Is there anything else?"
"An american government report, but it's as hard as you can imagine to decipher. Most of it is redacted…"
"Anything worth noting?"
Owen nodded, carefully turning back and switching the tabs. This felt a little like he was giving a presentation that he hadn't prepared for, and he hadn't felt like this in quite some time. He took a breath, trying to slow down the rampage that was going on in his head. "They started in the early noughts. 2005, to be precide. That's the earliest I'd gotten without looking at those old reports from the pioneers. A branch of the military tried to build a gateway to the other side, to investigate what existed outside of our plane. I don't know names, only one. The name of the man who performed the experiment."
"They got this gateway open?"
"Yes, sir. And they sent someone through. I think there's a good reason why his is the only name they disclosed."
"Why?"
"Because he was declared dead, sir."
His screen still displayed the document, and the man's name sat among the black markouts, clear enough to see. Cross, W.D. Apparently, he'd ventured into the portal, and nobody heard from him or saw him after the date of the experiment. They gave up the search after a month, and after that, Colonel Cross was indeed declared dead.
"So, another dead end?"
"Maybe not. I'll do what I can to uncover this with what I've got available, but it was scanned, so…. It might take some time." Owen was normally confident in his abilities, and uncovering government documents was a difficult yet necessary part of the job. There was something almost genuinely enthralling about scraping off the parts that the world's governments wanted to keep secret. It felt like giving people a small yet surprisingly effective slice of justice every time.
"Keep looking, Carvour. We need to know if this is viable, or even worth our time…"
If Owen had any kind of normal life— if he and his husband didn't both do the dirty work for secret operation services— he would have a blast trying to decide how to describe the intricacies of what he'd been researching lately. The throws of domestic life confounded him to no end, which was why it was so funny when he and Curt tried to imitate that.
The otherwise simple question of "how was your day" turned into a battle of who could craft the most believable lie that better concealed what they'd actually done. Neither wanted to jeopardise their jobs, and Curt had always been brilliant at crafting stories, so it was never dull.
He started to think about what today's excuse would be. Something about pioneers, or the Oregon trail, or perhaps he could bring up that old, dead colonel somehow, that would be interesting to add to the pile.
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"You know what I'm gonna ask already…"
By the time he got home, Curt was already waiting for him, and the mid-spring sun was starting to set. For anyone else, it was a day at the office, but the trails he had begun to uncover had really put all other days at the office to shame.
He laughed softly, having prepared this answer a number of hours before, and took up a position on the couch. "No, love, you first. I insist."
"Fine, okay," Curt answered with a chuckle. "It was nothing really, just your standard… But, the bear returned, and in about a month, I'm gonna get really rich and run off to central Europe, with a really pretty lady and a dollar store box of magic tricks."
"The same bear from last month?"
"Yeah. Bastard won't leave me alone."
"Sounds wild. Are you coming back after your plans to run off with this really pretty lady?"
"Plan is to cut myself off after three weeks, but at this rate, I might not make it two."
"Not good enough?"
"Owen, I'm a bit too gay for that." To sell his point, he flashed his wedding band, and Owen laughed harder. "Besides," he added, covering his own bout of laughter. "Who needs a fake wife when I've got my own right here?"
Owen shot him a faux-offended glance. "How dare you!"
"You might fool the guys at work, O, but you couldn't pretend you don't think about it…"
Or that he hadn't been experimenting in that part of himself in little segments since he was seventeen. Turns out he suited long hair better, and he wouldn't hesitate to admit that he both looked and felt rather good with the occasional flourish.
"You know me well..."
"I should hope so! Anyway, what're you keeping from me? How was your day?"
"Office, just like you. I've had a conversation with a pioneer, and tried to erase marker pen over the body of a dead soldier. Oh, and I tried to teach myself statistical analysis."
"Jeez, that was— that was a whole rollercoaster there, huh?"
"Mhm, I've been busy."
"You can say that again, god… So, a pioneer? Like those guys that travelled to Oregon?"
"Yeah. Quite interesting people, if a little paranoid." Something other than their oxen might be watching them would've been a perfect addition to the statement, but Owen felt that was a little too close to the line to pass, so he decided not to add it.
The important part was, apart from the knowledge that Curt was on an assignment in a month's time, both of them were none the wiser. Curt didn't need to know that he had started the deep dive into a pack of eldritch gods and was even slightly nervous about the outcome.
He didn't sleep well that night. He knew that he had right to believe that this was all one great hoax, that there was something in the water that made the pioneers mass hallucinate this supposed watcher. They all travelled on the same trail, it was entirely plausible that all of them found the same hallucinogenic and envisioned a thousand eyes watching them and their familes. It was less of a coincidence when two subsidaries of larger companies started describing details of experiments that led them to discovering other beings beyond just the watcher, of course, but he still wasn't sure whether he was privy to believing any of it.
There was something about redacted government files, though, that were meant to be believed. There was a reason they hid information from the public, and that was often because they had found something worth disclosing in the first place. That meant huge news, large press cover ups… The whole works… And that was the last thing any self-respecting government with something to hide would want. Owen imagined the size of the initial press conferences for dealings like Roswell, how many people must've shown up to that conference, under the impression that they were going to get answers, only for the press to redact the next day and claim that it was no more than a weather balloon.
He felt like he was dealing with a weather balloon of his own right now. This was something that this branch of the military clearly didn't want people knowing. The only reason they'd had to disclose any information at all was because one of their own had died looking for this information, and they had to provide the closure for whatever family he had left. Part of him wondered what they'd said, how they'd tried to cover up this man's imminent demise at the hands of another dimension. What did his family know? Was he ever given a sendoff?
When Owen tried to sleep that night, plagued with the thoughts of how much his research was worth, and what really happened on the other side, he couldn't get his head in the right place to take a suitable rest for long enough. Flashes of colour— brighter than anything he'd ever seen— danced behind his eyelids, chasing each other in sequence. Blue. Purple. Yellow. Pink. Green. White. Blue…. He didn't have much of the capacity to think, not when those colours started consuming his subconscious thought, but he spared a moment to the hope that he may get answers of his own if he stuck around long enough.
"He thinks he's brave… He thinks we don't know about him…"
Whatever dream he had been having was taken over by blurred edges and violent pangs of pain that he was sure he could feel outside of this existence. Everything faded out, leving only ruin in it's wake. Broken pieces, scrambled signals… Owen didn't even try and make sense of it, he already understood the futility of trying. There was nothing left in his mind but those colours and those voices— for he was sure there was more than one. A sickening chorus, holding perfect time with each other.
"He's foolish, if he thinks he can go further without us finding out."
"Owennnn…"
"We know what you're doing, Owen…. It's not going to last."
He'd thought about meeting his maker before. He'd thought about the possibility of death, the idea that he may not live to see another day eventually. It was hard to deliberate something so serious in his early thirties, but his line of work called for it. He knew that he had a dangerous job, and that there were few who would be able to save him if something happened.
But, he'd never considered the possibility of his own demise to this extent before. In the formless remains of his dream, where he was forced into hearing these voices talk about his death and how soon it would be to coming, he had pause for deliberation. And it wasn't good.
He had to strain to take control of his own voice, in this space that was once his own. Once so sacred, now scarce and left entirely to the whim of whatever was taking residence in his mind. This was a bad idea. All of this research was a bad idea, and he was suddenly more aware of that than he was anything else. Never before had he had such a violent urge to overturn everything he'd worked on for the sake of something this seemingly trivial.
"There's nothing you can do. It's already started. This is bigger than me…"
"We know that. You're not the only one we have heard trying to work your way into what is ours… Choose your next step carefully, Owen. I'm sure we would delight in taking you in the same direction as the others…"
Before he could really ask what that meant, he was left entirely alone. The ruin of his dream still stood strong, which was strange enough given that the voices had left him alone, but he had the strangest feeling that there was more to this landscape than just what he was being shown. He started to wander, to look around in an attempt to find the real end to all of this. His mind was a wasteland, taken over by the lack of colour and the apparently deafening absence of those voices that had only appeared a moment before. He felt empty without them, although he knew nothing more than the sequence of colours that paraded through his vision.
Blue… Purple…. Yellow…
The pattern was familiar, like he'd seen it before somewhere. And while he wasn't resting easy, he couldn't force himself to wake up, either. No matter how hard he tried, he was just left stuck, wandering the expanse until he found what he was apparently looking for.
Pink…. Green…. White… Blue…
The expanses of his mind stretched out into a road, occupied by nothing but empty space. He supposed that was mostly his own fault; he had known for years that his imagination was never one to be put on par with anything else. He couldn't so vividly picture that which others could, and he'd never really had much of a capacity to dream, either.
So, this warning was strange. Seeing such vivid, bright colours in the back of his mind, knowing that he couldn't have conjured them himself…
He started to walk the road, curious enough to want to know where it went.
"Owen?"
That voice wasn't like the ones who had left moments before. That voice had a personality, and a person to go with. It was warm, though scared. Human all the same. And Owen knew the shape of it.
"Owen?"
Owen let his instinct lead him down the road, through it's many curves and winds. Eventually, the road gave way to what could only possibly be a stage. There was a set of stairs to one side, that he let himself climb before he could think to wonder where they led, and then the familiar voice gave way to a man in the wings, staring at him with desperate, fear-lined eyes. Of course he knew the voice, and of course he had never tried to doubt himself on the matter.
He tried to advance towards Curt, but he took a hasty step back, shaking his head.
"Curt?"
"Prove you're Owen."
"I'm sorry?"
Curt hesitated, and then slowly emerged from the wings. Even though he stood on the light of the stage, it still looked like he was carefully enveloped in shadow, like the darkness was a comfort to him. Owen looked around, wondering what had made him so cautious, and whether it was still around. Had Curt seen what he'd seen? What had those things whispered to him?
"I'm not falling for it again. Tell me you're actually Owen…"
Owen frowned, not wanting to dwell too much on why Curt was so afraid to reach out to him and realise that all of this was as real as they could get it. "Curt, love, I don't know what you want me to say…" There was a certain desperation about him too. Improvisation had never been his strong suit, but he wass confident that, given the right prompt, he would be able to convince his husband that he was who he said he was, to quell any discrepancy that it may have been otherwise.
"Don't. Show me… What happened on your 25th birthday."
The pieces fit into place, and Owen nodded dutifully. He had been out in the field that day, a strikingly hot day in the middle of June. The two of them had barely ended up with three hours together by the end of it, and they'd gone out drinking to celebrate what little time was left of his birthday. He'd never been particularly big on celebrating, but Curt had insisted. They were newly married then, and getting used to the idea of sharing a life with someone else. That was one of the first nights following their wedding when Owen truly came to realise that he'd made entirely the right decision, and that there was nobody he'd rather share his life with than Curt Mega.
"My 25th… That was a home ground mission. I was in the state."
"What happened to you?"
Owen smiled, somewhere between fondness and a need to hide the melancholic air that hung about that question. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, and huffed a weary breath of laughter. "I was trying to make my exit, but the suit jacket caught on a fence. Here…" With his sleeve rolled to just the right length, Owen held out his arm and pointed out a pale flash just below his elbow— a jagged scratch that had never quite healed right. "That's what happened after the fabric tore. Is that enough?"
Curt had known about the scar. He'd also known about the story. He was pretty sure that nobody else knew, though, so in his head, that had always been his fallback option in the event that he was ever sure Owen needed to prove himself. Those stories lined up perfectly, and while Owen had missed out on some of the details, in the grander scheme of things, he'd gotten it exactly right. He shifted, letting a knowing smile cross his face through the fear that still gripped him.
"It's really you…"
"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"
Curt's approach was still careful, premeditated. Even though he knew the truth now, there was still something about him that screamed a lack of trust directly into his ear, and it made actually reaching out for Owen so much harder. "You… You were trying to kill me."
"What now?"
"I know what I saw…"
"I don't doubt you, but I would never… I swear it on my life."
"I know, that's why it was strange… I— What the hell's happening?" This stage was the only thing connecting the two of them to reality. There was nothing beyond it but the end of the road that Owen had travelled down, and nothing behind it but black, empty space.
Owen let his instinct take over. If the two of them were going to face the unknown, whatever and wherever this was, then they were going to do it together. They always had, and they always would. That was the way things worked, especially for the two of them, because their lives were built so heavily on the idea of distrust that any semblance of the opposite they could get, they would cling to. Normally that was exclusively each other, and so the world wasn't usually much larger than the two of them.
Their hands connected in the middle of the emptiness. Owen pulled Curt Closer to him, and the two of them stood side, performers to an unknown audience, marionettes for something larger than themselves. They exchanged a glance, and Owen registered the warm, homely spark residing in Curt's eyes.
"I think we're trapped in a nightmare, crazy as it sounds," he tried to respond, but he wasn't entirely sure where this was going to go. "I can't wake up, but I remember falling asleep last night."
"Me too. I fell asleep before you did, you were still reading."
"Right, and now there's this. Whatever this is. did you, by chance, see those colours too?"
Curt nodded. "They came before you did, before the- other you. Blue, and purple, and yellow…"
"…Pink, and green, and white..?"
"And then blue again."
Owen heaved a sigh. "Curt, there's something I have to confess. It's safe to do so now, there's little that could get in the way of what I have to admit, but this is one of those things I wouldn't be able to tell you awake, you understand?"
There was a moment's pause, in which Curt tried to work around Owen's phrasing. Both of them felt the incredibly revealing sense that they were being watched, so Curt understood that Owen had gone into the professional mindset— switching off his senses for the sake of making as much sense of something as possible. It was always how he rationalised his way through situations, and it hadn't failed him yet.
Eventually, Curt nodded again, as the words started to sink in and he started to get a sense of what was being said. "This about what you told me this evening?"
"Yeah, I'm afraid there's a little more to it than what I told you, but I suppose that was rather obvious."
A nervous breath of laughter left Curt, only partially voluntary. "I thought there'd be a bit more to it than erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier…. What the hell kinda explanation was that, anyway?"
"One I spent a good hour crafting, thank you very much. I thought it was clever."
"Better than a pretty lady and a box of tricks?"
"And a bear, yes."
"… And the bear. Right. Well, what's that mean? erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier, what're you saying there?"
"I've…" This is not going to get you done for. Those documents were already top secret before you saw them. And if it gets you out of this nightmare prison, then surely it has to be worth it. "I've been uncovering sealed military case files that might explain what's happening to us right now."
Curt's eyes went wide. "Fucking what?!"
"It's all part of the job. I can't… I can't elaborate. Know only what everyone else knows: that the only reason any part of this is disclosed at all is because someone died during one of the experiments."
"What's that got to do with what's happening here?"
"That's what they were researching."
That seemed to click to some degree. At least, Curt seemed to understand a few of the larger pieces, perhaps the more obvious ones. "The colours?" In his head, there was an experiment, someone tried to make sense of whatever that was in their shared mindscape. Someone— a soldier, presumably, had died in the middle of these experiments, and now Owen had gotten tangled in this mess through his agency, and the two of them had been dropped into the same nightmare.
Owen nodded. "The colours."
At the moment he said that, a loud rumble disrupted their moment and forced their attention out into the expanse of nothing. Laughter— multiple sources with varying shrieks and gasps that couldn't be placed to a single source— burst from behind the wings, and from in front of them, and from the endless expanse of black that surrounded them. A loud crack followed, and Curt swore as the stage splintered beneath his feet. For a split second, his grip loosensed, and the next time the ground rumbled, they were torn apart by the growing crack in the stage. He staggered back, and the two of them ended on opposite sides of the stage, the crack between them growing and delving deeper into the unknown.
"Owen!" He called, trying to regain his footing but falling back.
"Curt! Hold on!" Owen yelled through the growing laughter, scrambling back to reach out for the pulley system backstage. He needed a foothold on something, a way to sturdy himself so he could regroup and think. It was too loud, he couldn't think in this kind of heat, with this kind of mess, and Curt, and-
Another crack. The stage was starting to fall away from itself, split not quite perfectly in two. Owen's breath ran short. In the swirls of colour and mayhem and possibilities, he saw a way out. One chance to get this right, and to make sure that they both survived the fall while they were still stuck here. He gripped the rope tight, levering himself further towards the crack, and looked to Curt. "You're gonna have to jump it!" He called, desperation winning over any attempts to stay sane. "Don't worry! You know I'll never let you down!"
"Are you crazy?!" Curt managed, staring into the gap. "I can't jump that, it's too far!"
"Curt, before the whole place splits in half, you have to get over here!"
"What if I don't make it?"
"Trust me! Please!"
Curt backed off a few paces. Owen stood ready, one hand gripping the rope wrapped around his wrist, and the other reaching out as far as he could, waiting for a move to be made. After a singular preparatory breath, he sprinted for the gap, and pushed off from the splintered wood at the edge.
He reached out.
Owen reached out.
Their fingertips connected briefly in the space, and then Curt slipped away beneath his grasp.
Owen threw himself forward, feeling the rope worming itself free and burning his wrist in the process. He'd promised. He wasn't going to let Curt fall. And he was nothing if not a man of his word.
Curt's eyes squeezed shut, preparing for an endless fall through the ineviatble. Something laced around his wrist and he felt himself stop moving. Exerting all the caution he knew to exert, he looked up, and caught a familiar whiskey brown staring back at him.
"I've got you!" Owen breathed, and Curt fought to angle himself so that he could get a better chance to grab the broken stage floor. When Owen started hauling backwards, Curt managed to get a hold of the edge of the stage, and made it a joint effort to haul him to his feet. "You're alright… You're okay…"
Curt essentially fell into Owen's arms. Owen held on tight, like he could lose his partner at any second to the swirls and the crevice. He stared out into the emptiness, ignoring the very real pain that he could feel at his wrist but cherishing the very reel feeling of Curt's shirt underneath his hands. The very air seemed to shift. Owen wasn't previously aware that colours could get angry, but this green that flooded the space behind his eyes was pissed. He could feel it.
So was he. Pissed, and way more desperate than a man ought to be.
"Alright," he muttered once, and Curt drew back ever so slightly. He noticed Owen was staring off into the greater expanse, and hoped for all it was worth that he couldn't see something out there.
"Alright!" His voice got louder, and he tried to mask his utter despair in an authorative tone. "I get it. You hear me? I get it!"
Everything fell eerily silent. The only sound that remained was the pounding of Owen's heart in his ears. He took a breath, strangely certain of himself. Glanced at Curt. Spared his attention on the void again.
"That soldier… Wilbur Cross? That was your fault, wasn't it? There's a good reason nobody can get very far into digs like these, and it's because you strive to kill them before they do. Nobody ought to know what's on the other side, and that's why nobody does…"
"Owen, what're you doing?" Curt whispered, but to no response and little avail. Owen was lost in whatever he was about to say.
"… But, I've heard talk of bargains being made here, so how about it?"
"Your desperation speaks for itself."
Owen had to pretend that that— the voice from the middle of nowhere or what it had said to him— didn't bother him in the slightest. He steeled himself, not sure where to direct his attention but knowing he'd probably have it right no matter what he chose. "What do you say, am I allowed to make a deal?"
The air shifted. Owen didn't receive a direct answer, but he knew that he'd been allowed to continue. "If I don't continue— if I go back, and tell my people that it's an impossibility, that it can't be done— would you let him go?" Another quick glance at Curt, as if the green something needed clarification, or as if he knew what he was signing himself up for.
Curt was frozen in place, his eyes wide. He'd heard every word as it echoed in the void, and he hated what it was implying. His gaze was fixed on Owen, fear blazing through his face. "No, Owen—" his voice came out weak. As far as literal interpretations go, that was not a good one. He didn't understand what was happening, but it terrified him to know that Owen was being so calm about this, while he could be selling his life away with nothing more than a few choice words.
Owen frowned, and muttered an apology he was sure only Curt would catch. The green grew angrier, setting a violent fire behind his eyes and forcing him onto his knees as the pain flooded his body.
"You better not be fucking with me."
"No! I— I wouldn't! I'm serious! I'll call it off, I swear on my life, just… He has nothing to do with any of this. It's not his fault."
The thing considered, holding Owen firmly in place while he deliberated. Curt couldn't move— he didn't dare, lest something happen to Owen that put him in more danger than he was already in. All he could do was force himself into keeping his breath steady, and not thinking about what a single wrong move could do to either of them. His eyes landed on the friction burn winding neatly around Owen's wrist, and he decided to focus on that for a while; the only other colour in a void of blackness and green.
"Very well."
That was the last thing Owen heard. Some part of his mind just shut down, and he collapsed to the floor of the stage. He didn't hear the way Curt screamed his name, or the return of the chorus of laughter. His eyes closed, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up with a start, underneath the sheets of his own bed, gasping for breath. He sturdied himself out, and once he was sure that he was real, and definitely in a familiar space, he looked over to Curt, and found him still asleep.
"Curt?" His voice was soft, but his mind was a knife point of tension. If that had gone wrong, then why was he the one to live through it ant not Curt? He tried again, biting his lip. "Curt..?"
Curt groaned. His eyes opened slowly. The relief that Owen felt hit him like a tidal wave.
For some reason, Curt was entirely surprised to see that Owen had made it through to the other side. He managed a weary smile, and tried to get his vision into focus. That was one of those decisions that he immediately came to regret. As soon as he brought himself a little more into the real worls, he noticed that the brown in Owen's eyes was stained with something else, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. Dripping down his irises was a flash of toxic, unsettlingly bright green.
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bi-bard · 2 years
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Maisie Peters Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Dick Grayson - Dick Grayson Imagine [Titans (HBO)]
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Title: Maisie Peters Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Dick Grayson
Pairing: Dick Grayson X Reader
Word Count: 1,514 words
Warning(s): mention of a break-up, insecurities
Author's Note: I have been waiting to use "Good Enough" for an individual imagine because I wanted to see if it was going to be on Maisie's next album.
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Good Enough
'Cause I used to think that if I tried my best I'd always win But I'll sit in your favorite dress and wonder how you've been And did you ever mean it when you said you were in love? I was good, just wasn't good enough
I never expected to be back in the Titans Tower.
In all honesty, I would've been happy ignoring that part of my life ever happened. The entire period was embarrassing and heartbreaking and... I simply didn't like remembering a lot of it.
But here I was.
In the same building, in the same living room, same kitchen, same bedroom, same training room.
Like nothing ever happened.
I tried to adjust. Readjust.
It wasn't going well.
I found myself lying on my back on the training room floor. Trying to come to terms with the idea of being back here. I needed to get back into the mindset of who I was back then. But it was hard to do that when I had some strange hatred for the person I was at that point.
I didn't hear Dick walk into the room.
I just heard him sigh as he laid on the floor next to me. I didn't look at him, but I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face.
"I know you don't want to be back here," he said quietly. "But you weren't safe-"
"I know," I stopped him. "I know that you're just trying to protect me. I get it."
He looked back to the ceiling.
We had so much more history than the others. Well, maybe not Donna, but other than that... it was all so much deeper.
Dick had done all he could to make me feel loved and seen and accepted. He was the first person I met that didn't see someone that was simply useful. He just saw me. He held me and kissed me and...
He never seemed to hesitate. It was just natural to him.
And then, he left me.
I watched him start whatever romance he had with Dawn. I did it with a smile on my face. But I still longed for him. I missed him. He was all I wanted.
That's what I was truly embarrassed about.
Everything else was guilt.
"I've missed you," he spoke up again. "I should've done more to stay in contact with you."
"Not like I tried all that hard," I muttered.
We paused again.
A long silence that created some blanket of tension over the entire room.
I took a deep breath. I wanted to be the hero I was. I wanted to be able to fight and work and do what I was meant to. But I couldn't do that if I was still so angry with myself. I needed to find a way to forgive myself for... everything.
"Can... Can I ask you something," I asked, still not able to look at him.
"Yeah," he said.
"Did you... Did you love me?"
The weight in the room got heavier.
"Ever, I mean? Did you ever mean it? Truly?"
"Yes."
There was zero hesitation. Not an ounce of it.
It was comforting.
That idea that it was all true. All genuine. I wasn't led on. I wasn't chasing something that had never been there. I was desperately searching for something that had existed and just died out.
"Completely."
It still hurt. But it helped.
"I'm sorry-"
"I know," I cut him off again.
We laid there in silence for a while. No talking or touching or anything. Just existing.
And I think I had missed that more than anything else.
Neck of the Woods
Got a secondary, secondary chance So I'm taking my love to the dance And all of my demons are wallflowers watching us But, darling, I pay 'em no mind You just look so pretty tonight And everything's looking so good You're in my neck of the woods, baby
I learned the hard way that the tower being completely silent made me sick to my stomach.
After Dick told us the truth about Jericho, most of the team had walked out. I couldn't. I wasn't angry with Dick. I understood why the others were, but I just... wasn't.
I was curled up on the couch. I was tired and stressed and... stuck. It's that feeling when too much happens at once and your body tries to shut down.
"Hey."
I looked over at Dick when he spoke up. I grinned a bit at him.
He walked over to the couch. "You really stayed? After everything?"
"I'm shocked too," I replied, forcing a chuckle. "I... I couldn't leave. I don't blame you for what happened."
He looked down, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Hey," I said. He looked at me again. I nodded to the spot next to me.
He sighed before sitting down next to me.
"I never blamed you," I continued. "Even back then. I... I left because the tower was shutting down. But... I only ever blamed Slade for what happened. Even if you were there, Slade is the one to blame for everything that happened."
Dick looked down again, focusing more on his hands than he did on me. I reached over and placed my hand on his. I watched him stare at our hands for a moment before looking back at me.
"Everything I did... everything I fucked up... and you stayed," he muttered.
"You still sound shocked."
"Because you should hate me."
I moved my hand enough to intertwine our fingers. "I don't think I could hate you... even if I wanted to."
He closed his eyes for a moment.
I bit my lip, watching him sigh and his shoulder slouch.
I found myself moving closer to him on the couch before I could put much thought into it.
He was right. I should've hated him.
I was right. I couldn't.
"Dick," I muttered.
He opened his eyes again when I spoke up.
I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. It had been so long... too long. I had missed this so much. His hand cupped the side of my face, probably more out of instinct than anything else.
He pulled back. Not far. Just enough to stop the kiss.
"Sorry," I mumbled. "I shouldn't have-"
"It's okay," he stopped me. "I just... I missed that."
I chuckled. "Me too."
He leaned over and kissed me again. It was shorter this time and he smiled as he pulled away this time.
"I'm not going anywhere," I promised. "Get used to it, Grayson."
He laughed, shaking his head. "I'll do my best."
I moved so my head was leaning on his shoulder. "You better."
Adore You
Oh, we got caught in a moment And I'll lay with you all night So good that now I'm hoping You'll hold me down for life
I met Bruce before I met Dick.
He had caught me trying to take out some gang on my own. He saved my ass that night. After that, he let me stay in the manor for a few nights, waiting for my injuries to heal.
A few nights turned into a few weeks.
I grew closer Dick, who was still working with Bruce at the time.
He started spending more time around me. Talking with me, trying to get information about my history and why I had tried to go after that gang.
And I told him.
I told him so easily that I managed to surprise myself. I had never so easily opened up to someone.
I would find out years later that someone had encouraged Dick that keeping at least one person close would help him. Help to keep him from spiraling.
But at the time, I didn't know any of that.
I just knew that this guy that dressed up and ran around with Batman was interested in my history and who I was. Not in how useful I could be to him. It meant a lot to me.
I couldn't remember how we had gotten onto the subject of my family that night. We were both sitting on the floor at the end of his bed. It was late but neither one of us could fall asleep. So, we were just talking.
I had mumbled something about how the last people I had stayed with seemed to ignore me when I wasn't doing something that they deemed useful.
Something about how I felt invisible. Like something that people should be ashamed of.
Something seemed to click in Dick's mind when I said that. I barely noticed that something had changed.
I froze when his lips touched mine.
It was only a couple of seconds before he pulled away again.
"I think you're pretty cool," he shrugged at me.
I tried to quickly shake off the shock of the kiss. "I... I think you're pretty cool too, Grayson."
He grinned at me before nervously looking down at the floor.
God, that grin would be the death of me.
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Here's a hot take (probably not actually a hot take but I don't know): How are we blaming Dick for what happened with Jericho? I was gonna avoid it, but I mean... surely that shit could have been avoided if Slade didn't execute his plan like a dumbass. And y'know, wasn't an assassin...
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Dick Grayson Tag List: @igotanidea
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Navigation Guide
What I Write For
Some Original Characters
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keep-the-wolves-close · 3 months
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Steady Heart
Chapter 16: Down
* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels
* Rating: M
* Warnings: language, tame angst, kidnapping, hanging someone with a noose
* Word count: 2,944ish
I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all
Author's note: Oh shit y’all, it’s gettin’ real. We definitely see a different side to Miss Stella-belle here. A scary side. I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well!
Stella sat at the table and watched the guys play poker. She was situated in between Jimmy and Ethan. After the whole fighting with Rip situation and everything that followed, it was nice to just kick back for a few minutes and relax. Since she wasn’t playing, she decided to get comfortable. She cocked her chair at the right angle to be able to lean back against Jimmy and part of his chair.
Jimmy looked down at Stella and back up in confusion. Most of the guys didn’t question her quirks anymore, so this would have been normal if it was anyone else she leaned on. He whispered to her. “What’re you doin’?”
“Makin’ myself comfy. What about it?”
“Nothin’.” He shook his head and went back to his cards. He noticed Stella trying to peek at them and laid them flush against the table. She went back to watching everyone shuffle things around.
“If you have three 10’s we’re fist fighting.” Ryan told Colby. Stella smirked figuring out she came by her punchy mindset honestly from her brother.
“Actually I do.” Colby taunted back.
“Yes, yes.” Ryan sarcastically agreed.
“We all know I do.”
“Here’s the river.” Lloyd laid out the cards in a row.
“Oh!” Ryan exclaimed. “Did you get it?” He asked Colby.
Jimmy looked at the card on the table and fought for his life to hold in laughter. Stella glanced between him and Colby.
“Is that your poker face Jimmy?” Stella asked.
“Cause you look like you gotta take a shit.” Colby stated. He looked at Stella leaning on the wrangler. “Stella what are you doin’?”
“I’m comfortable. A lot has happened to me over the last week. I’m tired.” Jimmy flattened his face, trying for a better look.
“A little better my dude, but you still kinda look like a toddler.” Stella laughed.
“I don’t think your bad lucks run out yet. I’m all in.” Ryan teased the newest wrangler. Jimmy pursed his lips.
“Ooh, I think you’re bluffin’ but I’m too broke to take that chance.” Jake said and folded.
Colby smiled at the faces Jimmy was making, pleased to see him gain some confidence. “This ain’t Go Fish Jimmy. I’m all in too.” Colby slapped his cards onto the table.
A chorus of oooos followed the action. Stella watched like a hawk. Jimmy looked at her and smiled. She could sense he was about to hit hard.
“Turn ‘em over boys.” Lloyd prompted.
“What do we got?” Ryan asked impatiently.
“Flush.” Colby declared.
Jimmy flipped his cards over and he had two aces. Everyone at the table laughed at the surprising turn. Jimmy flipped them all double birds. Colby and Ryan look disappointed that they’d lost.
The door swung open. Rip came with Avery behind him. Stella almost danced in her seat that she was finally here. “Hey boys, this here is Avery. She’s the new groomer. You treat her like a cowboy, you understand what I mean?”
Rip introduced the women for the sake of saving face. “Stella, Avery.” He faced Avery. “She’s the horse trainer, you can work with her.”
“Perfect!” She smiled at Avery. They shared a secret look.
Stella watched Rip leave with a smirk and the house got silent. It sounded like someone hit the mute button on a tv. Every man in the room was sitting like a little kid that was about to get sick. After about 10 seconds Stella belly laughed and looked at Avery as the woman got closer to her. “Girl, I have never heard this house this quiet.” She looked at her brother. “We should have done this sooner.”
“Which bunks free?” Avery walked around the table and assessed the house's layout.
“Uh, back on the left.” Ryan pointed out quietly.
“Didn’t you used to be at —,” Colby started to ask, but Avery cut him off quickly.
“— yup. Where’s the pisser?”
Ryan looked at Stella like she’d grown 17 heads. She smirked and gave him a shrug. Jake pointed to the back hallway.
“Shower that way too?”
“Unless somebody moved it.” Lloyd said.
Avery walked back around the table and grabbed her bag. She took her stuff over to her new bunk and all the wranglers rushed to follow. Stella came up next to her brother and leaned against the wall, excited to see the disruption the men were experiencing. Avery pulled off her jacket. Walker sat up, interested in where this was going.
“Well,” Avery sighed and started undoing her belt. “Might as well get this over with.” She yanked her pants down. All the men averted their eyes. Stella barked out laughter and slapped her thigh.
“I don’t know why you’re all so nervous. I’ve had my ass in every face in this room.” Avery jested.
Stella was near choking on her laughter, tears streamed down her cheeks. She clutched her belly, trying to breathe. “Oh,” she groaned. “I’m sorry Avery. Give your mission statement.” Stella calmed herself.
“For the record,” she stepped toward the group in the archway. “If I wake up in the middle of the night to one of you assholes standing over me beatin’ your root,” she made sure to look at all of them. “I’ll cut it off.” She pulled her shirt off and made her way to the bathroom. “Gimme 15 then deal me in would ya?”
Everyone turned to go sit back down. Ryan stayed in the archway and looked up at the ceiling. “God, this was not a test I was expecting.” He turned, glaring at his sister before making his way to his seat. Walker got up, grabbed his hat and put on his coat.
“Where you goin’?” Lloyd asked from the table.
“I’ve worked for some strange outfits in my day. This place beats ‘em all.”
Stella came over and took her seat in between Jimmy and Ethan again.
The game was in full swing with Avery this time. Everyone talked all at once. Stella spectated from the sidelines. Amused at Avery taking the table for suckers. Stella cheered for her victory. Avery leaned over the table collecting her wins.
The door opened and Stella spotted Kayce coming in. It was an odd occurrence but not unwelcome. He caught Stella leaning against Jimmy and his face looked accusatory. She sat up and opened her mouth to say something, but he looked more than angry, so she thought better of it.
He locked eyes with Avery. Both of them looked like the world had stopped turning. “Somebody point me to an empty bunk,” he gruffly asked.
Stella saw the interaction and felt her stomach drop when the room got quiet again. Yes, she didn’t know why Kayce was here and asking for a bunk, but with the way Kayce looked at Avery, she wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. She looked down at the table, trying to make herself as invisible as possible.
Stella quietly offered, “the only bunk left is the one above mine.”
He walked by and Stella watched Avery become entranced by him. Stella reached out to him. They brushed hands in a silent hi, but no words were spoken. Stella slouched forward, curling into herself.
Kayce threw his bag and it landed with a hard thud against the wall. He took his hat off and placed it on the bed. All the wranglers freaked out, telling him not to put it on the bed, all at once. Stella let out a soft chuckle because she knew Kayce’s thoughts on the matter.
Kayce glared at the decibel level. “I don’t believe in that shit.”
“Nobody told me that was an option.” Jimmy sounded exasperated.
“It’s not.” Lloyd says while Colby laughed.
Stella glanced up and saw Avery making literal heart eyes at Kayce across the room. The weird possessiveness that took over her made her feel sick. She needed to nip that quick. She could hear Kayce take off his zip up and throw it.
Ryan tapped the table, pulling Avery and Stella back to the present. “All right come on. Let’s play again.” The cards start shuffling around on the table. Ryan called Avery out. “You, big talker.”
“Yeah yeah yeah.” She mocked him.
Kayce looked back at everyone. He stole a glimpse at Avery, looked to the sky, and shook his head. He caught Stella’s eye, but let it go. He jumped up on his bunk with a grunt, laid back and covered his face with his hat.
Stella went over to her bunk. It was going to be a long night. Rip had told her to stick around. Something to do with John needing something done and it was time to teach her. She tapped Kayce on the elbow. He sighed loudly.
“What Stella?”
Stella shrunk back like she touched the electric fence for the cattle. “Nevermind.”
Her voice was small and it killed him to hear it. He just didn’t have the patience to answer questions. He felt the frame shift when Stella climbed into the bottom bunk.
Everyone woke up the next morning and got ready for the day. Stella tried to get out of the house first, but Kayce had beat her to it. From the looks of it, he had been out here with Rip and Lloyd for a while.
Kayce frowned and asked, “the hell are you doin’ here?”
Her eyebrows shot up and she made a face over her glasses at him. “Good mornin’ to you too.” She pushed her glasses up and continued. “I was asked to come along.”
“You what?”
“I didn’t stutter, Kayce.” She snapped at him. If he was going to be bitchy at her, she’d hand it right back. She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets.
Rip gave them their orders. “You two drive separate. We need two trucks.” Kayce huffed and went to his vehicle.
Stella glared at Rip from where she stood. He glared back and raised his eyebrows effectively getting her to stomp over to Kayce's truck. Rip wasn’t sure what had happened there, but they needed to put it aside and get the work done. Work didn’t wait for an argument to end.
She heard the door unlock and climbed in without waiting for permission. She didn’t even bother to look at Kayce. She put on her seatbelt and looked out the window. Cracking her window she refused to give Kayce the time of day.
Kayce cleared his throat, “Stella,” he paused and she watched his reflection in the window. He still looked angry. “Look at me.”
“No. You’re being an asshole.”
Kayce scoffed. “Whatever.” He roughly started the truck and they pulled out.
When they arrived downtown, Rip pulled into a parking spot and Kayce backed in. He put his hand on Stella’s headrest to look back at what he was doing. Stella grumbled to herself because an odd feeling came over her at the masculine display. She shook her head, forcing herself to remember she was angry at him and he had a wife. They got out and Rip gave them quick directions. They had to act as fast and as inconspicuous as they could. Lloyd was to start following Dan, then Rip, and then Kayce and Stella would accomplish getting him into Rip’s truck. Before then, they had to act natural.
Stella nodded at the orders wondering what natural was gonna be for them. Going to stand at the front of Kayce’s truck turned her ball cap forward and pulled the brim down to hide her face. Kayce stood next to her and said nothing. It was hard to ignore that his elbow brushed against her arm though. Always touching somehow. Stella bit her tongue and kept looking at the ground.
“What’s wrong?” Kayce asked quietly. He leaned an arm on the back of the truck and turned his body to face her.
She cringed inwardly at having to make this look convincing. She angled her head to look up at him under the brim of his black cowboy hat. “Nothing.”
“C’mon Stella, you gotta give me more than that.”
“I don’t have to give you shit. You’ve been an asshole since yesterday when I only wanted to say hi. I’m just returning the favor.”
Kayce groaned. “You can’t hold that against me.”
“Why can’t I?” She turned her body to face his. Her jaw clenched and she spoke through her teeth. “It was unwarranted. I did nothing to deserve that except say hi.” Stella poked his chest. “So I don’t don’t owe you shit. End of discussion. We’ve got work to do.” Kayce clenched his jaw as she turned her gaze elsewhere.
When she chose to look past Kayce, she could see Jenkins walking down the sidewalk. Lloyd swung in behind him from in between two random cars. Dan glanced behind him at the motion. Stella could see him tense up. Dan saw Rip leaning casually on an SUV. Rip stepped up onto the sidewalk and walked along the curb next to Jenkins. Dan started to reach for his pocket. He pulled out his phone, took a few more steps, and started to jog while trying to duck in between cars. Rip started whistling like he would if they were wrangling.
Dan found out the hard way that he wasn’t going to get through because Kayce spun on his heels and rounded in between the trucks fast. Stella came behind him at his back. Kayce grabbed Dan so he couldn’t run and opened stellas door. Stella opened the door to Rip's vehicle and she and Rip shoved Dan into the truck.
Kayce maneuvered Stella in front of him and let her climb in the truck. Kayce put his hands in his pockets and walked nonchalantly around to the driver’s side. Rip pulled out quickly one way while Kayce and Stella went another.
Everyone made it back to the ranch from opposite directions. They stopped by the bunkhouse and sent Stella to grab Jimmy. She wandered in looking for the not so new newbie. “Jimmy? We need your help with something. Grab your coat.”
He looked up from what he was doing. “Oh alright. I’ll be right behind you.”
Stella turned on her heel and stepped back through the door. She opened the back door of the truck so Jimmy could quickly get in.
Rip and Kayce drove them out to the middle of nowhere in the woods on the property. Lloyd brought up the rear with a horse. Rip looked at Stella. “Stand off to the side. We’ll take care of this part.”
She leaned back against the tree next to Jimmy. Lloyd held the horse in place. Stella was starting to put two and two together. The horse was placed underneath a thick branch. She let out a harsh huff. ‘Fuck they’re gonna string him up like old cowboys.’ She felt eyes on her and found Kayce watching her. She knew he was confused as to why she was here, why she was involved in something like this. Rip told her John wanted her here. She didn’t ask why, she just wanted to help in any way she could.
Rip knew John wanted Kayce to learn and he wanted Stella by his son’s side. When Rip heard her declaration of helping Kayce until her dying breath, he knew she had to be brought in and this was the perfect opportunity. She couldn’t help Kayce fight for this place if she didn’t know what was going on behind the scenes.
With some struggle from Dan, they got the noose around his neck and placed him on the horse. Rip tossed the end of the rope to Jimmy over the tree. “Tie that up tight.”
“You guys are fucking idiots!” Dan screamed. “You’ll rot in prison for this the rest of your fucking lives.”
Rip threatened him with a sneer. “No no no. It happens all the time. The lost souls, they come out here into the forest and they can’t bear to live another day. So they decide to end it all.”
Kayce looks down and smirks under his hat at the implied threat. Stella swallowed and stood straight.
“It’s really toughest on the kids, ya know? They never understand why.” Rip kept going.
“Fuck you.” Dan cursed at him.
“Don’t you look at me you piece of shit. You look at them.” Rip tossed his head to Kayce and Stella. “Stand so he can see you too.” Stella accepted that she was in this now, and there was no turning back. She put her hands in her jacket pockets and moved up in front of Kayce, and he placed his arm around Stella’s side and grasped it. He needed to feel like she was safe. He could control that. “They have to understand what they’re up against.” Kayce and Stella observed Dan from below.
Rip continued, prompting Dan to give up information to the pair. “That semi that ran into Mr. Dutton’s truck? Was that an accident?” Kayce and Stella’s faces pulled together in realization at the same time.
Dan admitted, looking at them. “It was a convenient opportunity.”
Kayce licked his lips agitated and looked down quickly. Stella’s face tightened as it settled into an aggressive resting position at the knowledge from Dan. She leaned back against Kayce, disgusted at the information.
“Well it ain’t so convenient now, is it?” Rip influenced him. Dan grabbed at the rope around his neck and grunted. Losing some air as the horse cocked its hip. Rip led Dan further into his admission. “I want you to tell them about the land. Tell them how you get it. Go on.” Rip watched both of them closely.
“We’ll inflate the land prices. Run up the property tax.” Dan was running out of air. “And price people out.” Stella could feel Kayce get angrier the more Dan spoke. The underhandedness and dirty dealings to steal the one thing that brought them all together and kept them safe had Stella seething. It was their home. Their safety net. Kayce’s home. How dare they? “You know how much the Yellowstone is worth? You think I’m gonna be the last person who’s gonna wanna take it?” He tried to yell. “Now your father has two choices. Either to sell it, or to lose it.” Dan looked back at Rip. “And that’s the fucking truth.”
Rip continued looking at the tag-team. “Now you both know. Jimmy, go on and cut him down.”
“Fuck you guys! Fuck you! Fucking idiots.” Dan gasped at them.
Stella spun around. She touched Kayce’s chest, grabbing his focus. Everyone watched them have a nonverbal conversation. There was some form of acceptance happening. A change in alignment. Rip felt something shift as it clicked into place in the atmosphere. Stella shook in anger. There was an almost imperceptible nod from Stella to the youngest Dutton.
Kayce looked down, taking off his hat. He walked behind the horse. He hollered. “Yah!” He smacked the horse’s rump. It neighed loudly and took off. Dan was left hanging. His legs flopped around and he struggled to grasp the rope around his neck.
Dan struggled and everyone was forced to watch. Lloyd stopped Jimmy from cutting him down, knowing that the duo needed to make a point. Kayce put an arm around Stella’s lower back to guide her back in front of everyone. They turned to take one last look at Dan. Kayce started to walk away.
Stella glanced at everyone and locked on to Rip. “Let. Him. Hang.” Rip’s eyes widened, stunned by her brutality.
Stella clenched her jaw and started to trail after Kayce. He yelled behind him for her. “Stella, come on! Now!”
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crazyk-imagine · 2 years
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The Lunch Incident
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Pairing: (Future Stepdad) Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Mom!Reader
Characters: (Future Stepdad) Jake “Hangman” Seresin, Mom!Reader, Evelyn the front desk lady
Briefly mentioned: Maryanne and Edwin (the kiddos), Cody (the bartender) 
Warnings: Evelyn giving Jake the hardest time, Jake trying to be a good dad, Jake being the sweet and not so appropriate boyfriend  
Word Count: 1,137
A/N: This takes place a week after Jake moves in with his family
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“What do you mean I can’t drop off their lunch?” Jake asks the front desk lady, Evelyn. 
She sighs, “as I’ve old you before, I cannot allow you to drop off their lunch-” 
“I’m not some crazy man who’s trying to poison those two. I’m just trying to drop off Maryanne and Edwin’s lunch. They left it on the counter because we were in a rush to get out of the house this morning, and I don’t want them to come home hungry. Lord, knows those two can eat and I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to make another trip to grocery store.” 
“As much as I would like to, I’m telling you I still can’t allow you to drop off “their” food.” 
“Don’t say it like that.” 
“Sir-” 
“Jake.” 
“Jake,” Evelyn says, straining his name. “I cannot allow you to drop off the lunch without the mother’s permission-” 
“Don’t call her. You don’t need to call her.” He chuckles, “come on. Evie-” 
“Evelyn and I don’t like that tone you’re using with me young man.” 
“Fine. I’m sorry, just please don’t call her. She has enough on her plate and something as minor as this isn’t worth the hassle of calling her, right?” 
Neither of the two say anything. The woman stretches her arm off to the side, reaching for the phone, “I’m calling.” 
“But you don’t need to.” He can hear buttons being pushed and drops his head onto his arms. “Okay,” his head snaps up, “what if I leave the lunches here and then you tell them their mom dropped ‘em off and we call it a day?” 
Evelyn shakes her head, walking out of Jake’s sight. 
-
“Hello?” She calls you by the nickname she calls you by that’s only meant for you (her favorite out of the all the parents even though she shouldn’t). 
“Evelyn? Why are you calling? What’s wrong? Which one of them is in the front office?” 
“Neither there’s a young man here claiming to drop off Mary and Eddie’s lunch,” she adds with a smile. 
You let out a sigh of relief, “oh thank goodness. That’s just Jake.” 
“Are we sure we’re talking about the same person?” 
“Blond, cocky, attitude-y?” 
“Yes, to the first and last one, not so much that last one. He’s just keeps begging me to let him drop off the lunches.” 
“I told him I’d do it.” 
“And he said he didn’t want me to call so there wouldn’t be as much on your plate.” 
You sigh, “let him drop off the lunches and stop giving a hard time.” 
“He should know the rules and regulations we have here.” 
“Which is why I said I would take care of this. Take a note for next time, if I can’t drop off their lunches, he will.” 
“You got it.” 
“Thank you.” 
“If he tries to persuade me more, I won’t make it easy on him.” 
You snort through your nose, “I don’t doubt it.” 
“You seriously don’t have to call her. I’m all good. We’re all set.” 
“Do you hear that?” 
“I give my permission for him to drop off the lunches. Seriously, let him go. He has to go to work, Eve.” You try to say with a straight face but wind up chuckling a bit knowing how this story is going to be told to you later. 
“Alright, you be safe now.” 
“You too, bye.” She hangs up the phone and walks back to Jake. 
-
“Did we get the okay?” 
“How do I know you’re really who you say you are?” 
“Oh,” he drops his head, closing his eyes. His mama always taught to be polite, use his manners, treat a woman right, and never take your anger out on anyone; it doesn’t matter who they are or who they were, you always keep calm. These words swirl around his head. He sighs out a deep breath and raises his head, leaning off the counter. “Ma'am?” 
“Yes?” 
“I know you care about Maryanne and Edwin, more so than you should, and I also know that you got the okay for me to drop off their lunches, even though I did say you didn’t have to call her.” 
She doesn’t respond and continues to stare at him. 
“Anyway, I’m going to leave these here so you can make sure they can eat and come home with full, if not, almost full bellies. Till next time, ma’am.” And he walks away. 
-
He sits in his car for a few minutes before pulling out his phone to text you. 
My (Hungman) Man 
I’m gonna need a note if you want me to do lunch duty 11:47am Sent Read 
Future Mrs. Seresin 
First off, I didn’t ask you too and second thank you  11:49am Sent Read 
My (Hungman) Man 
I don’t want to do lunch duty again 11:50am Sent Read  
Future Mrs. Seresin 
Okay 11:50am Sent Read  
My (Hungman) Man 
I’m doing it again 11:53am Sent Read  
Future Mrs. Seresin 
Okay 11:53am Sent Read  
My (Hungman) Man 
I don’t want to hear about this later 11:54am Sent Read 
Future Mrs. Seresin 
We don’t have to talk about it anymore 11:59am Sent Read 
Future Mrs. Seresin typing… 
Thank you for doing it though 
My (Hungman) Man Face Time Answer □ Decline □ 
“Hey, Jake.” 
“Hey back to you, sweetheart.” 
You shake your head, stepping into the back room of the bar. “How you doin’ after your little “lunch” adventure?” 
“Don’t even get me started. I just- that lady had nerve enough to call you when I had the entire situation under control.” 
You snort, trying not to burst out laughing, not wanting him to feel even worse than he did before. “You told her not to call me, you had to know that wasn’t going to work for you darlin’.” 
“Yeah, obviously because that simple task turned into something worse.” 
“Like what?”
“A waste of a solid half hour that I could have used to kick Chicken’s ass and beat Maverick, so I don’t have to do his paperwork anymore.” 
You pout, “aw, poor baby.” 
“Hey, hey,” he shakes his head, “don’t be like that. Don’t do that to me, I had a hard afternoon.” 
“Yes, you did.” 
“You’re giving me fake sympathy and I’m not appreciating it so I’m gonna tell you the whole story.” 
You nod. 
Cody enters, whispering in your ear, letting you know it’s to come back outside. 
You smile, whispering, “okay, I’ll be there in a second.” 
He leaves the room, letting you finish your conversation with your boyfriend. 
Jake doesn’t stop so you put your phone in your back pocket, letting him talk until he finally realizes what’s going on. 
He smiles and shakes his head, pressing the end call button. 
My (Hungman) Man 
Thanks for the view. I needed it 12:19pm Sent Read 
-
Taglist: @abaker74​ @ebonyhogan24 @shanimallina87 @starkleila​ @kurtkunkle17
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strayzband · 6 months
Text
The camera focuses outside, showing a mess of trees and dark skies. In the center stands Murdoc Niccals, with his hair over his face, wearing a suit that looks rather like it lost a fight. He’s got a huge grin on his face, and his hands in his trouser pockets.
‘Bout time you interviewed me.
It’s a pleasure. But…
I falter.
Was the blindfold necessary?
Murdoc’s face drops, and he rolls his eyes.
Boss’s orders. Can’t let anyone find out where the studio is. Not even the press.
Why not?
Fuck if I know.
He huffs and plays with his hair.
Mind asking a real question, love?
I nod and start leafing through my notes.
So, what’s your relationship with the other members like? There’s got to be a lot of interesting drama there.
Murdoc began to glare at me. He hesitated for a few moments before speaking.
Hate em all. Next?
I just have to know – what made you decide to join this band?
Murdoc preens.
Great question. I’ve had my fair share of experience in the ol’ biz – that means business, by the way – but I never really got into it properly, yeah?
He grabs the lapels of his jacket and tugs on them.
Poor Noodle ‘ere needed someone to help her out, and I thought, hey, I could do it! So I offered, and here we are. I’ve basically been running this thing ever since…
A shoe flies across the screen and hits Murdoc in the side of the head. He throws it back, and smiles at me like nothing happened.
She’s feisty.
I think back to my interview with Noodle.
Right, I noticed.
He winks at me. Or maybe just blinks? It’s hard to tell, with all the hair.
C’mon, next question. I don’t have all day, you know…
The camera nods up and down.
I was wondering, if you had the choice, how would you want to be remembered?
Murdoc gives a huge grin. As I expected — I picked one that I knew he would enjoy. He pushes his hair back.
Well, y’know how… well, every band has that one bloke who’s really remembered? Like Queen. Name all the members of Queen.
I hesitate for a moment as I try to think.
There’s Freddie Mercury, and, uhm…
He barks out a laugh.
Exactly! I intend to be the next Freddie Mercury. Shouldn’t be too hard, yeah? Blimey, I’m already the most important one here, ain’t I? Got us signed. ‘N God knows the birds love a bassist.
He laughs so hard that I briefly consider offering him some water.
What would you consider to be your biggest achievement?
He finally stops laughing. That’s good - it sounded like there was something stuck in his throat.
Hmm. Well, there’s a lot to choose from…
He trails off, then starts speaking again so soon that I’m not sure he had time to think at all.
If I absolutely had to pick one, I’d have to say my work on this album. Some of my best yet, yeah? Can’t wait for you all to see that one.
Speaking of the upcoming album, is there anything you can tell us about it?
Murdoc leans back.
Well, the boss wouldn’t want me to say much - can’t help that much, can I?
He leans in again, conspiratorially.
But a little birdie told me that there’s gonna be some big names on it with us.
With a cheeky grin, he gets away from the camera again.
Any more questions?
This is the hard one. I clear my throat.
If you don’t mind – my readers have been asking this non-stop…
I trail off, a little nervous about asking a question I know he won't like. But I have to at least try to find out! I know you all desperately want to know, after all.
Murdoc raises an eyebrow.
Spit it out.
There’s been a lot of rumours going around about you and Stuart. Would you mind letting my readers know if any of it is true?
Murdoc freezes up and grimaces. He pulls himself together, then straightens his hair down.
No. It isn’t.
I’m not certain if I should do what I do next. But I’ve got to keep going, for the sake of a scoop. After all, my readers are depending on me.
It’s just that… some reports have been going around. March 19th, 2005. Sound familiar?
Murdoc growls at me. Then he looks in the other direction. The camera follows his gaze, to see Russel, Noodle, and Stuart completely ignoring the interview.
Would you look at that? I’ve got to get going!
He starts walking off, seeming in a bit of a hurry.
Thanks so much for the questions, love, hope the article goes well! I’ll be off now!
He runs off screen, and the camera turns off.
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specialagentlokitty · 2 years
Text
Klaus x reader - fight for you
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I still don't know either of those characters BUT you do real good work w/ em so here are some angst/fluff prompts! Use them for whichever character. The prompts (I'm thinking abt an angsty kidnap/rescue): “I'll find her if I have to burn this town to the ground to do it." "There's no way you're making it out alive now." (to the kidnapper, I'm a sucker for protective fictional men) "Why do you care?" "Because you don't." (I'm thinking directed at the Squad for not caring about reader as much as they would Elena) (reader being tough, had almost rescued themselves) "I had it handled." "Tell that to the stitches." (Caring for wounds, also makes me melt) "Nobody's gonna get to you again. Not without getting past me." Obviously, exact wording can change for the character's voice, and you're welcome to use as many or as few of these as spark joy, or save unused ones for another thingy. I know this became kinda a lot. Have fun with it! - Anon💜
You had been gone for what felt like years.
Had it been days? Weeks?
You had no idea, held in the tiny room you had lost all perception of time. All you remembered was leaving the Elena’s, and waking up in this small cramped room.
At least they were kind enough to let you walk around it.
There was things everywhere, pipes, bricks. It was almost as if you were in a building that was supposed to be getting taken down, or done up.
Sighing, you rested your back against the wall at looked to the ceiling.
“Food.”
The door was opened, some stale bread thrown in and it was slammed shut again before you could even make a move.
Grabbing the stale bread, you looked at it and tossed it to the side, you weren’t eating that, who knows what was on this floor.
“Come on guys…” you whispered.
You wondered when they were going to save you. But you saw the video, they just ignored the letter and tossed it aside.
Did they even know?
Then another thought ran through your head.
Did Klaus know?
You and him had a strange relationship, he was always kind and caring towards you. But around the others he held it back, though he never once hurt you.
You had met him before it came out who he was, and you had been friends with him for a few months before that, it was hard to throw away a friendship straight away, and it was even harder since you grew feelings for him.
You should’ve told him when you had the chance.
At the ball, the group were plotting on what to do with Klaus when the hybrid came walking over.
His eyes scanned the group before the furrowed slightly.
“You’re missing one.” He said.
“What’s it to you?” Damon snapped.
Klaus smirked a little, leaning against the wall next to him.
“Oh nothing really, I’m just surprised she isn’t with you.”
Bonnie turned to the others.
“He’s got a point, I haven’t seen (Y/N) for a few days. Have you guys?”
One by one they shook their heads.
“You know what she’s like.” Caroline smiled.
“Yeah, but missing out on the ball she helped plan, that’s not like her.” Jeremy noted.
Klaus frowned even more as he listened to them all talk and anger welled you inside of him.
“You lost her?” He growled lowly.
“She’s got nothing to do with you, you probably took her!” Stefan snapped.
Klaus quickly appeared before Stefan, pinning him to the wall, fangs bared at the other vampire.
“Shut your mouth, before I shut it for you.” He sneered.
With that, he dropped Stefan and started to storm away.
For the rest of the night they didn’t see Klaus, not until they were leaving and they saw him talking to the sheriff and the mayor.
“You didn’t think to mention that (Y/N)s missing?” Forbes whisper yelled at them.
“We didn’t know mom!” Caroline whisper yelled back.
“Well thankfully, Klaus has agreed to help us find her.” The mayor smiled.
Everyone turned to Klaus with a mixture of suspicion and confusion.
“What’re your going to do?” Damon scoffed, “find her then kidnap her yourself?”
Klaus turned around, walking over he stood a few inches away from the cocky vampire, tilting his head backwards a little as he stared at them all.
“I'll find her, even if I have to burn this town to the ground to do it." He whispered.
With that, he left and they made it their mission to find you before klaus had the chance too. God knows what he’d do when he found you.
You were dragged from your small room and tossed into the middle of a larger room where a small group of vampires stood around you.
They smirked and looked between one another.
“This is her?”
“The one he placed a protection order on.” Another nodded.
You waited a few moments and while they were talking you looked around, spotting a broken chair close by, you carefully crawled over to it.
Grabbing the leg, you were quickly spun around and you shoved it through his chest.
“Screw you…” you whispered.
You were picked up and punched in the face, blood dripping down your nose, and you were thrown to the side.
More wounds opened up as you rolled over the broken glass and wood.
“You’ll pay for that bitch.” A man snarled.
He stormed over and grabbed you by the neck, holding you up.
You looked at him, making sure to stare directly into his eyes.
Before he could do anything you heard something get kicked down.
“Put her down!” A voice roared.
You recognised that voice, you’d know it anywhere. He had a distinctive accent.
“You’ll have to kill me before I kill her.” The man smirked.
Before he could even do anything, a hand was through his chest, and his heart was ripped out.
His grip laced and you crumpled to the floor.
Pushing yourself up, you looked at Klaus as he dropped the heart to the floor.
His eyes connected with yours.
He was furious, but while he looked at you his gaze was soft and caring.
Slowly, he turned around, stripping his jacket off, he dropped it over you and started to stalk forward.
“There's no way you're making it out alive now." He smirked.
He was quick to take on the vampires, and while he did you heard others creep in.
Turning your head to the entrance, you saw them all running over, Caroline, Bonnie, Damon and Stefan took on the vampires that charged them while the others ran around.
“(Y/N)!” Elena called.
“Are you okay?” Jeremy asked.
Before they could even get close to you Klaus was crouched behind you.
You could see his knees on either side of you, and you felt him adjust his jacket on your shoulders, doing the button up so it would stay in place.
“Get away from her.” Alaric warned.
“Or what? You wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”
Klaus placed a hand on your shoulder and you looked back at him before turning back to the others.
“Klaus let her go or I’ll kill you myself.” Caroline snarled.
“How about this? We’ll just see who she chooses, Hm?”
Klaus got, he walked in front of you, holding his hand out while he stared at the others, a smirk on his lips.
Then he turned to you and it melted away it a small smile.
“Stand up love.”
You placed your hand in his and let him pull you up and steady you.
When you were okay on your feet, he let go and walked behind you.
“(Y/N) let’s go.” Alaric said.
You were torn.
Did you go with your friends, or did you go with Klaus. The man who actually saved you?
You didn’t know what to do.
“That’s it.” Damon snapped.
He started to storm over but before he could even lay a hand on you, Klaus was in front of you once more.
He gripped Damon’s wrist and with ease he tossed the vampire to the side.
“Why do you care?" Bonnie asked.
Klaus looked at them, gestured to the dead vampires then to your injured form.
“Because you don't." He replied.
With that, he turned to you.
“Love, who do you wish to go with?”
You looked at your friends before looking at him.
He was right, they didn’t care. You knew the vampires sent a note to them when they took you, because they showed you a video of them delivering it.
Slowly, you limped over to the hybrid, and you lightly gripped the back of his top, turning to the others.
“Just go.” You whispered.
“You can’t be serious? Klaus? Really?” Stefan asked.
“He saved me, you guys didn’t. I was about to die and he was there, you weren’t. You only came after he dealt with them. So go.”
“You heard it yourself.” Klaus said.
Facing you, he quickly picked you up, and you groaned in pain at the sudden movement.
“Let’s get you home then.”
Klaus breezed past them, a cocky smirk on his face and put you in his car before driving you back to your apartment.
Again, he picked you up and carried you up the stairs, standing in front of the door.
“A little help love?” He asked.
You rolled your eyes.
“Right, come in.”
He waltzed in, sitting you on the edge of your bed before holding a finger up to you.
He bit his wrist and held it out.
“No, no blood.”
“Why?”
“I want to heal naturally. Without the help of vampire blood.”
He sped away and returned with what looked to be things from the hospital.
“Did you rob a hospital?”
“I merely borrowed from the hospital love.”
“Jesus Christ…” you mumbled.
“Not quite.” He smirked.
Rolling your eyes, you took his jacket off and set it to the side, letting him clean the blood from your skin before he started fixing you up.
"I had it handled."
You watched Klaus carefully stitch up the cut on your arm before he started to clean your face.
“Tell that to the stitches."
You laughed softly, and he smiled.
He held your face with one hand, and stitched your cheek with his other hand before he put everything aside.
He looked you up and down, frowning at the sight of your bruised body.
Kneeling, he took your hand in his and pressed a tender kiss to your knuckles.
“Nobody's gonna get to you again. Not without getting past me." He mumbled.
You smiled, reaching your, you ran your fingers through his hair before you rested your hand on the side of his neck.
“You’re the one who put the no harm order out?”
“Of course I was love, you’re much to important for me to loose.”
Sliding from the bed, you let your knees hit the floor as you took his face between his hands.
“I love you Klaus.”
With that, you leant forward and gently kissed him.
And he eagerly kissed back, everything you had both been hiding spilling out in that one kiss
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boyinafandom · 6 months
Text
OOOKKK SO I wrote this originally on ✨wattpad✨ and it got like 2k reads? But I deleted it (because I’m an ungrateful brat that doesn’t deserve love or whatever) but anyway here’s some story notes before we start
(Also my dumb ass accidentally posted this when it was unfinished and then had to delete it and start all over so…😔😔)
•y/n is a 25 y/o MALE because we need more male y/n content
•ej,jeff and Toby have a a brother like relationship, Jeff’s the oldest and ej and Toby are around the same age so you can decide for yourself who YOU think is older MMMKAYYY (i say as I bat my pretty little eyelashes at you)
•TW hint at y/n having a past sh problem
•this story is one of those biker sand pit show thingys (i don’t know what there called) but anyway short summary, ej and Toby work there part time (and so does Kate but that’s a minor thing) they find y/n they tell them to leave, they don’t so they tell y/n to get in the cage and if they don’t cry they can stay, and Toby ruffs em up or whatever blah blah blah *blows raspberry*
•also ej and y/n are lowkey in a relationship/Situationship and he gets mad jealous when Toby so much as talks to you, so be ready shawty 😈
______GAY PEOPLE<3______
A story by Me…LN :3
(THATS NOT THE NAME OF THE STORY I SWEAR😭😭😭)
“You’re not going,Y/N. It’s not safe.”
-Jeff a total of 5 hours ago when him and the pastas that could conceal there identities said they were going to a “cool motor party” or somthin I don’t know I heard party and saw my change to finally get out of the house. So I took it and snuck away when Jeff wasn’t paying attention and now I’m at this big ass party- more like event. Jesus have you seen this place???
I roll my eyes at the thought, and take a look around, the first thing I see is Kate selling drinks,and I knew it was Kate because Of that jacket she always wears, with a motorcycle cycle helmet on, I guess the employees have to wear them? I don't fuckin no, so I walk over to the stand, the top of the gazebo is blue, probably one of those cheap ones from Walmart or some shit, anyway | greet her, she recognizes me and hands me a red solo cup of [insert what you want to drink here lolz] and I wave bye and walk off.
I stop at the gate, the motorists are practicing before the show, so everyone here has a chance to roam and stuff, and y' know, get robbed or something, anyway I'm completely focused on these men, just wandering about,engines blare, sand is getting thrown from the weals.
And then I feel it, hands,No knuckles, rubbing up and down my back, I whip around, about to slap the bee-Jesus (ya like jazz 🐝??) out of the person who had the nerve to touch me…and then I paused.
“Oh…hey Jack.”
He had a helmet on, to hide his..demonic..appearance but I knew it was him, from his gloves, he wore them so no one would see his claws
“Hello love, I thought you weren’t aloud to be out here?”
“Because Jeff told me it was “dangerous”? He literally uses me as a “get out of ass beating free” card every time we’re on a mission together, I don’t value a single thing he says.”
He places his hands on my hips, lightly pulling me in
“Well, it’s good to see you.”
He smiles. God why do I fall for the dorks..?
“It’s good to see you to.”
Then Toby comes up behind him, rolling his deep, dark umber eyes (yes I did google “different types of brown” for this,SHUT-)
“Jesus could you be any more gay???? Like seri-seriously. This is just sad.”
He says with a stutter
“Kind of hard to be a dick when you have a chronic stutter problem gay boy”
(GOD I FUCKINH LOVE COLOR CODING.)
He rolles his eyes, his face mask slipping lightly off his nose,so he moves it back up, then his phone rings,he huffs and pulls it out of his pocket and picks it up.
“WHAT.?”
Me and Jack look at each-other
“Jesus fuck Ben are you serious??? You had one job. One fucking job.”
He looks pissed, he wasn’t usually this easy to aggravate.Maybe his bipolar is acting up?I think he might’ve been out of those meds.
“You.”
Toby points at me.
“What.”
“You’re getting in the cage.”
“No the actual fuck he is not.”
Jack says, I can feel his grip on my waist tightening
“Fuck off Toby.”
“No. There not even supposed to be here. You heard Jeff.”
Jack let’s go of my waist, getting in Toby’s face
“Oh yea? And you’re gonna do what. Make them??”
“No. But how about this? They get in the cage, and if they make it out without pissing there pants they can stay. Ok!?”
Jack turns to look at me
“Sure I guess”
I say with a shrug
_____________________________________-_~____
As I get into the cage I feel Toby eyeing me from afar
“Ok so all you have to do is keep your arms up or close to your body, and if me or Toby hands you anything keep it close to your body ok?”
I nod
“Ok great, the show will start soon, so just be ready.”
Then he walks out of the cage and after a few minutes I hear engines blaring, people cheering, so I throw my arms up and wait, the black tank top I was wearing lightly rising up, and in a moment there was a man in the cage with me,the visor on the helmet lifted so I could tell who it was,it was Jack, I’m surprised he could operate a motorcycle with such lack of vision.
He did rings around the cage, as he went his hands layed on my chest, shoulders, waist and back, he loved to touch me, that was evident, his favorite activity when we were alone together was to trace my scars, getting visibly upset when I told him there was more then the ones on my arms, he hated the idea that I wanted to hurt myself, and that I used to.
After about 5 minutes of spinning he exits the cage, it goes silent for a minute, and it stays silent..and it stays silent.. I want to turn around, to see why it was so silent, and then the noise started back up again, thankfully, and Toby entered the cage.
He however was not as fun to be around as Jack, he was going insanely fast around the cage. Batting at me with his nails, leaving red marks and lashes all over my upper body, one on my face to, this went on for what felt like hours.
_________________<—>_______________________
Yet another unsatisfying ending from me :3
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g0ttal0ve101 · 6 months
Text
To Catch a Predator
Note: I HAD TO DO IT TO THEM. also like. this takes place a little before lucian was into killing predators ok? ok. tw: mentions of sa, violence, and overall disturbing topics.
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DING-DONG.
DING-DONG.
The doorbell reverberated throughout the home’s interior. Outside on the porch was a forty three year old man by the name of Richard Walten, a father of two and a construction worker for Woodlyn City. Today he was not here to meet with a citizen in need of his labor - Even if that’s what he told his wife and children before walking out the door. He was there to meet a twelve year old girl.
Rich found her on a dating app. With long blonde hair and sweet doe eyes, she posed in her pictures innocently enough. That’s not what our guest was really looking at though. His eyes were directed on her nice ass, her big tits, and her tiny waist. When talking to her in a chat room, he could only imagine what she was like in bed. It was a shameful thought for a man his age to be having, but an even worse idea whenever he took into consideration that she was an innocent virgin. And yet, he still listed the sex acts he would like to preform on her in great detail.
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Now he stood at the doorway of what he believed to be a twelve year old’s house. He knew her parents would be gone all night, he knew she would be helpless, and he knew that she was up for having sex with him if he pushed hard enough. The thought of that drove him crazy. He couldn’t wait to get inside and finally meet her.
The door creaked opened. Rich blankly stared into the dark entry way before seeing the figure of who he thought to be Tia waiting for him. She coaxed him inside and rushed down the hall, presumably a bit nervous to get too close yet. That was fine. He wouldn’t push anything she didn’t feel comfortable with.
“Come on in, Rich! I made some cookies!”
She was real. With a racing heart and a throbbing hard on, the old man wandered behind her without much thought. He didn’t think of his wife or children while sitting down at the dining room table, watching as the blonde scurried away from him and onto the other side of the table. Her ass looked bigger than they were in the photos. Even hotter.
“How was the drive?” Tia cooed with a warm grin, her voice as delicate as a little butterfly.
Picking at his nails and trying to relax, he leaned back into the chair with a long sigh. “It was fine! I mean, just fine.”
She giggled and paused for a moment, presumably calculating the next topic she wanted to speak on. “Haha, it’s so nice to see you! Sorry, I’m just a little nervous right now.”
“Can I get a hug?” He proposed, his voice laced with poisonous intoxication. She let out another ring of anxious laughter.
“Well, let’s just wait a little longer before that…”
“Just a hug?”
“Haha, I’m just nervous, I don’t know! I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s alright.” He consoled her, lifting the box of alcohol he had on his lap onto the countertop for her eyes to wander. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do.”
Tia avoided his eyes. She seemed almost sad in those few moments. “So, what kinda alcohol is this?” She changed the subject quickly, as if not to think about it too much. Rich was getting the impression she was having second thoughts.
“Hard lemonade since you said you haven’t drank much before. It’s a nice one to ease into.”
Tucking her blonde hair behind her ear, she ran her fingers across the label. “Really? Cool. I knew I could count on you. Oh! But what about protection? You brought some, right?”
Rich chuckled under his breath. “Yep. I wouldn’t do anything without one.”
That seemed to be the trigger to relax her tense muscles. Moving away from the other side of the table, she practically marched over to his seat. His heart raced. He had a feeling he knew where she was going with this already.
“Okay, we can hug now. I’m not nervous anymore.”
It was almost too good to be true. Wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in for a tight embrace, he smiled sickeningly. He could feel her breasts against his figure, her small frame pressed against his-
Pain. An overwhelming amount of pain suddenly coursed through his stomach as he hurriedly backed away and fell to the floor. Blood sprayed out of the gaps of his fingers, some pouring from his lips as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Tia was holding a knife. A knife in which had plummeted into his belly moments before.
“Thought you said you had protection, bitch!” Tia bursted into hoarse hysterical laughter, twirling the blade between her fingers. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”
████████████████████
DING-DONG.
DING-DONG.
The doorbell reverberated throughout the home’s interior. Outside on the porch was a fifty seven year old man by the name of Tony Lance, a cashier in one of Woodlyn City’s local grocery stores. Today he was not going to visit his mother in the hospital like he told his wife; he was instead prepared to meet a twelve year old boy he spoke to on the internet.
Wandering around dating sites desperate to speak to a young man and release all of his pent-up sexual desires, he came across the perfect profile. A boy, clearly much younger than eighteen, had posted a variety of pictures on his page and invited people to message him. By the time he had scrolled through all of his photos, Tony had already masturbated twice. He mustered up the courage to speak with him without even reading his profile’s bio.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
That’s right. He had lied in the chat room and told the boy that he was thirty seven. In reality, he was fifty seven. That simple lie was simply a deterrent to justify himself in the end, trying to seem closer in age with the kid. Disgusting, but that was neither here nor there. What mattered now was that he was standing on the front porch, eager to go inside and see if he could really score with an inexperienced virgin boy.
The door creaked open. Tony forced his way inside the doorway without hesitation, wanting to see the boy before he made the final decision on whether or not to follow through with his plans. When he saw the figure of a young boy with a stunned expression spread across his face, he couldn’t help but grin. He was real.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Tony sneered, practically shaking from excitement whenever staring into those big blue eyes. He remembered them from the webpage.
Backing away instinctively, the boy giggled nervously. “It’s okay! Come on in!”
Before he could tell him to wait, the boy had already scurried down the hall and into what Tony believed to be the kitchen. He sighed impatiently. Even just a simple hug would have done great wonders for him - He could’ve felt just how tiny that slutty waist of his was.
Standing by the dining room table nervously, the elderly man awaited for his young date to converse with him. His hands trembled as he reached into his pockets, pulling out the keys and wallet he had lodged in there. Deeper within, he brought a few condoms to last the whole night.
“How’s your day been?”
“What’s that?” Tony questioned, his hearing fading from old age.
Repeating himself with a giggle, the boy called to him again. “How’s your day been, mister?”
“Good, how about you?”
“Good! Um…so…what do you wanna do?”
Tony smirked a little from the question. “Well, I thought we could smoke a little pot first.”
That’s right. Tony promised the boy that he would bring marijuana for them to smoke before they had sex. Not because he wanted him to have fun - he didn’t care either way - but because he wanted the boy to be too high to tell him no. If that were the case, he would be able to do anything he wanted to him, including some sex acts that were almost unthinkable.
Shaking the thought from the front of his mind, the man chuckled to himself. “Yeah…you wanna smoke it now?”
“Uh, sure! I-I just…um…”
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m nervous, is all. Did you bring any condoms?”
“Come on over here and I’ll show you what I brought.” His voice was disgustingly sweet as he stood from his seat, almost seeming like he was going to lunge toward him.
The sound of a metal bat launching into his skull was the last thing he heard before falling unconscious.
████████████████████
The sound of whimpering and crying echoed throughout the dark basement. With a pounding head and blurry vision, Tony peeled open his eyes to examine his surroundings. It was cold, musty, and damp as he laid on the floor like this, tied by the ankle to a pole in the middle of the room. Once his vision evened out, he could see a bright light coming from an incinerator, a table filled with weapons, and the figure of a man sprawled out on the floor. Upon taking a closer look, Tony realized that the man had no face. He let out a shriek of terror and crawled as far as he could away from him.
“HOLY SHIT!” He screamed, yanking on the chains that restrained him. It was no use. The steel cuff around his ankle was in no position to even wiggle around, let alone break free. It felt like all the blood circulation was cutting off by the second.
His heart pounded out of his chest as a bright light suddenly blinded him from up the stairwell, two silhouettes standing at the top. He could hear them exchanging conversation as they came down the stairs, their words muffled and slurring together horrendously. His hearing must have gotten worse from the impact against his head.
“What’s going on? Wh-Who are you?!”
With a sick burst of laughter, the taller figure launched another fist into his jaw. He fell backward and began coughing up his own saliva, a tooth now completely detached from his gums. He spit it out onto the floor with a sob.
“Listen, I wasn’t h-here to do anything! I just wanted to help him!” Tony squealed like a sweaty pig on the chopping block for dinner that evening. The two figures simply stared at him with sick grins on their faces. Only then did he realize that the shorter one was the boy he spoke to online - Perhaps the young woman beside him was related somehow? Either way, he had to think of some excuse to get out of this mess. “A-Are you his older sister? You must be, right?”
Grabbing what was left of his gray oily hair, Mia lifted his skull upward with a horrific grin spread across her pretty face. “Something like that. What about you? Why’re you here?”
Tony stammered over his words. Every time he failed to produce an excuse, Mia launched the heel of her combat boot into his chest. It was only then that he noticed they had spikes on them.
“I-I wanted to help him! I know how hard it i-is to be gay that young and…and I wanted to guide him through it!” He blubbered like a newborn. Although, it didn’t seem to do much to change his circumstances. Both of the teens stared down at him with so much disgust that he felt degraded.
“By making him suck your cock? Seriously? He said he was twelve.”
“No, he didn’t! He said he was seventeen!”
That lie earned him a stomp right on the cock he praised so much about. He let out a wail of utter pain before she continued her interrogation. “Here, he’ll read the chat logs right now, dumbass. And if he says anything other than seventeen, I’m gonna tear your insides out.”
Lucian’s eyes widened. He stared down at the device trembling in his hands and swallowed against the limp in his throat, almost feeling guilty for restating the horrible words spread on the screen. It wasn’t until Mia turned to him with a frown that he suddenly felt a surge of energy circulate through his voice box.
“You can read it now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lucian stammered and scrolled to the part of the conversation where he gave his age to the predator. “You asked if I wanted to pleasure you…to kiss and cuddle you. I told you I was twelve immediately after. Then, you go onto saying I looked eighteen and you were thirty seve-!”
Interjecting her harsh words into his, Mia grabbed the man’s throat and forced him to lift his head upward so he could face her. “You ain’t thirty seven. You’re pushing sixty. What does he say after that, Lu?”
Lu. Mia called him Lu. With a spiral of emotions rising in his chest, Lucian’s voice wavered as he read out the next messages. “You asked me if I liked oral. I told you I didn’t know what it was and you said…sucking…” His mouth dry as he stared at the word. In order not to disappoint Mia, he tried again. This time, reading the exact message word for word. “…Sucking…cock. You asked ‘are you a virgin?’ When I said yes and that I only kissed a guy before, you asked ‘did it make you hard?’”
“It’s just playful chat!” Tony whined like a baby caught for stealing out of the cookie jar. His hands were painted red from guilt. “I wouldn’t have done anything honestly! I just wanted to see how he would respond…”
Mia spared a glance at Lucian again. Not because she was irritated with his performance like he thought she was, but because she wanted to make sure he was okay. His face was flushed from the heat running through his veins. She didn’t like that. She didn’t like it at all.
“You heard him. He didn’t say seventeen once.”
“Please! Please don’t do this! I-I have money, we can work this o-!”
Her knuckles launched into his face again. Before he could recover from the attack, she put her blade up to bare abdomen and began stroking the tip against his skin. Blood streamed from the shallow cuts she made. God knows how much worse it would be once she actually got serious.
Lucian watched intently with a tiny smile. His lips quivered a bit from speaking of such foul conversation, but he couldn’t help but to feel a bit proud of himself. A few years ago, he wouldn’t have been able to even look at the chat without crying. Now, he was conducting them and bringing these predators to justice with someone he looked up to.
“You ever used a chainsaw, Lu?”
Lucian’s eyes lit up. It was a sudden question but one he was sure to have an answer to. “N-No, ma’am. I mean…I’ve seen one used but…”
Dropping the knife with a small clatter against the pavement, Mia got up from her knees with a mischievous grin resting on her freckled face. Lucian blinked a few times in awe of how pretty she was. Carl was really a lucky guy.
“I’m gonna teach you how to use one today.”
“Really?” Lucian’s heart raced inside his ribcage from the sudden change of plans. Usually she tortured the guys with him watching closely from behind. They never exchanged many words with each other either - Only few rings of laughter and degrading the predator they caught. This opportunity wasn’t something he wanted to pass up.
Marching over to the weaponry table, Mia reached underneath it and pulled out a large bag. Both Tony and Lucian had a feeling they knew what was contained inside it. The man sobbed and screamed for mercy as the white-haired boy traced her every movement like a hawk.
Once the fabric unzipped, she pulled out the weapon by its handle. The blade was sharper than ever. Lucian could hardly look at it without feeling a bit intimidated. It was a huge tool. Seriously huge. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to even lift it up like she wanted him to.
It felt like mere seconds before Mia approached him from behind, leveling the chainsaw into his hands while supporting his back with her own frame. In a sense, Lucian felt more secure that way - But he was still incredibly nervous in case he messed up.
“C’mon. I’ll help you.” She assured him, her head nearly resting on his shoulder whenever she leaned in to do so. He nodded and placed his hands onto the handle, only for her calloused palms to grasp over top of them. That way, she’d still be able to control the movement if it got too out of hand. “Thatta boy. Look how perfect you hold that chainsaw,” she hummed with an adoring smile. He smiled too. She was so cool.
The happiness he once felt left his body as his eyes darted toward the man he would slaughter in the matter of seconds. He couldn’t bear to look him in the face, staring at the cracked stone floor. At least then, he couldn’t see how much it hurt whenever the blade dug its way inside.
Mia took notice of his visions. She understood if he was nervous but at the same time, she didn’t want him to miss out on how awesome it was going to be to murder the fuck out of him. So, in order to ease him up to it, she tried reminding him of what Tony did.
“Twelve years old, huh? Maybe we should take twelve limbs then.” She snickered with a sick sneer on her face.
“LET ME GO!” The man hollered with barely enough breath to fill his lungs. “LET ME GO, PLEASE! I’M SORRY! I’M SO SORRY!” His hand reached Lucian’s legs. He groped his shins while trying to pull himself upward, panting and wheezing. “H-Have mercy…I have a family…”
Lucian’s eyes did not shift from his face. He could remember the expression his stepfather made whenever he begged for his life. Why, he wondered, did they all look the same? If that was the case, maybe Tony wore the same expression Ryan did whenever he was being pleased by a boy like him.
“Shut the fuck up, you disgusting manwhore,” Mia kicked his head to shove him away from Lucian’s legs he was previously groping. “A family? Your first wife divorced you and took the kids after she found all the child porn you had. What the fuck are you talking about?”
Lucian’s eyes widened. How many children had he done this to? How many cried for their mothers and fathers? How many? His throat felt choked as he asked himself these questions. Had he known this man brutally took away the innocence of other children, he would have started the chainsaw a long time ago.
But he was afraid. He was afraid to do it and becoming something far worse than what Tony was.
Mia pushed it again. “C’mon, let’s do it. Let’s make him scream and beg like a little perra.”
“…I…” Lucian couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. His fingers trembled around the chainsaw. “I don’t want to…he said he’s so-sorry…”
There was that innocent sweetheart that everyone took advantage of. It made Mia sick to the stomach to think about how many people had used his naïve natures against him. All they had to do was throw a pity party and give a weak ass apology for Lucian to break down in tears and forgive them. Not this time. She wouldn’t let him get away this time.
“You don’t have to forgive him. You don’t have to forgive any of them.”
Before he could respond to those intoxicating words, the chainsaw reeled on with a loud screech. Blood sprayed onto the ceiling of the basement as Tony let out a wail of horror, staring into Lucian’s eyes as if he were responsible for it all. Lucian tried to pull the blade from his chest, but Mia lurched him forward to hand another blow. The blood fountain grew thick as his insides were shredding all over. His bones, his muscles, his organs - They were torn apart. The screaming stopped after seconds but Mia didn’t release Lucian from her grasp. Instead, she lifted the blade onto Tony’s neck and began to decapitate him.
His head flew off his shoulders with a sickening splat, relieving them of their goal. Mia laughed hoarsely before dropping the weapon to the ground, freeing Lucian from her arms.
“Hahah! You’re a natural!” She praised him, stroking her hand against his fluffy hair. She was taken aback when feeling so soft it was. “How do you feel? That was pretty dope, wasn’t it?”
Silence. Mia began to worry that she had pushed him a bit too far. Then again, even if she did, she couldn’t picture herself apologizing. That man deserved it. If Lucian didn’t want to get dirty, he shouldn’t have offered to help her. And yet, at the same time, she did feel a tad guilty. Maybe she should’ve gotten a better clearance? Maybe she should’ve asked if he was sure?
Before she spiraled too much, she spotted the expression on his face. With a ring of sweet laughter, he wrapped his arms around Mia’s waist and embraced her. “Hahah, that was awesome! We should do that every time! For the next guy, we should cut for even longer!”
Hesitantly, she pushed him in closer by placing her palm to the back of his skull. Strangely enough, she didn’t feel awkward like she usually did whenever receiving a hug from a guy. It was like Lucian was able to override any sort of negative connotation she had towards men in general. Because unlike most boys, Lucian didn’t think like that. When he reached for a hug, he didn’t care about Mia’s gorgeous body - He only cared about her. Maybe that’s why she held him longer and patted his head; Lucian was just her little sidekick, almost like a little brother.
“Yeah, whatever. Just don’t start feeling sorry for them again.”
Releasing her, Lucian giggled to himself a little. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mia flicked him in the forehead, similar to how she scolds Carl for saying something negative about himself. Lucian whined and tried to protect himself, smiling like an idiot.
“My name’s Mia. Not ma’am. You act like I’m bitchy old lady or something.” She sneered. With a playful shove to Lucian’s shoulder, she dragged the corpse into the back room where they kept the rest. “But good job, Lu.”
Lucian blushed a little from the compliment. Receiving such kind words from his idol was like a dream come true. “…Thank you, Mia.”
12 notes · View notes
husbandomail · 1 year
Note
Deuce Spade + "Honey, I'm home"
“—can I stay here tonight?”
It was a common question now, and didn’t startle you quite as much as the first time he’d asked. Deuce was always showing up at your little Ramshackle dorm, his uniform mussed, an unzipped bag thrown over his shoulder because he knew you’d say yes. And you did, every time— you’d let out a very heavy and very fake sigh, but move aside anyways to make room in the narrow hallway for the broad-shouldered boy.
Something seemed… off. The air around him was electric, and Deuce’s handsome face was dark with an emotion that wasn’t familiar on a boy like him. He was quiet as he dropped his bag on the kitchen counter and climbed up onto his favorite stool.
“How’re we supposed to feed three people so last-minute?” Grim yowled up at you from his spot on the floor; you barely glanced at him as you took Deuce’s uniform jacket and hung it on the coat rack.
“We’re not feeding three people, Grim,” you said, “I’m feeding two people and a cat.”
Deuce snorted at that, and relief fluttered in your chest. He wasn’t the type to talk about his feelings, so you weren’t going to pry into whatever had him down, but— if he could laugh at something like that, he would be fine.
One week later, there was a familiar knock at your door. You were sprawled out on the floor of your bedroom, which happened to be right over the rickety porch; popping your head out the open window, you waved at Deuce, who grinned back up at you.
“Can I come in?”
“It’s unlocked!”
You heard the door swing open and then it slammed shut hard enough to shake the frame. Heavy footsteps came crashing up the old stairs; it wasn’t long before Deuce was collapsing on your bedroom floor beside you, textbooks and handwritten notes spilling out of his backpack.
“So for Alchemy,” he started before he’d even kicked his shoes off, “I didn’t understand the end of today’s lecture— can I copy your notes?”
“Copyin’ ‘em won’t help,” you chided as you rolled over, “because I didn’t get it either. I picked up this library book Trey suggested, though—”
Deuce sighed and ran a hand through his hair, only to make a face when he realized he was still wearing his uniform gloves. Strands of deep blue clung to the fabric, static continuing to spike them up like a boy from the manga on your shelves. “Would you believe me if I told you I can’t read?”
“Nice try, Spade.”
It was about another week before your Heartslabyul friend returned to Ramshackle. You were stretched out on the shabby couch that’d been left in the dorm when you arrived; you’d caught some kind of cold, and laying on the thin, hard cushions was doing nothing for the ache in your neck. Grim had dropped a bottle of thick syrupy medicine into your hand that morning, and since you’d taken it, you’d been too dazed to do anything but stare at the ceiling—
“Honey, I’m home.”
Stare at the ceiling and hallucinate Deuce’s voice, apparently.
“—hey, did you hear me?”
You blinked, forcing yourself upright because your body ached too much to twist and glance over your shoulder. Deuce was standing in the doorway, kicking his shoes off as one hand delved into the plastic bag he carried. “Ace said you weren’t feeling well, so I—”
“What did you say before?”
He paused, hesitant to repeat himself. But only for a moment.
“Said honey, I’m home.”
14 notes · View notes
wreywrites · 7 months
Text
Tiger Shark
Part 2: The Sea
Chapter 9
It is cloudy when I wake up. The day is gray, and I wonder how late I have slept. Stitch is already awake, as is Elsie, who I suspect also got to sleep all night, given how long Zalea must have kept watch. I get up and move to their side of the fire so we can talk without disturbing the others.
Stitch quietly catches me up. “I was already awake when Mako went to get Elsie up, so I told him I would take over. She woke up not long after that anyway.”
“Was already gettin’ light,” Elsie says.
“How long ago was that?”
Stitch shrugs, but Elsie says, “Couple hours, probably.”
“The weather isn’t going to mess things up, is it?” I say. I don’t know anything about buffalo or causing stampedes, so I feel this is a valid concern.
Elsie shakes her head. “If the weather was bad I’d be worried, but it’s just cloudy. Shouldn’t be anything to worry about.”
The others wake before long.
“Let me guess,” Zalea says, “Buffalo for breakfast?”
In response, a parachute floats down and lands in my lap. I open the basket and can’t help but smile at the smell of fresh cinnamon rolls. I pull one out and take a bite. They’re even warm. I owe Finnick and my sponsors big time if I get out of here alive. “Looks like it’s your turn to be Finnick’s favorite,” I grin at Mako, holding up the cinnamon roll with one hand and passing the basket to Stitch.
“About time,” Mako snorts.
“How do y’all do that?” Elsie says, taking her roll from the basket. “All we’ve gotten is some tablets for water ’cause our backpacks didn’t have any.”
Zalea snorts. “You’ve seen these two, right? Know their scores, watched their interviews, all that stuff? If I lived in the Capitol I’d sponsor them too. And I wouldn’t be complaining about just getting tablets if I were you-” Zalea takes a roll, “-without water you’re dead already.”
“Besides,” I say, “It’s not like we’re getting spoiled. He literally told us he would send us a little something every day to remember him by. He’s just taking care of the crew.”
“Something to remember him by?” Zalea is back to being her snippy self. “Sounds like Finnick Odair to me. Whose head didn’t you turn?”
I raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that? Last I checked, he’s my mentor and it’s his job to send us stuff.”
“Just that you’ve got Gloss all over you, and Finnick sending you desserts, and sponsors lined up because they’re in love with you, and your boyfriend has to sit here through it all because he had the misfortune of getting reaped with you-”
“Okay,” Merritt cuts her off. “Let’s just appreciate the breakfast ’n’ get on with our day.”
“Please,” Mako says.
“You’re right. The sooner we go, the sooner we get done, the sooner we can split up again,” Zalea snaps.
We finish breakfast in silence. Merritt divides up the rest of the jerky while Elsie buries what’s left of the fire.
Merritt walks us through the details as we dress in our buffalo hides.
“Everyone knows the bird whistle, right? Good. I’ll lead, ’n’ Elsie’ll take tail. We go single file, ’n’ when I whistle like this-” he gives a four-note call, “-the last person stops where they are. Stay low ’n’ wait for the signal. Elsie ’n’ Annie’ll be on the close flank, then Stitch ’n’ Mako in the back, ’n’ me ’n’ Zalea’ll take the far flank. Once we’re all in position, I’ll whistle like this-” he gives two sharp whistles, “-then we go. Lose the ponchos, shout, run at the herd, spook ’em into a stampede, ’n’ keep ’em runnin’ at the cornucopia. They’ll do all the hard work for us.”
Mako hides our one revealed backpack up a tree. None of the others know about the cave, or that this is where we’d made our camp and planned on staying for the foreseeable future, so I simply say, “We’ll come back this way after it’s done.”
No one argues. Stitch says something about forest, which doesn’t eliminate much of the arena, but I think that’s the point, and Zalea says she found a water hole on the other side of the arena.
“We’ve been wanderin’ since the beginning, ’n’ I think we’ll keep doin’ just that.” Merritt glances at Elsie. She nods.
We double-check the area to make sure we haven’t left anything valuable behind, but everyone has picked up their possessions and stowed them in their backpacks, which make the other four look even bulkier than the ponchos alone. Weapons in hand, we follow Merritt through the little tree patch and onto the plain.
~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~
We walk in silence, not wanting to alert anything or anyone to our presence. I’m glad it’s cloudy, because I couldn’t imagine doing this walk in the hot sun wearing a furry poncho. The poncho’s making things uncomfortably warm enough.
I am just starting to wish I had brought one of our water bottles along when we crest a low hill and I see them. The hulking shapes of buffalo, spread in front of us, grazing peacefully. A few of them look up, but they must not perceive us as a threat; they go right back to grazing. Merritt leads us alongside the herd for a while before whistling. The next signal will be for me.
We walk another hundred yards and Merritt whistles again. I stop. Kneeling in the grass, I slowly turn so I am facing the glint of the cornucopia in the distance. I hear Merritt whistle again, this time leaving Stitch. I set my spear down. I can’t take the poncho off while holding it. Merritt whistles and Mako is in place. I lift up the bottom of the poncho as high as I dare without revealing myself. A breeze flutters through the gap, providing some relief from the heat. Another whistle. Zalea is ready. At the next signal, we run. I take a deep breath, let myself sink into the same mindset as I had at the cornucopia when the Games started.
Two sharp whistles cut through the quietly rustling grass. I let out a roar and throw off my poncho, grabbing my spear as I surge to my feet. In front of me, Elsie is whooping and shouting. The buffalo panic. For a horrible second, they run away from Elsie and me, but Merritt and Zalea turn them back and then we are all running.
I feel a surge of adrenaline as we race through the grass. The buffalo are not fast, but they are faster than us, and they are terrified. I can see it in their tossing heads and rolling eyes. We run with them, and there is something joyful about it. For a moment I feel truly free, the way I feel when we take the sailboat out and I climb up the mast and I can see forever. I am laughing and whooping and oddly I want this run to go on forever, to run until my legs just can’t anymore, to-
Something heavy slams into me, knocking me to the side, Dazed, I struggle to regain my balance. The buffalo are drifting to the side, toward Elsie and I, and one of them drifted right into me.
Elsie has noticed this as well. She is running faster now. I sprint after her, watching to see what she does. Then, she veers into the herd. The buffalo next to her throws its huge head and swerves away from her, pushing several others. Just as sharply, Elsie veers safely away from the stampede. After a few seconds, she does it again. I decide to copy her, and slowly, we turn them, just in time for the herd to slam into the cornucopia.
Just like the last time I was here, there is utter chaos. The buffalo tear through piles of supplies. I hear screaming somewhere. The dull clanging of massive, unstoppable creatures slamming into the metal sides of the cornucopia seems to come from everywhere at once. I hear the cannon sound once, then a second time. Someone is shouting. An arrow whistles by my cheek.
“Run! Run!” Zalea is shouting.
Someone grabs my arm. I whip around to see Mako pulling me away.
There is another scream.
“Elsie!” Merritt shouts.
I turn back toward the chaos. Most of the buffalo have scattered. Among the wreckage there is not a scrap of salvageable food. There are two bodies on the ground. Elsie joins them, the blade of Jilly’s scythe slicing her throat.
I barely hear the cannon. What I do hear is a wordless raging scream from Merritt. He throws himself at Jilly and we are all transfixed. Jilly is deadly, but Merritt is enraged. He has no fear. The pair exchange a flurry of blows before Merritt gets too close for the long scythe to be effective. He stabs Jilly, up under the ribs, just like Alvan and Cally. She drops. The cannon booms.
And then Merritt sinks to his knees, an arrow in his chest. The four of us who are left scatter. I sprint through the grass, going back the way we came, my only thought is that I can’t lead whoever is left of the Careers back to our camp.
The cannon sounds again. Mako is sprinting beside me. We do not slow down until we have gone up a low hill and down the other side. We are perhaps halfway back to where we started the stampede. Mako collapses into the grass. I drop to my knees beside him, sides heaving. I can only hope no one is chasing us, because there is no fight we could win.
It takes a long time to catch my breath. When I am finally breathing at a semi-normal pace, I creep back up the hill to see if anything is still happening. It is so quiet in the arena, I can almost make out the words that the four surviving members of the Career pack are shouting at each other. Almost, but not quite. I’m too far away to be able to tell who is still alive. I know Tychus is, but beyond him I have no way of knowing. I didn’t pay enough attention to the two bodies that were stampeded to death, I guess. Silly me.
I crawl back down the hill to Mako.
“Any idea?” he says quietly.
I shake my head. “Tychus. At least one girl, probably two, from the shouting, but I couldn’t tell which ones. And I could only see four of them, but who knows.”
He gets to his feet, slowly. “We should get back to the cave. They’ll be out for blood.”
“They got it,” I say hoarsely, “Elsie and Merritt…”
“They knew the risks. It was their plan. But we need to get somewhere safe, in case the pack tries to hunt down the rest of us. They saw us, Annie, they know who was in on it. We need to-”
The cannon stops him short.
We sit in silence for a long time.
~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~
“Let’s go get the ponchos,” I say finally.
Mako nods, and as the sun creeps low toward the horizon, we walk through the trampled grass until we find the first discarded poncho. I trail my fingers through the rough hair, saying a silent goodbye to Elsie. We find my poncho a hundred yards beyond. I put it on. The sun is nearly down and already it is getting cold. We hurry to find Mako’s, then, cold and exhausted, we curl up under them and listen to the anthem play. Then they show the pictures. Andromeda from Two, the boys from Seven and Nine, Jilly, Merritt, and Elsie.
“That was worse than the bloodbath,” Mako says quietly.
I nod. “Do you think they’ll find us if we just sleep here for tonight?”
Mako looks around. There are already a handful of buffalo drifting in. “No. And if they do, we’ll have an early warning system.”
I take the first watch, staying up as long as I can. It doesn’t feel long enough, but I can barely keep my eyes open, so I wake Mako.
I dream that I am being chased by buffalo, but their faces are human. Farroe, Tychus, Andromeda, Jilly, Megary Fallon…
****
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━━ ⟢ ( 𝕃𝔸𝕌ℝ𝔸 𝔸ℕ𝔻 𝕁𝕆ℕ𝔸ℍ ) a playlist
A PLAYLIST BASED ON LAURA AND JONAH'S DYNAMIC
ALMOST (SWEET MUSIC) HOZIER
The same kind of music haunts her bedroom I'm almost me again, she's almost you I wouldn't know where to start Sweet music playin' in the dark Be still, my foolish heart Don't ruin this on me
DON'T LET ME GO CIGARETTES AFTER SEX
Come to me now Don't let me go Stay by my side Don't let me go Stay with me still I've missed you so When I was young, I thought the world of you I was dumb to let you drift away And though I guess it had to come to an end No one else could have the love we shared
SAY YES TO HEAVEN LANA DEL REY
If you dance, I'll dance And if you don't, I'll dance anyway Give peace a chance Let the fear you have fall away I've got my eye on you I've got my eye on you Say yes to Heaven Say yes to me
DO I WANNA KNOW? ARCTIC MONKEYS
Have you got colour in your cheeks? Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift The type that sticks around like summat in your teeth? Are there some aces up your sleeve? Have you no idea that you're in deep? I dreamt about you nearly every night this week
ANOTHER LOVE TOM ODELL
I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care But it's so cold and I don't know where I brought you daffodils in a pretty string But they won't flower like they did last spring And I wanna kiss you, make you feel alright I'm just so tired to share my nights I wanna cry and I wanna love But all my tears have been used up On another love, another love
BUDAPEST GEORGE ERZRA
My acres of a land that I've achieved It may be hard for you to, stop and believe But for you oh, you oh, I'd Leave it all Oh, for you oh, you oh, I'd leave it all Give me one good reason why I should never make a change Baby if you hold me then all of this will go away
THE BAD TOUCH BLOODHOUND GANG
Sweat, baby, sweat, baby sex is a Texas drought Me and you do the kind of stuff that only Prince would sing about So put your hands down my pants and I'll bet you'll feel nuts Yes, I'm Siskel, yes, I'm Ebert And you're getting two thumbs up You've had enough of two-hand touch You want it rough, you're out of bounds
FRANCESCA HOZIER
For all that was said Of where we'd end up at the end of it When the heart would cease Ours never knew peace What good would it be on the far side of things? It was too soon When that part of you was ripped away A grip taking hold Like a cancer that grows Each piece of your body that it takes Though I know my heart would break I'll tell them put me back in it Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah
DELICATE TAYLOR SWIFT
This ain't for the best My reputation's never been worse, so You must like me for me We can't make any promises Now can we, babe? But you can make me a drink Dive bar on the East Side, where you at? Phone lights up my nightstand in the black Come here; you can meet me in the back
FUCK IT I LOVE YOU LANA DEL REY
So I moved to California but it's just a state of mind It turns out everywhere you go, you take yourself, that's not a lie Wish that you would hold me or just say that you were mine It's killing me slowly Dream a little dream of me Make me into something sweet Turn the radio on, dancing to a pop song Fuck it, I love you
PERFECT PLACES LORDE
All of the things we're taking 'Cause we are young and we're ashamed Send us to perfect places All of our heroes fading Now I can't stand to be alone Let's go to perfect places Every night, I live and die Meet somebody, take 'em home Let's kiss and then take off our clothes It's just another graceless night, 'cause
THE KIDS AREN'T ALRIGHT FALL OUT BOYS
I'm not passive but aggressive Take note, it's not impressive Empty your sadness Like you're dumping your purse on my bedroom floor We put your curse in reverse And it's our time now if you want it to be Maul the world like a carnival bear set free And your love is anemic and I can't believe That you couldn't see it coming from me
MASTERMIND TAYLOR SWIFT
What if I told you none of it was accidental? And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me? I laid the groundwork and then, just like clockwork The dominoes cascaded in a line What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine It was all by design 'Cause I'm a mastermind
BARCELONA JÃO
Barcelona Diz que me ama Barcelona Terminei minha vida vazia Solto à obra prima em Santa Maria do Mar Sem amor tão profano De quem conheceu o sublime e voltou à chatice de ser humano
TUYA ROSALIA
Lo que quiero lo tengo Sin perdón y sin permiso Bebé, tú ten cuidao No sé si tú estás listo Es que tengo el talento de hacer que lo que me imagine se dé, yeah Yo de 10 soy un 100, lo haré demasiao bien pa que no se olvide Solo esta noche soy tuya, tuya Solo esta noche eres mía, mía Tú me quieres ver desnúa, uah Yo a ti debajo'e mi ombligo, yeah
I LOVE YOU BILLIE EILISH
Maybe won't you take it back? Say you were tryna make me laugh And nothing has to change today You didn’t mean to say: I love you I love you And I don't want to, ooh Up all night On another red-eye We wish we never learned to fly Maybe we should just try To tell ourselves a good lie Didn't mean to make you cry, I
MY MY MY! TROYE SIVAN
Now, let's stop running from love Running from love Let's stop, my baby (my baby) Let's stop running from us Running from us Let's stop, my baby Oh my, my, my! I die every night with you Oh my, my, my! Living for your every move
COSMIC LOVE FLORENCE AND THE MACHINE
The stars, the moon They have all been blown out You've left me in the dark No dawn, no day I'm always in this twilight In the shadow of your heart And in the dark I can hear your heartbeat I tried to find the sound But then it stopped And I was in the darkness So darkness I became
I WANNA BE YOURS ARCTIC MONKEYS
If you like your coffee hot Let me be your coffee pot You call the shots, babe I just wanna be yours Secrets I have held in my heart Are harder to hide than I thought Maybe I just wanna be yours I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours
PREACH SAINT MOTEL
I wanna know Do you even feed it? Do you even feel it now? And you're not alone So don't be hesitatin' for my lovin' I, I Oh, I'm down on my knees Mercy, whoa, whoa, whoa, baby Preach Mm, teach me, baby Teach us, a-preach it, baby Preach So lovin', do the soul lovin' (Preach it, baby)
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NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM,  BOOK FOUR: THE HUNT - CHAPTER 9
If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …
Boof 4 Chapter 1 is here …
IMPORTANT:  Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.
If you want to support my writing, feel free to swing by my Patreon or Ko-fi.
CHAPTER NINE:  ART
I stop before knocking on the door, my nerves just fail me for a long beat and I have to take a step back, wringing my paws fretfully, before turning back and taking a deep breath, working on summoning the guts to do this after all.  What Kesla’s having to do right now is so much worse, I know it, I told her I would be up for doing this instead of her, and I can’t let her down.  I gotta man up.  So I ball the fist and raise it, only hesitating for a moment before knocking, standing up straight as I wait.
It rakes a few moments for the door to open, but then I’m not really all that surprised.  Tulen’s been right through it over the past night, and she’s likely not had much chance to rest since, despite getting run even more ragged at the Vezrim estate.  I got a look at her when they first brought her in after they all got back, she was barely conscious and bleeding profusely from her nose and eyes and even coughing up odd mouthfuls while Shul tried to hold her up enough to just get her to one o’ the beds.  It didn’t take the two healers who snapped to it to help her more’n ten minutes to get her awake and sat up again, but she looked proper fucking miserable all the same, like she had the mother of all headaches from some kinda vicious backlash.  So they just helped her out the room to join Sessa, who’d been moved into one o’ the recovery rooms down the hall, and we ain’t seen either of ‘em since.  Honestly, I feel a proper bastard calling on her in the first place, I’d much rather just let ‘er sleep after that.
Certainly she don’t look much better when she pokes her head out, mostly she looks worn thin and ready to drop.  She blinks down at me for a few moments, like she’s fighting to focus, and I wonder if maybe I just woke her up again as she’d finally managed to nod off, and it makes me feel worse to think that might be it.  Damn it … then she tries a smile that pretty much entirely fails to materialise, and when she speaks it’s more of a sigh than actual words.  “Hey … are you all right?”
Wow … I’m a moment answering for that.  “What … am I all right?  I’m so sorry I disturbed you, clearly.  We just wanted … um …”
“We?”  She frowns over my head now as she casts about, like she’s looking for phantoms accompanying me, maybe.  “But it’s just –”
“Kesla wanted to make sure you were all right.  You and … well, after we got back and you both just disappeared, we didn’t get a chance to …”  I growl at myself, having to grit my teeth as I rethink my words.  “Um … how is she?  Sessa?”
“Oh …”  She looks down, and for a beat I think she might be about to start crying after all.  “She’s … well she’s still out.  But they told me she’s finally started responding to the healing spells, which was good.  They just had to … had to cut away the …”  Her voice is starting to break after all.  “The rot … in her arm …”
To hell with it … I step forward into the doorway and just give her a hug after all, wrapping my arms tight as I can round her back and pressing my cheek into her chest.  Trying really hard not to think the thoughts that that small part o’ me starts having as I realise what I’m actually getting half a face-full of.  This really ain’t the time, she’s clearly still suffering an’ I really don’t wanna make her even more uncomfortable.
Thankfully, she don’t quite burst into tears like I kinda expected, instead simply responding to my hug after a few awkward, stiff moments and returning the embrace, tilting somewhat so the can rest her chin on my crown.  Her silken hair tumbles into my face and it’s cool and soft, and it just feels real nice with everything else.
Finally she pulls away, and when she reaches up to brush her cheek I see she started weeping a little after all, but has it under control.  After a beat she beckons me after as she starts to withdraw into the room proper.  “Come in.  Please.”
As she turns away she’s belting up her flannel robe, and I finally realise that she’s stripped right down to a simple linen slip underneath and I was slow noticing that’s all she’s actually wearing.  Fuck, I really did get her up, clearly.  My face grows hotter than it already was from accidentally sticking my face into her cleavage and I have to take a deep breath as I follow her inside, remembering to close the door behind me.  She’s already making for the bed, reaching up now to try straightening her hair, which has been entirely unfurled again, an incredibly striking cascade of tumbling pewter waves.
“How is Kesla?  After that fall, along with Shay, I mean –”
“She’s a little stiff and sore still, but all right.  She wanted to come see you right after … well, what she had to do, but I figured it might be a bit much for her to do both, and I wanted to see how you guys were myself.  Cuz I got to really like you this past week or so.”  This has her looking back at me, blinking in surprise just short of the bed, seeming a little lost now.  “I mean as friends, obviously.  I know I behave like I’m … but I’m not, not really … I mean I get it, you got …”
Nodding, Tulen manages an easier, more honest smile this time as she settles down on the edge of the bed.  Awful sad still, but a smile all the same.  “Yes. I do.  And I’m … Minerva, I’m so glad she’s all right … well, not all right, but … that she’s …”
“That’s great.”  I interrupt her mostly for her own good, wanting to distract her as I step the rest of the way into the room, making for the chair set out beside the bed.  “She deserves you.  She seems like an absolute sweetheart, and she clearly means a lot to you.”
Tulen turns to look down at the slumbering shape heavily bundled in blankets and quilts in the bed behind her.  About all I can really see is a spill of unruly black curls over the top of the covers, but I know this is Sessa, still heavily drugged by the clerics’ sleeping potion while their healing magic continues to work on her.  “She means the world to me.”
Settling into the chair, I let a heavy sigh out as I lean back into the thick, soft, richly upholstered cushions.  “Yeah, I get that.  I been there myself.”
After a beat, she responds, looking back at me with a much more thoughtful expression now.  “How is Darwyn?”
“Pissed off, mostly.”  I can’t help a slightly rueful half-grin at the thought.  “It’s pretty typical of her, really.  She damn near gets herself killed up there, and her shoulder was a bloody mess, but once they had the wound closed again and she was starting to mend she was mostly just angry at herself for it happening in the first place.  And a bit at me too.”
“Why you?”  She arches her brows in surprise.
“Cuz I was there.  And cuz she always blames me.  It’s just the way she is.”  I shrug, but while my grin fades, the smile itself remains.  “It drives me round the bend, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She frowns, just a little, her look still critical.  “You still love her.”
“Don’t reckon I’ll ever stop loving her.  Not after what we had.  Not to mention what we still got.  If you will.”
“You mean Vanna?”
“Yeah.”  I nod, smoothing my paws over the plush velvet lining the chair’s arms.  “She’s gonna bind us both forever, whether we’re still together or not.  She’s something special.”
“Yes, she is.  I thought she was absolutely amazing.  She’s so cute.  The way she knew right away I was a wizard, she just took one look at me and, well, you remember what she said.”
That makes me smile, remembering the other night.  “She asked if you could do some fancy magic for her, right there.  Cuz Toyah don’t want her to think it’s something just anybody can do, which is why she don’t do it all the time, just on special occasions.”
Tulen’s smile grows now.  “And then she asked me if perhaps she might be able to be a wizard someday.”
This time I chuckle, I can’t help it.  “Gods, wouldn’t that be something.  My own little girl, a wizard.”
“Anything’s possible.”  She’s growing wistful again, looks like.  “You never know.”
For a few moments we just sit facing each other, Tulen slowly rearranging the lie of her robe before crossing her arms lightly.  Not so much to shield herself from my gaze, just getting comfortable.  Even so, she’s starting to look a little worn again, or at least it’s starting to show again, as the mood shifts.
“Maybe I should go.  You need the rest.  After what happened --”
“No!”  She seems even more surprised than I am at the suddenness of her response, the urgency of her tone.  “Oh … sorry.  No, I … no, I’m all right.  You made the effort, the least I can do is be a good host.”
Shrugging, I shift about a little to try an’ sit up a little again.  Gods … why do these bloody cushy chairs always have to be so damn hungry?  “Fair enough, I guess you’re right.  I’m just … well, it was a rough night for all of us, but you especially.”
She don’t reply to that, she just nods, turning enough to look sidelong at Sessa again, and her wistfulness turns a little more bitter.  Finally she lets a little sigh go and lets her arms open out again, instead lacing her fingers together tight like she’s planning on wringing her hands some.  “So, um … Kesla … you said she had other business while you were doing this?”
“Yeah … I did …”  I almost blanche instead of responding, her observation and probing question together enough to set my nerves on edge.  “Yeah … shit.  She went to see how Lady Thura and her children are.  After the clerics finished checking ‘em over they got moved into a couple guest rooms so they could have some … well, y’now, peace an’ quiet.  Sort of.  I mean, after what happened …”
“Derion …”  she sighs, looking genuinely forlorn now, and I sympathise so much.  That kid was so full of life, he didn’t deserve what happened.  “I can … only imagine what they’re going through.  I mean, I doesn’t begin to … um …”  She falters, again looking back at Sessa’s largely hidden form, and her lip starts to wobble.  I know she’s starting to think about what almost happened to her own most precious person.
“No, I get it.  I had a little scare o’ my own in there.”  Shit, I regret it the moment I say it, it sounds so inadequate considering how lucky Darwyn was.  It was nasty at the time, it’s a damn good thing we got her back quick as we did and the clerics were able to help her, all she’s gonna have is just one hell of a scar, but … I did go through it at the time, it scared the hell outta me.  Just the thought of losing her like that, or worse, Vanna losing her mother …
It hit me hard enough that I didn’t even realise a much bigger tragedy even than the one Sessa’s suffered through had befallen Lady Thura.  I mean she’s going through the worst thing that can ever happen to a parent.  I’ve heard it said before, it’s a special kind of torment for a mother to lose her child.  Suddenly, now I know I got a daughter, I’m starting to get an inkling of what that must be like, and I hate it.
“Yeah …” I finally manage to sigh  “She … Lady Thura … um … I know she’s a special kinda tough, cuz she’s like Kesla, and she don’t break easy, but …”  I have to suck in a steadying breath in order to continue.  “Oh … yeah, I’m sure she’s suffering right now.  I knew Kesla was gonna have a hard enough time being there for her through that, so …”
“Of course.  I understand.”  Tulen looks down at her tightly locked hands for a long beat, her frown deep again.  “You were right to offer, then.  And I appreciate you making the effort, too.”  She looks up, and while she can’t smile, she’s still sad, there’s some warmth in her expression all the same.  “I am glad you came, Art.  You’re a good friend, and I’m honoured to count you as one of mine too.”
“Oh, yeah.  ‘Course you can.”  I nod, trying a smile that feels flimsy but honest, at least.  “You come through for us so many times since this started, almost feels like you’re part o’ the family now.  Much as Gael.”
And there it is, the moment I say that name the mood in the room turns again.  My heart starts to hurt right after I speak, and again I see it reflected in Tulen’s eyes.  She tightens her grip immediately, not enough to hurt herself, but I see her knuckles whiten all the same, and her lips thin somewhat as she looks away for a beat.  “I’m so scared for them, Art.  It’s been too long, and after what happened to Lady Thura, and Lord Wralin, and Madame Daste … I have terrible fear that something awful and irreparable has happened to them too …”
“No, I won’t believe that, I can’t.”  I sit forward now, struggling out of the great floppy suction of the cushions as forcefully as I can so I can rest my wrist on my knees, clasping my own paws together now too.  “They have to be all right, just like Darion must be.  I mean … well, Vandryss may be an evil bitch, but she clearly ain’t stupid.  There’s no way she’d just kill either of ‘em, they’re too valuable.  So … I mean it makes no sense otherwise.  Gael’s gotta be all right.  Or at least …”  I’m thoroughly ringing my paws now, glaring down at ‘em with my face tight and a deep cold, leaden anger seething in me.  “Fuck, I just hope they’re okay.  I have to believe it, cuz otherwise …”
I don’t even realise she’s gotten up until she drops to her knees right in front of me, taking hold of my paws in her much more delicate, long-fingered hands.  She’s so dextrous with them, despite those long claws, but then I imagine she’s spent her whole life learning to compensate.  When I look up into her eyes, I see her expression’s softened again, full of concern now, but a little shrewdness too, which gives me pause.  “It’s okay, Art.  I mean … yes, I’m sure you’re right.  And I understand, they really do mean so much to you.  Like how I feel about Sessa, I think.”
“What’re you …”  I have to frown at that.  “I dunno what you … they’re my friend, I care about ‘em a whole lot, yeah.  I’m scared to death for ‘em, same as I would be if it was Kesla, or –”
“No, I don’t think it is the same.  Art, I’ve kind of noticed you’re being wilfully dense when it comes to Gael, that you feel something more for them than you think you do.  Something closer to what you’ve clearly got with Darwyn, or I think perhaps what you had with her before.  Certainly it’s not much like the admittedly very sweet harmless flirtatious thing you’ve had going on with me since we met.  With Gael it feels much more genuine.”
Before I start protesting my ignorance, I stop short, almost inclined to just sit back and consider it as I go over it in my head.  I mean … honestly, I never really thought about this, not seriously, I mean sure I looked, Gael is cute as hell and smart as a whip and incredibly sweet, I can’t help liking ‘em a whole lot, but surely that’s just a real close friendship.  Except …
No, once I proper think about it, I start remembering that conversation I had with Kesla, back in the mountains, when she hinted she might’ve been thinking along similar lines to where Tulen’s leading.  And she ain’t alone, just a few days ago seemed like Shay’d picked up on the same thing, she was just more blunt about it.  Now I’m starting to wonder if any o’ the others have noticed.  If maybe Darwyn has too, I mean she knows me better’n just about anybody …
‘Cause maybe they’re right.  Maybe I have been thinking about Gael more’n just a friend.  Not just simple attraction, the way I am with so many people, either casual acquaintances or closer, where I notice ‘em, sure, maybe I even flirt a little if it’s strong, but it rarely goes beyond that.  But with Gael, it feels … different.  It feels deeper.  Like I really want them in my life, and the thought of not having ‘em in it hurts more’n I can bear.  Once I make that connection I realise Tulen really might be onto something, cuz it really does feel a whole lot like what I had with Darwyn, once upon a time.
My frown grows deeper as I look up again, seeing her watching me closely now, even more critical than before.  “Shit … you may be right, but … no, I can’t really.  I mean, there’s no way they’d … I mean, I’m definitely not their type, surely.  They gotta want something way classier’n me.”
Tulen smiles again, and it’s not so sad this time, like what I said genuinely amused her.  “Freya … you’re a bit of an idiot sometimes, I think.  Not in a bad way, of course.  But … honestly, I can’t see why they wouldn’t like you.  You’re sweet, and you’re kind, and you’re loyal to a fault.  And you make me laugh, which is definitely a bonus.”  She sighs, letting go of my paws at last as she sits back on her haunches now.  “Really, I’m not sure what they actually think.  To tell the truth I’m not even sure they have a type.  I never really had much of any indication when she was still in Bavat.”
“What, never?  Not once?”
She frowns again, cocking her head some as she looks up at me again, and considers for a moment.  Then she stands up, taking a few careful steps back before finally perching on the edge of the bed again, taking a moment to make sure she’s comfortable before continuing.  “Well … maybe once.”
I lean a little further forward now, I can’t help it, I’m intrigued.  Maybe part of it’s simply curiosity, the chance for a little gossip about my close friend, but … no, more like it’s self-interest winning through, the need to know about a potential rival, maybe.  I hold my tongue, not wanting her to clam up after all if I push, and just wait for her to continue.
I’m sure she picks up on my interest clear enough, I’m not even trying to hide it.  For a moment I think she might hold her tongue after all, but finally, after looking over her shoulder to check on Sessa again, she simply lets out another little sigh before starting.  “There was a group of us, back in the Academy, when we were still just students.  We were close, thick as thieves, I think is how you say it?”
“Yeah, something like that.”  I nod along.
“We looked out for each other, all the time.  Had each other’s backs, picked each other up when we were down.  We were very much like a family, and very much like what you all have here, with your group.  Sessa and I were the only ones who became something more than just friends, but … well, for a time there, I thought Gael might have developed stronger feelings for one of the others.”
My mind immediately goes to Jathran, who accompanied us here from Bavat, on business alongside Master Saxiros.  I’ve only run into him once since myself, so I ain’t really gotten to know him more’n enough to greet him in passing, but he seems real pleasant so far as I can tell.  He’s certainly handsome, and very tall, with good broad shoulders.  And he’s kind, and forthright, which I get the impression are qualities that Gael holds in very high regard, more so even than his obvious intelligence, I reckon.  Honestly, I can definitely see the appeal myself, I’ll admit I checked him out more’n once myself when we came over together.  I clear my throat, and try to sound as casual as I can.  “Really?  Good friend then, was he?”
If it convinces her I’d be real surprised, I sure wouldn’t have bought it.  “Yes, very much so.  Lorth.  After graduation, he went into public service like Gael, but then he was certainly very well suited to it.  He was easily the best of us in training when it came to combat, either with a weapon or just his hands, or turning magic to his own defence.  Indeed it seemed to come quite easily to him, as if he had a real natural talent for it.  Like Kesla.”
Crap … yeah, I can just imagine him, now.  He’s probably tall and broad across the shoulders, but in a more lean and lithe way than Jathran, built for speed and agility like a prowler, maybe.  Prob’ly dark an’ dashing, with an easy smile and a sparkle in his eye.  The type I’d be hard pressed to decide whether I hated his guts or just wanted to shag him.  Yeah, I probably wouldn’t have a chance against him in winning Gael’s affections …
“So he’s a big strapping lad, then?”
“Not particularly.  No taller than Gael, really, and lean.  But he can move when he needs to.  Very quick with a sword.”  She smiles now, but it’s with a fondness rather than any hint of something more … I don’t know, I really can’t imagine Tulen being capable of anything salacious, to tell the truth.  “And yes, Art, to answer the question you’re not asking, he is very handsome.  I’m sure you’d find him attractive too, I dare say.”
I give her a sour look at that, which just makes her smile grow.  “Great.  So they like a pretty face, then?”
“Oh no, it wasn’t that at all.  Lorth was just … well, it was a complicated relationship, really.  On the surface, at least, they’re not really much alike at all.  Lorth was definitely always the most confident of us, he’d be the first to face down the bullies when they tried to mess with one of us, and once they finally got it in their thick heads that they couldn’t beat him that would usually be enough.  He could be pretty cocky sometimes too, a bit like you, really, but with less of the joker about it.  Gael’s always been so much more thoughtful, and it took them time to really find their confidence, especially when we were younger.  At times I think it intimidated them as much as they looked up to it.”
“Yeah, I reckon I could see that.”  I nod.
“But he could be really sweet too, and he was a good, loyal friend.  He always looked out for Gael, and never teased them like the other children sometimes did.  I think his coming from a lowborn family probably had some bearing on that, so he could feel something like what they were going through, the way so many of the others looked down on them for being a half-elf.  I’m their best friend, but … I suppose they’ve always felt more of a kinship to Lorth.”
Sitting back again, mindful of lounging too much in case I wind up getting swamped again but too frustrated to really entirely care, I let out an irritable sigh.  “Sounds like they’re perfect for each other.”
Tulen just watches me for a while, shifting her position so she can tuck her leg up under her, then folding her hands again and laying them in her lap, twiddling her thumbs idly as she considers.  Her expression’s grown thoughtful again, her eyes more guarded.
“I don’t know, I think perhaps they danced around each other for too long before deciding it wasn’t going to work out.  They both had very similar dreams, but all the same that meant they would end up taking separate paths once they left.”  She gives her lover another little sidelong glance.  “Sessa left after graduation the same as them, but at least we’re able to keep in regular contact.  This is the first real time we’ve spent together again since Winterheart, but … I always knew she’d come home within an hour if I called her, work be damned.  Lorth … he’s been much more distant to all of us than Gael since then.”  She sighs.  “He never was one for writing letters, so …”
“Yeah, I get it.  It wouldn’t have worked.”  I rub the back o’ my neck for a few moments, pondering.  “Still, if they did have something once, then …”
“You know, I’ve known Gael about as long as anyone else in my life outside of my actual blood family.  It’s a rare day when I can’t tell what they’re actually thinking.  And it’s clear enough that they do like you too.  Very much, in fact.”
That makes me look up again.  “You think so?”
She full-on grins this time, and with her sharp teeth it makes her mischievous twinkle particularly wicked.  “Freya … you really don’t pay much attention, do you?  Yes, I think so.  It’s quite sweet, really.  I get the impression they’re as clueless about it as you are.”
“They are?  But …”  I frown down at my paws for a long beat, trying to work that out in my head.  I mean … honestly, I’m still trying to come to terms just with the idea that I’m thinking that way, but the possibility that Gael really might be too, that’s just … I really don’t know what to make of that.  It seems so bizarre, I mean I wouldn’t have thought in a million years I would really be their type, they’re way too classy for that, I’m just …
Finally I just blink as I look up at her again, words largely lost to me right now.  “Huh …”
“Please don’t hurt my friend.”  She’s deadly serious now as she stares right at me, eyes boring into mine.  “I mean it.  If you hurt them, I will end you.  I promise you that.”
I’m almost affronted, but I get where they’re coming from, and honestly, I know I’d be the same in her position.  So I put on the softest smile I can muster, and take a breath.  “Sure.  I gotcha.  You don’t gotta worry, my intentions are …”  I can’t help frowning now.  “Actually, I dunno what my intentions are.  Not yet.  It’s still … um …”
“All right, try not to overwork your brain.”  she sighs, folding her arms round herself now as she sits back a little, settling into a more comfortable position now as she tucks her other leg up under her too.  “I’m willing to believe you have the best intentions for my friend in your heart, at least because I’ve seen what you’re actually like around them.  You really do care very deeply about them, just as much as I do, and I know they’re safe with you, so …”
Letting another sigh go, she kind of shrinks into herself some as her face starts to darken, and she draws her arms tighter around herself.  “Shit …”  When she looks back again her eyes seem … wetter now.  “I guess I forgot …”
Oh yeah … no, I know what she means.  In the moment I s’pose we both did.  I let my own breath out long and heavy, and I can feel myself starting to deflate again as I fight to get myself back into a more upright seated position.  ’Least I ain’t managed to sink too much this time.  “Yeah … reckon we both did.”
“Art, I’m … fuck … I’m so scared for them.  Gael is … I know they can be tough when they have to be, but … I mean they’re still … underneath they’re still … I know they’re not really a warrior.  Not like you, and definitely not like Kesla.  They’re … they’re not really soft, but … but they’re gentle, and they’re sweet, and I don’t want them to be broken … but they’re with that …”  Her face starts to fall, creasing up now as the tears start to come, and her voice is breaking now.  “With that … that …”
Not really thinking about what I’m doing now, I spring from my chair and just pounce onto the space beside her on the bed, wrapping my arms round her as she starts to rock and hugging her to me tight as I dare as she starts to weep.  I keep my voice low, just a soft, breathy purr, soothing and gentle now.  “Shhhh … it’s okay, I promise you, it’s all right.  We’ll get ‘em back.  Kesla’s working on it, the others are all pulling together, we’re gonna get ‘em back.  I know we are.  We have to.”
As she lets her face settle into my shoulder and just lets go, I’m sure the tears she’s shedding now are not just for Gael and the situation they’re in now, but also for what she’s going through herself now, with Sessa and what she went through, what she’s still going through.  So I crush her only as firmly as I dare, knowing that she’s tough as any dragonhalf but still being careful not to break her all the same, she is fragile right now.  Cool as she might’ve been with me just a little while ago …
After a few minutes I hear a snuffling sound next to us, and I look over the best I can to see that Sessa’s starting to shift under her covers, starting to move in her sleep.  There’s a vague, muddled tension in the sounds she’s making, subtle whimpering maybe, like she’s having a bad dream, or maybe she’s responding to Tulen’s own little breakdown.  She doesn’t stir, not yet, but it makes me wonder if she might be starting to.  Honestly, I don’t know how long the drugs are actually s’posed to last.
Tulen finally starts to relax after a few more minutes, likely she just cried herself out.  The worst seems to be behind her, ‘least for now.  I keep her held tight for another minute before finally loosening my grip, letting her just settle into me on her own, and by now her breathing’s smoothing out again.  I give her back a long but soft, comforting rub, humming something kinda tuneless under my breath now, not really thinking too much about what I’m doing now, just wanting to calm her the rest o’ the way.  Seems to be working well enough.
Finally she raises her hands and starts to push against me, very gently, and I respond immediately, letting go and sitting back just enough to give her some space.  I still stay close as she starts to wipe her eyes, clearing her throat as she takes a big, very wet sounding sniff, before finally just letting out a heavy, somewhat fretful breath.  When she looks up at last, she looks almost angry, but in a guilty way.  Upset with herself, not me.  “Oh … I’m sorry, that was … Minerva, I’m kind of pathetic right now.”
“Fuck no, that’s not it at all, you’re just worried, and you’re recovering.  You got a lot o’ shit to put up with right now, way more’n the rest of us got …”  I shrug, half-heartedly sighing.  “It’s understandable, is all.  I get it.  I mean, I’m going through it too, I just …”
“No, I am sorry.  Here I am feeling sorry for myself and for …”  She winces, again with some clear inward-turned venom, and it hurts a little to see it.  “I didn’t mean to ignore how you guys are feeling.  Gael’s lucky to have all of you.”
For a long beat I’m unsure what to say in response, I’m feeling all kinds of awkward, but finally I just try on a smile that feels real unconvincing, reaching out to lay my hand, very haltingly indeed, on top of her own, and give it a gentle squeeze.  She looks down at it for another moment, almost seeming surprised, then tries a smile of her own, which is definitely mostly just sad and just as awkward as I’m feeling.
Then Sessa suddenly lets out a great rasping gasp, turning over with real suddenness, and starts to moan as she rolls back into her original position.  We both jump, but Tulen’s more on the ball, snatching her hand right out from under mine as she immediately shifts her perch on the bed and turns to her, leaning forward with careful hands as she starts to tend to her lover.  “Sessa?  Sweetie, are you all right?  Come on, baby, please just chill.”  Her voice is soothing, but I sense a sliver of worry in there all the same, needling at her.
For a few moments it seems like she might just have stirred a little, only to slip back under again, but then she lets out another, heavier moan and jolts with more violence, her back seeming to arch this time, like her body’s getting some of its strength back.  There’s still no words coming, but there seemed like there was almost a tone to her cries this time, and it’s clear enough to me now – Sessa’s dreaming.  Whatever it is it’s bad.  No wonder, there.
Feeling like I might be more of a hindrance here now, I step back away from the bed now, letting Tulen shuffle closer so she can reach under the covers and start to scoop the stricken half-orc up in her arms.  Sessa don’t start struggling yet, but she’s squirming all the same, more like she’s just reacting to what’s going on in her head now, and her moans are getting more desperate.  Finally Tulen pulls her into her lap and hugs her close, starting to rock her as she shushes her, but for a few more moments it don’t seem to have any real effect, it’s like the girl’s genuinely fighting her now.  “Oh fuck … Sessa … Sessa, honey, come on!  Please just snap out of it, wake up baby, it’s not real.  Please …”
All of a sudden Sessa jerks hard, damn near breaking right out of Tulen’s desperate embrace, but as she lets out a last winded, awkward snarl she seems to come to, stiffening immediately as she wakes with a start.  Tulen crushes her tighter still, shushing her again, and there’s a charged beat where I think maybe she’s just too far gone, that she don’t recognise the touch, any more’n she’d have any chance of recognising the room she’s in now … but then she starts to focus and when she looks up the first thing she sees is Tulen, scared and hopeful and so full of desperate love, and she stops cold.  Blinking for another few beats, her lips starting to wobble as her eyes glisten with fresh tears, recognition flooding ‘em.
“It’s all right.”  Tulen just keeps rocking her, barely breathing the words, less a whisper than a low hum, but just as gentle.  “I promise you it’s all right, you’re safe, it’s all over.  I promise it is …”
I brush my paws up and back through my mane while letting out a heavy, troubled breath, starting to feel like I’m intruding … just as there’s a knock on the door.  A loud one, too.  It makes me jump, and I hear Sessa squeak a little at it, only to burst into low sobs a beat after and Tulen starts to shush her all over again.
My heart pounding in my chest, I drag a breath back in and look back at Tulen, finding her watching me with quiet shock in her wide eyes while she continues to rock Sessa while she weeps.  “Yeah …”  I breathe in response, finally letting go of my mane as I turn back to the door, still feeling supremely edgy as I take several very careful steps towards it.
As it is I’m momentarily reluctant to actually reach out and open it.  Then there’s another knock, even heavier and more insistent than the last, and I barely manage not to bounce right out my hide this time.  Instead I grit my teeth and steady my nerves, getting pissed at myself as I take the last step and turn the knob, fighting the urge to just tear the door right open and instead doing so with due caution before peering out.
Damn … it’s Yeslee.  No wonder that knocking was so savage.  She frowns down at me, more intense than I’d like, but it’s less suspicion than I maybe expected.  “I smelled you from halfway down the hall.  Didn’t think you’d still be here.  Are you trying to take advantage?”
That just makes me frown, trying hard to stop short o’ full-on glaring.  “Knock it off, Yes.  This ain’t the time.”
She actually arches her brows as she shifts her feet, cocking her head a little as she looks me over.  I just open the door enough to make room, but don’t step out of her way.  “All right, then.”  She steps back, her face returning to its normal state of stoic unreadability, and looks off down the corridor.  Back towards the chapel, maybe?  “Whatever you’re doing, best call it a day.  Something’s up.”
“What is it?”  I step forward now, not quite stepping out but closer to her all the same.  “Trouble?  It’s pretty bad timing if –”
“No.  Probably not.”  Yeslee just steps back again, this time starting to move in the opposite direction she was looking.  “I still have to fetch Kesla.  She needs to be there too.  Thought you should know.”
“Right, so it’s business.”  I start to turn back, then stop, giving her one last look.  “Just wait on me a tick, I’ll be right behind you”
Not bothering to see if she actually waits for me, I turn back to find Tulen still watching me, a more complex look on her face now as she frowns.  Sessa seems to be settling now, at least, but …
“Should I come too?”
After a beat’s consideration I shake my head.  “No, stay with her.  I’ll come back.”
When she nods I manage a half smile in response, then step the rest of the way out the room, closing the door before finally turning back.  Yeslee’s already heading off down the corridor, moving with her usual big, determined strides, and I have to jog to catch up with her before she’s just gone.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
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peknie · 10 months
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CAT Car (2)
Full story; AO3, WATTPAD Tumblr parts; 1, 2
Summary;
Tommy is an invisible attendant on the Cross-Atlantic Train Carriage- also know as the CAT Car. It was a train that ran across the Atlantic Ocean, making headlines before it was even built. He's only there for the money, but it seems he's not the only one. Suspicious guests aboard its first trip accidentally reveal secrets to their invisible attendant that he can't get out of his head. A detective, a thief, an actor, a billionaire, two attendants and their boss walk into a train carriage... And not all of them will walk out when the journey ends.
Playlist:
CAT Car - Spotify
Notes:
This took way too long to update- sorry! I often work 9 hours as a toddler teacher, so it's hard to get time in lol! Anyway, I'm not a very good artist & its heavily stylized so just skip over the images if you don't like em :]
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Comfort in Torment
     The day came to go back to the station. Tommy had 'borrowed' some clothing from a store nearby, quite liking the white and red shirts he took. They were all the same, meaning he'd be wearing the same shirt daily, but who would see? Ranboo-b? Tommy scoffed at the idea of caring what all Ranboo had to think about his style.
     Ranboo Beloved. Tommy felt an inkling of guilt over being so harsh in his head, especially considering how Ranboo helped him find a place to stay. Out of pity, though- so he didn't feel too bad.
      "Beloved is such a pretentious last name," Tommy murmured as he approached the station. The other attendants stood around, waiting quietly for Mr. Warden to arrive. 
      Ranboo stood out easily now that Tommy had noticed him. They caught Tommy's eye, waving slightly. Tommy nodded and looked away, opting to stand on the other side of the room.
      When Mr. Warden did enter the station, he smiled at the attendants. "I'm glad to see you've all made it! Follow me, and I'll lead you all on a tour. Once you've seen your designated area, you can settle into your cabins and relax until tomorrow." He made his way to the side door, motioning them all to follow him to the back of the train.
     The end of the train cart was simple. Colorful lining crowned the ceiling, and the seats were a bright yellow. Mr. Warden told the attendants that this was where the reporters would be, that the attendants working there- Aimsey and Guqqie- would need to make sure they would leave five-star reviews. 
     The common areas that separated different sleeping areas and types of people were all decorated in different colors and styles. There was another area, closer to the front, designated to medical professionals and experts of all kinds. 
     Experts that could come in handy in case of emergency.
     By the time they reached Tommy and Ranboo's section, everyone else had begun to settle into their cabins. Mr. Warden turned to face them in the common area. Tommy's eyes swiftly took in this cart's decor, catching on a series of portraits.
     There were no seats in this part, but there were old-timey, western style portraits of people. Tommy only recognized one. It was the billionaire Shelby Grace. She was well-known for being born into wealth and using it in a humanitarian way. Tommy only knew of her because she'd funded one of the homeless shelters he had stayed in. The others, though, were lost on him.
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     "This is only half of this group's common area. There's a bar here, and whichever one of you will be in here will be behind the bar. Neither of you will be allowed to drink, but you have full access to any food we serve." Mr. Warden looked to where Tommy was staring, humming. "Oh, those will be the passengers you look after. They're either incredibly rich or incredibly famous. Here, my favorite is Techno Blade- a very mysterious figure in high society. Maybe he's my favorite because of his name, though."
     Both Tommy and Ranboo said nothing, and Sam Warden smiled. "I'm aware that I've said being quiet is a part of this job, but you've already proven you can be. You're allowed to speak, you know."
     Tommy's lips quirked into a nervous grin. "Wasn't sure if this was the final test or something."
     As much as he was sure he'd already gotten the job, his heart beat faster as he waited for Mr. Warden's eyes to narrow. He only nodded, though. "That's a fair assumption. I promise you that you don't need to worry about that." Gesturing to the portraits, Mr. Warden continued, "Any you two recognize?"
     Tommy shrugged loosely. "I've heard of Shelby Grace. She sponsored-" Tommy paused, wondering if he should mention his bouts of homelessness. "-She sponsored a workplace of mine. A homeless shelter."
     "Really?" Mr. Warden's brows knit together. "I don't remember seeing that in your work history. You worked at a shelter?"
      "I didn't put it down because it was volunteer work, is all." Tommy avoided his boss' eyes, staring intently at the portraits.
     "I recognize him," Ranboo spoke lowly, scaring the absolute shit out of Tommy, who had forgotten they were there. "Schlatt. And his son. A few papers away from him, that's Schlatt's son, isn't it?"
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     "President of Snowchester." Mr. Warden smiled and nodded. "The city in Greenland we'll be going to. I invited him, and he surprisingly accepted. His son's coming too, of course. You've done your research, I suppose?"
      Ranboo shrugged. "A little, but I know about Schlatt because I used to live in Snowchester."
     "Oh?" Mr. Warden seemed pleasantly surprised. "Then we have some first-hand experience with some of our guests. I suppose this means I placed you two well." Leading them into the next cart, he stopped in the seating area. "I expect you to treat all our guests the same, though."
     Tommy and Ranboo nodded, deciding to take an interest in the Western-style, dull couches and booth seats. There was a variety of decorations that fed into the theme, the color orange appeared more often than not.
      Next, they were led past the passenger cabins to their own, a shared room with beds across from one another. Tommy set his small bag at the food of the window bed, not giving Ranboo a chance to choose. Mr. Warden laughed. "Alright, well, you two get ready. Tomorrow, I'll drop off a full supply of the invisibility serums before boarding at twelve."
      Tommy sat on the bed he'd claimed, Ranboo raising a brow. "What if I wanted the window bed?"
     "Then you should've been faster," Tommy mumbled. Ranboo laughed, shaking his head and putting his suitcase on the other bed. 
     It was silent- sans the shuffling of Ranboo unloading their things- as Tommy looked around the cabin. The decor was similarly Western, though the trim of the ceiling was colored a rainbow of every main color of the other compartments and common areas. Tommy hummed in approval, liking the look, but it left him cold as he realized how dull they all seemed. He knew, logically, that the colors were bright- loud- but it felt muffled to him. 
     Tommy flopped onto his back, staring pointedly at the blank ceiling. Ranboo looked at him after a while. "You okay?"
     "Of fuckin' course I am," Tommy scoffed, crossing his arms dramatically.
     Ranboo shook their head and sighed to themself, waving Tommy off. After a second of Ranboo unpacking his clothes, he gave in and asked.
     "What is your problem with me? What did I do to you?"
     Tommy looked over from his spot on the bed, trying to forget about the colored trimming.
     Tommy's face scrunched when he saw how close to the top of the door Ranboo was. "You're freakishly tall," Tommy decided with a huff. "It's distracting."
     Ranboo blanked. "Are you kidding me?" Their voice was higher now, making Tommy stifle a slight smile. "That's your problem with me? I'm tall?"
     Tommy looked at the ceiling again. "I said what I said."
     Refusing to talk to such a petty person, the two ignored one another for the rest of the day- aside from the occasional insult. It wasn't overly malicious, just poking fun at one another occasionally. Usually about height.
     By the end of the day, there were two post-its on the wall by the door, measuring their height. Tommy had marked Ranboo's height as 'freakishly tall,' and Ranboo had written him as 'the size of a gremlin.' 
      They went to bed a bit more comfortable with one another's presence, despite the insults and arguments. 
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     The next morning they awoke to a knock on their door. Mr. Warden came in with a case, a cart behind him carrying more. He set it down by the shared dresser. "These are the serums, be sure to lock the case when you're not taking something out or putting it back in." 
       "Thank you, Mr. Warden." Ranboo nodded to him. Mr. Warden's eyes narrowed in distaste. 
      "Please, call me Sam."
      Tommy cringed. Mr. Warden was his boss. Calling him by his first name would be strange. Ranboo apologized, "Sorry, Mister- uh- Sam."
      Mr. Warden chuckled and walked away. "Don't be sorry. It's not your fault. Remember, boarding is at noon, so be sure to take the serums just before everyone boards. I'm sure you'll do great."
      Ranboo stood up as the door closed, opening the case. They observed the serums, picking one up and turning it over in their hands. "Do you want to bartend, or should I?"
      "I mean, who even's going to drink on the first day? Sounds boring, is all."
      Wincing, Ranboo shrugged. "You never know, rich and famous? They can drink anytime." He laughed, tone dry and humorless. 
      "That's true."
      "How about we switch off every day?" Ranboo handed a serum to Tommy. Tommy's brows furrowed. "We should probably stick to a cart for the ride."
      "Why's that?"
      "Have you ever worked in a bar?" Tommy asked as though the reason was obvious. Ranboo tilted their head, fingers awkwardly messing with a lock of their hair. "Uh... No? Have you?"
       "... No," Tommy said, looking away- like a liar. "I just mean that people sometimes ask for their usuals. If we switch it'll be obvious we don't know their usuals."
      "Dang." Ranboo sighed, taking a minute to speak again, "I'll do the bar portion, then."
      "Are you sure?" Tommy asked, despite having argued with Ranboo for a while. Tommy had bartended before, and with his experience, he wouldn't be upset about it.
      Ranboo's eyes darkened. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd rather do that, anyway."
      Deciding not to ask, Tommy shrugged and tucked the serum in his pocket. The two waited, Ranboo heading back to his bed after inspecting most of the vials.
     Ranboo got on his phone, Tommy opting to doodle in his notebook. There was no wifi or reception on the train, so Tommy assumed he was playing Candy Crush or something else lame that lame people do.
     When the time rolled around, Tommy and Ranboo picked up their serums. As Tommy took it, he relished the way the colors brightened again. The colorful trim of the room became a vivid hue, purple shining around Ranboo's figure. Looking at his hands, Tommy saw a flow of colors run over him. Like watching the sky through the air above a grill, his limbs distorted the room.
      "Is Sam sure nobody will see us?" Ranboo asked, flexing their hands. Tommy had to squint to see any details of their face. "I mean, if they do, it's not like it's our fault."
      "Fair, I guess." Ranboo rummaged in the case, pulling out a slip of paper and holding up a purple vial. "So, half of the serums are for reversing the invisibility- for when we get back to the cabins at lights-out. There's also a limit, so we'll have to take another around mid-day every day from here on out. You got pockets?"
      Tommy hummed, nodding as he walked over to read over the paper. He slyly slipped a purple vial into his pocket, despite not needing to hide the fact he took it. As he held it, it turned a transparent color, like that of himself. Turning to the door to head to the compartments, he rammed into Ranboo, both of them reeling back.
     Instead of apologizing, Tommy scoffed loudly, "Ugh- out of the way, tall-ass."
      Ranboo chuckled, muttering under his breath.
      "What was that?" Tommy asked, adding in a "Bitch?"
      "I said- I didn't see you. Guess I wasn't looking down far enough." They made gestures with their hands to indicate Tommy as short. Huffing and puffing, Tommy crossed his arms and stomped across the room, storming out of the compartment and cursing on the way to fake a strong rage.
      While Ranboo moved past him to the bar section, he gathered his thoughts and readied himself for a steady flow of passengers.
       As the clock struck twelve, the sound of doors opening caused a low hum through the train.
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airadam · 1 year
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Episode 165 : The Second Plug.
"Too old to rhyme? Too bad, too late."
- Dave
This month marks a huge loss for the Hip-Hop community, and the music world more widely, as Dave, aka Trugoy The Dove of De La Soul, passed away. As part of the group, he was a perfect match with Pos on the mic, and was one of those low-key people that no-one ever had anything but good to say about. De La's influence is hard to overstate; without them, we might have had no Tribe, no Pharcyde, no Souls of Mischief... They showed that you didn't have to follow the hypermasculine style of their time, and brought their own brand of humour and creativity. On top of that, they were frequent and much loved live performers, and Dave's presence as part of one of the best shows in the culture will be greatly missed. Of course, in tribute, we have several De La Soul tracks in this month's selection.
Before we get into the tracklist and notes; here's where you can donate to relief efforts in Turkey and Syria following the devastating earthquake they suffered this month.
Twitter : @airadam13
Twitch : @airadam13
Events : events.airadam.com
Playlist/Notes
De La Soul : Stakes Is High
Knowing that we were going to make several visits to the De La catalogue, I just had to open the episode with this one, the title track to their fourth album. The late J Dilla is on production, and there's a classic story of Posdnuous having to "Jedi mind trick" Q-Tip out of taking the beat for himself! To Pos' ears, the majesty of the beat perfectly fit the grand theme De La were going for with the lyrical theme, and he was bang on. The title actually came from Dave's late cousin Fudge, who told him "...you all better do something. The stakes is really high for you right now..." and his words live on through this work. De La take that title and use it to warn how high the stakes were for Hip-Hop at that time, with the jiggy and Mafioso era in full swing and raising real alarm for the direction of the culture. 
Pete Rock : Play Yo Horn
The first instrumental of the month is a 2015 release, though whether it was actually recorded anywhere near that year, I couldn't be sure! For one, Pete Rock is a master at channeling vintage flavours, and secondly, he's been known to bring stuff out of the vaults that sounds great even today. I would love to hear MCs getting busy on this dense cut from "Petestrumentals 2".
Fat Joe and Big Pun : Best Behavior (Remix)
I love the dark, late night flavour of the original version, but Show does an equally good job on this remix (one of at least three to exist) - big horns, banging drums, and an overall stripped-back, boom-bap feel. You already know Big Pun is going to give you heavy bars, and Fat Joe holds it down on the mic too. I have this on a 12" backed by "My Life's On The Edge" by A-Bless, but I hear it's also on the 2005 "Street Talk" DITC compilation. 
Big L : On The Mic
This vinyl had already been throught the wars when I got it, but I guess the surface noise lends a certain flavour! You might recognise the vocals from the track "Size 'em Up" from the posthumously-released "The Big Picture" album, but this raw Roc Raida-produced track is on the B-side of the "Flamboyant" 12" single - definitely one to pick up for the Big L fans. RIP Big L and Roc Raida.
D'Angelo : Devil's Pie
One of those happy accidents, the bassline of this track was created by DJ Premier for a track with Canibus. It didn't work out and D'Angelo happened to call the same day, and he asked to hear the unfinished product. He loved it, and they went back to the studio the next day to finish what became one of the standouts on his sophomore "Voodoo" LP!
Mad Skillz : It's Goin' Down
Arguably the first MC to really make some noise out of Virginia (hence the name of his debut LP, "From Where???"), Skillz may not have the record sales of some of the more famous MCs...but he may well have written their rhymes at some point! This track is an early J Dilla production (from when he was going by Jay Dee), and has a little of the Latin flavour that would make up a big part of one of his better known productions, "Runnin'" for The Pharcyde. Also - don't Skillz and Big L have a very similar vocal tone?
[Pete Rock] InI : Fakin' Jax (Instrumental)
You can't be mad at getting another Pete Rock instrumental! This one is vintage SP action, the  instrumental for the lead track from the originally-unreleased InI LP "Center of Attention", and it's a real "if you know, you know" number.
De La Soul : U Can Do (Life)
I decided to lead this off with part of the album intro that immediately precedes it on "Art Official Intelligence : Mosaic Thump", just so you could hear where the podcast intro comes from! The LP came four years after "Stakes Is High", an eternity in Hip-Hop, and marked a departure from their norm in one way - a relatively large number of featured artists. This track, however, is the core group coming from the heart, over a chunky beat from Supa Dave West. Dave/Trugoy both opens and closes the track, with his last line being "live your live to the fullest". He did just that. 🕊
Libretto & Buscrates : Culture
With so much music being released on a daily basis nowadays, it's too easy for a killer track like this to slip through the cracks, but I've got it here for your enjoyment! Libretto is speaking on the rawness of the streets and how that ties into the Hip-Hop culture from his perspective, while Buscrates smashes it with a beat that feels part classic sample and part bass synth workout. And of course, he has the drums thumping through. An absolute jewel from the "Eternal Ridin'" LP.
Sparkz : Overload
Manchester's own Sparkz has featured on the podcast many times with his contributions to various groups, but here he is as a soloist on his first release after moving to the UK's well-respected High Focus records. This single will test your bass response, but while heavy, the beat provides plenty of space for Sparkz' to give you a full mic workout. Keep an eye out for new material from this man.
De La Soul & J Dilla : No More No Less
What a track - a reworking of "The Magic Number" concept, over an officially unreleased beat from J Dilla (which you might find online, entitled "Watching Smurfs On Shrooms"). We take this one from an EP that was originally a free release, and hopefully still findable now - "Smell The DA.I.S.Y" (Da Inner Soul of Yancey) - with even the title being a remix, a revisiting of the "D.A.I.S.Y. Age" idea from the beginnings of De La. The whole EP is made up along similar lines, with De La revisiting old themes over unreleased Dilla beats. The relationship between De La and Dilla was real, and there are few other crews with as much claim to put out a project like this.
Blackalicious : My Pen and Pad
That pen and pad were working overtime for this excellent lyrical display from the late Gift of Gab. Flow is as dope as you'd expect, and Chief Xcel holds down the beat as usual on a low-key funk vibe that changes up occasionally in the background without ever stealing the focus. You can find this on Blackalicious' third LP, "The Craft" - perfectly titled for such a dedicated crew.
Evil Needle & Misha : Cloud Zone
This new release is the kind of thing that will slip under most radars, but is the kind of quality I've been finding since plugging into the whole Chillhop Music movement. It's beautiful beatmaking, warm and bumping, and the vocoded quasi-background vocal additions take it over the top. The opener on the "chillhop beat tapes: Evil Needle x Misha" six-tracker, this beat is a perfect example of coming out of the gate strong when you're ordering tracks on a release.
Brelstaff ft. Fashawn : Cursive
This brand-new release is quite the trans-Atlantic combination, with Edinburgh's Brelstaff cooking up a laidback instrumental for Fashawn, representing Fresno in California. Only a very short one, but sometimes, as GZA once said, it makes for a stronger track to cut it off early.
Beanie Sigel : Look At Me Now
"Moms? Tryna lock me out. Cops? Tryna lock me in." Wow, that is some heavy business in the first verse of this quality come-up album cut, that ends happily, with Beanie looking out for the youngsters who struggle as he once did. You can find this tucked away towards the end of the 2005 LP "The B. Coming", with Buckwild providing the lush, string-laden production.
Joell Ortiz : In My Feelings
No hook, no filler, just raw - feelings, indeed. Joell speaks on the ups and downs of his career without interruption on an ill Heatmakerz beat, opening up the 2021 "Autograph" album on an intensely personal note. 
Ozay Moore, Vursatyl, and Chip-Fu : Slingshot
Seattle stand up! Ozay Moore brings friends through on this selection from the "Taking L's" album. It's nice to hear Chip-Fu of the Fu-Schnickens again, and with the tempo being relatively low, you can hear every word in his signature flow as he slows it to match. 14K is on production, and the kick is kicking like the police want to come through the door, but sometime in the next couple of hours or so :) The beat is heavy, but the timing of the composition is nicely relaxed!
J-Zone : The Commandments (Instrumental)
Labelled as "The Commandments" on the "J-Zone Instrumental Box Set: The Headband Years (1999-2006)" collection, this is the instrumental of the cut styled as "The Commandment$" from the 2003 "Sick Of Bein' Rich" album. Can't believe it's been twenty years already! He may have fully moved from Hip-Hop production and MCing into drumming, but you can't front on his great catalogue of previous work.
De La Soul ft. MF DOOM : Rock Co. Cane Flow
I was shocked to find out that I hadn't played this monster from "The Grind Date" on the podcast before, though maybe that was because the (manually-done!) speed changes make it awkward to mix with. As a closer though? Perfection. Jake One's beat just smashes through like Godzilla, building to the kind of grandness and drama that would fit the climactic action sequence of a Marvel film, and all the MCs are on form for it. The late MF DOOM fits right in alongside Pos and Dave as a devastating three-mic unit, and fittingly, Dave closes the track, and this epidose, out. RIP.
Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!
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