#it ain’t even going be nuclear it’s gonna just be the sun | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vincess-princess · 3 years

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war?

Fandom: Motley Crue Characters, pairings: minor Nikki Sixx\Vince Neil, Nikki Sixx, Vince Neil, Tommy Lee, Mick Mars Rating: Teen so far, may change in the future Warnings: displays of extreme radiation poisoning, violence, unreality (so far) Summary: The boys go into a post-nuclear war-themed quest room, but is it really just a quest room?

idea by @dopefreshprincess, thank you so much for giving me inspiration <3

Chapter 1/?

Word count: 8059

“Wow!” Tommy looked around, eyes sparkling with excitement. “This is sick!”

Nikki did not reply, as did the others were gaping silently at the landscape extending in front of them. Escape room managers always tried to assure them of the reality of the experience, but the layout of all the escape rooms they visited before could be usually proved fake, sometimes by smallest of details. Not this one, though: the desolate, ravaged, post-nuclear war landscape looked uncannily real. They could even feel the hot breeze in their hair, bits of sand carried by it scraping their skin.

A desert sprawled in front of them, the ceiling that imitated the sky painted pale orange, no clouds, the lamp replacing the sun emitting so much heat Nikki could already feel droplets of sweat sliding down his back. Here and there bare, skeletal-looking trees stretched their branches up towards the sky – they barely reach the group’s waists, but trailed along the ground for meters. The only other plant around was spiky grey grass with frail stems. Nikki kneeled in front of one of them, trying to understand how it managed to grow through a completely dry, hardened soil. Wait, that’s a fake, he reminded himself. It was probably made of rubber and just stuck into the ground, it didn’t need no water.

Nikki reached out and tried to tear the plant out of the ground, but quickly drew his hand back with a hiss. The stem had little hair-thin thorns, sharper than needles. A few of them pierced through his skin and got stuck in his finger. Fuck, those sure as hell weren’t rubber.

“Huh?” Vince turned his head, distracted from fascinatedly observing the location by Nikki’s hiss. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Nikki said quickly, knowing how sharp-tongued Vince was. “Just got a splinter.”

“Are you gonna survive?” Vince inquired in a serious tone, but with a sly smile on his lips.

“I hope so,” Nikki muttered, trying to be angry at the mocking smile Vince shot him and failing miserably. “Careful with these things. They’re damn realistic.”

“Told you, these guys make the best escape rooms I’ve ever been in,” Mick said. He was the only one to remain relatively unimpressed, though his gaze lingered on the sand dunes a little bit longer than needed. “It’s gonna be a real survival quest, so buckle up.”

“Ain’t no quest too hard for us,” Tommy grinned. “Let’s set a world record on this one, lads.”

“Hell yeah!” Vince joined him, eyes sparkling. “The harder, the more fun!”

Mick rolled his eyes in exasperation. “That’s why you two absolutely can’t have nice things. You’re on a thin fucking ice, Sixx,” he added, side-eyeing Nikki.

“Hey, I haven’t even said anything!”

“I know you well enough.”

Nikki huffed with annoyance, but purely to keep face. He knew, of course, that Mick was right.

“Are we setting off at last?” Tommy was practically jumping with excitement. “Come on, come on, you snails!” he waved his hands in an inviting gesture. “Could you speed up a little?”

“We ain’t in a hurry,” Mick cut him down, but carefully stepped off the platform that took them to the location. The platform rose up swiftly and disappeared in the sky. Nikki traced it with his eyes. They would not be able to call it back, only in an extreme emergency, and the level of emergency was going to be decided by the quest room staff, who were supposed to watch the travelers constantly. In reality, though, when Nikki peeked into the security room half of the cameras weren’t working, and the only guard there was too busy playing his new Nintendo switch. So they couldn’t really count on staff; from now on they had to complete the quest to get out. Usually it added to the thrill, but now Nikki’s guts felt uneasy at the thought.

“Hm.” Mick stomped his foot on the ground. “The sand is very thin. We shouldn’t have any problem walking.”

“Then let’s walk!” Vince called, fidgeting in his place. “I wanna see the destroyed city replica! Is it gonna have real radiation there?”

“You ask me? Boy, I’ve never been here. I can only tell you what Chris told me, and he never mentioned it. Everything is possible. Do you even know where the city is?”

“It’s gonna show up eventually anyway, no?” Vince tilted his head. “The quest zone is not that big.”

“Why are you so sure?” Mick raised an eyebrow. Nikki could feel frustration radiating off him. He probably wanted to make every second of this adventure worthwhile instead of speedrunning it. “Besides, you ain’t getting to no goddamn city without supplies and gear.”

“Aren’t they in the backpacks?” Vince frowned, then pulled his backpack off his back. The easiness with which Vince tossed it around was suspicious, like it carried no weight whatsoever.

Nikki weighed his own backpack with his arm and a cold shiver ran down his spine. How could he not notice how light it was?

Meanwhile, Vince had already opened his bag, and his eyebrows arched in surprise.

“There ain’t nothing there!”

“The hell-“ Nikki pulled at the zip and tore the backpack open. His bad feeling proved right - it was empty.

“Mine too!” Tommy shoved his hand inside, feeling the material up as if trying to find secret pockets there. The thin, chip fabric of the backpack couldn’t hide any pockets within it even with the most intricate design.

“Same thing”, Mick pursed his lips, having checked his. “Shit’s getting interesting.”

“The hell we’re gonna do without supplies? We are in a desert!” Tommy exclaimed, throwing his backpack to the ground with frustration. “We paid for an empty backpack?!”

“What, the quest suddenly too tough for ya?” Mick snorted, but then his face softened at Tommy’s helpless expression. “Relax, kid. They ain’t gonna let their clients die. We’ll probably find supplies along the way.”

“They probably aren’t gonna just lie there in the middle of a desert, though,” Nikki said. He could understand Tommy’s disappointment – the quest from the average difficulty just switched to expert, and Tommy was never the one to enjoy meticulous resource-gathering instead of fighting and cracking codes. He, however, didn’t seem to share Tommy’s feelings – instead, he could feel anticipation building up in his chest. This was gonna be a real test of character, and he was gonna show everyone he could pass it. Especially Vince.

“No shit, Sixx,” Tommy murmured, still worked-up, but relaxing slightly. “Then where the hell are we supposed to find them? We don’t even have a map.”

“Hey, quit whining,” Vince joined in. He didn’t seem to be upset in a slightest, though his flippant smile disappeared from his lips. “Nikki is right. We gotta find a city or some settlements. They must be full of lost stuff. And we’ll get a shelter from the heat.” He wiped sweat off his forehead, caught Nikki’s gaze and smiled with corners of his mouth. When he turned away, Nikki smiled back.

“Well, I’ll look at y’all after a couple of hours walking through the desert,” Tommy muttered indignantly, but didn’t continue his rant. He went to a big rock a few feet away and plopped onto it with a grim expression. Mick, Nikki and Vince exchanged looks.

“Okay, so what are we doing now?” Vince asked in a low voice. “I’m already thirsty. Where’s that city of theirs? Mick?”

“Don’t ask me,” Mick waved his hand. “I haven’t been here before, remember? I just know that it exists. I don’t think it’s that far away, though. The zone can’t be bigger than a day or two of walking. The building didn’t look that big to me from the outside, at least.”

“These plants probably have some water in them, like cactuses,” Nikki nodded at the grey spiky grass. “You could try sucking on them-“

“No, thanks, I’m not that desperate,” Vince interrupted him, rolling his eyes. “So what, we’re looking for a city?”

“Well, you’d rather stay here?” Mick raised his eyebrow. “No? Good. I swear, a little bit more of this senseless talk and I’m leaving without you.” He turned his back to them and headed forward, not sparing them a single look.

“Why is he so pissy?” Vince muttered to Nikki.

“Angry because of the supplies?” Nikki shrugged in response and looked back at Tommy, who was still sitting on the rock with his back turned to the rest of the world. He seemed to hunch, looking at something on the ground. “Hey, T-bone! We’re leaving!”

“Uh-huh,” Tommy murmured, not paying them any attention. What, was he refusing to come with them?

Well, that was getting ridiculous.

“T-bone!” Nikki approached him and not so gently slapped him on the shoulder. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” Tommy looked up at Nikki distractedly. “Nik, do you think this map is supposed to have enemies?”

“I’m gonna be disappointed if it doesn’t” Nikki grinned. “But probably not in the middle of a desert. Maybe in the city. But we’d be supposed to find weapons for them, wouldn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded and rose up from his rock. “Where we going?”

“Looking for the city,” Vince said from behind Nikki’s back. “We’re pretty sure it’s somewhere close.”

“You’re sure,” Tommy made a dissatisfied face. “Okay, if you’re so sure, let’s go there.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass today,” Vince told him, but with no malice in his voice. “How’d you survive in a real apocalypse? Y’know, when there are no supplies lying around, prepared specifically for you?”

“Well, there ain’t gonna be no apocalypse in my lifetime,” Tommy shook his head, picked up his backpack and headed after Mick, who was already a tiny silhouette against the orange skies and seemingly had no intention of waiting for them.

The thin layer of sand was easy to walk on, and their heavy boots prevented them from getting sand between their toes. What they weren’t preventing them from, however, was the heat. The lamp imitated the sun a little bit too well; as it traveled across the sky (Nikki wondered if it was fixed on a rope or if some mechanism did the moving), it became hotter and hotter. Soon their jackets were off, and their t-shirts were soaking wet.

“How long has it been? Two hours?” Vince asked, fanning himself with his stupid cowboy hat that Nikki hadn’t managed to talk him out of wearing. “I swear, if we don’t find water soon, I’m gonna drink my own piss.”

“I can offer you another, much more nutritious fluid-“ Nikki was interrupted by a backpack flung at his face and barely managed to duck in time. “Hey, you could’ve just said no!”

“I’d rather die of thirst,” Vince promised gloomily, but before he turned away, Nikki caught a glimpse of a smile on his face. He sped up to catch up with Mick. Nikki didn’t want to march forward alone, so he slowed his pace, waiting for Tommy.

“What kind of enemies do you think we’re gonna encounter?” Tommy asked him, somewhat anxious.

“No clue, dude,” Nikki said carelessly. “Some mutated rabid rats? Mad scavengers? I hope it’ll be mad scavengers. The robots we were shooting last time were too predictable.”

“And the weapons?” Tommy didn’t seem relieved by his words in a slightest.

“I hope paintball guns – so you can see when you hit someone, y’know. Laser guns are too glitchy.”

“You think it will be just actors?” Tommy shot him a glance. Nikki frowned. Why was he so worked-up anyway? They were on a quest, they were supposed to have fun, not worry.

“Of course. Do you think they’re gonna release actual animals on us or something? That’s just a game.” Nikki shook his head at Tommy when he opened his mouth again, no longer willing to answer weird questions. “Come on, let’s catch up with those two. Or they’ll find loot earlier than us and will take all the alcohol.” He grabbed Tommy’s arm and pulled him forward. Tommy followed, like a puppet obeying every twitch of its master’s fingers.

Half an hour later, literally nothing changed. The sky was the same sickish orange; the sand was crumpling under their boots with barely audible crunching sounds. The tension was hanging in the air like fog, enveloping their little group whole, getting more and more thick. The frown on Mick’s face deepened with every their step.

“I swear, if I knew how fucking big it would be…” he began.

“Hey, hey, no need to apologize,” Nikki interrupted him.

“I wasn’t,” Mick flashed him an irritated glance. “I wanted to say I’d tell Chris to stuff his recommendations up his ass. I fucking knew he’s a survival games junkie. He gets a kick out of harsh conditions. Unlike me.” He stopped so suddenly Tommy almost collided with him. “That’s it. We’re making camp here.”

“Not that we have anything to make that camp with,” Tommy murmured, but wilted under Mick’s stern gaze. “You can sit on your backpack,” he suggested hastily. “Or on that rock over there-“

“Um, guys,” Vince, who wandered away during their conversation, spoke up from where he was bending over to the rock Tommy offered Mick to sit on, “you need to see this.”

“What’s that?” Mick shuffled towards him. When his gaze landed on the rock, his eyebrows flew up. “Holy shit.”

Mick and Vince’s troubled faces evoked a bad feeling in Nikki’s gut. The feeling of wrongness that hatched in his stomach ever since they discovered the backpacks were empty raised its head again, making him shiver. He almost didn’t step forward to look at the rock, almost turned away. Almost.

Run, the rock said in uneven, shaky handwriting, probably done with chalk, probably in a hurry. Run.

“What the hell?.. Nikki raised his head to meet Mick’s gaze, knowing he had no explanation for this, but still nurturing a stupid little spring of hope that the smartest of them, the oldest of them would be able to explain it. But Mick’s face showed nothing but bewilderment. And… what was that?

Tommy approached them quietly from the back, read the inscription and inhaled sharply through his teeth with a hiss. He said nothing. It was weird, but not weirder than this entire fucking thing.

“It’s a joke, right?” Vince said in a shaky voice. “It must be a joke.”

“I’d love to tear off the arms of whoever wrote this and shove them up their ass,” Mick muttered disgruntledly. “Not funny at all.”

Nikki just nodded, kneeling in front of the rock. He rubbed the word with his thumb, wanting to see if it could be erased easily. His thumb got a little dirty, but the writing remained intact. Nikki licked his finger and tried again, to no avail.

“That’s not chalk,” Mick said, frowning. “It would erase. Why the hell didn’t Chris tell me about this shit? Maybe he did it?..”

“I don’t think so,” Tommy said suddenly. “It looks old.”

“And the sky is orange here, do you think it really is in real life?” Mick cut him off angrily. Tommy bit his lip and stared at the ground, fidgeting with something in his hands. “It’s probably just a prank by another visitor. Well, good job, asshole, now you’ve got everyone worked up.” He turned his back to the rock. “Dunno about you, but I’m not gonna stand around this goddamn rock all day. We still need to get supplies somehow.”

“Yeah, right,” Nikki nodded, getting up and lining up with Mick. “Let’s go, guys. It’s getting late.”

“I’ve heard deserts get super cold at night,” Vince remarked. “We better find a shelter by the time the sun sets.”

They set off again, but the decisiveness that floated in the air when they just entered faded. Instead the tension and frustration returned, and there was a new one now - fear. The latter was completely illogical, Nikki tried to persuade himself, but all in vain – the icky cold lump in his stomach remained, gaining more thorns the more Nikki thought about the writing on the rock. Fuck, he definitely needed a drink. He could only hope the supplies would have alcohol – they usually did, allegedly for medical purposes.

Nikki didn’t know how much time passed. Maybe half an hour, maybe more. It was hard to determine with the sky the same orange color, the “sun” invisible behind thick clouds. Eventually, though, it began to get colder – Nikki only realized that when he caught Tommy shiver. Already sulky, Tommy now looked like a ruffled chick that just fell out of the nest.

Nikki was already thinking about suggesting calling it a night and making camp where they were when Vince broke the gloomy silence.

“There’s something ahead.”

Nikki squinted, staring forward. Against the sky, now reddish as the “sun” was setting, was a group of silhouettes.

“Those might be just mountains,” Mick said, barely trying to cover the exhaustion in his voice.

“They’re too upright for mountains,” Vince shook his head. “The sides are too flat. And anyway, that would be better than spending the night in the middle of a fucking desert. My throat is dry as a fucking sandpaper.”

“Whatever,” Mick threw his hands up. “We ain’t got nowhere else to go anyway.”

They headed towards the shadows in the distance. Although none of them was ready to say it, reaching something after an entire day full of sand already felt like a small victory. They might even find a cave to sleep in there, Nikki mused. Now even a rough rocky mountain soil was better than getting sand in their asses.

But as they drew closer it became clear those were no mountains. Though destroyed and decayed, those were buildings. Soon they reached a road – battered and covered in sand, but a road nevertheless.

“Hell yeah!” Vince smiled triumphantly. “Told ya we’re getting there!”

“Okay, okay, don’t forget to mark this date down. It’s not often that you turn out to be right,” Mick grumbled, but relief in his voice was obvious. Vince rolled his eyes, but did not say anything in return – maybe didn’t want to spoil the mood. Even Tommy cheered up. They sped up to reach the city before the night set.

It turned out to be farther than they imagined, and when they did reach the city, it was already night. Just as Vince said, the heat was soon replaced by freezing wind, so they weren’t feeling picky and headed to the first building on their way. The left half of it lay in ruins, concrete mixed with metal, crooked metal rods sticking out of the walls that were still standing. Nikki touched the concrete – it was cold and coated his fingertips in dust. The right half, though, remained relatively unharmed, apart from shattered windows. It even still had a door intact.

“With our luck, I won’t be surprised if the door is locked,” Mick muttered as he touched the door handle with uncertainty. It easily yielded under his touch. He carefully pushed the door.

A musty smell enveloped them, the dust in the air making them cough. It was dark inside, and the windows didn’t provide enough light to make out details – the night was moonless, and there were no stars in the sky, - but this just made the image more uncannily real. How did they make the dust covering the floor look like it hasn’t been touched in ages while the building probably had visitors the very night before them?

“I can’t fucking see anything,” Mick grumbled somewhere ahead. “Should’ve brought headlights.”

“There must be at least some loot in here,” Nikki tried to cheer him up. “Maybe there’ll be flashlights.”

“There might just as likely not be any,” Mick sighed. “But at least we won’t have to sleep in a freezing wind. Though it’s not much warmer here either, those goddamn windows-“

A loud crash followed by a yelp interrupted him. Mick and Nikki shot each other alerted looks and sprinted towards the source of the sound. In the corner of the room, there was a hole covered by a thin sheet of metal – apparently not strong enough to hold a man’s- Vince burst into the room, waving around a metal rod in his hand that he probably pulled out of a broken wall, - not strong enough to hold Tommy’s body weight. Nikki plopped onto his knees and peered into the hole. Vince grabbed him by the collar, to make sure he wouldn’t fall. It was so dark down there they couldn’t even see the floor.

“Drummer, you alright?” Mick called out anxiously, staring into the darkness of the hole intensely. A second of silence felt like an hour, Nikki’s heart skipped a bit. Then Tommy spoke from down there.

“Yeah… I think.” They listened intently to the rustling and creaking from down there as Tommy tried to get on his own two feet. “I’m al- oh, shit!” something heavy fell onto a metal sheet with a loud clatter.

“T-bone?” Nikki called again, but received no response. A little lump of anxiety in his stomach reminded of itself again as it began to unravel. “Tom, fucking say something!”

“Fuck,” Tommy finally hissed. “My knee hurts as shit.”

“Broken?” Vince tried to catch a look of Tommy, but the view of the hole was obstructed by two dark messy heads.

A few pained breaths later, Tommy replied. “No, I don’t… think so.”

“Can you stand?” Nikki jumped up, looking around the room for a ladder, or a rope, or, at least, a wooden bar to put into the hole. But the room was barren, apart from a few chairs looking like they would turn to dust the moment they’re touched, ruined bookshelves with burned black books scattered across the floor, and a broken computer standing on the only remaining desk.

The desk had three drawers and a cabinet. The cabinet was locked. The drawers were mostly empty, one even had a couple of dead cockroaches in it. Nikki almost overlooked a little cylindrical object in the corner of the lowest drawer. He carefully touched it. The surface felt like cheap plastic.

Upon closer inspection it turned out to be a flashlight. Nikki fidgeted with it for a bit and found a button, which he carefully pressed. The first couple of seconds it wasn’t lighting up Nikki’s heart skipped a bit; but then a weak ray of light shone through the dirty glass.

“Guys! Look what I found!” He dashed back to the hole, where Mick and Vince still stood, quietly discussing something. Tommy’s voice from down there joined them occasionally.

“A flashlight?” Mick raised an eyebrow. “And that’s all?”

“Well, do you want a stage projector instead?” Nikki snapped back. “This is better than nothing. Tommy, can you walk?”

“Not sure,” came a muffled reply. “Gimme a sec… Ouch.”

“So no?” Nikki frowned.

“Well, I can stand, but it hurtsб” Tommy reported. “Not sure about walking. I can’t see a thing, and there’s so much debris here, I don’t wanna break a leg on one of them.”

“Well, then I’ve got you covered, pal.” Nikki showed him a flashlight. Tommy squeezed his eyes, trying to make out what Nikki was holding. Then he beamed.

“Man, that’s great! It’s definitely a part of the quest, so we’re on the right track! Give it to me, I’ll try to look around.” He caught the flashlight thrown by Nikki. “Eh, man, they could have put better props here. This one looks like it��s from a gas station.”

“What, you think they would give you top-tier gear here?” Mick raised his eyebrow. “Be thankful for what you have.”

“Hey, don’t be so bitter,” Vince stood up for Tommy. “For all the money they get, they could have bought better props as well. This thing looks like it may kick the bucket at any moment.”

Nikki decided not to listen to their banter anymore. “Look for a ladder, or at least a rope,” he told Tommy and moved away from the hole to walk one more time around the room in case he missed something. He tried to sit in a chair, but it cracked so threateningly under him he decided not to tempt fate. Then he turned to bookshelves. Books were often used to hide clues; maybe that was the case here as well?

However, most books were burnt and battered. Nikki opened one, but the pages were so dark the text was unintelligible. Some of them were glued together, others torn. It was just another fucking prop, Nikki realized, flinging the book into the wall in frustration. Just a waste of a good book-

The book crashed into the wall and fell onto the floor, pages flying around. One of them was significantly lighter than the others. It landed right next to Nikki’s feet, as though inviting him to pick it up.

Well, Nikki rolled his eyes, for sure that wasn’t supposed to be a clue or something like that, not at all.

He picked up the piece of paper and turned it upside down. On it a few numbers were written, in ornate, neat handwriting. Must be a password or something. But for what?

Nikki turned around, and his gaze fell on a seemingly dysfunctional computer. Why did he assume it was dysfunctional first hand?

Nikki carefully touched the keyboard sprinkled with dust. They really did a good job making everything look old and abandoned. He pressed the space key, then ran his fingers along the keys, pressing many at once – no reaction. Then he reached out for the turn-on button. Also no reaction.

Oh well, it wasn’t going to be as easy as this, after all. Nikki stuffed the paper piece in his pocket and returned to the hole, where Mick and Vince conversed lazily. Judging by the occasional streaks of light landing on the walls, Tommy was exploring down there.

“Oh, hey, guys, it’s pretty nice in here!” he shouted, attracting their attention. “Is that a fucking potbelly stove?”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Well, I’ve only seen those in movies but it does look like one. And what are those…” his voice quietened for a few seconds as he was fussing with something. “Guys! There are sleeping bags here!”

“Really?!” Vince would have dove into the hole headfirst if not for Mick who grabbed him unceremoniously by the collar. “Hey, what the fuck, man?!”

“Who the fuck is gonna drag you two up then? My back won’t let me, you want Sixx alone to do it?”

“Well, if there are sleeping bags, then there must also be a ladder or something,” Vince muttered, ashamed. “Isn’t it clear that’s a checkpoint?”

“No, it isn’t,” Mick cut him off. “Not until we find a lad-“

“I found rope!” Tommy’s jubilant voice rang through the building. Mick, stopped mid-sentence, pursed his lips.

“Hey, Mick, do you think I should start a notebook to mark down when I’m being right?” Vince patted his shoulder, grinning. Mick shook his hand off.

“Bring it here,” Nikki said, looking around for something to fix the rope on. The table seemed sturdy and heavy enough, but they all were grown adult men as well. Nikki headed over to the table and tried to move it, to no avail. Maybe it was screwed to the floor for this very purpose.

“Hey, we can fix the rope to the table over here, if it’s long enough,” he suggested.

“Might work.” Mick glanced towards it and nodded. “Though I’m not a keen rope-climber…”

“Me neither,” Nikki tried to reassure him. “I always failed at it on the P.E. lessons”

“You had rope climbing on your P.E. lessons?” Mick raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Schools sure have geared up since I graduated.”

“We also jumped a bench,” Nikki recalled, “and did pull-ups on a bar. Oh how I hated it.”

“Y’all are spoiled,” Mick murmured. “All we had were a ball and the teacher’s whistle. A volleyball net, if the school was fancy.”

“Hate to interrupt your sweet chatter.” Vince suddenly appeared behind their backs. He already held the end of the rope in his hands. “But if I don’t get into a sleeping bag within five minutes, I’m gonna riot. You checked the table?”

“Yep, seems trustworthy.”

“Mick, your time to shine,” Vince offered him, the only one among them knowing how to tie a reliable knot, the end of the rope.

“You forgot a magic word,” Mick grumbled but kneeled in front of the table. “There are rope traces on this table leg already, so it must be the right way.”

“Are all clients supposed to hurt themselves falling through the floor?” Nikki wondered, kneeling beside Mick. He loved watching his rope work, though never managed to do it quite like him.

“You wanted adventure, you got it,” Mick replied, his fingers quickly working.

“Well, yeah, we all know it’s just an imitation,” Nikki shrugged. “A pretty good one, but still.”

“There wouldn’t be one if all those people didn’t actually want it to come true, even in part.”

“Well, I don’t,” Nikki resented. “I don’t want the world to fucking burn to the ground. And all those people don’t, too. They just want to… I dunno. Feel like movie protagonists for a while?”

“Movie protagonists always have a purpose. They don’t go out into the wild just because they love the wild that much.” Mick finished the knot and got up, cutting their conversation short. Nikki tried to follow him but hit his head on the tabletop.

“Ouch!” he fell back on his knees, checking his head for damage. Just as he reached for the sore spot on his head, he noticed a wire that was running along the wall of the cabinet and sliding into a hole on the floor. The wire was connected to the computer. Oh, so they need to fix it in the basement for the computer to start working, Nikki realized. That the computer was supposed to be turned on he had no doubt, or there wouldn’t be a password in the book.

“You alright?” Vince asked when Nikki crawled from under the table and got up. “We don’t need any more injuries here.”

“I’ll survive,” Nikki promised. They headed towards the hole where Tommy already stood with the flashlight, waiting for them.

“Wait a sec, I’m gonna move all those debris away,” he hurried to clear the floor under the hole, stumbled on something and hissed in pain. “Shit! I hope there’s a first aid kit somewhere here.”

“If you still can walk, then it’s not that serious,” Mick told him. “Not a fracture or a broken bone at least. Gonna heal in a couple of days.”

“Yeah, but where are we gonna get these couple of days?” Nikki murmured so that Tommy wouldn’t hear him. “Our time here is limited. We can’t just waste it waiting for him to recover.”

“What are you gonna do then, send him back?” Mick snapped. “Let him hobble through the desert alone, with no supplies?”

“Well, no, of course not,” Nikki mumbled ashamedly. “But we could… I dunno… investigate the location while he heals his ankle?”

“Yeah, and he totally won’t jump after us on one leg the whole way,” Mick said sarcastically, diminishing Nikki to a puddle on the floor. He didn’t bring the topic up anymore.

Vince was the first to descend, carefully sliding down the rope. Tommy, beaming, waved the flashlight around, demonstrating the room so proudly he as though had decorated it himself. A smile slowly widened on Vince’s face.

“Come look!” he called them. Nikki climbed down the rope so fast he burned the skin on his palms. Mick wasn’t that eager to follow; quite on the contrary, he stood up there looking around for a few seconds and then hurried out of sight.

“The hell he went to-“ Tommy began, but Mick was already back, dragging something clanging with him.

“We are gonna attract the entire local wildlife with the light and the voices,” he explained, breathing heavily. “Better cover up.”

“Oh, Mick, c’mon!” Vince laughed. “Who are we gonna attract? Actors are all at home sleeping at this time.”

“Some of them work night shifts,” Mick reminded as he carefully lowered his legs into the hole and wrapped them around the rope. He grasped the metal sheet he brought and drew it over the hole, leaving only a small crack. “And some of them aren’t people,” he finished once his feet were firmly on the ground.

Vince huffed, but did not continue the argument. And Nikki was thankful to him for that.

The shelter they accidentally discovered was small but neat. It was a little bit warmer here, without the wind, but the walls still couldn’t really protect from the cold. They were probably drywall, but they did look appropriate for the location - like old, weathered-down concrete. Even the smell was authentic, dusty and heavy. Four sleeping bags were laid out around the potbelly stove in the center, looking old but functioning. A pipe ran down one of the walls with a very convenient tap in the middle. Every now and then a drop of water fell down from the tap onto a small wet spot on the floor. In the corner there were some boxes piled up on top of one another, and in the other – wooden crate. The entire location was poorly lit by groups of green, toxic-looking mushrooms in the corners and on the ceiling. They looked so real Nikki had to grab and feel the material of one to confirm it was rubber.

“Were you in a real apocalyptic setting, this one could have burned off the skin on your fingers,” Mick muttered.

“Glad we aren’t,” Nikki said, words coming out a little bit strained. “Though there probably wouldn’t really be mushrooms glowing with radiation. Is that even possible? Won’t it just kill them, like any other living thing?”

“Nature always finds a way,” Mick said, kneeling on front of the potbelly stove and peeping inside. “Jeez, this one belongs in a museum. And we need coal or wood to light it up.”

“There were carton boxes in the corner,” Nikki nodded towards them. “What about a lighter? I hope we won’t have to use a flint or something.”

“I have one,” Tommy said from the corner where he examined the crate, fingers carefully running over the lid. He “I had to take out my sigs, but they didn’t notice the lighter.”

“That’s technically cheating,” Vince said lazily, already sprawled on a sleeping bag. “But practically you just saved us a lot of trouble.” He sat up, his shoulders twitching from cold. “Damn, it’s freezing here. Gimme the lighter.”

Tommy threw it over his shoulder in Vince’s direction, missing by a few feet at least. Vince caught it nevertheless – probably the only time his baseball school team skills were put to use.

“Don’t burn the entire basement,” Mick advised half-heartedly as Vince trudged to the boxes in the corner. Vince grumbled something unintelligible in reply.

The cracking sound from the other corner distracted them.

“Guys, I think I found supplies,” Tommy said, holding up the lid of the crate that he had just opened.

“What’s there?” Mick and Nikki rushed towards him. Vince looked at the box he held in his hands for a second, dropped it and joined them. “Any food?!”

“Well, those feel grainy,” Tommy brought a plain fabric bag to his eyes, dug his fingers into its sides. “Cereals, probably.” He put it back, picked up some other package and shook it. “Those sound like crackers.”

“Three cans with corn,” Nikki reported, rummaging in the other end of the crate. “And, uh, ramen,” He dug out a familiar-looking box. At least they removed the plastic wrapping that they have on in stores.

“Any fruit, veggies?” Vince peered over their shoulders. “No? Well, we aren’t gonna last long on such a diet.”

“We aren’t gonna stay here long either,” Nikki reminded him. “What did you expect from a post-apocalyptic setting, an all-you-can-eat buffet?”

“Nothing, man,” Vince retreated, “I’m just saying, we’ve seen plants and trees on our way here, some edible plants could as well survive too- uh, nevermind.”

“That’s all good and stuff, but where are we supposed to put them? I haven’t seen any plates here.”

“Over there, in the corner,” Mick headed to the farthest, most poorly lit corner of the basement, which Nikki overlooked at first, and with a clang pulled out a pot, rather old and battered, but seemingly without any holes. “But these need to be washed first, or we all will get poisoned.”

“I’m busy with the fire,” Vince immediately said, grabbing the box he dropped and holding it in front of himself in a protective gesture. “Tommy can do it. Or Nikki.”

“Guys, there’s something else beneath the food,” Tommy said, pulling out a yellow box with a black wire. “Some device?”

“Oh!” Mick’s face lit up for the first time during the day. “That’s a Geiger counter, if I’m not mistaken. Since we’re in a post-nuclear war wasteland, it’s gonna prove useful.”

“Does it work from the batteries?” Tommy turned it over in search of a switch. “Because there might be problems with electricity here.”

“It’s supposed to,” Mick took the box and examined it as well. “The limit for this one is 5000 mSv – uh, what are mSv? – and I have literally zero idea how dangerous it actually is. Did anyone read up on the theory before the quest?”

He received only confused mumbling in response.

“Do you think anyone else who completed this quest did?” Vince finally said defensively. “I’m pretty sure they weren’t experts on radiation either.”

“That does not excuse our ignorance,” Mick sighed. “Well, 5000 is a big number so if there is this much radiation, it’s not safe.”

They fell silent for a second, only Tommy kept rummaging in the crate. Finally, he fished out something with a victorious yell.

“Knew it would be here!” He waved a piece of paper in front of their faces. “Vince is right – they wouldn’t have given us this thing without explaining how it works. There are some numbers here – I guess radiation levels, but I can’t see them, it’s too dark.”

“Gimme,” Mick immediately snatched it from Tommy’s hands, receiving an indignant yelp in response. “Shit, I can’t see a thing either. Vince, what’s up with the fire?”

“This damn carton doesn’t want to burn,” Vince said from where he was kneeling in front of the potbelly stove. “It just chars.”

“Lord, why do I have to do everything myself,” Mick raised his eyes to the moldy ceiling. “Hold this and don’t let go for dear life,” he handed Vince the piece of paper. Vince pressed it to his chest in an overplayed protective gesture. A few curses later the carton finally caught fire from the lighter, and the flame started strengthening slowly but surely.

“Now, gimme.” Mick grabbed the paper and brought it closer to the fire, maybe a little bit too dangerously close. “Yeah, drummer was right. So, 2 mSv is what a person receives daily, 100 is what radiation workers receive in 5 years, 1000 causes cancer in 5% of people exposed… doesn’t sound too dangerous to me. 5000, though… kills a half.”

“Shit,” Vince commented laconically. “So anything above 1000 is a big no-no, we get it.”

“Pretty much,” Mick nodded. “How much is here, I wonder. Turn this thing on.”

Nikki reached out and pulled the switch. The arrow wandered a little over the bar, but never ventured into even remotely dangerous areas and finally stopped on 12 mSv.

“Well, that’s a little more than usual but still not much,” Mick concluded. “But we should be careful when advancing into the city. It’s supposed to have suffered a nuclear blast, and radiation will go up the closer we are to the center.”

“You think it will ever reach the limit on the counter?” Tommy asked, anxious.

“Don’t think so.” Mick waved his hand in the air. “But we gotta check it frequently, just in case.”

Nikki, who was silent all this time, finally spoke.

“I mean, it’s nice that y’all are enjoying yourself so much, but can we at least stop pretending that there’s actually radiation? This thing just shows what it’s programmed to show. There ain’t no radiation neither here nor in the city center. Where the hell would they get it from?”

Mick raised his eyes, examining Nikki with his piercing gaze. He wasn’t angry or disappointed – thoughtful, rather.

“Well,” he finally said a few seconds later, “there are two things to this. First – when in Rome, do as Romans do. Second – how do you know the radiation isn’t real?”

“How?” Nikki frowned, surprised by Mick’s answer. Mick’s, who was the most sensible of them all and the least prone to stupid illusions. “Because this ain’t real post-apocalyptic wasteland, and these walls are built out of drywall, the sun is a lamp and the mushrooms are made of rubber!”

“And what is radiation made of?” Mick asked. “No, really, how can you fake radiation well enough to deceive a Geiger counter? Because the counter is very real, we’ve been given those at school”.

“Well, then it’s programmed to show what it shows,” Nikki retorted. “And we can’t actually prove it’s not lying.”

“Nor that it is,” Mick replied. “Of course, this is all just a big game of pretend, Sixx. But it doesn’t matter that everything here is fake. We’re gonna take the counter with us anyway; even if it’s lying, its data will show us what places to avoid, since it’s been programmed, as you’re claiming. It was left here for a reason.”

“I guess,” Nikki sighed, turning away. He didn’t know how to explain that their interest and excitement was a little bit too fake in its genuineness. He knew how quests worked. He has completed them many times. A couple of riddles to solve, a couple of actors dressed as zombies to “kill” with laser guns. The ultimate satisfaction upon reaching the end – and after that, all-encompassing boredom again, again, until the next dose of adrenaline.

And this one is going to be just the same. Should be just the same.

Oh god, please let it be just the same.

“Anyway,” Mick broke the silence first. “I’m putting this thing in my backpack, but we’re gonna take it out regularly to check radiation level. Now, I don’t know what about you, but I’m hungry as hell, and the dishes question still stands.”

“Nikki should do it,” Vince said immediately, receiving an “et tu, Brute” look from Nikki. “Since he’s such a wet blanket.”

“Yep,” Tommy quickly counted the odds and sided with the right people. Nikki shot him a death glance. Tommy smiled sheepishly, but didn’t take his words back.

“Well, then go on, Sixx,” Mick handed him the pot, and Nikki wanted to put it on his friend’s head. With a loud bang. “We’ll sort out the rest of equipment while you’re busy.”

The water from the tap was cold, but seemed clean and only smelt a little of metal. Nikki rinsed the pot and the plates he was handed, not quite thoroughly, but the others were too hungry to notice. Meanwhile, Vince and Tommy dug out of the corner three empty plastic bottles, tastefully rumpled to look old, but nevertheless functional. As hard as they tried, they couldn’t find any cutlery, though. Apparently, desert rogues in a post-apocalyptic landscape were too down-to-earth to eat with spoons.

Soon they were sitting around the potbelly stove watching the water heat up terribly, terribly slowly. Nikki never paid attention to how much time it takes to heat a liter or two of water. This fire was no match to his electric kettle back in his apartment. But that was probably why kettles were made anyway.

“So, what do we have?” Mick spoke again. He didn’t seem to like the role of a leader much, but this quest was like no other – without him, the other three would have probably given up by now. “Three packages of cereals, four packs of crackers, three cans of corn which we’re gonna eat right now, a pack of noodles, the Geiger counter, a flashlight, sleeping bags, a pot and four plates and three water bottles.” He sighed. “And not a single medical item. That’s not much. Drummer, how’s your leg?”

“Hurts,” Tommy said honestly. “But like, more in a dull, pulsating way. I can bear it. I can walk even. I won’t make you wait, I promise.” He was nervous, his eyes darting between the other three, checking their reactions. “Just don’t send me back. This quest is so much fun, I don’t wanna miss it.”

“Okay, okay,” Mick raised his hand in a calming gesture. “Nobody was going to leave you behind anyway, right?” His eyes stopped on Nikki, and a frown was sent his way. Nikki huffed and turned away.

“Thanks, guys,” Tommy said with visible relief. “I took one for the team to find this amazing place, after all.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a hero,” Nikki reassured him distractedly. He was getting cold: he could feel how icy the floor was even through the fabric of the sleeping bag. “D’ya wanna light up the fire a little bit? It’s freezing here.”

“You can try, but I tell you, that won’t be enough,” Mick shook his head. He was sitting hugging himself on the sleeping bag, his feet propped up right against the stove for more warmth. “These boxes don’t burn hot enough. We’re gonna need coal or lighter fluid. Which we don’t have.”

“Sucks,” Vince murmured, for the first time in a while. That was strange – he was usually the most talkative one of the bunch, challenged only by Tommy.

Nikki leaned in to him, examining his face anxiously. Vince looked at him tiredly from under his eyelashes, but didn’t move back. His lips were of sickly bluish color, his fingers grappling the folds of his jacket, fruitlessly squeezing them together, unnaturally white.

“Are you alright?” Nikki whispered to him. Vince jerked his head towards him, a sarcastic retort ready to drop from his lips – but then, a tired sigh replaced it.

“Is that really so noticeable?” he whispered back. “I mean, you guys don’t seem to be bothered by it much. But Nikki, man, I’m gonna turn into an ice statue soon. I can’t feel my toes already.”

“Shit,” Nikki ran his gaze across the room again, hoping to find something, anything that could help. But, apart from the trash in the corners, discovered nothing new.

“Get in the sleeping bag,” he said finally. “At least put your feet in it. And take my jacket. Corn’s gonna be done soon, a nice hot meal will warm you up. And we’ll put together some kind of tea after that-”

“Hey, chill, man,” Vince smiled slightly. Nikki felt the tips of his ears warm up. “I ain’t taking your jacket, I don’t want you to freeze to death. Just… I dunno. My hands are so cold…”

“Here,” Nikki moved so close to him their knees bumped together, gently wrapped his hands over Vince’s wrists and guided his hands under his jacket, where his body warmth collected. They felt like ice chunks even through his t-shirt. Vince sighed with pleasure and closed his eyes. Nikki caught Tommy chuckle quietly and made a scary face towards him. Tommy raised his hands in pretended surrender.

Everything was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

The corn was consumed in tired silence. Thanks to the potbelly stove, the room did warm up slightly after a while, and a meal after a long day of walking made them all drowsy. By the rules, they should have left a guard up, but none of them dared to suggest it, afraid of being the one picked to watch. And what could get them in a basement of a destroyed building in the middle of a desert?

A lot, it turned out later, but that night they slept soundly, still happy in their ignorance.

#motley crue #motley crue fanfiction #vinikki #vinikki fanfiction #nikki sixx\vince neil #mick mars #tommy lee #nikki sixx #vince neil #post apocalyptic #post apocalypse #post apocalyptic fiction #wow look at me actually putting something out as though im not a loser who hasnt updated in 4 months #i dont know what this is. i dont know where im going with this #i just know that this is and im writing it #and i dont know what im gonna write next right until my fingers hit the keyboard #war?

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coffeeflavoredcookies · 3 years

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Krbk Multichap Fic Recs

The order doesn’t particularly matter. The ratings also vary, so be careful and make sure you read the tags to know what you’re getting into! Also, they are all completed.

Anyway, here we go !

Tonight we’re the sea by idratherhaveyou. (Artist Bakugo, Kirishima moves to the seaside! It’s so damn good! The writing, the characterization, the feelings, the story! The Everything!!!)

But I’ve got an angry heart by newamsterdam. (Dormmates, College AU! Baku wants peace, Kiri wants to make friends! Very good! A little (lot) angsty, but like honestly, VERY good)

Slow it down, go easy on me by newamsterdam. (Time travel AU that’s got everything to make it perfect. A marvel <3)

The fool’s rush by Chonideno. (Future AU! Roommates. Mutual pinning. Lots and LOTS of pinning. So fluffy you’ll cry)

Something just like this by imatrisarahtops. (such a feel good fic, following the themes of the krbk week 2018. Pinning, comfort and getting together)

The best part is falling by Claus_Lucas. ( (Bakugo’s had enough of Kiri not understanding his own feelings. It’s hilarious and cute)

You give me a quite mind and I’ll love you by Claus_Lucas. (the boys do lot of figuring out after the rescue, it’s good)

When you’re in love with your best friend by ellieb3an. (5+1! Bakugo realizes he’s in love with Kiri! It’s real good)

When you’re in love with your boyfriend by ellieb3an. (the long distance relationship that’s gonna melt your heart (the sequel) )

Coming up for air by ellieb3an. (Kiri learns to cope with the trauma after getting stuck in his own quirk, it’s very emotional and so so good! A++ caring baku! It’s amazing!)

Easy now, with my heart (careful now, with my heart) by multiclassmaps. (or how their classmates figure out they’re dating, very good!)

All I knew I could ever need was in front of me by multiclassmaps. (Married pro hero with a dog, perfectly fluffy and warm)

So take my hand, you life will be brighter by multiclassmaps. (hockey AU, amazing! Absolutely amazing! A must read! And reread!)

your heart's a mess, you won't admit to it; I'm desperate to connect- and you- you can't live like this by multiclassmaps. (unrequited love that’s not actually unrequited. So? Damn? Good?)

To the tune of Bakushima series (mostly canon compliant. How Baku and Kiri went from being Friends With Benefits to properly getting together. amazingly well written and just go read it!) (rating varies!!!)

Slow and steady series by Siij. (They get together. They figure things out. This is amazing, and the writing is great and the fluff!! Also, ratings vary)

Perihilion by tauontauff. (a blessing, a true blessing, soft, sweet, heart-melting. Christmas themed!!!)

One step closer by tuslee. (angsty, Bakugo gets in a car accident, his road to recovery is slow and difficult. Katsuki and Ochako friendship centric)

Burn like the sun by Kivea. (Firefighter AU! amazing Bakusquad interactions, I cried at times from how much I laughed! It’s great <3)

Crow’s feet by PotatoJesus. (Established relationship, future AU! really soft and sweet)

Heart stains on the carpet by cityboys. (bodyguard AU, the fake dating AU that started them all! cityboys is just amazing)

2AM by cityboys. (Bakugo goes back to his home town and is forced to work in his mother’s café. It’s cityboys, just read it)

Fucking feelings series by Equinurmae. (Hilarious, Baku and Deku friendship, Baku goes full gay panic and asks Deku for help)

I’ll save you myself by Obesessed_As_A_Coping_Mechanism. (very sweet and kinda gets hot at the end)

Just another sexuality crisis at midnight by PaperTrees. (I don’t know how to describe it without spoiling it, but it is AMAZING!)

Stuck in the blast zone series by Nickolefricle. (the interactions are AMAZING, and the little stories are really REALLY good)

Spring a season about love by Tears are salty. (kmjr and krbk and bkjr friendship. Very cute)

Today is not good so far by generic_handle. (Established relationship. Kiri invites Baku for night out with their friends but for some reason, it sets the blonde off. very funny)

2AM knows all secrets by Unbrekable_Red_Riot. (Baku has nightmares, Kiri helps. It’s REALLY good. Also, slight one-sided kmkr)

Kiss me you fool by Shizuumi151. (it’s a series of independent one-shots. Very sweet. The ratings vary)

Of fading Light and cooling space by SilentKnight. (Kirishima thinks baku is dead for 80% of this. Very painful. Very good)

Acceptance and denial by Poteto. (Kiri drags Baku into his attempt at coming out to his parents. It’s Very good!)

Friday I’m in love by mcgreys. (The one where Bakugo thinks Deku is in love with him and hilarity ensues)

Anyone can be a hero by RedBluePalatar. (Future fic. The one where a certain video forces kiri to give up hero life, until he meets Baku again a couple of years later. Very good!)

Nightmares aren’t explodable series by PurplePersnickety. (Or the one where Kiri is cranky. I can’t say more without spoiling but go read it it’s really good!!)

Everyone knows that cats are indepandant by PurplePersnickety. (the daemon AU where Kiri works in a coffee shop and Baku has a Lioness as a daemon! It’s so good!!)

Rosy by mr_todoroki. (the one where Baku steals Kiri’s first kiss and our cutie catches feelings!)

Red by mr_todoroki. (And they were roommates! Kiri is discovering things about himself and Baku does not like his new friend).

Sunchaser by Chonideno. (Denial of feeling?? Mutual pinning?? A lot of feelings? Like looking through a fogged glass? Very beautiful and poetic! An absolute must read! My heart still does weird things when I think about it!)

A heart swelled to bursting by eggstasy (established relationship. Lots of Bakuangst but also Baku growth. eggstasy writing a multichap, do you even need convincing, my dudes)

Cause the dark’s not taking prisoners tonight by imatrisarahtops (they’re both having nightmares and trying to help each other. Lost of angst but it’s so good)

This ain’t a fairy tale by alpha_hydra (kiri gets hit by a quirk that makes everyone fall in love with him. Baku is already in love. Smutty)

Moment of truth by Fanficismything. (the proposal AU. It’s really soft! You see it as Baku falls in love! It’s really good!)

Breath of the wild AU by Stylish_Racoon (as the title says. Bakugo is Link, Kirishima is Zelda and sometimes I wish I could wipe my memory just so I can experience it again)

Broken Bridges by DeathBelle (Kirishima comes back from aboard and they work together. Smutty)

Quote love unquote by newsamsterdam (it’s the fake dating celeberities AU we all want, it’s perfect, it’s a must read it’s everything)

Of Ghosts and other Inaccurate Things by chezka (Kirishima never made it to UA because he died and now he’s haunting Bakugo or so they thought. Listen, It’s really really good!)

The Magic Song by Zacksy (the cindrealla AU we all needed! A really sweet fic)

In the Kingdom On the Sea by deviance (Kirishima is a Kraken Merman (a REALY big one) and Bakugo is a pirate that’s madly in love with him)

Inevitable by Legendaerie (Pro-heroes, partners, Bakugo taking care of Kirishima and showing his love through that while Kirishima remains oblivious! It’s really good, like really insanely good with all the right fluffy feelings)

Ransom in Red by Shippeh (sort of cindrella AU that’s really good)

Sun Sets Red by Shippeh (College AU where kr and dk are roomies and Bakugo’s the hot not-boyfriend that came attached to Deku. It’s really good)

Heartbeat Thunder by Shippeh (ABO in UA where Kirishima is an Alpha that hates his secondary gender and is afraid to rut and Bakugo is an omega who relies too much on instincts and doesn’t believe feelings matter.

Built to Fall by bigstupidjellyfish (Post break-up pro hero krbks become partners and fight villains and mend their relationship and finally, FINALLY fuck! It’s very good )

there's a space here shaped like you by kingdoms (Fantasy Bakugo lands on Kirishima’s lap (figuratively) and Bakugo is jelly! Very good)

you can get what you want or you can just get old by hyperlight (Bakugo gets hit by a quirk that sends him to a future where he messed up everything and lost himself to become the number one (and still never managed it). Kirishima in this word is a really badass hero that doesn’t give too fucks about rankings! He’s super mature and harder but gosh I’m in love.)

half in and half out of the light by gangnamstiles (Kirishima gets discharged from the army, but he’s got a lot of scars left from his time there, Bakugo’s a rock throught it all, and so are their friends. They were a band before adulting, and now they’re tryna put it back together. It’s really emotional and good)

Worth a Thousand Words by awareoftheconcept (Kirishima thinks Bakugo is dating Camie and jealousy ensues but their friendship is so sweet it don’t really matter, plus they make it in the end. Did i say the way their friendship is portrayed is everything? They just REALLY love each other. I love this fic with my whole heart)

Out of the Slipstream by Ashii Black (ashiiblack) (and AU where th boys are professional cyclists and this Bakugo’s really hot and also they soft with some jelly Bakugo, very good. E rated)

Burden of Proof by kytrin, Mslead (it’s murder mystery with magic and romance and a great relationship development! It’s really really good! Mind the rating tho!)

In the Dark of the Night by arxaris (Katsuki’s the emperor of rome and Kirishima’s a Gladiator that catches his eyes. It’s a sort of fwb that evolves into something more because these boys can’t resist each other. It’s sweet and hot, very good all around.)

From Fire and Ashes, Flourishing by Milligramme (Bakugo’s a volcano god and kirishima’s the priest that gets chosen to «worship» him. They fall in love, it’s very good)

nuclear seasons by qactus (The lifeguard AU we don’t deserve. It’s a slow burn and it’s so damn good. Rated E).

the great wide somewhere by amaranthinecanicular (Beauty and the beast AU. References to the fantasy AU from the popularity polls that are integrated to the story so well. It’s just. Very very good)

Just a Few More Minutes in Heaven by loki_dokey (Bakugo is in love with Kirishima, everyone knows it except for him (including Kirishima) It’s very VERY good)

Eyes Like Dragon-Fire by Dragonire (and excellent fantasy AU slowburn. The world building is amazing and the developement of their relationship is great. It’s really good!!) Rated M

CALYPSO by gummyconcrete (No quirk AU, where they try to figure out their feelings in the few months they’ve left before graduation. Lots of feelings)

Bakugo’s Diary by Gyashi (It’s a sweet little story told in drawn diary entries)

Freshly Ground Coffee by arxaris (Cute barista!Kirishima PH!Bakugo AU)

Demon Kirishima Loves His Human by deviance (A series of connected one shots that deal with Demon!Kirishima and Not so human!Bakugo. Very good)

#kiribaku #bakushima #krbk #fic recs #krbk fic recs #i'll update it as I go i guess #long post

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zankivich · 4 years

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An Unexpected Romance: Chris Evans x Black! Female Reader Part 2

a/n: this one was really fun to write. I’m back in my bag tbh. These are some cute characters if I do say so myself. Like everything I write I feel like this could be a fully blown multi-chapter fic. Also it’s finna get smutty so I hope you’re prepared for that. Let me know what you think? K bye.

WARNINGS: Smut, softness, too much cuteness?

Part 1 Part 3

The call comes two days later. Not that he leaves any room to be forgotten. No, Chris had texted you bright and early the next morning to thank you again for giving him a chance, and to apologize if he’d been in any way aggressive. You were quick to reassure him there’d been no aggressiveness on his end, certainly not any that was unwanted. He was a good texter, happy to provide details about himself, and to notice the details you, yourself, provided.

Chris: What are you up to this morning anyway?

Y/n: I had an early meeting with the company I just signed on with for a project I’m spearheading, and now I’m in my office preparing the debrief on that meeting which will be presented at another meeting.

Chris: Wow. Sounds intense. What do you do for a living?

Y/n: I’m a senior level consultant at a consulting firm. I basically just get hired to tell folks what they’re doing wrong and how to fix it. Then I leave before they fix it.

Chris: Ah so you liked to be in control huh?

Y/n: I...trust my gut, and my gut has yet to lead me astray. I only make decisions I believe in.

Chris: And what is your gut telling you about me y/n?

Y/n: It’s telling me to keep texting you even when I shouldn’t. Even when I’m busy. I like the things you say.

Chris: I like that. My gut is telling me you’re important. I can’t really explain it further than that. I just think we could be really good together.

You bit your lip, eyes roaming over the words in the message a few times. It was sweet. Damn him all to hell.

Fast forward to the next day where you’d spent all day outside of the office meeting with clients. He caught you in the middle of your lunch break between bites of sandwich that wasn’t very good. You’d put his name in your phone as just Chris, and yet when his name flashed across the screen the letters may as well have been hieroglyphics. It took you ten seconds just to get your shit together.

“Hello?” You swallowed into the phone, trying to manage an up-beat cadence.

Chris was like honey through the phone, as if the weight of the conversation was nothing to him.

“Hello. God, I gotta tell you it’s good to hear your voice. I thought I was starting to lose it in my memory for a second.”

You chuckled. “I’m sure it’s been exceptionally trying for you.”

“It has, it has. So perhaps you won’t think I’m being too pushy by asking you out tonight?”

You moved the phone just far enough away from your ear to wordlessly praise the lord to the air. Or whoever was up there.

“Um...tonight, huh?”

“Yea do you already have plans?”

“No, no. I just have a pretty long day ahead of me. I might not be able to make an early dinner.”

“Well that’s okay. Dinner isn’t even what I had in mind. What if I picked you up at, say eight-thirty? Would that be enough time?”

You bit your lip. “It would...Can I ask, if we’re not going to dinner, where are we going?”

“Now that....is a surprise. Send me your address, I’ll be there at eight-thirty sharp.”

“Oh lord. Okay I guess I’ll see you then.”

“I look forward to it.”

It took you a moment to remember to put the phone down. Men were usually very simple. Dinner, usually somewhere they can order a steak. They like to do dinner on the earlier side, give them ample time to order drinks. The more drinks they order the higher they believe their chance of sleeping with you goes up. In all your years of “grown up dating”, you could count on one hand the amount of men who had offered to take you somewhere other than dinner on the first date, and never had that place been alcohol free.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was more that understanding men; their preconceived notions, their inadequacies, their mentality etc. was about safety for yourself and for others who may fall victimized. The patriarchy was toxic afterall and perhaps no one knew this better than Black women.

And yet Chris seemed to be evading your expectations, and not for the sake of keeping you on your toes. It was as if his aura existed outside of your expectations all together. He didn’t need to trick you, or convince you. He was just himself, and that self was perhaps better than the vast majority of men you’d met in your life. Could that be? Was it really possible? It seemed like you’d find out regardless.

***

Large hoop earrings are truly a staple piece for any iconic outfit. Without the dread of a formal dinner, you were excited to play with your wardrobe a little bit. There was a beautiful pastel pink camisole that matched a floral set of pumps quite perfectly. The slicked back ponytail and the knitted cardigan are simply added bonuses. Ya girl looked good as per the usual is the moral of the story.

By the time he knocks on your door there’s a giddiness to you. Grownup dating seemed to lack a certain excitement at that point in your life. Oftentimes priorities didn’t match up, men didn’t say what they really wanted, or truly were after. But it really did seem like Chris just wanted to show you a good time. And as much as you were trying to keep the walls up and stay smart, you couldn’t help but be hopeful that he might prove you wrong.

“Hello.” He smiled warmly at the threshold. “You look beautiful.”

Your brain had short-circuited. This was basically nuclear warfare and you were not having it! He was wearing a thin black sweater that stretched tightly across the firmness of his chest. There was a level of scruff that was absolutely tantalizing, and the way his eyes were one step away from twinkling like an anime character was a reality that suffocated you with the weight of it. It was truly too much. This man looked straight out of a factory. The wind had been zapped from your sails. Dammit.

“You look...really good yourself.” You hummed. “Like, unnaturally good actually.”

He only laughed wild and carefree arms coming up into a shrug.

“I gotta keep up with you somehow, right? So you ready to go?”

“Yes actually, let me just shoot a quick text…” You mumbled, swiping your fingers across the screen.

y/n: Okay we’re leaving the house. Remember if I don’t text back for an hour without stating why to track my phone.

Raya: don’t worry girl ain’t nobody gone call the police on captain america. Yo black ass wouldn’t make it a second

Jesse: Me and my cousins will ride up there swinging if need be. You just say the word mija

Tanya: or not word….cause the girl might be dead????

Jesse: Oh...you right

Y/n: okay BYE NOW

Usually the group text for dates was centered on safety and precaution. You had a feeling this one was going to be fully for them to clown your ass for the rest of the night.

Chris gets the door for you, and it’s easy to note immediately that you’re sliding into a tesla. The fact that it looks like a spaceship on the inside is a dead giveaway. But the car is warm and the second he slides into the driver’s seat, his large frame takes up precedence in the vehicle. His non-driving arm lands on the middle console sending parks of heat over to your seat with stark intensity.

“So, you’re still not gonna tell me where we’re going? You know that’s like prime serial killer talk right?” You noted.

He smiled again, this wide grin that seemed to transform his entire face. It seemed infectious just to look at him.

“Gosh you’re totally right. I’m so sorry. If it makes you feel any better, we’re heading towards the city and not away from it. It’s a public place, I promise.”

“Okay Chris. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt...for now.” You teased.

He looked over at you instead of the road.

“I like the way you say my name.”

Oh chile….

“Mmm. Noted.”

There had been a certain energy the night you met. It had existed in the non-existent space between your bodies as he held you against his chest. A sort of aura that pulled you, pulled the both of you in. It had felt a little overwhelming then, but to know that it existed now within the small confines of the car was another thing entirely. Your body tilted in the direction of his unconsciously, your elbow propped on the console directly next to his. You were drawn to him. And the good news was he seemed to be too.

You were both confused and happy to see him steer clear of the usual Beverly Hills or Hollywood spots. Where does one such movie star as Chris Evans take a woman on a date anyway? Your girls had discussed everything from WolfGang Puck to the Rosevelt. The sun was sinking low and heavy in the sky as night began its arrival. As he navigated you to the Santa Monica Pier you felt the giddiness from early wreck havoc in your belly. It was so far from anything you could have ever expected in the best way possible. All the nerves of being with this guy you really liked sort of melted away and gave way for excitement.

“The boardwalk huh?” You grinned out the window.

“Yea. There’s great street food, games, views. I figure it’s pretty tough to have a bad time here. Increases my chances of you agreeing to a second date.” He smirked.

You laughed a little louder than your flirting giggle and turned to face him straight on.

“Oh so you already plotting the second date now!”

He laughed right along with you.

“Sweetheart I’m on date number four up here.” He pointed to his forehead.

“Sheesh! Well I don’t want to disappoint, but I played point guard in high school so if we find some hoops I’ma have to put your ass to shame.”

“Oh she’s trash talking me already ladies and gentlemen!”

You were already taking your seatbelt off and reaching for the door handle. It was the most excited you’d ever been on a date, couldn’t even remember the last time someone took you some place to be goofy and play games. You typed your destination into your group chat and told your girls not to bother you. It was finna be a night.

It comes to no surprise that you end up at the arcade. He buys the tokens, you buy the beers. And then...it’s on.

“I want to start by saying that I am firm in my masculinity. Basketball is not my game, and I stand by that.”

You rolled your eyes around your beer and quickly took off your cardigan to free your arms.

“Boy, put the tokens in the machine and quit playing.”

He only grins at you so sweet it makes your teeth hurt.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Side by side in front of the basketball arcade game, you each take shots at the swinging net. Unfortunately there are no bonus points for fine looking biceps while missing shots. This leaves you to crush your opponent--date, whatever--by over twenty points. Though Chris was “firm in his masculinity” this did not stop him from being competitive, so he quickly threw more tokens into the machine and tugged the sleeves of his too-tight sweater up his arms. He makes a shot while you just stared at him, a little dazed. You only beat him by eight that time. Rude.

“Okay,” Chris panted. “I lied. I do play basketball. I like to think I’m pretty good at it too, but you definitely just kicked my ass.”

“I was MVP all three years I played. It’s not your fault.” You giggled.

“You play in college at all?” He asked as you took your beers and moved on to a new game.

You shook your head. “I went to Howard for both undergrad and my masters. We’re D1 and I wasn’t that good. I got an academic scholarship instead.”

“So brains and a killer arm? Anything else I should know?”

“Hmm...I have an irrational fear of mice? I found a mouse once in my kitchen when I was a little girl. I got so scared that I literally fainted.”

“Brains, killer arm, faints at the side of mice. So, I guess Cinderella for date number two is out.”

You placed your arm on his shoulder as you laughed. The sheer volume of muscle was not lost on you, nor the way your mouth salivated in response. Woops.

“I’d be down to watch Ratatouille. That’s my favorite food movie ever, I think. I guess animated equals not so scary.”

He smiled and let you keep your palm on his shoulder for much longer than was necessary.

“Duly noted. Shall we?”

Chris beats you in skee ball, and you beat him in some random zombie shooter game. Eventually he lets you lean on him to take your shoes off so that the two of you can do a dance revolution game. It’s silly and awful, and you laugh the entire way through it. There’s more arm touching and at some point he finds an excuse to touch your waist again. The way you bite your lip and stare up at him is only interrupted by the squeal of children’s laughter. There’s an increase in your heart beat that can’t be explained by the physical activity of the game alone, and the heat in his eyes is not nearly PG-13 enough.

“Should we uh...go get a snack or something?” You mumbled still peering up at his lips.

His grip on your waist only grows tighter, and you swear it’s past them kids' bedtime.

“Sure, why not?” He grins before slowly letting you go.

Sweet jesus.

It’s only when there’s a foot of space between the two of you that you can breathe normally again. But then he reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers. Breathing is clearly overrated.

You buy two different flavors of icecream to split and find a bench tucked away in the lights of the pier to keep talking.

“So what about you?” You asked between globs of cookie dough.

“What about me?”

“I know what you do for a living obviously but like...Where are you from? Do you have siblings? What’s your favorite food? How do you take your coffee? That kinda shit.”

He beams at you and holds a spoon of his rocky road to your lips. You hold eye contact as your lips wrap around the spoon. His lips part just barely and you know you’re not the only who can’t get a grip tonight. Good.

He clears his throat. “I’m originally from Boston, but I grew up in a town like thirty minutes away called Sudbury. I have two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and an older sister. They’re all much smarter than me I promise. My uh father remarried so I’ve got some half-siblings too. I can break out the family tree sometime if you want. I really enjoy seafood. I think it has something to do with where I grew up. I take my coffee black.”

“Boston, eh? LA must have taken some getting used to.”

He chuckled. “I still don’t think I’ve gotten used to LA. I have a place in Massachusetts. It keeps my mom happy, and makes it easy to go home. I’m between projects for now, but its easier sometimes to just be here for the talk shows and the meetings and what not. I’ll be honest it’s been looking up lately though.”

Damn him and his ocean eyes and his dumb dumb smile and his stupid facial hair. And...now he’s putting more ice cream in your mouth. Diabolical.

“What about you? From DC to LA?” He asked.

“Ugh it does feel pretty cliche, I know. I never in a million years though I’d live out here. It’s tough cause all my family is east coast as well. When I was fresh out of grad school I got offered a job at a firm out here. The salary and the benefits were some of the best of my class. I couldn’t really say no. And now I mean...you saw me and my girls. I found community out here. It’s scary to think of losing that.”

“Hey that makes sense. You’ve made a life for yourself here. That’s really admirable.”

“Yea I guess. It helps to live away from the worst of it all. And I suppose LA does sometimes come with perks.” You smiled in his direction.

“I could not agree more.”

*Meanwhile in your phone*

Raya: what do we think? Is she still alive?

Tanya: Girl please. The only thing that girl is at risk for is a good dicking.

Raya: sljgdlkfgjkl you goin to hell

Jesse: Should we take our bets now?

Tanya: I’m putting five on the captain throwing her back out TONIGHT

Raya: I’m putting ten on y/n holding out just to be stubborn af

Jesse: I’m with Raya on this one.

You walk through the sand together with his arm wrapped around your shoulder. There’s everything from playful jabs to probing questions to heavy flirting. At some point it transcends the innocence of a first date. Perhaps it's the moment when he offers to carry your heels so you can feel the sand between your toes. Or the moment when you tell him something funny and he laughs into your neck till all you can feel is the rumble of his chest and the warmth of his skin. Maybe it’s the feel of his fingers untangling your hair from your cardigan when the wind traps it. There’s a softness to him in all his overt physicality. He thumbs at your chin playfully and smiles down at you. It’s not just softness then. It’s tenderness too. And you melt into him.

“Hi.” he whispered till you smiled.

“Hi.” You whispered back.

“Can I kiss you by chance?”

Your arms slide closer wrapping firmly around his neck.

“Absolutely.”

If his chest is rock-hard muscle then his lips are the antithesis of that. The kiss is soft and yearning when he wraps them around your own, and his hands ain’t bad either. Before you know it you’re wrapped up in him and he in you until there’s no clear discernment of where one begins and the other ends. But it doesn’t matter when his tongue is just as teasing and probing at his personality, and you fingers scratch roughly through the strands of his hair.

The only thing that could possibly bring such a perfect moment to an end is the need to breathe. You pull away with a stuttering gasp, and he hides his face in your neck with a whine that awakens a whole new fire with you.

“Wow.” He sighed.

“Yea...Wow.”

You blinked a couple of times to try and bring yourself back to reality and out of...whatever the hell that was.

“I should uh--I should get you home right? You had a long day.”

He squeezed at your shoulders before pulling away and you swore it was colder without him near. As the night suddenly hurdled towards a close, you felt a sense of longing. You weren’t quite ready to let him go yet, and the anticipation of being without him was already wreaking havoc on your nerves. The only good news is he holds your hand the entire walk back to the car, and his shoulder makes for lovely resting space.

The car ride feels like a fraction of the time it took to get there. Perhaps it's because you know each other better now, have a taste of what it’s like to be next to one another. Like a junky you were hooked. White, Black, or green, there wasn’t anything that could stop you from wanting to be near him. He was infectious, and he’d gotten himself directly under your skin.

“Could I walk you to the door?” He asks.

“Please.” You nodded.

You take smaller steps as if that will make it all go slower. And a grin forms slowly on your lips when you notice his much lengthier legs attempting to do the same. It’s the kind of PG-13 shit you’d never really experienced before. How pathetic that the second you got just a tiny bit of it you were practically begging for more.

The light beneath your door illuminates the movement of your bodies. You turned with your back to the door to face him, aware for the first time that you’d been smiling for a while, that you had no idea how to stop smiling.

“I gotta say I had a really great time.” You murmured. “Thank you for the effort and the fun and...the kiss.”

“That means the world to me. All I wanted was for you to have a good time. Honestly I think that was the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

“You know, I think that was the best first date I’ve ever been on as well.”

He smiled widely at you. “Good. So now we’ve set the bar so high that it really only makes sense for us to go on another date right?”

“I think I could be up for that, yea.”

“Could you be up for another kiss?” He teased.

“Could you be up for coming inside?” You countered.

His eyes widened at that, the intricate game of you both keep each other on your toes unfolding. You weren’t even sure where the idea had come from. You certainly hadn’t planned it. At some point you realized you had to go inside, and the thought of him being on the other side of the door just didn’t feel right.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose if you’re tired. I know your work day was long.”

You nodded eyes skimming from his ankles to his hair.

“Suddenly? Not so tired.”

“Me neither. Let’s go inside.”

That’s what you thought.

You unlocked the door to your place leading him into the living room.

“Um make yourself comfortable. I just gotta let my girls know I got home alright. Do you want anything to drink?” You asked.

“I better not. Still gotta drive home.”

There was something about his lack of confidence about getting laid that had you pausing in the kitchen. Few men had ever made it past the threshold on the first date. The threshold may as well have been a neon arrow towards your vagina. Not that you’d decided to have sex with him. Of course not...

Y/n: I know y’all are not placing bets that center around my pussy. Get a life.

Raya: Girl I’m married with two kids and you just went out with Chris Evans. Your life is my life. Don’t take that from me.

Tanya: Now sis, why are you texting us when there is some red, white, and blue DICK to be had.

Jesse: djdflkjgdf

Raya: lmao. She got a point. Did he drop you off?

Y/n: He did.

Tanya: Annnnnnnnnnnd?

Y/n: Annnnnnd my date ain’t over. I simply must be going. Night night!

Your phone began to erupt with buzzes in your palm. You quickly set it to silent to ignore the peanut gallery and headed back to your date.

Chris was in your living room staring at a photo you had set up on the wall. It was you, your mother, and your little brother all wrapped up in each other from your graduation the second time. The fact that his ass was poised like a piece of fruit begging to be plucked from the tree is a secondary detail.

“Is this your family?” He grinned. “You look just like your mother.”

You stalked closer, ready to be in his space again, and smiled.

“This was for degree number two. I’m the first to ever get a master’s, and my mom couldn’t stop crying the whole day. This is the only picture I had where she wasn’t obviously in tears.” You hummed.

“That’s beautiful. She’s got so much to be proud of. You’re clearly an amazing woman.”

Most may have tilted their head in shyness, maybe looked at the ground and ignored the compliment. Such a cliche. You had learned long ago that the most radical, most self-loving thing you could do was believe your own hype. Others will rarely do it for you. Chris seemed to be the exception to many rules.

You raised your chin proudly. “Thank you. Every ounce of it, I get from her. I can assure you of that.”

“I believe you. Mothers really are the superheroes of the world, no pun intended.”

You reached for his hand slowly, heart warming at the way he instantly went to intertwine your fingers. He was truly nestling himself inside your head, your walls coming down one by one. Silence pursued as you led him towards the couch, his eyes raking over every inch of you as you moved. As his back hit the couch, you stepped out of your heels. His legs were deeply parted and the thickness of his thighs looked like the perfect seat. It didn’t help the way his hands were gripping his thighs like an invitation. That knot that sometimes appeared in your belly when he was around tightened.

“Can I sit with you?” You hummed.

“You can sit anywhere you’d like.”

His voice had suddenly gone husky and deep, your eyes fluttering wantonly at the sound. You were mostly definitely going to take him up on that.

You placed your foot on the space of the cushion right next to his thigh, and used the leverage to climb yourself into his lap. His hands immediately came to rest on the small of your back pulling you close, close, close.

This kiss is better. Much better.

Whatever gentlemanly urges he’d proudly displayed throughout the night, quickly gave way to a new urge, a hunger that boiled hot for each of you. It was the same feeling you’d felt when he first caught you at the bar, multiplied by a million. His facial hair rubbed tantalizing along your jaw as he kissed and bit and marked you with reckless abandon. Your fingers turned to fists in his hair and tugged sharply. The moan he released in response had your hips bucking up against his.

“God, come here.” He muttered against your throat.

His too-large palms went from your back to your ass and suddenly he was tugging you rougher, firmer, right against something firm of his own.

“Oh shit.” you whimpered thighs tightening around his waist. “Touch me.”

His lips began a trail from your neck down your cleavage, beard scratching up the flesh until your back was arching in lust.

“Take this off.” He demanded with a tug to your cardigan.

No problem there.

“You next.” You whined and reached for the bottom of his sweater instead.

Your camisole joined the rest of the pile on the floor and suddenly his tongue was finding the patch of skin right between your breasts. Wet didn’t begin to describe what you were experiencing in that moment.

“You’re fucking gorgeous you know that?” He huffed.

Your fingers gripped at his knee for leverage and you leaned back just enough to give your hips room to breathe. And move.

“Fuck.”

You giggled at Chris, your hips sliding against his in the most amazing rhythm.

“I like it when you lose that little nice-guy thing you got going on. What else do you got hidden from me, Chris?”

His hands moved to the thick of your thighs and squeezed hard until you lost your own grip of self-control.

“I think you like to take the reins. I think every part of your life is carefully constructed to your liking. But I’m starting to wonder what it might look like if you lost a little control, y/n. Do you think I could make you do that?”

Your eyes, though hooded with the overwhelming emotions he was making you feel, found a way to burst open at his words. Because in just one single night he saw you. Saw you in a way that you had not willingly given out. There was an armor that you put on to walk out into the world, something intentionally crafted to keep you safe. How had he disabled it in just one night? As sexy as it was, it was also scary. Were you ready to let him take control?

“Look if you wanna make me lose control? You better have something damn good to show for it, sir.” You grinned.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay.”

And just like that you were being lifted into the air like a spaceship taking launch. A man had never lifted you with such ease since you were a child. A grown ass woman of your size wasn’t just thrown around like a rag-doll. Dainty had certainly never been used to describe you. And yet, Chris had managed to stand with your legs and arms wrapped around his like a kola to a tree. His hands on your lower body only throw you further out of whack. This shit was insane. And your pussy was transcending physics with how wet he’d manage to make you.

“Can I take you to bed?” He panted, breath harsh against your lips.

You groaned. “God, yes, boy scout. Please take me to bed.”

Your bed seems perfectly crafted for two, or maybe that’s just the feel of him sucking at the skin of your pulse point. His tongue is suddenly everywhere. On your neck. Below your sternum. At the jut of your hip. He strips you of your jeans and falls victim to the slim space between your thighs. His palms now work on mapping them expansively but not without exploring the thin piece of fabric that separates him from the wetness of your inner folds. All it takes is the tip of his nose to rub against the pubic mound, right above your clit, and you just kind of lose it.

“Holy shit! Please. Just please.” You whined, hips bucking closer to his mouth.

A grin descended upon his face that held all of the cockiness of a man who was sure of himself. It was the first time he’d ever looked like that to you. And lord was it hot.

“Sweetheart listen to me.” He said smoothly. “I’m gonna make you cum now. But you gotta be good for me. Can you do that?”

Your lips parted in shock. What does one say to such a thing?

“Okay.”

He’s not interested in torturing you, at least not this time. As soon as you promise to be good, his tongue snakes out of his mouth and he’s on you. Firm flicks of his tongue and hard sucks of his lips quickly leaves your underwear sodden. It appears he has no interest in taking them off, and you might just care if it weren’t for the way he was rocking your body. Most men couldn’t find a clit if there was a neon sign pointing to it. Chris finds it like it's his damn address. He sucks and licks and drools until your thighs pulse, until your back arches, until your body feels poised like spring begging to break.

Your fingers dig into the meat of his shoulders trying desperately to pull him closer. You’re not gonna make it.

“I--I gotta...I gotta cum.” You huffed.

He nods while he’s eating you out and takes your statement as a direction to slip his fingers between the soaked material of your underwear. You’re so wet that there’s barely any hit of tension as his finger slides deep inside of you. You can hear it now right beside the desperate pants of your mouth, the crude slip of his fingers digging into you, searching and pumping. He curls it just right, touches that place, until you can’t breathe, until your bursting for him like an overripe fruit.

Your body throbs and pulses as the orgasm rocks its way through you and he never moves, just licks away your release with the same intensity. When you collapse, he lays his head against your thigh and grins up at you with wet lips and a wet beard and eyes completely void of anything but tenderness.

“Oh fuck off.” You whined pushing your hand tiredly against his face.

He chuckled but absolutely did not fuck off. Instead he took to placing kisses along the skin of your inner thighs as if he was rewinding the coil inside of you so that he could make you come loose all over again.

“You done?” He hummed nosing at your pubic bone. “We can be done, just let me know.”

“Really?”

“Of course, really.”

You bit your lip and watched him for a few minutes. His fingers were drawing patterns on your leg, his lips feeling like they shot sparks all across your skin. You wanted him bad. Whoever said consent wasn’t sexy hadn’t had Chris Evans in their bed obviously.

“Come up here.”

His eyes finally left the dream of your thighs and locked with yours. He trailed slowly up your body, thighs and arms bracketing either side of you. Your back arched involuntarily until your chests touched. He kissed you long enough for the taste of yourself to get lost in your own mouth. His facial hair still scratched hotly at your flesh.There wasn’t anything you wanted more than for him to destroy you in that moment. So that’s exactly what you said.

“Chris?” You mumbled against his lips.

He immediately backed away. “Yea?”

You reached over to the drawer of your bedside table and grabbed aimlessly for protection. The condom wrapper fell into his hand and your legs came naturally around his waist.

“I’d like for you to wreck me...please.”

It didn’t sound like a question. It was much more a demand than a plea. But your boy scout aimed to please. And please he did.

“I can do that.”

Suddenly when Nicki Minaj said You’ll never catch me in a light-skin nigga’s bed, it took on a whole new meaning. Surely she meant light skin like Drake, and sis definitely had a point. But... surely Nicki couldn’t hate you for the choices you made that night, and all the ones you’d go on to make for this man in particular. After-all, it was technically your bed.

buy me a ko-fi?

170 notes · View notes

classysmashy · 3 years

Text

Easy Living, This Ain’t

#1/??? of Nuclear Winter

ZoNa Holiday 2020 Entry Prompt 1 (Snow Angel / All Wrapped Up)

@zonamievents

One Piece in Fallout Universe (kinda~)

AN: I’ve been playing Fallout 4 a lot and couldn’t help but think about what it would be like for One Piece in the universe, so please enjoy this snippet. Also, I haven’t done any creative writing in nearly three years and I ask for forgiveness if its rough. This piece isn’t heavily on about them being together just yet, though I plan to write more for the prompts and expand this better. Worked on this for about five to six hours straight to try and get it done in time, but it’s late. I’m still gonna squeeze my entry in though, hopefully! :)

Rate T for Blood, Violence, Suggestive moments

Word Count: 5,788

*****

I never regret The years that I’m giving They’re easy to give When you’re in love I’m happy to do whatever I do for you

There’s something about being within inches of death that suddenly makes blood rush faster and for all the words that hadn’t formed to break through the flood gates. Maybe it had just been the adrenaline talking, a need to achieve certain feelings before dying off and becoming one with the scattered waste of the world.

But, Nami would have only been lying to herself to try and pass that off as the reason as to why her lips shook out a hasty “I’m in love with you” towards Zoro’s direction before the last swing from the Deathclaw rattled the right side of her skull, sending her in the air through a concrete pillar and hot blood dripping into her eyes preventing her from seeing Zoro’s reaction to the words.

Because there was truth in the statement, though she was unsure of when during the six years of traveling with Luffy that the feelings had started. Had it been so early as to their first meeting? Seeing him face off Arlong along side their friends? Or maybe the time apart had built an unknown longing for two years that was finally becoming clear to her in the past few months?

Thoughts race like blood when you think you’re going to die. Nami had seen that in the time Bellemere died, how she had pushed to voice courage towards little Nojiko and Nami. This time was different than Bellemere, she had died being a protector to the end, and Nami would die because of her own rookie mistake.

As her eyes slipped closed from the world, it seemed Zoro had finally gotten serious and she could just barely make out his voice over her busted eardrums, but she did.

“Don’t die on me.”

*****

Living for you Is easy living It’s easy to live When you’re in love And I’m so in love There’s nothing in life but you

Nearly twenty hours earlier, Nami had very different plans for the day.

There was plenty of work to go around at the Strawhats main settlement; crops to be harvested, buildings to be constructed, purified water to be gathered, defenses to be fixed... And that was only here!

She had awoken just before four am had hit, the sun still hidden deep in the clouds, and Nami had decided that the weather would be alright for the day and that the impeding snowstorm would hold off for another day or two. The first thing on her agenda had been to check on the mikan trees and see if they were well.

Franky had created plenty of special greenhouses throughout their compound for Nami to keep her mikan trees safe, along with Robin’s flowers and Usopp’s pop greens to grow safely. She didn’t necessarily mind the thought of the mikan trees being among the other garden beds around the settlement, but she did worry about if people would only go to them for food rather treating the trees with upmost respect that Bellemere would approve of, let alone take care of them properly.

After three pulls on the door handle, Nami’s bedroom door finally gave way for her to exit it —Franky said that was the downside of working with rusty wasteland materials, maybe she could hire someone to look for newer, untouched supplies to get an upgrade. Though, by the head of swaying green before her, it wasn’t even her strength or the willingness of the door to give up, but rather Zoro who had forced the wood into action.

“Yo,” casual as ever, Zoro leaned on the wall opposite of Nami as she slammed the door back into place, not in anger, but the damn thing was too much trouble!

“I didn’t know you were back yet,” Nami rested her hands in her hair, combing it into a tangled ponytail, she could only manage to place her eyes at his nose, looking too closely into Zoro’s eyes lately brought on a heat she couldn’t control. If she kept her hands busy, they wouldn’t give away the noticeable shake and she could hold back the need to run away. “The way Brook talked, it seemed as if the raid would take longer.”

Zoro gave a curious peer towards her, tilting his head down as if that was the way to suddenly unearth what was different in the moment, “Well, it was supposed to, but Brook really wanted to add those instruments to his collection and threw any caution out the window.” A sly smirk stretched his lips and if Nami knew any better, she would say that was the truth, but a half-truth at that.

“And you also got lost, heading dead-center into their manpower?” Nami gathered her own smirk as his slipped to a scowl, the fire snapping to life in him and gearing up for their usually banter.

“Shut up! I wasn’t lost, the hallways kept changing their direction, I can make my way around fine without anyone else!” Zoro chewed out at her with more venom than necessary for her small comment.

Nami’s left eyebrow lifted, as she crossed her arms across her chest and cocked her hip out towards him, “Besides being here to tell me your prevarication, you came to see me for something, right? Your room is on the floor below this one. AND, whatever it is, is going to cost you, surely you don’t mind me raising your debt, hm?” She gave a cheshire grin that didn’t match with the sweetness her tone was tinted with, giving way to her true feelings as her brown eyes glinted gold.

The threat of a higher debt seemed to sour Zoro’s mood even more, “Don’t even think about it.” The reverb of his voice in his throat caused a twinge at the base of her spine and the gathering heat pulled Nami’s eyes to look into his finally, a pair of steel that seemed set on unraveling her. “You can take up your charges with Chopper, since he’s the one that wants the two of us to head out and gather something for him.”

His hand rested beside her head and the small height gap between the two was noticeable now, though she was unsure of the moment he had made his way so close to her own body, trapping Nami against her bedroom door.

That heat that wouldn’t go away was flooding her, she could barely keep her breathe together and she definitely wanted to run as she dug her nails into her palms to gain the last of her control to keep from sprinting.

The air hung tense for a moment, like Zoro had been sizing her up for some reason, his only good eye tracking the nervous jitter Nami’s body gave off. While his observation’s of her was making things worse, she found that by standing her ground she could regather herself and ducked beneath his arm, leading the way towards the greenhouse garden where her mikan trees resided.

He followed beside her, watching the way she smoothed her hands along her jeans with a hawk’s stare. Yes, she very much wanted to run away right now.

Yet, she couldn’t run. There was few people that Nami would deny if they asked her of something and that few included Chopper. “So, what is it exactly? It must be something quite important if Chopper wanted to hound on you right after getting back and pretty far if he’s wanting me to guide you there.”

“I’ve been back for two days, maybe you would have noticed if you didn’t avoid any area that we could overlap in,” Zoro had noticed more about her lately than she was hoping he would, and the pinched ire he held back somewhat showed he wasn’t pleased.

“I’m not avoiding anything!” Nami frowned as she balled up her fists at her side with a huff, “I’m a busy woman around here. It can’t be helped that when I get pulled into ten million directions that I don’t end up in the ones that you were lost in!”

Distracted by the jab at his sense of directions, Zoro seemed to drop the subject of her actions with the need to yell some more about how the world was just switching itself around as he walked, not that he could possibly be lost.

By the time the two had stopped bickering over it, Nami was punching in a button and the refurbished garage door was squeaking up to reveal her mikan trees in their full beauty. She inhaled a deep whiff of the scent that hit, and her mind seemed to relax completely as she took it in. There was no arguing, or someone needing her, or a world probably crushed beyond repair that was needing fixing. No worries, no overwhelming heat or tingles in her spine, just the moment of a far away home she couldn’t return to, a mother that was beautiful and gone, a sister that was picking at her.

It was nice to get lost for a second. But the sound of a sharp inhale beside her knocked her slightly out of it, turning towards the one who had made the noise to see Zoro... nervous? His hand clutched at his swords and his eyes were caught on her lips, her neck, her blissed out eyes. Nami could tell he was holding back, what that was she had no clue about, but her trance was completely broken, even as the heat reared its head again.

Zoro seemed to be stuck in the moment with her, the world around them having dropped far away. “Don’t avoid me,” his voice broke through the silence, his calloused hand coming to clutch her cheek and stray his thumb across her lips.

So close, too close.

His thumb dipped between her lips and she hummed a noise of commitment to him as her tongue slithered to give a drowsy lick to the digit. Nami’s mind raced yet was empty all at the same time, the intensity of Zoro’s gaze burned into her, and there seemed to be only one way this encounter could possibly end.

And it probably would have, with the way Zoro leaned closer, his other hand popping the button of her jeans.

Alas, there was still a world around them though that kept moving even when they were lost in daze.

The tiny pitter patter along the concrete gave away the incoming target and Zoro had half a mind to veer back the words he wanted to use as the reindeer grew closer.

“Another time,” Zoro had whispered to Nami, fixing the button and creating a healthy, normal distance between the two as if what happened didn’t occur at all.

Nami had to admit that she was in a bit of stupor as Chopper finally gave way under the closest lights of the hall to them, a jolly smile breaking out across his face as to seem he’d been searching for a bit for the two.

“Oiii!” Chopper shouted in delight, fastening his pace towards the two and inhaling the nice scent of the mikan’s. Chopper was too cute to allow something so indecent to happen in the presence of, “I checked for Zoro in his room and then tried to find you at yours Nami, but both of you were gone. I figured Zoro was lost somewhere, so I came to check here. What good luck I have!”

Though Zoro protested at the prospect of him being lost, the two still gave warm smiles to Chopper, Nami offering a soft scratch to the top of his head, partly to ease her shivering, but also as a small congratulations to the animal doctor.

“So, why were you looking for us, Chopper? Could it be about this thing you wanted us to go out and find for you that Zoro mentioned to me?” She peered down at him and his expression grew serious, it seemed today really wouldn’t be focused on getting work done around the place after all.

“Yeah, I wanted to catch you before you left. As I told Zoro, I’ve been doing a lot of different experiments and part of those experiments is using the blood from feral ghouls and I’m starting to run low on stock. Law told me about this group of scientists that had taken shelter in a factory on the other side of the state who were also doing some experimentation, but got killed by a pack of Deathclaws that have been living in there since. He’s sure that they made up nearly a hundred packs of feral ghoul blood.” Chopper had shrunk back down to his small size while talking and Nami had a frown on her face that deepened more and more as he told her the scoop of what he believed just the two of them could take on.

“He’s also wanting us to bring back the claws of the Deathclaws there, if possible,” Zoro interjected, his arms crossed over his chest now and leaning against the edge of the open door.

“Chopper, that’s nearly insane! Sure, Zoro could take on such a feat, but it would be a death sentence for me!” she was frazzled at the thought of getting stuck in a pack of Deathclaws who could easily tear her to shreds in an instance if they so pleased.

“That’s why Zoro should go with you! I believe that you could sneak in and steal the blood packs before the Deathclaws know you’re there, but if anything were to happen, Zoro could fight them off to protect you,” Chopper’s idea was rock solid and there was the chance she could do it, she had done it before a few years back, but that was sneaking around only one of them, not a bunch that most likely contained their children.

“Well, I guess it could possibly work out-” the gears seemed to finally scratch together in her head and she whipped down at Chopper with her hands on her hips and teeth sharpening with her words, “WAIT! Don’t tell me that you were planning for ME to go ALONE if Zoro or someone else wasn't available to go as well?!”

Chopper cried and jumped to hide behind Zoro’s legs, though he hid the wrong way to have part of him sticking out. “Like I said, I believe in you being able to easily sneak around without alerting them, but Zoro was the one who said that somebody should go with you, so I asked him and then he tried to say he could find it on his own, but there’s no way. He would definitely get lost and end up on the other side of the globe! Don’t you understand my predicament, Nami?”

He was giving her those big, watery eyes and her heart started to crack for him. Of course Chopper couldn’t leave as one of the main doctors around and on top that everyone was either gone or too busy with dealing with all the settlements they helped out to gather supplies for Chopper’s side project. That really did leave Nami, Zoro, and Brook, and he probably made the plan while the two guys were gone, leaving the task as something Nami would have to carry out.

A hefty sigh left her chest and that heat and tingles caused by Zoro seemed to completely disappear as her mind already began to gather ideas of the best and fastest routes to take across the state.

Nami straightened her back and closed her eyes to contain the last of her angry, “Alright, I guess it can’t be helped then, huh, Chopper?” She gave a small, tight smile to the tiny reindeer and made a mental note to try and trick Sanji to check in with Chopper in the future so he would be sent out on his suicide missions rather than her.

Chopper’s ecstatic shout echoed along the hallway, pulling the bag off his back to shove plenty of Stimpaks in Nami’s palms and then Zoro’s. “I made up a lot just in case you guys get in tight situations. These things can heal in a punch, but don’t forget that the best for the body is proper rest, diet, and caution.” The last part was directed at Zoro, by the way she had seen Chopper give a sharp doctors gaze at the man who was putting away the healing items with a bored look.

“Yeah, yeah, no worries. Don’t worry Chopper, we’ll be back by tomorrow night and without using any of these,” Zoro smirked proudly at the reindeer whose eyes were the ones to be glinting this time, the shining stars nearly bursting out to show his high thoughts of Zoro.

With a whimper, Nami rang her hand across her face. Just what had she gotten herself into?

...

And did he say Zoro was the one to volunteer to go with her?

*****

For you Maybe I’m a fool but it’s fun People say you rule me with one Wave of your hand Darling, it’s grand They just don’t understand

It was nearly eighteen hours since they left the compound, her mikan trees all nicely taken care of, and an awkward air of silence created between the two. Well, it wasn’t necessarily awkward, but more of an overwhelming tension that was making her feel awkward as it dragged on more with nothing happening between the two of them.

At this point, Nami’s lips were worn away in all the wrong ways. She had been biting on them out of nervousness and she had also slide down a hill and smashed her face into a rock. If there was one thing to pick out from that accident just than Zoro’s laughing being the only time she had seen him show emotion since leaving, it would be the prospect of bad luck could be looming after the first incident.

The factory that Chopper had told them of seemed to be an old food packing plant, she gazed up the rusted back garage doors and to the very few windows the looming structure seemed to have. Zoro beside her did the same, since getting within half a mile of the place, his hand had been firmly planted and unmoving atop of the hilts of his swords.

The closest window to the ground that Zoro could possibly boost her to was near the left side and she waved her hand for him to follow over to it. He positioned himself to be right under it and readied his arms to toss her up enough that she would get through the window.

“If something goes wrong, yell,” there was a joking smile on his face, as if the thought of the signal being her scream rather than the obvious racked of Deathclaws going crazy would be what it would take for him to know she was in danger.

Nami rolled her eyes and shifted the weight of her bag to even out on her back, giving a few rolling huffs of air to prepare herself, “Yeah, yeah, let’s just get this over with,” she grumbled and pushed her body into his waiting grip.

Zoro’s right hand taking hold of her thigh and his left hand pushing into the belt of her jeans, sliding his thumb beneath the fabric for just a moment pop her panties on her hip, tossing her upwards as she gasped. The idiot was confusing her with each of his whims today.

Her hands gripped onto the creaking window frame and let herself drop through, positioning her body in the air to fall safely. As Nami’s feet had hit the ground, she kept a still stance and held her breathe, taking in the surroundings around her, finding that she was nicely alone in the space she landed in.

Feeling that the coast was clear at the moment, she kept a crouched stance, taking steps over the destroyed conveyor belts that was missing teeth mark shaped bits that were strewn across the room. If Chopper wanted Deathclaw claws, that could wait until another day after she found out how many were here and they could properly plan a strike, rather than race in and sustain more injuries than necessary.

As she shifted through the plant, trying to figure out where the lower stairs would be —Deathclaws liked being below the ground after all and that would be the most likely place that they would be and where these past scientists hid the blood from any prying hands— her mind drifted to Zoro.

Today had been confusing and all because of Zoro. She wasn’t used to his outward reactions towards her, let alone the thought of a mutual lust between the two. What exactly had changed so quickly during the past week for him to put himself out there and ready to jump Nami?

After working through four different room, picking up some canned food that could be put to use back home, the stairs finally appeared before her. And just beside them was a slim wall holder that contained a worn map, a big score for stumbling around in an abandoned place like this.

“Bingo,” she whispered to herself, fingering through the pages as quietly as the paper crinkles would allow, finding that there seemed to be two higher levels, the main floor she was on, and three basement floors beneath her.

That meant there was three floors she would have to crawl through in the hopes of finding these feral ghoul blood packs for Chopper and three floors of potential Deathclaws with however many that she didn’t know about. Nami’s skin broke out in bumps, worried sweat sliding down her chin, down her neck, and hitting the bare skin of her breasts. She was starting to regret the bra and tank top, but anything more and the sound would have given her away.

She pushed down the stairs, heading to the first basement floor to check through it.

Zoro had been so confident to undo her pants and take her right in the hallway where any of their friends could easily walk through and find them. The idea of such an occurrence brought the tingles back to her spine, Nami’s mind swirling around with just what he might do if he had seen that sweat, how his lips would fiercely attack the space of her breasts.

Half of this floor seemed to be clear so far, she dimly noted, nicking some metal scraps that were resting in a shipment of boxes. They were probably waiting to be unloaded and used to fix something in the plant before the nukes dropped.

The next set of stairs wouldn’t be too far and Nami knew that she should probably keep her senses in check, but Zoro just had to reignite that heat once again before she came in here.

It should have been gross, licking on his thumb like a kitten, but it was hot and the little bit of salty sweat residue tasted nice on her tongue. She wanted more of that, more of Zoro, but it was risky to think of anything past a nice romp in the bed. Though she didn’t take him as the type to hit and that be it, yet the thought of him having those same confusing feelings that laid past friendship or family or lust was odd.

Love.

The hints of feeling in love had been creeping through Nami’s mind for over seven months now and on top of that, Zoro caught on to the fact that she had been trying to distance herself from him to keep out any of those kinds of feelings taking a hold of her and rendering her a victim.

There was nothing wrong with being in love. She was so happy for Usopp and Kaya every time she saw the two of them in that special bubble of theirs.

But, the thoughts of how much harsher it would be to lose that person after taking that step into a different boundary, the pain of losing the only one who got to see you so intimately, that would be much worse than just losing close friends and family. She didn’t want to go through another death like Bellemere’s ever again.

So caught up in her head, Nami hadn’t even realized she found herself on the second basement floor until the smell hit her nose and she dived behind a desk decked with a busted up computer terminal.

Her breathe got stuck in her throat, a tiny whimper slipping out of her hands she covered over mouth.

She had been right about the Deathclaw children.

There had to be a dozen adult Deathclaws alone and over half a dozen of the children on this floor. In the past, the Strawhat crew had met a few friendly Deathclaws, but that was a different case than now. The way they growled, slinking around the room and sniffing, there was no doubt in her mind of the hunger that was in these Deathclaws. But, there was another stench of a smell she had recognized as well.

Peaking beneath the sliver of the desk, across the room there was stacks on stacks of labeled feral ghoul blood packs, just as Chopper had heard from Law, but it seemed that a few had gotten busted open and the smell of irradiated blood was mixing with the Deathclaw’s and creating something foul that made her stomach twist in sickening flops.

No matter where she seemed to look, there would be no way that Nami could reach the blood by sneaking around Deathclaw’s there was just no space to hide behind to reach the blood packs and any direction she went and the time spent grabbing them would only lead to her being noticed and most definitely killed.

Maybe if she could get back out and to Zoro, she could lead him into here to clear the place for her to gather the blood packs, or at least distract them long enough. But, there was no telling if there was more in the last basement floor and how many compared to the amount that was around her now.

With each second passing of her being on the floor like this, it was becoming apparent to Nami the predicament she was in.

Especially so when a throaty growl was too close to her ear and she could feel drool drooping along her leg.

Screwed, so screwed.

She had half a mind to actually turn and look to the predator, it’s mouth hanging open before her and the fangs glistening with saliva from the swinging lights above.

Her lungs burned from the scream she let out, the Deathclaw’s arm swinging down to crush the desk, Nami narrowly escaping the bloody death with a quick roll of her body. Hopefully the idiot Zoro had heard her, though she was uncertain if it would reach so far above compared to where she was in the basement.

All of the Deathclaw’s on the floor now had a nice eyeful of her spread out along the floor, like a snack before dinner for them, and below she could hear the rumble of more feet and claws racing to tear into her and make her bits.

The Clima Baton she had grown so used was being worked on by Usopp and so he had given her an overly upgraded laser pistol, but there was no way a laser pistol could get her out of this mess. Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, they were the types to be able to get themselves out of this situation without worries, but Nami wasn’t them.

That was why the moment she raised the pistol, a Deathclaw rushed from behind and sent her flying into a wall. The wall of blood packs she needed to get. No doubt was her left leg broken and the pumping blood was driving the Deathclaws insane with thirst. There was a slight distraction though, as Zoro finally burst forth, bringing out all three of his swords and slicing right through the first one to attack her.

Nami knew that she should probably get somewhere safer, but the reason they were here for Chopper came first. Zoro could take care of the Deathclaws and she could get the blood.

She whipped around her bag, throwing the flap open, and pushing the blood packs in by the arm full. There was a Deathclaw rearing itself up for an attack at her, but she almost had them all in her possession and Zoro would take care of it, right?

But, it’s claws still came racing for her, tearing away the tattered tank top in the first swipe and cutting open her stomach with the second.

“Nami!” She could make out Zoro calling out to her, but she couldn’t see him beyond the rush of the lower floor Deathclaws surrounding him, the space of the whole floor seemed to be taken up by the creatures.

Hope was growing dark for her.

And that was how Nami had gotten into this moment.

She sent her secured bag to Zoro through the Deathclaws, and prepared herself for this to be it. It was one of those moments that her brain just wasn’t thinking properly and death seemed inevitable now.

Even though she was scared of loving someone, scared of dying, scared of ruining that person she loved, Nami broke out into one more smile.

“I’m in love with you.” Zoro’s face peaked through the wall of Deathclaws and her words reached him, she hoped, as the arm of the nearest one swung into her, giving her a final look of its stretching skin tinged pink, the bent horns of a devil, and the foot long claws that hurt like a bitch.

The concrete pillar it launched her into could have been nice, save for the fact of her head not being wrapped around it.

Zoro’s voice echoed out to her as her eyes slid shut.

“Don’t die on me.”

*****

Living for you Is easy living It’s easy to live When you’re in love And I’m so in love There’s nothing in life but you

It was with a harsh thumping in her head, that Nami had awoken to a delicious warmth enveloping all over her. Such a nice warmth that she couldn’t resist nuzzling herself deeper into it, the feeling of her ear brushing over prickled skin like a scar.

A scar...

“Oi, you finally came to,” Zoro’s voice was low, even, though she didn’t miss the way his chest shook with a relieved sigh he seemed to have been holding in.

“Mmm, everything hurts,” Nami whined and cracked her eyes open, noticing first that Zoro was missing the top clothes he had on earlier then realizing that she was now wearing his jacket along with fabric wrapped around her head, waist, and leg. “Isn’t this a bit much?” she mumbled, shifting her body to get a better view of his face.

“What’s a bit much is you forgetting that Chopper gave you stimpaks to use and then proceeding to throw your bag at me,” he glared down at her and she sighed, that was right, she did have medical supplies that would have helped her, but she instead made the decision to be an idiot.

“Sorry... I was.. too caught up in my head,” Nami had tilted her gaze away from his as it was piercing her too much and she needed a relief and when she looked around them, the bodies of all the Deathclaws that had been crawling among the basement was dead now and their hands and feet were missing the claws. “At least you got the other part of why we were here, huh? Chopper will be happy.”

“He won’t be happy to see you in this state knowing he was the one to send you out here,” Zoro’s hand cautiously came to rest on the top of her head, stroking her orange locks at a steady pace. “Love, huh?”

She could hear the way his lips curled around the words and a blush crawled over her cheeks at the thought of her hasty confession. Nami raised her fist, slamming into the side of his head with a screeching “shut up” accompanying it.

But, the hit did nothing to rid Zoro of the teasing smile. “I guess trying to take pages out of Brook’s philosophy was all wrong,” he whispered thoughtfully, laying his lips to hers for a brief moment of fireworks, but he pulled away too quickly for her to enjoy it.

“Eh? Brook?” She let her head fall into a tilt as Zoro gathered her up into his arms in a bridal style, lifting her up and throwing both of their bags into her lap. Nami guessed that now she was awake and he knew she was going to live, he was fine with getting out of this place.

“Yeah, he was saying that when you try to go after a woman, you have to be over the top and come on strong,” a smirk strung across his face and a chuckle echoed around, “and then you will definitely get into their panties.”

Her eyes nearly rolled out her head, “Oh my god, seriously?! That’s why you were suddenly coming onto me? Cause you wanted to get me out of my panties? I didn’t realize that you and Sanji actually were so similar,” she poked at his buttons to tease him. Of course she should have known he was going by what someone else said.

“Oi! Don’t compare me to the shitty cook!” His foot rose to slam through the rest of the garage door that hadn’t been cut up and as the shanty metal clattered on the ground, piles of snow could be seen rising along the hills before them as more fell down from the sky.

Her smile drooped a bit, “I’ve been out for a whole day?”

Zoro sighed behind her, pulling her in closer to keep the cold away from her body, “Yeah, but it doesn’t seem you’re too bad off.”

“I guess we have plenty to talk about later on...” Nami’s voice drifted off as she wrapped his jacket tighter. There was something nice in this moment, a relief to know that her time hadn’t come, that Zoro was trying to work towards something with her, and being all wrapped in Zoro’s clothes and body.

Yes, it was wonderful, the warmth coming back, and that she wasn’t alone in those tingles that tickled her spine.

#zonaholiday2020 #fanfic #one piece #zona #zonami #zoronami #zoro x nami #ronoroa zoro #op nami #op zoro #tony tony chopper #op chopper

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midnightactual · 3 years

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Yoruichi’s Character Arc

I’ve alluded to it before with things like Yoruichi’s Versions, but I’ve never really directly spelled out my conception of Yoruichi’s post-exile development and character arc from a more emotional point of view, so I guess I might as well do that. I’ve talked about Yoruichi’s character flaws and deficiencies before in The Duality of Yoruichi, and I’ve talked about impressions other people have of her in Yoruichi and Loneliness. A lot of the former issues stem from her childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood, which is detailed (if dispassionately) in History, and a lot of the latter has to do with the image she presents to others as a form of distancing herself from them.

Something which serves as a good emotional guide to Yoruichi in this timeframe is The Glitch Mob’s remix of Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes. I’ll be intercutting lyrics from it to illustrate that point more as I go.

Upon her arrival on Earth, Yoruichi (Yoruichi-4) was essentially extremely Tired and Done as a result of the things which had happened to Yoruichi-1 through Yoruichi-3. Although getting away from things wasn’t her primary motivation during the Hollowfication Incident, it did nonetheless inform her complete willingness to leave her life behind. Simply doing that, however, didn’t really free her mentally from the ramifications.

And I’m talking to myself at night Because I can’t forget Back and forth through my mind Behind a cigarette

And the message coming from my eyes Says “Leave it alone”

Engaging in avoidant behavior, she quickly departed from reminders of her past life and promptly threw herself into worldly human concerns as a way of getting away from her past and herself. This sort of worked for a time, although she would accordingly encounter new traumas due to the horrors of the early 20th century, resulting in Yoruichi-5 and Yoruichi-6.

While she would properly reconnect with Kisuke and the Shōten following the conclusion World War II, it was the death of Kaien that really altered her trajectory substantively. The subsequent Yoruichi-7 was more aware of the fact that she couldn’t escape who she was and where she’d come from, but chose to contextualize it within her recent experiences: she chose to uphold Kaien’s ideals in trying to guide and save humanity through direct action. (As a full nuclear exchange World War III would crash the reincarnation system just as hard as any subsequent threat.)

And if I catch it coming back my way I’m gonna serve it to you And that ain’t what you want to hear But that’s what I’ll do

And the feeling coming from my bones Says “Find a home”

Yeah

I’m going to Wichita Far from this opera forevermore I’m gonna work the straw Make the sweat drip out of every pore

While this agenda was ultimately successful (even if her final relevance to the outcome was questionable) it really boiled down to just keeping things ticking over so that (metaphorically) the sun would still rise the next day. Yoruichi also kind of lost herself in the process and became even more Tired, which even the comparative respite of the ‘90s did relatively little to alleviate.

Being summoned back to Karakura to deal with Aizen finally making moves again, she sort of framed it as one last ride before retirement, only for the fights with Soifon and especially with Yammy to make it clear to her that nothing was really over. Yoruichi-8 thus came about, resolved to return to to her peak performance (at the level of Yoruichi-3 and more) and to put an end to everything once and for all.

The return to dealing with matters involving Soul Society and the organization of the universe at large reawakened feelings of inadequacy and failure within Yoruichi, and Kisuke’s proposition of a grand plan to put things right using Ichigo and Rukia resonated with her: she could either finally atone and receive absolution for her past, or at least receive judgment and oblivion.

All that came crashing down when that plan failed in a spectacularly ignominious fashion. “Judgment Day” came and went with the Wandenreich War, and the world as it was known trundled on past the apocalypse rather substantively unchanged. They failed. She failed. The resulting Yoruichi-9 was thus mostly defined by her rage and resentment at having her satisfactory conclusion snatched away from her by forces beyond her control, and being forced to live with herself just like before only without much hope for some sort of resolution.

But she did have to live with herself. Eventually, as she lived day to day and her anger cooled, she became Yoruichi-10, who was nonetheless still rather more latently irritable and aggressive than most past iterations. This Yoruichi was left looking for purpose in life, and more besides.

And I’m bleeding, and I’m bleeding, and I’m bleeding Right before the Lord All the words are gonna bleed from me And I will think no more

Eventually, she found it in the idea of protecting humanity, just like Yoruichi-7... if differently. Yoruichi-11 was, as a result of recent experiences with Yoruichi-9 and Yoruichi-10, rather more presumptive, assertive, and—to not put too fine of a point on it—quite capable of being a bitch toward others. Unfortunately for her, just having the resolve to live and a purpose in doing so wasn’t really sufficient to lead a meaningful and fulfilling life, and she knew it (as seen in Provocateur).

The real crux at the heart of her interpersonal discontent was, “Don’t you all know you’d be so much better off without me?”

And the stains coming from my blood Tell me “Go back home”

The Void and Hale event was Yoruichi’s attempt to find real personal meaning in life rather than just some sort of impersonal mission statement, and so she decided to fashion her own little idea of “Judgment Day”: she quite literally threw herself away, again and again, searching for deeper meaning in the process of doing so.

There was no divine revelation at the bottom. All that was down there, in the deepest and darkest abyss, was a single spark of indignation: a rage against the dying of the light. What she decided to do upon finding it, was to cradle it within her hands and to make it her purpose to fill the entire universe with it: “Let there be light.”

Yoruichi-12 finally really gets that she can’t do that by herself, and that the way of achieving it is to indeed “Go back home”. Of course, home to her isn’t something so simple as the Shihōin Manor or even the Urahara Shōten. She’s a creature of two worlds at this point—of Earth and Soul Society—and knows that home is as much other people as it is some place. It’s Yūno, and Yūshirō, and Kūkaku, and Kisuke, and Tessai, and Soifon, and so on. (Yes, even her parents.)

This Yoruichi is probably the closest which she has ever actually been to the image which many others have of her (see Yoruichi and Loneliness) and is (increasingly with time) likely the most well-adjusted she’s been too. However it’s important to keep in mind that despite this, Yoruichi is fundamentally a rather Absurdist figure, capital-A.

What she’s truly wanted for more than a century—redemption—has been, in essence, ridiculous. Her latest conception of herself, as filling the human universe with “light” through her own personal example—of rebelling against the status quo and improving things for their own sake right now, and damn the consequences, because that’s what it means to be human—is preposterous. What she ultimately resolves to do in Peace and subsequent threads (set approximately a year after Void and Hale?) could really be seen as her at her most absurd, like Don Quixote tilting at windmills.

Nonetheless, there she is, and there she goes, living on and by her own terms.

#Out Of Character #Headcanons #Music

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well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now · 3 years

Note

There's a new lesson that I can't get to, so I'm going to you!

-35 Anon

Ahhhh??? I absolutely loved this lesson? It's a mostly mammon focused lesson (thanks to all the other brothers nearly dying) with angel backstory/hierarchy added in!????? I'm bouncing off the walls

LESSON 43 SPOILERS

It starts the next day after Solomon nearly kills MC with Mammon waking up looking for breakfast while complaining about the sun (fair enough) he gets annoyed when no one else is up, breakfast is not made and MC is the only one he finds. MC (with what I can only presume is a ridiculous eyebrow wiggle) says 'guess it's just you and me huh?....all alone....' Mammon blushes and says 'that literally cannot be the first thing I hear from you in the morning you're gonna give me a boner' (he actually says something like 'yeah...but don't say sweet, romantic stuff to me first thing in the morning cause you're gonna get me excited')

Mammon complains about the others sleeping in late and says he's gonna not so gently wake them up (this shit validates my HC that Mammon's an early bird and I dunno it just makes me happy) Mammon, with MC trailing behind him, goes to find his brothers. Lucifer is still asleep in his room, Mammon says this is probably a sign pointing to the beginning of the end, Lucifer says 'actually I'm dying cause the scent and flavour of Solomon's food bubbled up in the middle of the night so I'm going the fuck to sleep good night'. Satan wonders what exactly Solomon's food is cause it was able to not have an effect for hours and then suddenly come up again to kill them - he then passes out. Belphie is by Beel's bedside screaming at him to not go into the light, Mammon wonders if maybe Beel's just dying of hunger and Beel says there's no way in hell he's gonna eat anything and Mammon calls Beel out on being an imposter, Beel collapses on the bed and Belpie laments the fact that Beel's dying and that there's nothing he can do. Mammon says 'ugh bro you look like ya gonna die too' and Belphie says 'yeah well i feel like I'm gonna die ever since i ate some custard as a midnight snack and actually maybe it wasn't custard...maybe it was some weird as dessert solomon made cool cool cool i'm gonna pass out too'. Beel says 'Me too' and mammon wonders about the power behind Solomon's cooking. Levi I'm assuming is dead cause no matter how much Mammon pounded on his door and asked him to say something there was no reply so RIP. Asmo blames Mammon for getting sick, cause the bottled water Mammon brought for Asmo when he asked for it the previous night was probably some weird concoction Solomon made. Apparently Asmo's been hearing things ever since he drank it. He also despairs not being able to go the cafe with MC before collapsing on his bed. Mammon considers the fact that Solomon's food should probably be classified as a lethal weapon. Later in the corridor Mammon says that it seems like MC and Mammon are the only ones who came outta this unharmed but like MC nearly died the previous night so what the fuck is your stomach made out of Mammon!? When MC asks this he says he has no fucking clue either but it looks like their entire fridge is now a nuclear waste dump and that they should probably go get some food and medicine (you know these idiots are never gonna return and the others are gonna die).

They go to the Angel's Halo but it's still closed and they decide to come back later, MC ever the opportunist says 'hey ik your brothers are like dying rn and that sucks but ugh wanna make this a date?' And Mammon who has to live with 6 others who are in love with the same person as him and are constant cockblocks says 'shit yeah them being on death's door will probably be the only time we can spend time together without the others breathing down our necks, guess we gotta actually thank -the devs and their massive soft spot for Mammon- Solomon'. Mammon tells MC stories about the other times the brothers were sick, smiling about how they always take things to the extreme (levi had a slight fever and freaked out and turned Henry into Lotan, Asmo had a cold and all his fans came to the house to take care of him and it turned into a party). He says since they are in the human world now they wouldn't have to worry about anything too crazy...then he ruins it by basically saying 'probably'. They go to buy medicine with Lucifer's credit card. MC can ask him how he got it and he'll say it's fine cause they'll just buy food and medicine and only a few things for himself. Or MC can say 'yeah but would medicine actually help?' and Mammon will say 'good point considering it's Solomon's food but we might as well throw some pepto bismol at it and hope for the best.' While heading to the market, Mammon starts blushing about how MC and him heading to the market to buy groceries for dinner sorta feels like something newlyweds would do and hwuidhqowsho8ef7ydjb I'M SCREECHING!? Look me in the eye and tell me this man doesn't have a whole ass colour coded wedding planner aihdhwgdxugz he probably started making it a week after meeting MC. So they head to the market and I shit you not I screamed cause the butcher WHO FUCKING GAVE ADVICE TO MC & BEEL ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP calls out to MC. LOOK I joked about this happening last time but I didn't actually think it would???? and not this fast either! I thought i was gonna have to write a fic about this poor Butcher but solmare's really just giving it to me for free huh? When the butcher greets MC Mammon asks if he knows them and the butcher says that they stopped by the previous day (and look this part is kinda silly and self indulgent but some random as butcher just casually using they/them pronouns made me so happy???). The butcher then asks what the occasion is and if MC is inviting their friend to a party. Mammon, sweet beautiful Mammon goes word for word "Friend? Me? Nah, nah, I ain't just a friend. The two of us LIVE together." Bro at this point I'm in actual tears just imagining this whole scenario. the butcher stutters out an "Ah, I...I see..." MC has a horrid flashback to the previous day of the butcher happily giving them relationship advice for Beel. The Butcher and MC just silently stare at each other for a sec before MC goes "um so yeah ik that happened yesterday but see this one is the one I'm actually serious about." Mammon goes "hey!? wtf who's the OTHER one!?" Then to the poor butcher says "listen up, Me & MC are a THING, got it? so yeah MC's gonna show up with not one, not two but with six other hot guys at some point who are all gonna act like they're a couple BUT it doesn't mean anything got it!? Specially if 'it's a real evil, sinister-lookin' dude with a huge ego and a heart as black as night' that guy especially doesn't mean shit to MC". The butcher says "o-okay". Anyway I desperately need this to be a running gag. Mammon later in really happy that the butcher thought they were a couple and living together and then Mammon who I'm 100% certain at this point has his and MC's entire lives together planned out starts blushing and sighing and saying how he really wishes it was just the two of them living together, sleeping in the same room (bruh I think it's implied enough to assume you already do this half the time), spending the whole day together and staying by each other's sides and how just the thought of all that is nice enough that he can't fight a smile. MC's stomach, much to mammon's dismay, ruins his daydreams by reminding everyone that they haven't had breakfast yet. They decide rather than waiting for the cafe to open to go get something to eat.

They decide to stop at a deli with a line of customers and I think I said this in my answer to your previous ask but I kinda just assumed Mammon would be the most comfortable in the human world and how it was kinda shown when they went to get pizza and later Asmo's dessert that he was able to act the most normal and actually noted when the others were acting weird and tried to reign them in. And that it was probably cause of how much he went to the human world for the witches and MC actually brings it up! They can either say that he seems pretty at home in the human world and he says something like 'oh? I'm just acting like I normally would' or they can ask him if he eats at delis a lot and he says that whenever he gets hungry while he's in the human world for the witches he'll stop at a deli cause it's easy. He kinda gets a sad look while talking about the witches and for once MC gets to turn the tables and be the jealous one. They can ask him if he has pacts with anyone besides them and he says 'no obviously not, do you think I went around making pacts with random people' ....except MC was a random person when he made a pact with them and I've always thought Mammon started getting a crush after making a pact but do you think he was kinda subconsciously curious even prior to it despite how much he tried to get rid of them? MC can also say "witches, huh...?" And mammon goes 'jyggfsdyugadsyu wait are you actually jealous!?" he then leughs, calls MC a dummy and asks how they could be jealous of the witches. AND!! this part made me so happy cause they only mentioned it once before in the main storyline but it was important enough that they had a whole backstory UR card for it and I was wondering if they'd bring it up now since they were in the human world - mammon gets all sad and says there's a reason he can't refuse the witches. he kinda hesitates around telling them that he borrowed some money, and they took over some of his debts and "...And some other stuff, too" (Me, banging my fists on the table: SHOW ME HIS CHILD SOLMARE! PLS! LET MC HAVE A DAUGHTER! or at least give me a name) MC asks if Lucifer knows about this, Mammon says he probably does cause lucifer's his big brother and you can't keep any secrets from your big brother. then he sighs and says he wishes he could live in the human world forever cause he wouldn't have to listen to lucifer's lectures anymore. He seems to realise what exactly he implied cause he goes silent and starts blushing and starts stuttering through saying that what he actually means is that if MC really wants him to stay with them then he might be willing to. They're interrupted by customers talking about a rumour that drinking coffee from the new cafe would make the person you have a crush on fall madly in love with you so obviously Mammon says fuck the deli and drags MC away to the cafe. MC sighs about Mammon being really easy to read. Mammon seems to finally remember that he's supposed to be a tsundere and says him suddenly wanting coffee has nothing to do with the rumour so don't you dare think that and it's not like he's gonna chug their coffee just so MC would fall madly in love with him. MC quite literally goes 'no you' and says well sure you won't chug the coffee but i will and then you'll fall madly in love with me. Mammon, blushing and stuttering, says 'okay but you gotta warn me before saying stuff like that cause it could literally kill me also wtf 'I'm sorta ALREADY madly in love with you...' if you make me fall any harder we're both screwed." He then walks into Luke.

Luke looks adorable!??????????? Before realising who it is Mammon snaps at him to watch where he's going and then goes speechless. Luke says he saw a couple arguing and came to check it out cause they looked like trouble (can't believe Simeon sent a child to scope out a suspicious couple screaming in the middle of the sidewalk about who loves the other the most). Mammon takes offense at the arguing comment and Luke brushes him off to instead talk to Mc about not seeing them in a long time. Mammon snaps at being brushed off and Luke just completely ignores him to hug MC and keep talking about how it's really MC. Mammon does he whole 'no hugging, no getting close, no staring I don't want your germs on MC' routine. MC ignores him and tells Luke that they really missed him, Luke says he missed them too and that actually he missed MC 100X whatever amount they missed him and that he planned on getting in touch with them but the grand opening had them busy. Inside the cafe they meet Simeon who is happily surprised that MC and Mammon are their first customers but that they aren't supposed to open yet. MC asks them what the cafe is about and they say it's a cover for them while they are in the human world and when MC then asks them why they're here Simeon says that Michael appointed him to coordinate relations between the human world and celestial realm. MC and Mammon's stomachs start growling loud enough to resemble Beel's and Simeon offers them breakfast when they remember they haven't eaten. MC catches them up on what's happened and Luke and Simeon laugh about MC now officially being the brothers' babysitter. Mammon says that the angels are really starting to get on his nerves and what they really came for was the coffee that everyone's talking about.

Simeon says that it's just a stupid rumour. MC says but wouldn't it be good for business. Simeon says yeah but since the cafe is just a cover they don't really care about making money and that as angels marketing under a false advertisement is something he can't condone. mammon asks how a rumour like that started and Simeon says that a girl had accidentally walked into the cafe thinking it was some other place and he had given her a free cup of coffee just to see if their new brew tasted good. the girl had later had unexpected, dramatic good luck in her romantic life and had spread the rumour. MC asks if this means Simeon has cupid like powers. Simeon says that he doesn't have that kind of powers, though some angels do. Luke says that angels possess powers from the moment they are born but like humans who are good at some things and bad at others, certain angels can only do certain things with their powers and that angels are assigned a rank based on how skilled they are at what they can do. Simeon's an archangel. Archangels serve as warriors in the celestial realm. And this is really interesting cause it means that Simeon actually fought against the brothers during the war and was not just a passive bystander. It also means Mammon was probably an archangel cause of his 'warrior' card and probably the only archangel from his brothers considering they don't have similar cards. Mammon teases Luke about just being a lower level grunt and Luke says that's still just in training and in the process of determining what he's good at meaning he's not been assigned a rank yet. Simeon says that since Michael expects great things from Luke that'll be really successful. Mammon teases Luke about how if he works hard and aims for the stars he might one day be on the top - a seraph (If this is the highest rank does this mean that's what Michael and Lucifer were?). Luke says that he's actually hoping to be a principality, which mammon laughs about. Simeon finally serves breakfast and talks about wanting to find a way to squash the rumour. MC offers to help and Mammon (rightfully) calls them out on sticking their nose where it doesn't belong again and says he's not gonna help unless they offer to pay him in gold. MC uses puppy dog eyes. It's super effective. Man actually starts blushing and panting and gasping before he gives up and agrees to help. pls sir there's a child here. Simeon calls out Mammon for being a hopeless simp (he actually just says "You really do adore Mc, don't you Mammon?") Luke says MC and Mammon are fucking disgusting and if he watches another second of this BS he's gonna hurl.

while brainstorming about how exactly they are gonna spread a rumour about the first rumour not being true Mammon says that if people saw a couple drink the coffee and instantly break up it might work but hahah it's not like you have one of those. Simeon thinks it's a brilliant idea. MC agrees and Mammon who has probably never been complimented for his plans combusts before pulling it together and puts on his confident narcissistic persona. Luke and Simeon eye up MC and Mammon as their potential couple. Mammon refuses cause he doesn't want to fight with MC even if it's just an act. Simeon offers for their breakfast to be on the house if Mammon agrees and Mammon says he already assumed it was (I mean so did I...). MC says they would really like Mammon to be their partner for this and obviously he instantly blushes and caves in. Luke calls MC out on being a manipulative little shit. Simeon asks MC and Mammon to practice a breakup before the customers come. MC can either start with 'there's something I want to tell you...' - Mammon asks if that's the way they are gonna start and then gets sad and asks them to reconfirm if this is actually an act. or they can start with 'ugh! I can't take it anymore!', and mammon gets shocked and then sad cause he says that since there are so many things wrong with him he can't decide what they are upset about and HOLY SHIT can we get this man some therapy!????? MC gets to pick one outta three problems. 1. He needs to return what he borrowed from them - he says he will eventually. 2. he needs to stand up to lucifer for once - he says he would if he could but each time he tries lucifer just gets worse. 3. he needs to just come out and admit he loves them - he blushes and says not in front of the angels and that he'll do it when they are alone. He then growls and says he has complaints too and that there's a lot he wants to say. he then starts dishing out actual grievances while Simeon and luke awkwardly watch. Luke says something along the lines of 'uhh i don't think he's acting anymore'. Mammon while blushing and sad says that MC is always flirting with others, and asks why they stay up gaming with levi all night, or why they let Asmo touch them all the time, and why they let Belphie sleep on their lap without offering Mammon to do so, And how he absolutely hates the way they lock eyes with Lucifer and just smile and how he doesn't even want them to breathe in front of Lucifer and can we pls talk about the complex Mammon has regarding Lucifer? Lucifer really just took all his trauma and daddy issues and passed it on to his kids huh? Mammon again while blushing says he wants nothing to do with someone like MC and that it's over he then tries to growl at them but he fails cause "Dammit! Like I could ever really say that to you! I love you, MC! And I'll NEVER break up with you, okay?! NEVER!" and god this man is so soft my insides are melting i can't deal with this shit. Simeon sighs about Mammon being useless ((((Probably while Mammon and MC cling on to each other and cry about having to fake break up with each other i dunno they're both pretty useless))))

Since the whole fake breakup thing failed the cafe is packed and Simeon has MC and Mammon working for him during the rush. Satan and Beel end up walking in, when MC asks them how they are doing they both say they are better. Satan had found a curse that ended up transferring all his illness to someone he hates (RIP Lucifer i guess) and Beel's stomach is strong enough that he got over it quicker than the rest. Despite insisting they're only here as paying customers Simeon puts them to work with a sweet smile and a dark purple aurora reminiscent of Lucifer's and a flash of lightening (I love how they keep revealing that Simeon is secretly terrifying) with the reasoning that the cafe is flooded cause Mammon couldn't fake breakup with MC and as Mammon's brothers it's their duty to help out. Beel cries about having to work without being given to eat but is too terrified to actually protest. Mammon suggests MC and him sneaking away now that Satan and Beel are there, MC gives their best impression of Lucifer yelling Mammon (which considering it's previously fooled both Beel and Mammon is probably really good) and he gets back to work

back in their sitting room at home the four of them are beat, though Beel is happy considering he ate all the BLT sandwiches Simeon gave them as payment. Satan says it's a surprise to see the angels here and Mammon tells them about how Michael wants them to coordinate relations between the human world and celestial realm, Satan says that's sus cause that's usually a job for dominions not archangels and that it probably means that Michael is planning something. Mammon says "so you mean he's plotting something again?" . MC can ask about Michael from 1. Mammon - He says he's a demon masquerading as an angel. And that the punishments he gave Mammon gave him shiver, though Satan says that Mammon earned those punishments. Still doesn't excuse the fact that an angel was able to deliver punishments that can still make a demon who had to survive with Lucifer's punishments shiver... 2. Satan - Satan says that back then he was still just a part of Lucifer and could only see the world through Lucifer's eyes. He says that Michael was everything that humans imagine an angel to be and more and that he had a certain presence about him. Beel says the same could be said about Lucifer. 3. Beel - he said he smelled tasty.......like sweets. Mammon says that he was always eating sweet stuff. Mammon says that Michael was A LOT like Lucifer. Satan says that while they were the polar opposite in terms of appearance it felt like they were twins. Mammon says that Michael was crazy about Lucifer (I mean he still has a weird shrine for him so yeah...) and that he really cared about lucifer. Satan says that it's cause Lucifer embodied everything Michael wasn't but wished to be and that he projected himself onto lucifer. Beel says they should probably open up an umbrella. Mammon goes wtf and Beel says cause it's raining. Mammon goes 'bro wtf we're inside'. Satan goes 'actually wait no I'm getting wet'. MC notes a leak in the ceiling, above which is Asmo's bathroom. They've been in this Mansion for little over a week and it's already leaking...

That's the end of the lesson. I'll post screenshots of Luke and Simeon's outfits in a bit. Cause they've been talking about Michael's appearance and personality and cause at the end of the last season he told MC he'll meet them soon do you think we'll actually get to see him? Is it bad that the angels scare me more than the demons? Since they brought up the witches while in the human world do you think we'll get to meet them/have more backstory? hdgudysidhzsjb I loved this lesson and I have so many questions that need to be answered... Let me know what you think!

#asks #answers #obey me #obey me spoilers #obey me shall we date #obey me!#swd obey me #shall we date? obey me!#obey me mammon #swd mammon #om! mammon #mammon x mc #mammon x reader

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world-of-socks · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5: The Sun is a Mass of Incandescent Gas; a Gigantic Nuclear Furnace!!! Where Hydrogen Is Built Into… I’ll Stop Now. Ft. Explaining Friendship to a Dumb@ss

Note: heya! Hope you all are doing well. I don’t know what else to say. Other than I guess I didn’t realize how long getting this au to a point of completion is gonna take.

Yellow sat on her cot unable to move. She simply stared down at her boots, she only quavered slightly from her large frustrated breaths that were holding back more tears. She had never felt this out of place before. Never felt this lost before. Never felt this amount of not being in control before.

She didn’t want to rejoin the group, she didn’t want to feel like that again, but she knew she had to. She had to head back to the group, train with them, become one of them, so that she could win this war.

She tried to move, but nothing happened. She had suddenly noticed the amount of gems that were outside her tent. They were all heading for the training area she had left. That was more soldiers than she remembers there being.

Yellow breathed faster now.

She already had a bad reputation, was without the group she had come to be slightly familiar with, was surrounded by many unorthodox soldiers who didn’t function normally, and there she was, feeling like she was going to cry. How pathetic. What a clod she was.

She thought about what White or Blue would say to her right now, seeing as she no longer trusted herself for good advice.

“Get back on your feet, now, General. You are the sun for stars sake! They are supposed to revolve around you. Burn brightly, make them fear you. Don’t FAIL again!” White would yell in her voice that would waiver between dangerously calm to dangerously angry.

“Give me your hand.” Blue would say, and she would take her hand and squeeze it gently and just give her a kind look that spoke volumes through nothing but her eyes. She could speak the most well-written paragraphs through nothing but what was communicated through her face.

But neither were here right now. So she improvised.

After looking around sufficiently, to make sure no one could see, she gave her own gloved hand a squeeze, whispering to herself, “You are the sun for stars sake, burn brightly, clod.”

She stood up with a long breath and took a step forward towards the exit of the tent. Her confidence was little, but not nonexistent. It had never quite been nonexistent, it was always there in some form, even if it was fake.

One step.

Another step.

A few more.

She had made it the flap of fabric that led to the outside world; the camp. She took another deep breath and forced herself outside. There were less soldiers now, most had made it to wherever they needed to go; whether that was the training grounds or the forge or someplace unknown to her. She stood there for a moment unsure of where she should go. She was pondering just that when a voice called to her:

“Hey, you. You! Whatcha doin outside the general’s tent? I mean I ain’t gonna judge if you been snoopin’, but you know that ain’t really allowed right?!”

A gem, hunched over a fire that was near her tent, was the one who had spoken. They appeared to be overly tired and worn. Their gem had scuff marks on it, as if they should have been shattered many times.

Yellow tourmaline cocked her head for a moment and pondered who was speaking to her before she realized that she would have to give a response.

“Oh… I am a general. I’m just… new.” the words came out slowly, but somehow found their way to the surface.

“I see. Aren’t ye supposed to be wit the others then?” the gem raised an eyebrow.

“I-...yes.” Yellow frowned and what little confidence she had mustered seemed to drain out of her.

The gem pondered the statement for a moment, but instead of being angry or confused simply patted the log that they sat on and motioned for Yellow to join her. Yellow hesitated, but since she didn’t know what else to do she complied. She shuffled over to the fire awkwardly, but decided to sit on the log across from the gem; seeing as she still wasn’t used to sitting that close to other gems.

“So… what’s yer name, general?” the gem asked with a sigh.

“Tourmaline. Yellow Tourmaline.” she stiffened up.

“Mine’s Ammolite. Most folks just call me ‘A’ though. -Just easier.”

It was quiet for a moment before Yellow piped up, “Why aren’t you with the others? Don’t you have something to do?”

The gem laughed, but it sounded too sad to be real, “I’m retired, really. I been here for so long, Rose said I outta rest, she said I had too many close calls. She said I could go leave and rest, but I couldn’t make myself leave this place. I’m done fightin’, sure. But I ain’t done supportin my friends… of the one’s I got left.”

“I… see.” Yellow did not see.

It was quiet again. Yellow couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that one could simply stop living out a purpose. How could one stop? Her face contorted as she thought.

The gem laughed again, it sounded less sad though, “Confused, eh? Yeah, most are. And yer new so that don’t help. Would you like more of an explanation?”

Yellow frowned into the fire, thought for a moment, then looked into the gems face, and nodded.

Ammolite smiled, “I stopped fightin’ cause Rose believes that I deserve a rest. I was workin so hard, cracked my gem so many times, that she said I should be done. She didn’t want me to get hurt anymore. Sometimes I ain’t even sure why I stick around, though.” The gem sniffed, “All I get to do is sit here and watch what’s left of my friend’s get shattered on the field. I wanna stay, though, cause even though I ain’t fightin, I get to help you newbies. So even though part of my purpose is over and done wit, I gotta a new one now. Even if it's hard sometimes.”

“Why get close to anyone, then, if you just have to watch them get shattered?” Yellow blurted out before she could stop herself.

The gem was taken slightly aback at the question, but then settled into the fact that Yellow was new to this and answered her, “Because if you don’t care about nobody then what’s the point of anything? Besides, if you don’t care about nobody, who’s gonna care about you? It’s a sad life to live all on yer own, sure it’s sad when you lose a friend, but it’s worth it for the memories, ain’t it?”

“I… suppose so.” she replied.

“You got any friends, Tourmaline?” the gem asked.

“I-...” Yellow thought for a minute. She had something back on homeworld, but she wasn’t sure what it was. She thought about how she would feel if she lost any one of her fellow diamonds. “I don’t know if I have any. I think I used to.”

“What happened to them? If you don’t mind me askin?”

“They-... they’re back on homeworld. I don’t think they would want me if they knew I was here.” she stumbled over her words, still not quite understanding her own feelings.

“I see.” The gem thought for a moment, “I understand you’re new, and don’t understand this, and yer figuring yerself out, but I’m willing to be yer friend if ….you want.”

Yellow thought this over for a moment, “What… would that entail?”

“Nothin, really.” Ammolite laughed, “It’s just a mutual agreement that I care about you and you care about me.”

“Hm.” she responded and she thought for a moment before continuing, “But I-... don’t know you.”

“I know. But you could.”

“How?”

“I’ll just share some things about myself, and you can do that same.”

There was a pause, “That’s incredibly simple. If it is truly that simple, then why wouldn’t everyone just be friends for the mutual benefit of being allies?”

The gem smiled, a light that hadn’t been there before now dazzling her eyes, “Hm. What a beautiful world that would be.”

“Is that what you fight for? Why you’ve stayed?” Yellow felt the fire reflect on her gem; the morning sun rising.

“That’s definitely one reason.” The gem grinned, she could read the recognition in Yellow’s face: something had gotten through to her, even if it wasn’t much, it was something.

“Now let me ask you a question, Tourmaline.” the gem sat up a little, “Why aren’t you with the others? Don’t you have something to do?”

The sun seemed to go behind the clouds, and the morning air became crisper.

“I’m supposed- I’m supposed to be with the other generals, but…” Yellow trailed off.

“Everyone has bad first days, Tourmaline. I had mine when I was a general. First day I almost started a mass panic!” Ammolite reminisced, “You are just new. The squadron you been placed in is one of the most brave I ever seen! They been through a lot, it’s gonna take a while for them to get used to you and you to get used to them. It always takes time.”

Yellow was silent; shocked, in awe. A failure was a failure, and she had failed. She was a failure here, but this gem…

“I can tell that you are a strong one. Just hold out for a bit, take some risks. You ain’t on homeworld anymore.”

Yellow was still unable to speak. She had never quite been treated this way before.

“I tell you what. How ‘bout you go down to the forges and get yer weapon crafted? You’ll need it for when you fight anyway, so even if you can’t go back to the other generals you’ll still be doin work that needs doin.”

“Where… where are the forges?” Yellow was practically whispering.

“They’re right over there.” The gem pointed down the rows of tents to a more concrete tent of sorts with smoke billowing from it.

“Ammolite, I… appreciate your ...service.” she eventually concluded.

“You are welcome.” the gem smiled, “And remember we are friends, Tourmaline. You can talk to me, or sit with me if ya need. That’s why I’m here.”

Yellow nodded and then made her way to the forge, her confident strides returning to her.

……

Her head still reeling from the conversation she just had; she slowly pushed back the warm leathery fabric that covered the forge and walked inside. The gems inside were hard at work in the flames and lava, liquid metal being bent and shaped in their hands. She approached the countertop and stood there, unsure of what to do or say to get what she needed.

While she stood there, awkwardly, she turned her head towards what she believed was the sound of whispering. Sure enough, two gems were sitting on the floor of the forge, presumably waiting for a weapon, and were whispering to each other. As she rolled her thoughts over and over in her head, she suddenly realized a possibility and she stiffened:

Were they whispering about her?

Her face felt hot and she turned away to look back at the lava instead, which subsequently made her face even more hot. She shuffled around, now feeling more awkward than ever. Did they know about her incident from earlier today, already?! She felt tempted to leave but she just kept repeating Ammolite’s words to herself:

“I can tell that you are a strong one. Just hold out for a bit, take some risks. You ain’t on homeworld anymore.”

She chanced another glance at the two gems and they were still whispering, looking at her, but when the one caught her eyes, she too, blushed. Yellow decided just to look away and pretend it had never happened.

“Heya, dear, what can I do for you?” a fusion asked politely.

“I- uhm… I need a weapon made.”

“Have you gotten fitted for it yet?” the fusion, which appeared to be between a jasper and an aquamarine, asked politely.

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“Well then come back with me, hon, we’ll get you fitted.” The fusion led her to a back room that was used for testing weapons.

The rest of her time was spent testing her broadsword. The fusion kept saying that she should use one more proportional to her body type, but she insisted upon the oversized sword. Once the fusion gave up on convincing her, she went back to the forge to make her weapon and let Yellow wait with the other gems for her new sword.

She didn’t look across her at the two whispering gems. She was too… frightened, or maybe it was nervousness. She didn’t know, but she didn’t like the feeling so she made sure not to look at them. Instead she busied herself by fiddling with her gloves or her hair. And she definitely was NOT thinking about the two gems who whispered, not at all.

………….

When she finally received her weapon she quickly left the tent, greatful that the whispering gems had finally left. She kicked up small clouds of dust as she strode back to her tent. When she finally arrived, she was still the only one there. The sun still hung in the sky, her fellow generals wouldn’t be back until long after sunset. The days seemed to tick by so much slower on Earth.

She flashed a quick look at Ammolite before entering her tent. Yellow stood in the entryway, the fabric flap blowing gently in the wind behind her. She sat on her cot and polished her already perfect sword, and was yet again at a loss.

“A mutual agreement that I care about you and you care about me.” she thought back to what Ammolite had said.

If she was going to get into the other general’s good graces she was going to have to employ this new tactic.

She quickly busied herself. She tidied each general’s cot, folded the cloths that were strewn about, disposed of Jasper’s pile of broken cot pieces, and studied the lamps that hung about the tent. It took her longer than she would have liked, but when she finally deduced how the primitive lighting technology worked, she had finished. The room was tidy, it was not uniform, but it was tidy. Not only did she feel better about existing in the tiny space, but she hoped that the gesture would be appreciated.

She was sitting on her cot, polishing her sword, when the other’s finally came back.

“Why do I always end up with the most unruly squadrons?” Peach groaned.

“Ah shut up! You love em’!” Ame laughed and punched Peach’s shoulder, playfully.

“I-!” Peach attempted to protest but stopped in her tracks, “... What-...?”

Yellow bolted up from her cot.

“Woah. Yellow, did you do this?” Ame skidded to a halt.

“I did.” Yellow was unable to look at them, “I hope it is to your liking.”

Jazz lifted up the fabric door and entered, “Dang, Peach, bet you didn’t see this one coming!” she laughed.

Emerald pushed past the wide-eyed gems who still hadn't taken more than four steps onto the premises and cleared her throat.

“General. Your behaviour today was uncalled for, disrespectful, and will not be tolerated in the future.” Bear’s face softened, “But we know what it’s like to be new, and everyone has horrid first days. You’ve clearly shown us that you want to belong here, and we sincerely appreciate you cleaning up our living quarters.”

Yellow simply bowed her head, as a show of acknowledgment and thanks.

The others piled into the tent as if nothing had happened at all, the lamps grew bright and the generals laughed and joked for a few lovely collections of moments. But as always the best moments seem to end the quickest and the joyful, joking air faded into the dirt floor as the generals gathered together to discuss their plans.

“Squadron AC7 is currently out on mission, when they return we can all convene with Rose and plan our next big strike.” Emerald spoke in a hushed voice.

“I hope their mission is going well, we need a win in our corner.” Bis replied, back from the forge. “Not to mention that I can’t stand to lose more folks.”

The group nodded, Yellow simply watched intently from her cot, unable to join the meeting.

“Peach, can you foresee anything about AC7’s outcome on the field?” Emerald translated for Bo.

She thought for a moment, “I-... we’re gonna be lucky if we can achieve a stalemate.” she replied in a despondent voice.

There was a collective sigh of defeat, these gems were exhausted. Yellow had watched her army fight them before, but it seems as though the gems she had fought were shells of what they once were. If they continued on like this, the war was hers. Pink would have her colony back under control, and Yellow could move on with her own.

“Cat’s Eye, we need your input.” Emerald called to the shadow that stood responsibly outside the tent.

The gem strode inside and stopped, robotically at the table at which the general’s were huddled around. They projected a scene from their gem eye, it depicted a series of guerilla tactic strikes in a few key locations. It took yellow a moment before she realized that she recognized those locations: her military bases.

She had thought they were secret.

“We can try, but we’re going to need more squadrons to participate. One won’t be enough.” Jazz replied.

“I agree. The plan is a good one, mate. But I think we still might need to wait on a meeting with all the squadrons before we can go through with it.” Ame concurred.

“What should we do in the meantime?” Bis inquired, absentmindedly filling out weapon reports.

“We should prepare our forces for Cat’s Eye’s ideal attacks. Maybe get the fusion brigades in shape?” Peach sighed, running her fingers through her hair.

“We need a morale boost.” Jazz interpreted roughly for Bo.

The Jasper perked up, but the group quickly shut her down.

“Sorry Jazz, ya classes are a little more niche then what we’re looking for.” Ame patted the now frowning gem’s back, a sympathetic smile upon her face.

“Rose said that she’ll conduct some sort of morale boosting speech or ceremony or something or other before the end of the month. She’s aware of the problem. She says as long as there are more recruits that are coming in we should continue to stay afloat morale wise.” Emerald responded.

“So for now…?” Jazz prompted, her shoulders still slumped, her head in her hands.

“For now we prepare.” Emerald finished, “I just pray to the stars above that Ac7 isn’t obliterated in the meantime.”

Yellow knew her troops would do their best to ensure the opposite. With that thought, Yellow returned to polishing her sword. She shook any of her thoughts about the stars above out of her head

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unikornu · 4 years

Photo

Page 5, Regain

(re-written)

Gage pushed the door open, the bright and warm sun hanging above Nuka Town welcomed them as well as grumpy faces of the local raiders and curious ones of the traders, passing along the way, while they were heading to the Fizztop.

- Didn’t change much since last time, maybe just the audience is a bit more..unpleasant, for now. Lucy walked beside Gage looking straight forward and avoiding the judging eyes and whispers surrounding them. - Also it got a bit warmer too. She brushed her forehead sweeping away some sweat.

- So you have been here before, Boss? When? I don’t remember you when we raided this place. Gage looked at her, curiously.

- Oh...way before traders or whatever happened to this town after...She paused, realizing that what she will say might sound very strange to Porter ears.

- After what? Upon passing Parlor he noticed she doesn’t act like being in a new place indeed. She was observing and smiling softly almost like glad to revisit.

- Let’s save that talk for later, once i will be sure you still won’t gut me at the end of that walk. Also why do you call me Boss all the time? She looked up at him squinting her eye.

- Rules, Boss. Without them we would be the same fucking Commonwealth mess. Well..that one was my own rule, might as well not break it right away. He pushed the button, elevator slowly sliding down at the Fizztop.

- And you don’t break rules eh? Even your own? She smirked at him and whistled softly at the fact that raiders would think of an elevator and even build one, functional.

- Oh i do break rules Boss, but only on special...occasions. He smirked back at her and pointed to the elevator as it arrived. As they were going up he looked at her face, blushed in the sunlight, revealing a scar and tattoos.

- Got yourself a nice souvenir from kind people of Commonwealth? She leaned on the barrier and pulled her knife out.

- Yes..the most kind type. But he left me this as a recompense. She spun it in her fingers and pointed towards him before putting it back.

- Disciple styled...so the fucker managed to escape after all, hah. Gage mumbled under his nose recognizing the blade structure that was well known in Nuka Town among the crooked ladies of Nisha’s gang.

----

- Finally. Lucy released the sound of relief from her lungs at the elevator arrived to the patio. As she spotted the bed she started heading towards it right away, taking the parts of her armor on the way, ignoring Gage presence.

- Uhm..you need a sec Boss? We still need to talk about the plan. He turned to the side and sat at the bar that was just across the bed, wodden-made wall hiding her as she dropped on the mattress.

- Just talk while i rest for a moment. I can hear you just perfect. Lucy used the fact she was hidden and send the short report to the Institute from the pipboy, allowing her to continue her side-tasks and not be disturbed nor tracked while she figures out her current position.

- Okay, Boss. So there are three gangs in this town. Disciples, Operators and the Pack. And as u noticed raiders aren’t the sharing type much so Colter and i had idea to get the rest of the Nuka World to start expanding ourselves and let’s say...loosen the tension a bit. Gage started explaining but as he would rather have that talk face to face he started taking slow steps towards the bed.

- And Colter didn’t do it eh? Looking how he ended up. Lucy leaned on her arms and looked around, bringing back the memories of this place when it was a full functional restaurant.

- He got a bit...lazy and i’m a fucking patient man but at one point all of us had enough, of his comfy ass, sitting all days here, drinking beer after beer and fucking around. He approached her close enough just to see her head from above the wall.

- And..you want me to finish the job. She interrupted and looked at him, slowly standing up and siting at the edge of bed, ignoring the fact being dressed just in underwear and a top. - Can i ask you something, Gage? He nodded and looked away.

- Why didn’t you step up as the Overboss? You know this place and you seem smarter than you look about all this shit. I mean..look at me, im not a leader. She snatched a box of whatever food was nearby tearing the opening apart.

- Because i fucked up too much before, they hate me for it and i would rather keep my head where it is. You on the other hand have a clear....card. She looked at him uncertain, holding her head on the palm and chewing.

- Fuck, look i will help you, guide you around, throw some advices. I will come with you too if you don’t mind company. We just need to get the job done. Gage stepped up to her as she walked down to the bar.

- And what do i get out of it, and you? She leaned over the counter, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the shelf below.

- You get whatever the hell you want as long as it goes along with our..what they called them..principles and the plan of getting the rest of this place for us. Her face brightened a bit the sound of it. - And i get to keep my head where it is and get my share out of it. So...deal, Boss? He stretched the hand towards her.

- Get whatever i want...and do what i want with no consequences, hmm fine, deal, for now. She barely could get her hand around his to squeeze it in a manner of agreement as it almost disappeared in raider’s big palm. - I will still sleep with a knife under my pillow Gage, i don’t trust you just yet. All of it just sounds too good and easy.

- What if it actually is that good and easy, Boss? He grinned and turned around, slowly walking away towards the hallway. - Also when you rest you need to meet with the leaders, i left you directions on the desk.

- You want me to go alone out there, and meet the leaders? Me? Alone? She laughed but stopped shortly realizing he is not joking.

- Well, you have to get respect one way or another, Boss. That might prove them just fine that you ain’t just scared little pretty gal eh? He looked her up and down and disappeared behind the door.

- Well...shit. She looked in the glass she poured herself whiskey and drank it all in one go. - Alright...i got this. Might also need some new clothes for this bloody warm place.

----

Its been a while since Lucy was stepping into the wolf’s caves with the mind sharp and confident but with each step she realized that even if 200 years passed for her it was much shorter, almost like stepping through a magical door just to find yourself on the other side of the nuclear land. Spinning the knife in its grip she decided to be done with her biggest worry first - disciples. Reading a face can say a lot about person’s intentions but in Nisha case that was impossible. Lucy had to remain calm and stoic against the leader disgust and lack of faith into her person as well as Gage choice of promoting her but nothing that a few promises wouldn’t shake away along with trashing Colter. She left, still facing them until she stepped out of their base. Savoy sharp look shining from behind his mask was sending a shiver down her spine that she shook away as she arrived near the market.

Next was the Pack. They were speaking simple but understandable language, their base looking like a colorful zoo more than the pre-war theatre. Mason outfit and overall look was blending quite well with the all the decorations placed behind his throne. - King of the fucking jungle himself. She whispered under her nose, approaching him and passing the dogs curiously watching her and sniffing behind.

- So you are the Overboss..hmpf..was expecting something..well better. Mason scanned her from his chair and slowly stood up.

- Or bigger...well i didn’t come here to make an impression. Just tell me what you want. She threw her hands to the side and stepped aside as Mason walked down, facing her.

- Straight to the point, Boss? Well, listen then because i don’t like to repeat myself like i did to Colter. We need more fucking space and action, anything to get this pack running again. If we cook up here any longer even i will lose my fuckin patience and piss on the rules and Porter himself. The more he was looking at her, down and her posture, the wider his smile was getting, that this woman is their so called leader from now on.

- Alright Mason. I know about Colter’s plan and i intend to actually get it moving. But tell me, why the fuck you guys didn’t kill him on a spot if he was so bad? And why one of you didn’t take charge if you all know what ya want? She looked up at him, questionable.

- First, it was all Porter’s plan, along with making Colter the Overboss and we just agreed to it. Look, Colter wasn’t bad at the start, a bit dumb if you ask me but tough as fuck. And now well, you came by, just as he lost our respect and Porter decided to “accidently” kill him in a fair fight. Mason leaned down towards her, his breath almost hitting her face. - But if you manage to fuck it up the same way i might actually take charge since you came up with the idea. Would be a shame tho....

- And if you don’t back off i will strangle you along with your dogs to that fucking chair. He grinned at her and straightened himself back up.

- Hah, you have some balls even for a small little sweet bird like you, tell ya what. I’m gonna be nice that first and one time, Boss and you will give us what we wanted all that time. He stepped up to his chair and pulled something from behind and threw it her way. A colorful rifle landed in her hands and surprise showed on her face. - Just try not to fuck it up or i will beat you myself to death with it. She nodded at him and left the theatre as Mason shooed her away with his massive arm. The last was Parlor and the twins.

- At last, something pleasant that isn’t splattered with blood all over or stinks. Operator at the door pointed her inside. - Mags and William were waiting for you, Boss. Don’t make them wait any longer.

The place was clean and barely changed except the aging furniture and dried flowers placed in a cracked vases. She liked it and realized that despite Mags being slightly proud and stiff they spoke the same language when it came to what the want in the end. Caps and more caps. They said before the war that money could not buy happiness but what if for both of them money itself became reason to be happy. She shook hands with Mags but William as well in a sign of respect for them both and showing some manners.

- It was my pleasure too to meet you, Boss. William took a few more seconds on a hand shake but Mags elbow suggested him to stop dreaming around.

- Also...who is she? Lucy asked seeing an operator woman passing and holding a bunch of grenades and other devices.

- That is Lizzie, our conspirator and...well lab-mad woman but we were friends since back then so she joined us too. She has a talent for explosives and other things. Mags sighted and allowed her to visit her in the lab, her face remaining stoic and emotionless as always.

Lucy knocked on the door frame before disturbing her. - So you are Lizzie,what are you doing there?

- Well, hello Boss. Just testing new type of grenades, you never know when you might need them with people like us. Especially that Colter only worsened the whole situation. Lizzie pulled her goggles on the forehead and turned towards her - At least we got that problem away. Hope you ain’t planning following in his steps and finally get us some caps.

- I like myself above the ground so ye.. Listen...i know this place and i know they kept some...clothes around Parlor. Do you know where i might find them? Lizzie pointed towards the door in her lab, leading downstairs to a room filled with dusty boxed and racks covered in plastic foils.

- Mags didn’t throw them out yet and i kept what i found for myself here. For...science purpose, of course. Why, you need new clothes? Lizzie pulled a rope dangling above, lightening the bubble hanging in the center of the room.

- Something like that, yes. And i think you can help me make it a bit more than just clothes. She smiled at her and Lizzie couldn’t deny she liked her approach and idea. They agreed on helping each other as long as Lucy would also accept taking on few tests with her new weaponry inventions.

----

-Welcome back, Boss. Whoa, shit.....you look different. Gage was expecting her to come back in one piece with no issues but not in new gear as well as she stepped from the elevator inside his room, wearing a mix of something elegant and skimpier than before, almost hidden behind junks of metal armor.

- Take care of it, its from Mason. She threw him a rifle carrying all the rainbow shades, leaving the raider face half opened, almost dropping a cigareyte that was placed in his mouth.

- Mason gave you his rifle? Un-fuckin believable. He gave it a few spins and placed it on the table next to other guns.

- They all must be pretty desperate, letting us do all the job after all and even offering some gear, just like that. She dropped on the chair, throwing her legs on the table and snatching the pamphlet lying nearby.

- Us? So you already decided you want me to tag along, Boss? He couldn’t hide his smile on a thought that she actually agreed to take on a task and hell even include him in the action.

- It’s a job for two people and since we shook hands i guess we are partners from now on, eh? She looked at him and winked from behind the park map. - So, what do you say we do?

He stretched his neck and threw the finished cigarette to the side. - I say we prepare and go kill some shiet, Boss.

#fallout 4 #fo4 #nuka world #lucy's diary #lucy feit #porter gage #re-written #screenshot #pose it mod

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rattmemes · 5 years

Text

Beetlejuice: the Musical OBCR Starters! ACT 1

((>>act 2<<))

all changeable titles/pronouns will be in [italics and bracket!]

PROLOGUE: INVISIBLE

“ in times like these, we have no words, we only have each other ” “ we only have each other ” “ today we come together to mourn ” “ scripture tells us: “sorrow not, for we do not walk alone” ” “ sorrow not, for we do not walk alone ” “ you’re invisible when you’re sad ” “ clocks tick and phones still ring ” “ the world carries on like mad ” “ the world carries on like mad, but nobody sees a thing ” “ nobody sees a thing ” “ whispering behind their hands, lost for kind words to say ” “ nobody understands, and everyone goes away ” “ nobody understands ” “ everyone goes away ” “ grownups wanna fix things, when they can’t it only fills them shame ” “ they just look away ” “ is it being greedy to need somebody to see me and say my name? ” “ seems when you lose your [mom], no one turns off the sun ” “ folks carry on, that’s that ” “ holy crap, a ballad already? ” “ such a bold departure from the original source material! ”

THE WHOLE BEING DEAD THING

“ hey folks! begging your pardon! ” “ hey folks! ” “ begging your pardon! ” “ ‘scuse me! sorry to barge in! ” “ ‘scuse me! ” “ sorry to barge in! ” “ let’s skip the tears ” “ let’s skip the tears and start on the whole, y’know, being dead thing ” “ you’re doomed! ” “ you’re doomed! enjoy the singing ” “ the sword of Damocles is swinging ” “ if i hear your cell-phone ringing, i’ll kill you myself ” “ the whole being dead thing! ” “ death can get a person stressed ” “ we should have carpe’d way more diems, now we’re never gonna see ‘em ” “ we should have carpe’d way more diems ” “ i can show you what comes next ” “ don’t be freaked ” “ stay in your seats ” “ don’t be freaked, stay in your seats ” “ i do this bullshit like eight times a week ” “ so just relax, you’ll be fine ” “ drink your fifty-dollar wine and take a breath ” “ welcome to a show about death! ” “ you’re gonna be fine on the other side ” “ DIE! YOU’RE ALL GONNA DIE! YOU’RE ALL GONNA DIE! ” “ i’ll be your guide to the other side ” “ oh, and full disclosure: it’s a show about death! ” “ everybody gets on fine here ” “ everybody gets on fine here, like Rodgers, Hart, and Hammerstein here ” “ the women’s bathroom has no line here ” “ just... pee where you want! ” “ you’re just gonna love the folks here ” “ yes, i know you’re woke, but you can take a joke here ” “ i do, like, a TON of coke here ” “ nobody is bullet-proof ” “ “i work out! i eat clean!” jesus, pass the Dramamine ” “ jesus, pass the Dramamine ” “ time to face the brutal truth ” “ we’re all on a hitlist ” “ might not live ‘till christmas ” “ choke to death on Triscuits ” “ hey, that’s just statistics ” “ take a little break here ” “ kinda like a wake here ” “ the scenery is fake here ” “ there’s a giant snake here! ” “ how you doin’? not good! ” “ seriously though, this is a show about death ” “ death is taboo, but it’s hardly something new ” “ there’s nothing medical professionals could do, ‘cept maybe just bill you ” “ if you die while listening to this album, it’s still gonna keep playing ” “ there’s no destiny or fate, just a terrifying wait filled with people that you hate, and on a certain date, the universe kills you ” “ that’s the thing with life: no one makes it out alive ” “ toss that body in the pit ” “ gosh, it’s awful, ain’t it tragic? ” “ blah blah bible jesus magic ” “ when you’re dead, who gives a shit? ” “ pilates, no more yoga ” “ namaste, you fuckin’ posers! ” “ from the cradle to cremation, death just needs a little conversation ” “ i have mastered the art of tearing convention apart ” “ how about we all make a start on the whole being dead thing ” “ god, i hope you’re ready for a show about death! ”

READY, SET, NOT YET

“ look at this crib ” “ look at this crib, in all of it’s glorious antiquary ” “ every curve and surface speaks to me, saying pamper and spoil me, sand me and oil me; come on ” “ i know to the untrained eye it’s boring ” “ nothing’s a chore when you’re restoring ” “ apart from frustration, pain, and financial drain, it’s fun! ” “ why do you polish your crib when you don’t have a kid? ” “ even if you did have a kid, this crib is too precious for placing a baby inside it ” “ it simply exists to remind you your sense of perfection is just a reflection that you are not mentally prepared to make room for a kid ” “ why don’t you live? ” “ just make a start ” “ are you willing to take the next step? ” “ ready, set - ” “ look at these jugs! ” “ amazingly glazed and terracotta-ery ” “ i took some clay and made you pottery ” “ the world will never wreck you, i’ll protect you in a mother’s embrace ” “ why can’t you see that ceramics is simply a manifestation of [motherly] panic; by making a baby that’s breakable aren’t you creating a way of translating the terror of making [maternal] mistakes into clay, hiding away so you don’t have to face being a bad [mom]? ” “ that’s what you’ve done, ___ ” “ here we stand at the end of a 10-year plan ” “ a house, a yard, a minivan, a baby should be next ” “ together let’s leap off the cliff, fall forever, then smash to bits ” “ trapped in a terrifying viper pit ” “ trapped in a terrifying viper pit of diapers and regret ” “ are we willing to take the next step? ” “ ready, set - not yet ” “ why rush? ” “ soon enough our hopes and our dreams will be crushed ” “ but not yet ” “ not now ” “ we can’t start a family in a house with creaky floorboards ” “ you are absolutely right, let’s add it to the list ” “ with the cracks in the plaster ” “ the wi-fi should be faster ” “ this sofa needs a castor ” “ the bathroom’s a disaster! ” “ what about global poverty? ” “ what about world peace? ” “ then there’s the whole darn economy ” “ the whole middle east ” “ we should learn mandarin ” “ yeah! or spanish at least ” “ no habla espanol, dos cervezas por favor ” “ and that’s all we got, and that’s not a lot ” “ do we want a bilingual household or not? ” “ so let’s go slow, no breaking a sweat ” “ what’s the point of having children if we’re drowning in debt? ” “ see, i wasn’t kidding, it’s a show about death! ”

THE WHOLE BEING DEAD THING PT. 2

“ ready? okay! ” “ hi! i’ll be your guide! i’ll be your G-U-I-D-E to the other side! ” “ don’t go to the netherworld ” “ netherworld? ” “ did i say netherworld? never mind ” “ jesus, i can’t spell ” “ he’ll be your guide! ” “ let’s all get naked! ” “ let’s all get naked! eh, worth a try ” “ what is happening?! ” “ i understand that it’s a lot to process ” “ the good news is you and our spouse died in your own house ” “ that gives you clout ” “ that means the two of you should stick around ” “ lucky for you i dropped by ” “ yeah, you seem like nice guys ” “ a little on the pottery barn and dry white wine side ” “ as for me, i’ve been scaring for millennia ” “ i’m the bio-exorcist giving houses enemas ” “ push out all the breathers so you can breathe easy ” “ just stick with me ” “ i’m like a ghost zombie jesus ” “ ghost zombie jesus! ” “ i do it for the love of it. money? ah, who gives a shit ” “ i think we’re a perfect fit, c’mon let’s make out a bit ” “ it’s the perfect day to die ” “ it’s the perfect day to die, ‘cause this guy happened to be passing by ” “ to give you control of your soul ” “ to give you control of your soul for the whole being dead thing ”

DEAD MOM

“ hey [mom], dead [mom] ” “ hey [mom] ” “ i need a little help here ” “ i’m probably talking to myself here ” “ i gotta ask, are you really in the ground? ” “ i feel you all around me ” “ are you here? ” “ i’m tired of trying to iron out my creases ” “ i’m a bunch of broken pieces, it was you who made me whole ” “ i’m a bunch of broken pieces ” “ it was you who made me whole ” “ every day [dad’s] staring at me, like all “hurry up, get happy” ” “ move along ” “ forget about your [mom] ” “ [daddy’s] in denial, [daddy] doesn’t wanna feel ” “ [he] wants me to smile and clap like a performing seal ” “ ignored it for a whole, but [daddy’s] lost [his] mind for real ” “ you don’t believe the mess that we’ve become ” “ you’re my home, my destination ” “ i’m your clone, your strange creation ” “ you held my hand, and life came easy ” “ now jokes don’t land ” “ no one sees me ” “ nothing seems to fit ” “ are you receiving? ” “ i want something to believe in ” “ take me where my soul can run ” “ i’ll be in my bedroom, wake me when i’m twenty one ” “ won’t you send a sign? ” “ i’m running out of hope and time ” “ a plague of mice, a lightning strike, or drop a nuclear bomb ” “ no more playing [daddy’s] games ” “ i’ll go insane if things don’t change ” “ whatever it takes to make [him] say your name ”

FRIGHT OF THEIR LIVES

“ okay, listen up, i’m not gonna lie; right now you couldn’t frighten a fly ” “ you ever stop to ask yourselves why? ” “ both of you are super polite, middle class, suburban, and white ” “ well, all of that is finished tonight ” “ take your places ” “ i want scary faces, now go! ” “ bigger! ” “ further! ” “ harder! ” “ not bad! ” “ i want scary faces, now go! bigger! further! harder! -- not bad! ” “ sever a head, preferably someone you know ” “ look at me, i’m so scary! ” “ don’t be so vanilla, would a little anger kill ya? ” “ c’mon drop your panties i’m trying to fill you -- with wisdom and skill ” “ and the instinct to kill ” “ again, we do not want to kill anyone! ” “ fine, but somehow, someway, you gotta make ‘em see ya ” “ i’m talkin’ jumpscares, the jerky japanese ghost-walk ” “ learn how to throw your voice! -- fool your friends! -- fun at parties! ” “ now THAT is cool! i wanna do THAT! ” “ whatever it takes to make ‘em go crazy ” “ raising the stakes by punching a baby ” “ scare ‘em away till they break ” “ they’ll be quaking in fright ” “ you’ve got some evil deep down inside you ” “ put all the farmer’s markets behind you ” “ you’ve gotta work, gotta haunt till it hurts through the night ” “ give those guys the fright of their lives! ” “ let’s start with things that you hate ” “ hate’s a very strong word ” “ perhaps when people are late ” “ or getting pooped on by birds ” “ no, what fills you with rage? ” “ what fills you with rage? ” “ being mean to a pet ” “ chefs who use too much sage when they make beurre noisette ” “ over-glutinous food ” “ when kids call me dude ” “ oh, i find that so rude! ” “ well, there’s lots there to use ” “ take a deep death and give me your best primal scream ” “ [weak, lame scream] ” “ that was brilliant! ” “ try it again, maybe this time pretend like you mean it ” “ [lame scream but deeper] ” “ that was even better! ” “ i want freedom ” “ to get my freedom i need to get a living person to say my name ” “ i know that beggars can’t be choosers, but do they have to be such losers? ” “ both of them are deathly dull and lame ” “ why God slash Satan did you send these bed wetters? ” “ even, like, a tax attorney would’ve been better ” “ somebody with gravitas, somebody to fear ” “ excuse me, ___, we can kinda hear you ” “ yeah? well that was a soliloquy, so you’re the one who’s being rude ” “ turn all the lights on ” “ dress like a baby ” “ ___, i don’t even -- no. ” “ get your heads in the game ” “ let’s hide their phones! ” “ screw their phones! ” “ ugh, these dopes are hopeless ” “ how will i ever survive? ” “ unless they get the fright of their lives ” “ yes, we’re feelin’ it! ” “ they gotta get the right of their lives ” “ we’re scary, very very scary! ” “ they’ll never get the fright of their lives ”

READY, SET (REPRISE)

“ that needy pervert was right ” “ if we want our house back, we have to fight for it ” “ how? no one can see us! ” “ we’re ghosts, damn it! let’s haunt this bitch! ” “ oblivion calls ” “ we might as well walk through some walls ” “ i’m sure we can haunt our own halls ” “ we’re ready as we’ll ever get ” “ i gotta get right outside my comfort zone ” “ we’ll rattle chains and, i don’t know, just wail and moan until they go ” “ ready, set let’s oooOOOoOooOooOo [ghost noises] ”

NO REASON

“ the universe is more than just space with no end ” [sung] “ la-la-la-la-la! ” “ just think of the universe as a female best friend ” “ hey, universe, what’s happening girl? ” “ oh nothing. just running the world ” “ you’re on the right track, [girl], i got your back, [girl] ” “ i’m helping you grow ” “ think positive, act positive, you are a child of the Earth! ” “ life coaching! nailing it! ” “ time to take command you dictate the hand the universe deals ” “ look, science makes no sense; who needs evidence? ” “ go with yours feels ” “ i’m like a radio tuned to the stars ” “ i found my frequency, crystals speak to me ” “ what are they saying? ” “ buy more crystals ” “ everything, EVERYTHING, happens for a reason ” “ be a beacon of light in the world, put a little alright in the world ” “ there are spiritual guides above, look up and see ‘em ” “ perception is reality ” “ just listen to the melody the universe sings ” “ everything happens for a reason ” “ gee, i hate to break it to you: the universe is just the contents of time, matter and space ” “ ninety-one billion light-years across and the Earth’s a small place ” “ good people die in famine and wars ” “ the pacific islands are sinking, but negative thinking is hardly the cause ” “ you think life is all unicorns and rainbows ‘cause you’re bored ” “ positivity is a luxury that few can afford ” “ we’re gonna die, yes you and I, in meaningless and alone ” “ no no no! no! ” “ one day you may wake up alone ” “ your husband and his boyfriend bought a boat and then they sailed away to Rome ” “ that’s specific ” “ so you cry yourself to sleep in deep despair, talking to the walls ‘cause there’s no one there, and you have to buy a cat ‘cause that’s your last chance to have a family ” “ take it from me, your aging ass will have to believe that everything happens for a reason ” “ put some more fun in the world, a little “I AM STILL YOUNG” in the world ” “ be prepared to take your eggs and freeze ‘em ” “ is this still about me? ” “ sounds like terrible things can happen ” “ because the universe is random ” “ yes, but, random for a reason ” “ no reason ”

INVISIBLE (REPRISE)/ON THE ROOF

“ you’re invisible when you’re me ” “ there’s no one to see my truth ” “ if they could look up they’d see: hey! somebody’s on the roof! ” “ god, it’s mortifying, what’s the point of even trying? ” “ now i’m trapped with no escape ” “ banished! disavowed! i vanished like a cloud of dirty hipster vape ” “ i vanished like a cloud of dirty hipster vape ” “ nobody said life’s fair ” “ guess they will never see the demon who isn’t there ” “ whoa, what have we got here? ” “ by the time you read this, I, ___, will be gone ” “ there’s nothing for me here ” “ i’m alone, forsaken, invisible ” “ that makes two of us ” “ who the hell are you? ” “ can you... see me? ” “ yeah...? ” “ you can SEE me! ” “ I’M GONNA HAVE A NEW BEST FRIIIIIIEEEENND! ”

SAY MY NAME

“ you could use a buddy ” “ don’t you want a pal? ” “ yes i do! yes i do! ” “ the way i see, your [daddy] should be leaving and you should stick around! ” “ and kill him! ” “ ... what? ” “ nothing! ” “ don’t end yourself, defend yourself ” “ [daddy] is the one you should maim ” “ together we’ll exterminate, assassinate! ” “ the finer points can wait ” “ first you gotta say my name! ” “ go ahead and jump but that won’t stop [him] ” “ here you got a solid plan B option ” “ i can bring your [daddy] so much pain ” “ all you gotta do is say my name ” “ just say it three times in a row ” “ you won’t believe how far i’ll go ” “ i’m in the bench, but coah, just put me in the game! ” “ i don’t know your name ” “ well, i can’t SAY it ” “ how ‘bout a game of charades? ” “ yes, let’s play it! ” “ close, but no ” “ wow, i’m impressed ” “ all you gotta do is say my name three times ” “ three times in a row it must be spoken, unbroken ” “ you’re so smart, a stand-up bro ” “ i’ll think about your offer, let you know ” “ i prefer my chances down below ” “ being young and [female] doesn’t mean that i’m an easy mark ” “ i’ve been swimming with piranhas, i don’t need a shark ” “ yes, life sucks, but not that much ” “ be a doll and spare the lecture ” “ i’m offering you a full-time specter! ” “ are you any good? ” “ you bet’cha! trust me, baby! ” “ really, it’s a flattering offer ” “ don’t you wanna see [dad] suffer? ” “ i think i’d rather just jump off ” “ i may be suicidal but ___, it’s not as if i’ve lost my mind ” “ so, playing hardball, huh? you are tougher than you look ” “ just wanna make sure i know who i’m working with. go any references? ” “ ___, there you are! ” “ get away from [her] ! ” “ this is a dangerously unstable individual ” “ ___ is sexy! ” “ ___ is smart! ” “ ___ is a graduate of Julliard! ” “ [he] can help, we found [him] on yelp ” “ our troubles all ended on the day that we befriended ” “ every word is the truth ” “ what the heck was that? ” “ so violating! ” “ there you go, kid, couple of five-star reviews ” “ that was possession ” “ any ghost can do that in less than one lesson ” “ pretty much any ghost’ll do, sure ” “ then, ___, what do i need you for? ” “ woah, woah, woah woah woah! hold up! ” “ hold up! i’m your pal! ” “ they’re sweet, but i’m a demon straight from hell ” “ i know, i went a little hard on the sell ” “ we’re BF-F-F-F’s forever! ” “ what? he was already dead ” “ we don’t need that demon ” “ together we can make a grown man weep ” “ we got a dinner date to keep ” “ okay, so what’s the plan? ” “ [he’s] gonna freak when we possess him ” “ i’ll lead that lamb to slaughter ” “ yeah, i got game! ” “ i’m gonna make [him] say my name ” “ not running away ”

DAY-O (THE BANANA BOAT SONG)/ACT I FINALE

“ what’s going on ___? are you alright? ” “ i don’t -- i dont know what just happened ” “ ___? do you need to lie down? ” “ what is happening to me? ” “ work all night on a drink of rum ” “ daylight come and me wanna go home ” “ stack banana till the morning come ” “ wait, why aren’t you dancing? ” “ it’s like i told you, ___, this house is haunted, and the ghosts who live here want you OUT ” “ who wants bacon? ” “ no! no! i’m a vegan! ” “ shut up, you moron! don’t apologize, we’re gonna be RICH! ” “ a genuine haunted house? it’s a goldmine! ” “ these ghosts are gonna make us a fortune! ” “ no! you’re supposed to be scared! ” “ there’s one thing that can still stop [him] ” “ ___, no! you don’t know what’ll happen! ” “ i can’t keep living like this! ” “ oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! i’m so glad you changed your mind! ” “ you are never gonna regret this! ” “ we are gonna make such a great team! ” “ give me just... one... more... ” “ it’s SHOWTIME! ” “ it’s our house now, kid! ” “ looks like we’re not invisible anymore! ”

#Lyric Meme #lyric starters #lyric sentence meme #rp lyric meme #lyric sentence starters #rp meme #rp starters #rp #sentence meme #sentence starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters #beetlejuice rp meme #beetlejuice sentence starters #beetlejuice lyric starters #Role play meme #role play starters #role play sentence meme #role play lyric starters

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buzzdixonwriter · 4 years

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Sci-Fi And The Sincerest Form Of Flattery

I know many of you prefer “science fiction” or “science fantasy” or “speculative fiction” or “sf” or even “stf” for short, but I ain’t that guy…

I’m a sci-fi kinda guy.

I prefer sci-fi because to me it evokes the nerdy playfulness the genre should embrace at some level (and, no we’re not gonna debate geek vs nerd as a descriptor; “geeky” implies biting heads off chickens no matter how benign and respectable the root has become).

. . .

A brief history of sci-fi films -- a very brief history.

Georges Melies’ 1898 short A Trip to The Moon is one of the earliest examples of the genre, and it arrived full blown at the dawn of cinema via its literary predecessors in Verne and Wells.

There were a lot of bona fide sci-fi films before WWII -- the Danes made a surprisingly large number in the silent era, Fritz Lang gave us Metropolis and Frau Im Mond, we saw the goofiness of Just Imagine and the spectacle of Things To Come and the space opera appeal of Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers.

And that’s not counting hundreds of other productions -- comedies and contemporary thrillers and westerns -- where a super-science mcguffin played a key part.

That came to a screeching halt in WWII primarily due to budget considerations and real world science easily overtaking screen fantasy. Still, there were a few bona fide sci-fi films and serials during the war and immediately thereafter, but it wasn’t until the flying saucer scare of the late forties that sci-fi became a popular movie genre again (and on TV as well).

Ground zero for 1950s sci-fi was George Pal’s Destination Moon, which was an attempt to show a plausible flight to the moon (it was actually beaten to the screens by a couple of other low budget movies that rushed into production to catch Pal’s PR wave for his film).

This led to the first 1950s sci-fi boom that lasted from 1949 to 1954, followed by a brief fallow period, then a larger but far less innovative second boom in the late 1950s to early 1960s.

BTW, let me heartily recommend the late Bill Warren’s magnificent overview of sci-fi films of that era, Keep Watching The Skies, a must have in any sci-fi film fan’s library.

Seriously, go get it.

Bill and I frequently discussed films of that and subsequent eras, and Bill agreed with my assessment of the difference between 1950s sci-fi and 1960s sci-fi: 1950s sci-fi most typically ends with the old order restored, while 1960s sci-fi typically ends with the realization things have changed irrevocably.

In other words, “What now, puny human?”

I judge the 1960s sci-fi boom to have started in 1963 (at least for the US and western Europe; behind the Iron Curtain they were already ahead of us) with the Outer Limits TV show, followed in 1964 by the films The Last Man On Earth (based on Richard Matheson’s I Am Legend), Robinson Crusoe On Mars, and The Time Travelers.

But what really triggered the 1960s sci-fi boom was Planet Of The Apes and 2001: A Space Odyssey. The former was shopped around every major Hollywood studio starting in 1963 until it finally found a home at 20th Century Fox (whose market research indicated there was an audience for well-made serious sci-fi film and hence put Fantastic Voyage into production). Kubrick, fresh off Lolita and Dr. Srangelove (another sci-fi film tho not presented as such), carried an enormous cache in Hollywood of that era, and if MGM was going to bankroll his big budget space movie, hey, maybe there was something to this genre after all.

From 1965 forward, the cinematic space race was on, with 1968 being a banner year for groundbreaking sci-fi movies: 2001: A Space Odyssey, Barbarella, Charly, Planet Of The Apes, The Power, Project X, and Wild In The Streets. (Star Trek premiering on TV in 1967 didn’t hurt, either.)

And, yeah, there were a number of duds and more than a few old school throwbacks during this era, but the point is the most interesting films were the most innovative ones.

Here’s a partial list of the most innovative sci-fi films from 1969 to 1977, nine-year period with some of the most original ideas ever presented in sci-fi films. Not all of these were box office successes, but damn, they got people’s attention in both the film making and sci-fi fandom communities.

=1969=

The Bed Sitting Room

Doppelganger (US title: Journey To The Far Side Of The Sun)

The Gladiators

The Monitors

Stereo

=1970=

Beneath The Planet Of The Apes [a]

Colossus: The Forbin Project

Crimes Of The Future

Gas-s-s-s

The Mind Of Mr. Soames

No Blade Of Grass

=1971=

The Andromeda Strain

A Clockwork Orange

Glen And Randa

The Hellstrom Chronicle

THX 1138

=1972=

Silent Running

Slaughterhouse Five

Solaris [b]

Z.P.G.

=1973=

Day Of The Dolphin

Fantastic Planet

The Final Programme (US title: The Last Days Of Man On Earth)

Idaho Transfer

=1974=

Dark Star

Phase IV

Space Is The Place

Zardoz

=1975=

A Boy And His Dog

Black Moon

Death Race 2000

Rollerball

Shivers (a.k.a. They Came From Within and The Parasite Murders) [c]

The Stepford Wives

=1976=

God Told Me To [a.k.a. Demon]

The Man Who Fell To Earth

=1977=

Wizards

[a] I include Beneath The Planet Of The Apes because it is the single most nihilistic major studio film released, a movie that posits Charlton Heston blowing up the entire planet is A Damn Good Idea; follow up films in the series took a far more conventional approach to the material. While successful, neither the studio nor mainstream audiences knew what to make of this film, so 20th Century Fox re-released it in a double bill with another problematic production, Russ Meyer’s Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls, and holy cow, if ever there was a more bugfuck double feature from a major studio I challenge you to name it.

[b] Other than Karel Zemen’s delightful animated films, Iron Curtain sci-fi films rarely screened in the US, with the exception of special effects stock shots strip mined to add production values to cheapjack American productions (looking at you, Roger Corman). Solaris is the exception.

[c] David Cronenberg made several other films in this time frame, but most of them were variations on the themes he used in Shivers, including his big break out, Scanners. Realizing he was repeating himself, Cronenberg reevaluated his goals and started making films with greater variety of theme and subject matter.

. . .

The astute reader will notice I bring my list to an end in 1977, a mere nine-year span instead of a full decade.

That’s because 1977 also saw the release of Close Encounters Of The Third Kind and Star Wars.

The effect was immediate, with knock-off films being released the same year.

1978 saw Dawn Of The Dead, a sequel to 1968’s Night Of The Living Dead, and Superman, the first non-campy superhero movie aimed at non-juvenile audiences.

1979 gave us Alien, Mad Max, and Star Trek: The Motion Picture.

These films were not just successful, they were blockbusters.

And none of them were original.

Close Encounters served as an excuse to do a Kubrick-style light show; plot and theme are about as deep as a Dixie cup, and of all the blockbusters of that era, it’s the one with no legs.

Alien’s pedigree can be traced back to It! Terror From Beyond Space (and It’s pedigree goes back to A.E. van Vogt’s “Black Destroyer” and “Discord In Scarlet” in the old Astounding Stories) and Demon Planet (US title: Planet Of The Vampires) by way of Dark Star (Dan O’Bannon writing the original screenplays for that film and Alien as well).

Mad Max, like 1981’s Escape From New York, differs from earlier post-apocalypse movies only insofar as their apocalypses of a social / cultural / political nature, not nuclear or biological weapons. Mad Max, in fact, can trace its lineage back to No Blade Of Grass, which featured it own caravan of refugees attacked by modern day visigoths on motorcycles, and the original Death Race 2000, as well as an odd little Australian non-sci-fi film, The Cars That Ate Paris.

Not only was Dawn Of The Dead a sequel, but it kickstarted a worldwide tsunami of zombie movies that continues to this day (no surprise as zombie films are easy to produce compared to other films listed here, and while there are a few big budget examples of the genre, the typical zombie movie is just actors in ragged clothes and crappy make-up).

Superman was…well…Superman. And Star Trek was Star Trek.

And the granddaddy of them all, Star Wars, was a cinematic throwback that threw so far back it made the old seem new again.

Not begrudging any of those films their success: They were well made and entertaining.

But while there had been plenty of sequels and remakes and plain ol’ knockoffs of successful sci-fi movies in the past, after these seven there was precious little room for anything really different or innovative.

1982’s E.T. was Spielberg’s unofficial follow-up to Close Encounters.

1984’s Terminator consciously harkened back to Harlan Elison’s Outer Limits episodes “Demon With A Glass Hand” and “Soldier” (not to mention 1966’s Cyborg 2087 which looks like a first draft of Cameron’s film)

All innovative movies are risky, and the mammoth success of the films cited above did little to encourage new ideas in sci-fi films but rather attempts to shoehorn material into one of several pre-existing genres.

Star Wars = space opera of the splashy Flash Gordon variety

Star Trek = crew on a mission (Star Trek: The Next Generation [+ 5 other series], Andromeda, Battlestar: Galactica [4 series], Buck Rogers In The 25th Century, Farscape, Firefly [+ movie], The Orville, Space Academy, Space Rangers, Space: Above And Beyond, plus more anime and syndicated shows than you can shake a stick at)

Superman = superheroes (nuff’ sed!)

Close Encounters / E.T. = cute aliens

Alien = not-so-cute aliens

Terminator = robots vs humans (and, yes, The Matrix movies fall into this category)

Escape From New York = urban post-apocalypse

Mad Max = vehicular post-apocalypse

Dawn Of The Dead = zombies

Mix and match ‘em and you’ve got a nearly limitless number of variations you know are based on proven popular concepts, none of that risky original stuff.

Small wonder that despite the huge number of new sci-fi films and programs available, little of it is memorable.

. . .

It shouldn’t be like this.

With ultra-cheap film making tools (there are theatrically released films shot on iPhones so there’s literally no barrier to entry) and copious venues for ultra-low / no-budget film makers to show their work (YouTube, Vimeo, Amazon Prime, etc.), there’s no excuse for there not to be a near limitless number of innovative films in all genres.

But there isn’t.

I watch a lot of independent features and short films on various channels and streaming services.

They’re either direct knock-offs of current big budget blockbusters (because often the film makers are hoping to impress the big studios into giving them lots of money to make one of their movies), or worse still, deliberately “bad” imitations of 1950s B-movies (and I get why there’s an appeal to do a bad version of a B-movie; if you screw up you can always say you did it deliberately).

Look, I understand the appeal of fan fic, written or filmed.

And I get it that sometimes it’s easier to do a knock-off where the conventions of the genre help with the final execution.

But let’s not make deliberate crap, okay?

Oscar Wilde is quoted as saying “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery” but he was quoting somebody else, and that wasn’t the whole original quote.

Wilde was quoting Charles Caleb Colton, a dissolute English clergyman with a passion for gambling and a talent for bon mots.

Colton’s full quote: “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery that mediocrity can pay to greatness.”

Don’t be mediocre.

Be great.

#science fiction #sci-fi #1960s #1970s #movies #Bill Warren #Keep Watching The Skies

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alchemisland · 4 years

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Mike’s list of Irish punk bangers

Recently I’ve been attempting to recall the results of a certain patch-decked census, namely the list of one-off punk bands I’ve seen over the years. Next came another, more troubling thought: if tomorrow morning a hemorrhage turned my wits to water, who would wrest this mantle and detail those defunct Irish punk and metal bands who split without leaving behind a recording? If not I, then who?

Rather than spouting a list of band names so unheard as to seem almost religiously profane when uttered aloud, I recall only the time when conjuring a selection suchlike was easy and did not require considerable aforethought, which counts as work and is thus un-punk.

Perhaps it’s misremembrance which worries most.

Striving to immortalize these rarities which, like rare nightbugs, enter one’s ear and soon thereafter die, I will compile these annals myself. I’ve opted for a regular selection of arbitrary Irish underground and alternate tunes. Mostly punk and extreme metal, although there’s post-punk, bassy weirdness, drone, rock&roll and hip hop throughout.

I haven’t yet considered breakdown metrics. By subgenre or county of origin perhaps, but that’s for a future iteration to say. Just count your good sense badges and be glad I didn’t use the originally planned ‘Pale Shadows’ and ‘From the Bog’ headings for Dublin and rest-of-country songs respectively.

From the forge of Hephaestus to your plateless breast, three of my favourite underground Irish songs:

Violins is Not the Answer - Sick

Unless someone’s asking what luthiers make, Violins is Not the Answer. However, Violins were someone’s answer when they tore the tucked shirt off Galway punkdom with their raucous 2011 debut Green Diesel and Poitin. It’s a time-tested sob story of Irish scene cohesion that lets so fresh a band go unnoticed, unhailed and handsomely unkempt outside their home county; it’s this exact myopia, although antipode, which confined Lovecraft in Rhode Island and left Howard’s hypothalamus on the dash under a Cross Plains sun.

Aside from the band themselves, I doubt there’s another person alive who has heard this album more than I. I’ve proudly flown that battered, cider-stained flag throughout a local and global invasion until Violins, not 42, became the answer, at least for me.

Has it really been that long? Eight years on it still excites much as the first time. Its engine-revving opening track conjures images of sputtering roadsters chewing the starting line of a Mad Max outback race, while the final upstroked riddums of its GBH-esque closer Sick promises the tinny best of Shitty Limits alongside the sombre heights of FNM’s Midlife Crisis.

Guitars that sound like they’re being played with chainmail’d fingers, vorpal bass tapping, ska pick it ups to HxC stick it ups (middle fingers in this instance), Green Diesel crams a maelstrom of alt genres into a curt 26-ish minute runtime. Ben’s phlegm-tinged vocals lead the sonic vanguard, bolstered and occasionally shelved in favour of fireman-cum-drummer Donal’s softer warble on cryptid welfare anthem Vampire on the Dole.

Sick is my favourite tune. The song, the album’s only track exceeding a three minute runtime, combines everything that makes Violins worth ear-time in the epoch of overchoice. Although Class Ayes and Dickheads Picnic deliver the nutkicks exactly how frontman Ben, of Psychopigs, Hardcore Priests and Doppelskangerz fame, wants them delivered, Sick offers a sample book of greatness to come across two recorded albums. Containing an otolaryngologist-approved mix of harsh shouting and actual singing, Ben’s disarming foghorn timbre sweeps us slowly toward the finish after a suppressing fire of growled insistence, “You ain’t never gonna come//between me and my bottle.”

Fans of short time good time are well served with riffy tunes in the vein of punchier Propagandhi songs, albeit playfully apolitical. Littered with in-jokes and avowedly pro substance, these tracks stink of fun in the studio, a subterranean lodge affectionately christened the Fritzl Bunker. Even angry songs fizz with youthful energy. It makes me want to drink malibu from a shoe in GG Allin’s house. It rouses me to a bubbling zenith of bacchic hedonism which Andrew W.K. can’t hold a candle to.

There’s much here not found elsewhere; adjoining on Keytar Mr Jimmy Penguin of Skratch Games fame, his genius confined only by the breadth of his current interest; also the album’s producer. You can tell Jimmy put work on this record. Every groove is warm and tipped to perfect balance with just the right amount of hiss; right in the sense that it’s sometimes wrong.

Since disbanded, there’s two albums worth of raw riffage to enjoy. From Refused rip-offs and Exploited shouts-outs to Elvis Costello tracks played backwards, find this album, buy a CD and tell your Granny this picnic is for dickheads.

I’m rambling. Violins is not the Answer. For my money, the best punk band in Ireland post 2010.

https://violinsisnottheanswer.bandcamp.com/track/sick

Divisions Ruin - Srebrenica/Merely Existing

I won’t lie. Much like a former athlete whose varsity gout impeded athletic excellence, I’ve had to settle here. I wanted the track Srebrenica from Division Ruin’s side of the Easpa Measa split - another band we’ll encounter later, or if not here than absolutely in future installments, should they ere be writ.

I have the vinyl. Whenever I want to sonically experience withstanding a carpet bombing, I stick the needle down, turn the table over, sit in the lotus position and wait for oblivion. This track absolutely slays. The opening riff, an atomic discharge of heavy bass, distorted guitar and technical drumming from the scene stalwart and filler-player-extraordinaire John K, sears the ears, and one might be forgiven for touching that dial. Then the vocals come. Impassioned howls from the furious maw of Cirarot, which sound almost prehistoric in their primal ferocity. With my eyes closed, I feel the cymbal crashes like great waves and imagine people of the dawn age battling terrible beasties, although I’m not sure if she’s the lizard or its prospective prey.

Although all their recorded tracks offer something for filth-seekers, I struggled to find another which accurately conveyed with sufficient brutality the blunt force flavour Srebrenica proffers. However you locate this song, ensure you’ve your iodine pills to hand; shit is about to get nuclear. In lieu of an active link, here’s another hefty slab from the same split.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARGqt0r_cVg

Easpa Measa- Vargold

B-side of the Divisions Ruin split, Easpa Measa deliver a cleaner, dare I say, more mature crust experience. Less raw but equal in ferocity, Easpa Measa’s Eric’s howls are twisted as the metal he contorts for his angry punky art, conjuring images of Ireland with reintroduced wolves.

We picture them on the plain, endemic of wider wildness among the populace. However you fall on the lupine legacy of Eireann’s isle, Easpa Measa deliver perfect high kicks on every tier. Riffs, loud bass and amazing drumming from Ken Sweeney, another scene stalwart also of Harvester fame, while Clodagh’s vocals, whose shrieking ire can only be matched by the shipwrecking songs of the sirens themselves, compliment Eric’s baleful howls.

Bring back the wolf indeed. Although so many years since its release the band have disbanded with ne’er a wolf attendant at a single show, this song’s singular ferocity more than accounts for any deficit of wolfnishness on the island. Don’t miss this amazing video from their final show, alongside the Freebooters at the Boh’s club in Dublin, with bonus front row Mike Dempsey (that’s me!).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0wIQC6wk7sY

If you like this list or the tunes therein, let me know your thoughts and why they activated your nodding lever.

If other bands are close to your heart but far from the zeitgeist, comment or PM with appropriate links and I’d be glad to include your suggestion.

Thanks so much for taking the time to read this short post. I’ll have interesting content by the fishgut bucketload in 2020, but should/hope to have one more live before yuletide at least.

Please drop a like and share this post with your favourite PUNX. Give them the gift of Violins this Christmate. An early stocking filler to ensure the loyalty of nephews and nieces come the post-yule divorce news, here’s an.. Important music video I made for their track Dickheads Picnic.

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spooky-scary-imagines · 5 years

Note

Could you write something sweet for Norman? ^^

((Always! I doubt you care but I went on IMCDB so now I have to share this info. The car they drive in this is a 1947 Ford Coupe, only relevant cause this exact car was used in Psycho IV but also due to the fact that, while in the original Norman is never seen driving, every notable car in the film is a Ford due to the fact that the company was funding his television show. So know you know I’m a huge dork, and some useless trivia! Anywho, spot the movie references (Are they even references if I’m directly alluding to them lol)! Bonus points if you can figure out the film they end up seeing. ; ) Warning: This started out sweet and fluffy and it still ain’t smut but I was listening to Britney Spears when I wrote this, it gets pretty suggestive, and y’all make-out so I figured I should say something.

Business at the motel had been very good lately. While the creation of the highway had initially nearly drove the place out of business, just recently, a new factory complex had moved its central location to a town right nearby, leading to a large increase in foot traffic around the motel. While it did mean you and Norman had to work pretty hard to keep everything running tip-top, the extra spending cash laying around was a pleasant change. It allowed for nights like tonight. You and Norman had been planning a date night for awhile now, just a chance for you two to get out of the motel for bit. You had arranged for a trusted friend of yours from in town to watch the place for a bit. That way no profits would be lost, and Norman wouldn’t spend all night worrying something was happening to it.

You two decided to go to the movies together. Norman had confided in you previously that he never really got to go on dates in high-school. And how, while he didn’t mind too terribly, there was a part of him that felt like he’d missed out. So, you figured this was a nice place to start. The evening started nicely. He picked you up at the door to your room, clutching a modest bouquet, and beaming like a teenager watching his prom date descend the stairs. He fidgeted in the doorway as you found a vase for the flowers. With one last check that you had everything you needed for the evening, you headed out. You made sure your friend was all set up in the motel lobby, Norman nervously going over the rules and “Just-In-Cases” for what must have been the fifth time. You helped reassure and usher him along out to his old Ford, deciding against the sometimes 20 minute battle to get your old junker kicking.

When you finally reached the cineplex, the sun had begun to set, casting a warm pink over everything it’s rays could reach. The theatre was largely empty, which is what you two preferred, and why you had chosen to go on a weekday. There were a meager selection of movies to choose from, not unusual for the small town. “There’s the nuclear fallout flick with Gregory Peck?” you shot Norman a teasing glance, “I heard that heart-throb Anthony Perkins is in it…”

“Wh-Wha-” he sputtered, “How-How about this one, it-it’s ab-bout birds. And it’s by the man who made Rope…”

You glanced at the poster for Tippi Hepburn’s debut thriller, “Mmmm, maybe…though I’ve heard it’s not very scary…and the director tends to be hit-and-miss. Oh! There’s that one comedy with Paul Newman on a chain-gang, that could be fun? Or…” you gasped, “That one!”

“Al-alright, that could be fun. He was in The Graduate, and that was well-liked…”

You grinned and took his hand in yours as you ordered two tickets. You lead him to the snack counter and, ignoring his insistence that he be the one to pay for them, you bought him a bag of red vine licorice to nibble on throughout the movie. The man had such a sweet tooth! The theater was otherwise empty and you two made your way through the aisle til you were smack dab in the middle. As Jon Voight drove from Texas into New York on that rickety bus, you leaned against him. He stiffened under you momentarily, before relaxing into your touch, resting his head on yours.

Some time had passed and Joe had finally met Ratso before you felt Norman’s fingertips brushing questioningly against your knuckles. You smiled and took his hand in yours. There was an awkward, but somewhat funny (at least on your end) moment during the scene in the movie theater. It was amusing to watch your boyfriend squirm in his seat and get all red in the face. Every time one of the more dirty scenes would come on, Norman’s breath would hitch a little. Even in the dark theater, you could see the tips of his ears and neck turning scarlet.

During one of the more relaxed scenes, you leaned over the armrest and pressed a kiss underneath his jaw bone. He inhaled sharply, but kept his eyes trained on the movie.You pecked him on the cheek before trailing kisses down his neck to the collar of his shirt then back again. You felt him gulp as you made your way to his collarbone. He murmured out your name and squeezed your hand. “Uh-huh?” you whispered, “What is it, honey?” He made a keening noise low in his throat before turning and pressing his lips to yours. You couldn’t help but smile against his mouth as his hands slowly moved to cup your face. All this time together, and he still touched you like everything was his first. Your hands moved to rest on the front of his sweater and you bit at his lower lip, earning a soft and muffled moan from your boyfriend.

In a rare move of him taking the lead, he buried his hands in your hair. The kiss deepened, and before you knew it, his tongue was in your mouth, tasting like peppermint and candy. Your hands traveled down to rest against his hips and he subconsciously bucked up into your touch, no pressure where he really wanted it. Due to the nature of the theater seats, there wasn’t much room to maneuver but you made due, practically crawling over the armrest to press against him. You broke apart for a moment to catch your breath, Norman always kissed like a man starved, taking your breath away literally. You leaned your forehead against his and chuckled against his mouth, breath coming from both of you in short pants. “Baby…” you murmured.

“Mhmmm”

“I think the movies about to end…”

He tucked his head into the crook of of your neck, “Y-Yeah?”

You looked up at the screen as Joe Buck closed Ratso’s eyes. “So pretty soon the light’s are gonna come on…”

Realization hit him and he whipped his head up, “Oh-oh goodness.” He hastily tried to smooth out his beshelved hair and sweater, pulling it down over his lap a bit. You giggled and brushed your fingers through your hair, you decided against telling Norman about the small hickey poking out of his shirt collar. The credits rolled and with and unspoken promise to pick-up where you left off at home, you both made your way back to the car. The car ride was a bit awkward as you tried to ignore the tension that was building as you got closer to the hotel.

“What was your favorite part of the movie?”

“I’ll a-admit I was a l-little, erm, distracted. I couldn’t really p-pay attention.”

You gave him a wry grin, “Guess we’ll just have to go there again…”

He turned to you wide-eyed, before shaking his head and smiling. You were going to be the death of him.

#norman bates #psycho #slasher imagines #slasher #don't read at work #maybe???

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closetofanxiety · 6 years

Text

Nitromare: My God, We’re Really Doing This

Joe has returned to the Land of the Rising Sun, but Mark and I for some reason are committed to watching every Nitro of the Vince Russo Era, when WCW went beyond the point of no return in the battle against the WWF. Tonight we’re on the second week of the first Russo reign: October 25, 1999, from Phoenix, Arizona. Let’s soak up the horror!

We open with Sting, in street clothes, coming out to the ring to demand the presence of JJ Dillon, the kayfabe commissioner. Sting lost to Goldberg last night at Halloween Havoc, but says that match wasn’t for the title, and so Goldberg should not be the champ. Dillon says there’s going to be a tournament to determine the champ, so Sting beats up Dillon. Goldberg runs out to make the save, and in the scrum, Sting’s t-shirt remains impressively tucked into his jeans. Why are they trying to make Sting into a whiny, shitty bad guy? The most natural babyface in the company since Ricky Steamboat. People want to cheer for Sting.

The first match of the tournament is Norman Smiley vs. Bam Bam Bigelow. It’s over in about five minutes, with Norman winning. I think it was a hardcore match?

Now the Filthy Animals come out to show video footage of them taking Ric Flair out into a desert at night and dumping water on him. I’m not sure why you’d film yourself committing a crime, but the 1990s were a different time. You know who Billy Kidman looks like? The singer for Missing Foundation. It’s uncanny. There’s footage on YouTube of that guy, Peter Missing, setting himself on fire at a show in Boston.

Rey Misterio says the Filthy Animals are going to “hump” Harlem Heat “like the dogs we are.” OK? Dean Malenko and Perry Saturn are apparently outraged, perhaps on behalf of dogs, and they run out and start beating on the Animals with lead pipes. Shane Douglas and Asya come out and kidnap Torrie Wilson.

Now we’re backstage with Mike Tenay and Curt Hennig. Is there any American wrestler whose career was more a story of thwarted promise than Mr. Perfect? He was so good at everything, but never really got the breakthrough, either because of injuries or working for the wrong company at the wrong time, or both.

Kevin Nash and Scott Hall are hanging around backstage. Somewhat grimly considering what we know now, they’re drinking beer from a cooler.

The next match in the championship tournament is Hennig versus Lash Laroux, a truly forgotten figure from the WCW era. His gimmick was that he was a Cajun. That was pretty much it, mes amis. While the match is going on, Disco Inferno comes out to do commentary with Tony Schiavone and The Brain. For some reason. Hennig gets DQ’d for hitting Laroux with a chair. Disco Inferno comes in to help Laroux, and gets beat up with the chair. The match lasts maybe three minutes.

We’re back in the ring after a commercial break with Kim Page and Mean Gene talking about the Nitro Girl competition. This was a contest to find a new Nitro Girl that I think Stacy Keibler eventually won. We meet two more finalists, both local, and watch footage of them dancing as Disco Inferno looks on. Was he the judge? His whole gimmick was that he was a bad dancer.

The Nitro Girls thing is interrupted by DOUBLE J himself, Jeff Jarrett, recently arrived from the WWF. He immediately says the championship tournament is “a big work,” which I’m sure sounded like a good idea if you were on cocaine. Jarrett is still wrestling today; he’s currently a titleholder in AAA. He’s had one of the most remarkable careers of any American wrestler, yet I’ve never really enjoyed him.

Another match in the It’s A Big Work Tournament. Perry Saturn vs. Eddie Guerrero, which in theory should be a great match. So far each match in this tournament has featured one wrestler who is no longer alive. There are empty seats on the hard camera side; Mark notes that the revamped WCW logo reminds him of the final flag of a soon-to-be-vanquished country.

The match is not great. A few decent spots, but then David Flair runs in and hits Eddie Guerrero with a lead pipe, allowing Saturn to get the win via the Rings of Saturn. It last six minutes.

We’re backstage, and the Revolution have Torrie Wilson imprisoned in a backstage area. “This is a great hiding place; they’ll never find us!” exults Shane Douglas, in front of a camera crew. Chris Benoit arrives and locks most of the Revolution inside a caged area, allowing him to beat on Dean Malenko. Everyone is wearing what would today be classified as Mom Jeans. Wasn’t Benoit part of the Revolution? Eventually he’d jump to the WWF along with Saturn, Malenko, and Guerrero, as the Radicalz. You could tell they were extreme, because they scorned the letter ‘S.’

Hall and Nash walk out, wearing street clothes. “It seems these new bosses we got from up North can’t have a wrestling show without the Outsiders,” Hall says, in a reference to Russo and Ferrara that 99 percent of the audience wouldn’t understand. Nash is wearing a FUBU jersey. His meandering promo is interrupted by Goldberg, who is standing in the crowd, wearing his gear and holding a microphone. As one does. “You’re both next!” Goldberg says. Technically, they can’t BOTH be next, Bill.

Macho Man and Gorgeous George come out. I don’t know why her wrestling name was Gorgeous George, but she wasn’t the worst person to wear the mantle created by George Wagner. There were so many terrible Gorgeous Georges. Even in the twilight of his career, Savage is still a compelling, charismatic performer. “Don’t hunt what ya can’t kill, cuz ya can’t kill The Madness!” he cautions, adding “I ain’t no punk bitch!” He takes some shots at Hogan and Flair. Gorgeous George is chewing gum and looking a bit lost. “I got too much money in the bank to get punked out by punks like you!” Savage yells, although it’s still unclear to whom he’s referring. Then he says he and Gorgeous George are leaving. OK.

The Filthy Animals are searching for Torrie backstage. How did they find Shane Douglas’ great hiding place?? But the Revolution have moved off to another backstage space to complain about how Chris Benoit beat Malenko’s ass.

Next WCW title tournament match: Madusa vs. Meng. Oh God. Madusa looks legitimately unwell. Everyone who knows Meng is terrified of Meng. He’s like nuclear war. This is not a pioneering intergender matchup: none of Madusa’s offense is effective, while Meng just stands around and growls like an animal. Madusa wrestled Bull Nakano a lot, so this probably wasn’t the scariest opponent she’d faced. Meng wins in about four minutes with the Tongan Death Grip. Remember when it was a big deal that Madusa jumped to WCW with the WWF women’s belt? Boy, they sure made the most of that, didn’t they?

Evan Karagias comes out to help Madusa. “Isn’t he gallant,” Brain sneers, and for some reason he pronounces it “guh-launt” and it makes me laugh out loud. That’s how I’m pronouncing it from now on.

Nothing stands still. Malenko comes out and challenges Benoit and then leaves. Russo’s WCW feels like experimental theater, right down to the destruction of the fourth wall and acknowledgement of artifice.

Mark describes Hall and Nash as “two retirees going around, causing trouble,” and this is a perfect description of what they’re doing at this point. I’m omitting about half the backstage segments, because they all last about 45 seconds and seem meaningless.

Lex Luger and Miss Elizabeth come out, everything we know about what would happen later making it very hard to enjoy any of this. I think this is a match in the title tournament? The WCW commentary team does not do nearly as much recapping as today’s WWE announcers, and it’s kind of baffling.

It’s Luger vs. Rick Steiner, and a shirtless Jeff Jarrett comes out to join in on commentary. “We saw your shtick in the WWF, we know you’d hit a woman,” Schiavone says. “This is not the WWF, this is the WCW, and I am the Chosen One!” Jarrett replies. Jarrett is upset that he is being blamed for hitting Liz last week. Jarrett tries to hit Luger with a guitar and gets Steiner instead. Jarrett runs off and Steiner follows him. The crowd seems bored and angry. Luger wins via count. The match was maybe three minutes long.

Kidman and Konnan are backstage. Konnan calls the Revolution “mark busters.” I can’t look at Kidman without seeing Peter Missing. Have you ever heard Missing Foundation? It’s really challenging stuff. What a group they were.

Another title tournament match, this time between Kidman and Konnan, fellow Filthy Animals. There’s a ref bump 45 seconds into the match. Harlem Heat comes out and beat up Konnan and Kidman. Who’s getting humped now, gentlemen, hmmmm? Now Rey and Eddie come out to fight Harlem Heat. In the ring, Kidman gets the pin on an out-cold Konnan. The match lasted two minutes at most. The secret of Vince Russo is that Vince Russo is not a wrestling fan.

Buff Bagwell’s in the ring and vowing to break all the rules. “I’m going to take every little thing that’s ever been sacred in this business and I’m gonna relieve myself all over it.” Then he says, “I’m not doin’ a J-O-B, a job, for nobody ever again!” He calls out “the two idiots in the back writing this crap,” which, Jesus. Two giant bald guys in suits com out who say “We represent the two idiots in the back writing this crap,” and then proceed to beat the stuffing out of Buffing.

We’re back from commercial, and Chris Benoit is going to wrestle Dean Malenko in a Mom Jeans Beatdown. No, it’s a last man standing match, but they’re both wearing mom jeans, without belts. That really bothers me for some reason. This is a really good match, the only good one of the night so far. Not entirely surprising. There’s no way to reflect on Chris Benoit without the shadow of his hideous crimes hanging over everything, but for whatever it’s worth, he was one of the best wrestlers of his generation. He had a graceful ferocity and total commitment to what he did that very few wrestlers have ever matched. Benoit wins.

The Filthy Animals run out to beat on Malenko, then Shane Douglas and Asya come out with Torrie Wilson. Torrie Wilson is notably taller than her captor, Asya. They should’ve got Nicole Bass to be their Chyna-alike. Douglas kind of sucked, didn’t he?

Jimmy Hart comes out with Hugh Morrus and Knobs from the Nasty Boys. Was there a new Nasty Boys with Morrus in place of Sags? Or was Knobs moonlighting? I’ll tell you what: the Nasty Boys put together a surprising number of extremely fun matches. This is not one of them: Sting comes out with a baseball bat, beats down Knobs, and gets the pin. I guess this was a no DQ match?

One thing to remember in the Nitromare: nothing has to make sense.

We’re backstage with Tenay and Bret Hart, who has what I think is a storyline ankle injury. Bret interviews like an earnest hockey player, which was part of his appeal. He didn’t have to scream or act like a lunatic to sell you on a match.

Now there’s a tag match between Konnan and Kidman and the defending champs, Harlem Heat. Konnan is also wearing FUBU; were they a sponsor?

I’m flummoxed that they’d allow so many empty seats facing the hard camera. Why not send people in higher sections down to take those seats? This is AWA-at-the-end level inattention to detail.

Meanwhile, in the match, Harlem Heat are beating the shit out of the Filthy Animals in a mostly uninteresting fashion. It’s a slog. There’s an inexplicable screw job finish that has Schiavone asking “Who won?,” which is always a good sign. The answer: the Filthy Animals won because ... Kidman bridged out of a pin?

Nitromare: Nothing Has to Make Sense

DDP and Kimberly come out. My God, Kimberly was attractive. And Page was insanely over with WCW fans; it’s galling how badly he was mishandled by the WWF. Did you know Page sued Jay Z over the Diamond Cutter hand gesture? They settled out of court, so we still don’t have settled legal precedent on whether you can trademark a hand gesture.

David Flair comes out. DDP is mad at Flair because Flair’s dad slept with Kimberly. Flair pulls out a crowbar and cheap-shots DDP, then starts whaling on him. David Flair looks like the character in a movie about rural 19th century America who’s described as “a bit touched.” Like a character who accidentally kills or injures a major character and then commits suicide in helpless despair. It’s not ... a great look for a pro wrestler.

DDP gets kayfabe stretchered out. Well, I believe he’s the winner by disqualification, so there is that.

Back from commercial. Hall and Nash, in street clothes, are in the ring. Their opponents appear to be local strippers. They’re not given an introduction, so we don’t know for sure. One of them motorboats Scott Hall. The crowd enjoys it, because wrestling fans in the 1990s were not very sophisticated. The other stripper is tagged in. “This is what it’s all about,” Tony says. Nash comes in. “The hot tag! The big save,” Tony says. One of the rare moments when I feel like Lou Thesz. A third stripper with balloon-sized fake breasts comes into the ring. The Outsiders lay down and get pinned. Who says Kevin Nash wouldn’t do jobs in WCW?

Goldberg mercifully runs into the ring and spears them both. The crowd likes it, but is also horny and mad that the woman with the huge fake breasts didn’t take her shirt off. The replay is brought to us by the Air Force, which at the time was using the slogan “Aim High.” Not a lot of that in Nitromare, I’m afraid.

I think it’s main event time. God, I hope it is. I’m so weary. Bret Hart hobbles out to the ring. He’s wrestling Goldberg, who has one of the all-time great entrances in pro wrestling history.

Tony says Bret’s shin is hurt, when earlier we were told it was his ankle. Later, Tony says it’s Bret’s ankle. Razor sharp.

Goldberg was not a great wrestler, and with Bret selling a broken ankle, it was hard to carry the big dude to a credible match. The story here is Bret’s insane pride and resilience, and it’s going well initially: the crowd rallying behind him as he tries to fight back against the onslaught from Goldberg. Goldberg does a good job of looking conflicted about wrestling a guy who’s less than 100 percent, which adds to the story. Goldberg finally starts working on the injured leg and then breaks the hold, hoping the ref will stop the match. Hey, this is actually not bad!

Bret fights out of a corner and applies the sleeper, which leads to, merciful God in heaven above, a ref bump. The Outsiders and Sid Vicious run out to take out Goldberg. Nash hits the most spectacular move in his arsenal, the sidewalk slam. Goldberg is out and Bret covers him for the win. This sucked.

Grade: D

Signs in the Crowd: WCW = Where Chumps Wrestle; Everyone Hates Rey, Man (so Nineties); Ryan Gill is Gay (also very Nineties, in a bad way); IM SINGLE; Goldberg Kicks Ass; Big Sexy in the House NWO 4 Life; Hall = Ratings; Filthy Animals = Circle Jerk; Can’t Stand Me No Fruit Booties; Buff is the Stuff; WWW. Rantsylvania . Com (still active! It’s Scott Keith’s blog); WCW Monday Maestro (was there really a person who liked the Maestro enough to make a sign?); Joe B is a Candy Ass; I Pimp Pimps; Russo Where’s the Gambler?

#NItromare #WCW #1990s wrestling #Vince Russo

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eighthchiharu · 6 years

Text

Stridercest Week, Day 3: Meet/Cute! [Guardiancest, Mafia AU]

Written for B! :)

Bro meets David at an underground poker game.

It's romantic, in the old-fashioned sense of the word -- dashing, classicly heroic -- when David bursts through the door and grabs one of the players by the back of his jacket. He yanks the 18-year-old kid out of his seat, away from the fleecing he was about to get at the hands of Bro's compatriots, and rounds on the rest of the room with a glare so fierce that Bro's sure a piece of his own soul -- what was left -- was just incinerated under the magnified pinpoint sunlight of David's displeasure.

"You ought to be ashamed," David snaps, and his Transition lenses are so old-man on his young thirties face that Bro has to fight not to smile.

Who the hell is this oblivious nerd?

"Break it up, all of you. Go home!"

There are men in this room, and one woman. All of them over 18, most of them over 27. They're not children, but David doesn't seem to notice that. He does notice Bro, however, lounging at the back of the room in an incredibly out-of-place leather armchair, two guards leaning against the wall nearby. One of them has a hand in his black jacket, but Bro waves, a staying gesture.

David squints, glowers again, and hauls the poor little rich boy out of the room, issuing more threats about parents and expulsion.

It's goddamn adorable.

So maybe they didn't meet, exactly, since Bro didn't get to say word one, but first impressions are, as they say, the strongest, and it isn't long before Bro has the Zahak brothers do a little research for him. Who was that masked man? Where does he live? Who are his parents, what's his income, and do they have his social security number, because that'll give Bro the really good dirt.

adly, there's little dirt to be found, besides his pathetic profile on Tindr that declares he's bisexual -- or maybe it's a happy lack of dirt, because something about David makes Bro want to try a little. Put in a small dollop of effort. Dress up, find the dweeb, and turn on the charm. It seems incredibly easy, like slaying a dragon with a nuclear bomb, but Bro can't get that indignant, scolding look out of his mind. He wants to see it again, face-to-face.

He has the Zahaks do some careful recon work, and within the week Bro knows David's favorite coffee place, his favorite donut place, his favorite Indian food place, and his favorite place for Mexican. The man does. Not. Cook. It's horrendous that someone that brave and dumb and self-righteous doesn't know his way around a frying pan. Even Bro can make tamales or cannolis when the need strikes.

It's all right for now, though. Time for a little swooping in, saving the day, just like David seems to enjoy.

One late afternoon when David is on his way to the Mexican restaurant for some take-away, a meal his arteries are probably gonna regret if he keeps up his regular order, which Bro is sure he will, Bro sets one of his young, nimble-fingered kids into action. Burritos with everything can't be good for anyone on a weekly basis, and Bro is going to solve this tiny health problem with a combination of slick thinking and city charm.

For today's outing, Bro is dressed in a black jacket and slacks, a white shirt with pinstripes so faint you have to be right on top of him to notice their gray striations, shining faintly, polished Italian loafers, but no socks. No tie. He's Mr Casual, Mr Everyday Joe. Nothing to see here except ordinary human perfection, don't stare, please, it makes everyone uncomfortable. He waits on the corner, watching the action unfold with the mirrors on the wings of his pointed sunglasses. Fagan ain't got nothin' on Bro when he's testin' his kiddos.

David is about ten feet out the door when wham -- the kid slams into him. The burrito hits the ground, the kid's foot smashes the goods -- and while David is dazed, the kid lifts his wallet. No money, no lunch, and when the kid takes off running at a pace Bambi would envy, no one to blame.

Bro can't suppress his smile this time. Good thing he's facing the other way.

He doesn't waste his window, though. He spins around and is at David's elbow before the man can finish pushing his nerd-alert glasses back into place, the low groan of dismay only just starting in the back of David's throat as he realizes his meal is sidewalk mash.

The vocalization only cements Bro's resolve, no pun intended. He speaks up, hands in his pockets to keep from seeming like a threat. "Hey, that sucks. You okay? Kids today, am I right?"

"Yeah, I -- man, my burrito! I didn't even see that guy, he just appeared out of --" David finally looks up from the burrito remains, the paper bag wet with sauce, the smell of peppers and grilled meats wafting up tantalizingly, a final salute to its now-wasted tastiness. He looks up, and his mouth falls open.

It was dark in the back of the church they were using for the poker game. There's no way David recognizes him. But even if he does, that's okay. Just means Bro has to shift gears, come in with the back-up plan, the one that involves a little more strong-arm and a little less wine-and-dine --

"... shit, you're hot," David blurts out.

Bro is about four inches taller, and now his smile really won't stay put. "Thanks. You ain't bad yourself."

"I mean -- I mean, uh, I'm -- I do movies. Direct movies. Not do them -- I'm a director. I just mean that -- that was a compliment. For film. You know, because --"

"-- because movies," Bro finishes along with him. Goddamn, this guy really is fucking innocent.

"Yeah," David agrees, finally managing to get his gaping under control. He tugs his shirt into place, brushes a hand down the front of the soft cotton, spreading folds thin enough that Bro can see David's trim physique beneath the loose fabric. "Anyway. I'm fine, thanks. Nice of you to ask -- wait. Aw fuck, cmon, no." He drops a hand to the back pockets of his dark, old jeans, then to his front pockets, then the back ones again.

Bro's enjoying watching David pat himself down, especially running his questing hands over those slim hips, but he spares David another moment of public agony by asking, as if he didn't know, "Somethin' wrong?"

"My wallet!" David moans, and wow, Bro makes a promise to himself that if he gets David alone someday, he's gonna try to get that exact sound back, just as long and languorous as it was, but with Bro's name instead of the billfold's. "The little shit got my wallet! Aw, fuck."

The word is coarse, and surprising for some reason. David exudes charming suburban class, despite his claim as a worldly movie maker, and Bro didn't expect any epithets that would routinely be banned from classrooms. Admittedly, that'd be a rule for younger students, but Bro's golden eyebrows raise all the same. "Damn, that's messed up. Can you call and cancel your cards?"

"Yeah, I can do it on my app. He didn't grab my phone, probably 'cause it's just a Moto." Unhappy, and probably hungry, David pulls his phone out and opens his banking app.

Now that's a little too trusting. Bro puts out a hand and covers the screen, his Rolex flashing gold in the late sunlight. "Hey, don't do that out here. Tell you what, since you lost your dinner, let me take you somewhere. You can cancel your stuff there, and get some food so you don't starve while they mail you more plastic and make you wait four days for the privilege."

If David knows what kind of watch it is, or what kind of jacket and slacks (Tom Ford) or what kind of shoes, he doesn't give it away in the slightest. He just pulls a sad face as his stomach growls like some kind of anime protag. "I can't -- okay, you didn't hear that. "

Bro shrugs. "Sounded hungry to me."

David actually blushes the slightest bit. "I can get food at the commons, really. Thanks, though. You're -- it's nice of you."

"I know a great Mexican place. Burritos like seven-tier cakes. Fattest things you ever saw, and cheap beer to boot. Nothin' tastes better with good Mexican than shit beer."

That's not entirely true, but if David's teaching at a uni, it's about what he's used to. The man's stomach growls again, and David glances around, as though afraid someone might be offended that he's accepting burrito offers from a stranger. "... you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure. All us hot people are sure."

David makes a face, the blush vanishing. "Uh huh. And where's this amazing Mexican place at?"

Bro names a couple of streets, and watches as David fights some internal battle that Bro long ago gave up on, or relinquished his right to even take part in. There's very little conscience where Bro's concerned; just legality, and which side of the law it benefits him to be on at any given time.

This time, he wants to be on the right side. For this guy. For now.

"... yeah, all right." David finally gives in, slightly suspicious, except for the thunderous snarling coming from his belly. "Sorry, it's just -- thanks. I appreciate it. It's seriously kind of you, very cool. If everyone was as decent as you are, we'd live in a very different place."(edited)

Amen to that, Bro thinks. He nods toward the corner. "It's this way. C'mon, ain't a far walk. Just a few blocks."

David nods his blond head, the lenses of his glasses slowly lightening up as the sun sets. They're still dark, but Bro can see the outlines of his eyes through them -- and over them, since he's so much taller. He can see the part in David's hair, the couple of rare strands that seem more silver than blonde, and he wonders how David's scalp would feel beneath Bro's lips. How firm David's waist will be, how warm his hungry stomach.

The last makes him laugh, and when David asks what's so funny, Bro has to make something up. It works, though, and David falls into step beside him, not even noticing the Zahaks drifting along in their boss' wake. Watching. Ready.

#guardiancest #stridercest #bro strider #alpha dave #stridercestweek #day 3 #my writing #fanfic #au #homestuck

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welovekpopscenarios · 6 years

Text

Friction (Fallout!AU Woozi x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

With your rifle damaged, you had no other choice than head to the nearest city to get it repaired. You didn’t expect the person doing the job to be such an insufferable jerk, however. But things become interesting the more you get to know the man repairing your weapon. Fallout/Post-Nuclear War!AU.

Fandom: Seventeen

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Woozi x Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, Woozi and Reader being assholes to each other

Word Count: 3955

A/N: Will I ever stop writing for Seventeen? No. Will I ever stop writing game au’s? Probably not. As I said in my Mingyu one, don’t get put off by this being a Fallout AU, it isn’t that central to the story, and I hope it’s still enjoyable for everyone to read, but just ask me if there’s anything you’re confused about, I’ll be happy to answer! I wanted to write for Woozi bc I absolutely adore him and why not write for your bias wrecker haw haw help. But yeah, this is a classic enemies to lovers trope bc I’m a sucker for that type of stuff. Also just picture Jihoon being like, a weapons mechanic or whatever and being sweaty and working hard and ugh stop it. I really hope you give it a chance and enjoy it! Happy reading, ily all!

- PART 2 -

The heat of the sun bore down on your skin, sweat pooling into nearly every crevice of your body as the sun seared into the leather bonds and cotton long johns that sat on your frame as a pathetic excuse for armour, leaving you more than irritably sticky and exhausted. The gravel crunched beneath your boots as you made your way through the tore up streets, dodging stray pipes ready to slice your head off from their position in the walls and climbing over car wreckages whose engines have long been silenced over 200 years ago, eyes half-heartedly scanning the corners for raiders or thugs ready to point their pistols at you and steal the caps stashed at the bottom of your rucksack.

Not that you felt like you cared at the moment, to be quite honest. The blaring sun and the hours long walk, sneaking past enemies and taking out the ones who caught you have, to put it frankly, completely drained you faster than you drained all your water supplies in a single day. A raider could easily pop out from whatever hidey hole he’s dug himself, put a shiny one right between your half-closed eyes, and you’d thank him for putting you out of your misery. You were that tired.

And what made this hellish journey even worse was your destination – and your problem. Some time ago your favourite rifle took a tumble from your position on the broken, open second floor of a house you were staying in one night, and when you hopped down to retrieve it, you were heartbroken to find it smashed at the barrel, trigger bent sideways, and completely useless.

Normally you would just toss the weapon aside and grab the newest one you could find, making do, a common occurrence in the wasteland. But this rifle meant something to you, it was special. It was your first one, given to you by your father before he…well. It was important to you, and you needed it fixed. Unfortunately, you didn’t know how to repair the thing, and so that brought you to start your trek towards the last place you wanted to be.

Diamond fucking City. "The Great Green Jewel" of the Commonwealth.

Diamond City – while a hub of trade, services, security and life – was also home to complete nutters and crazies, and that wasn’t even counting the ones trying to kill you yet. Brawlers, thieves, con-artists, and now synths were apparently added to the mix, the city was a complete shitshow, to put it kindly, and to put the icing on the sweetroll, it was all controlled by a racist asshole who liked to keep his civilians as obedient as he thought he could. But, that being said, the city was the only successful one in the Commonwealth, booming with activity, and the only one you somewhat trusted closest to you.

And so you walked for days on end; starving, parched, and sick of it all. Your lips were cracked and drier than the trees standing in the countryside, feet more swollen than a Super mutants head, and limbs moving slower than a Brahmin cow. But still you walked. And by the grace of whatever sadistic deity left above, you reached the entrance of the city, the guards shifting in their positions and shooting you suspicious glares. The one directly outside the gates lifted his gun to you, standing straighter, prepared to shoot you down where you (barely) stood should you try anything. Not that you had the energy, even if you wanted to.

“Hold up,” he grunted, shoulders hunched into a defensive position while you wavered in place, swaying slightly side to side in order to keep yourself upright. “Who’re you and what’s your business here?”

You tried to reply, you really did, but all that came out was a lousy croak of your name, followed by a short coughing fit. “I’m here for weapon repairs,” you managed, breathing heavy, and so completely done with this conversation already. As if you were going to make the city any worse.

The guard shuffled, moving his balance foot to foot, as he mulled you over, eyeing you head to toe. A guard taking watch on the rafters whistled to grab his attention, the young mans’ eyes flitting upwards to him in surprise.

“Let em in, Kookie. They ain’t gonna cause any problem, and they’re just here for business. Just let em through,” he ordered, the toothpick in his mouth moving with each syllable that rolled off of his tongue, scratching at his back lazily as he leaned against the railings. The guard – Kookie – furrowed is brows in uncertainty, eyes flickering between your deadpan face and the other guard. He licked nervously at his lips, fingers fumbling around his rifle.

“But, Johnny, Mayor McDonough said-“

“McDonough said keep the bad ones out. And my excellent judge of character says they ain’t a bad one,” he drawled, fixing Kookie with a look that screamed ‘are you that dumb?’ “McDonough also don’t want anything stopping business in his city, especially a greenie guard. That’ll look very bad on you, kid.”

Kookie look like he wanted to say more, but what could he say? He was only new, and Johnny has been manning the entrance for years. He has to trust his superior. Nodding in satisfaction at Kookie’s compliance, he turned his gaze to you, flashing a smile enough to rival the Cheshire Cat’s you’ve seen in those books your father showed you when you were little. “I’ll open up the gate for you. Head on in, dollface. Welcome to Diamond City.”

You were too dead to make a comment on the nickname, instead throwing a lacklustre salute in Johnny’s direction and ignoring Kookie’s scowl as his eyes followed your form, heading deeper into most popular civilisation in the Commonwealth.

What struck you first was the lights, the entire city lit top to bottom in various types – open flame, bulbs, neon signs, even floodlights – the entire city illuminated and glowing, which only served to highlight the mass of citizens sprawled throughout the area. The noise levels were high, something you weren’t used to unless it was from the occasional scream of pain in the distance. The noise was filled with chatter, people actually having conversations, or promoting their trade from their stalls scattered throughout the centre, and music from the city’s radio station echoed throughout the space faintly, creating an almost happy atmosphere as you walked to the centre.

It was completely alien to you, to see this many people together and not have them try to shoot you, or watching them fight, or any other negative you could find in the book. It also made you do a double take on the city’s reputation. While you were cautious of the metropolis, a seed of mistrust planted firmly in the pit of your gut, you reasoned that the city wouldn’t have stood for as long as it did if it really was full of lunatics and thugs. Maybe this place wasn’t that bad.

Maybe.

When your jaded eyes landed on what looked to be a restaurant in the very centre, manned by one of those Protectron robots and wearing what looked to be an absurd chef’s hat placed neatly on his metallic head and stirring a large pot, you nearly wept with relief, dragging your heavy legs and plonking yourself on one of the stools, burying your head into your arms on the counter in front of you and heaving the longest sigh you think you’ve ever made in your existence.

"Nan-ni shimasho-ka?"

You slowly raise your head from its place in your arms, eyes searching around the area for the person who addressed you, only finding one guy sitting a seat away from yours, slurping on noodles contentedly.

"Nan-ni shimasho-ka?"

You faced forward, the lights on the Protectron gleaming as he spoke, the waves in his voice bouncing with an electronic twinge. You shot him a confused stare, but he was unperturbed as expected of a robot, continuously stirring his large pot of noodles automatically.

“What?” you asked, positively baffled. Were you too tired to understand basic speech now?

"Nan-ni shimasho-ka?"

You heard a chuckle resonate near you from the only other occupant at the noodle bar. He shot you a friendly grin when you turned your head, still chuckling in pity at your expression.

“Just say yes,” he told you ominously, and while you narrowed your eyes in distrust, you did as instructed.

“Ye-es,” you dragged out the word, confusion lacing your tone and a brow raised on your dirtied face. The robot’s metal claws picked up a bowl from the table, monotonously spooning noodles into the chipped ceramic dish and pushing it towards you when he was finished.

“That’s Takahashi, he cooks the noodles here,” the man explained, inclining his head to the robot who happily stirred his pot. “The noodles cost 20 caps, just put em in the box on the bar.”

Nodding in understanding, you took the sufficient caps from your bag, placing them in said box and promptly digging in, practically inhaling the food your stomach cried out for in the past few days, barely even feeling the burn on your tongue as you swallowed the savoury substance, eyes nearly falling shut in happiness.

“Thanksh man,” you mumbled around a mouthful, too impatient and hungry to stop eating and address the guy who helped you. He smiled slightly at you as you ate, spooning his own a lot more gracefully into his mouth.

“No problem, I was confused when I first got here too. I’m Scoups,” he introduced, hand reaching out to shake your own, his nearly encasing yours whole with how large it was. You returned the greeting once you swallowed. The red glow from the fairy lights strung around the tarp of the noodle bar cast shadows on his smiling face, a genuine smile, such a rare sight in the wasteland. “So, what brings you to Diamond City? Looking for a place to stay?”

You licked sauce off your lips, swirling your noodles absentmindedly in their bowl. You nodded, nails tapping against the table. Scoups bobbed his head in understanding, folding his thick arms on the countertop. “Do you know anyone who can repair weapons?” you asked, and Scoups grinned, mischief swirling in his dark orbs.

“Look around,” he laughed, a wave of his arm accentuating his words, your eyes roaming the space that was littered with all types of services – from mechanics, armourers, merchants, even a hairdresser. “The better question would be where can’t you get it repaired. Pick your poison. But if I were you, I’d go see Woozi. He’s the best in the City for a reason. I’ll take you to see him after you’ve finished eating. You look exhausted.”

You smiled at him in gratitude, one he returned amiably, and finished your meal, listening to him as he explained the layout and manners of the infamous Green Jewel that was Diamond City. A short while later with a belly blissfully stuffed and feeling rejuvenated, you followed Scoups as he led you to one of booths in the city, this one covered with various bits and pieces from weapons hung around the sides and a simple metal sign with ‘Woozi’s’ carved into it hanging high above. Scoups didn’t walk the full distance to the stall, only pointed out its location and mumbling a ‘good luck with him, you’ll need it’ and a ‘see you later’ before he was heading off in the direction of what looked to be a bar.

Edging closer to the stall, you could see the parts more clearly, the grey of the booth littered with scopes and barrels along the walls, some weapons sitting on display on random boxes for all to see, looking in better condition than any gun you’ve ever seen, even shiner than anything you’ve ever seen. Standing at the entrance, the stall was smaller than expected, only bearing the essentials and locks for protection. Sitting at a workbench was who you suspected to be the man himself, fiddling with a shotgun and a look of utmost concentration upon his face that could only ever be found on the most skilled marksmen.

Sweat lined his forehead, falling from his hairline and down his temple, and the occasional oil mark was splattered across his face, on his cheeks, chin, even the bridge of his nose. His teeth bit into the skin of his lower lip, the flesh red and plump from constant worry, and his eyebrows were furrowed almost angrily, as if frustrated with his work, twitching every so often in annoyance, nostrils flaring with every heavy breath that ached to leave his chest. He was definitely one of the better-looking men you’ve seen in the wasteland – a strange feeling in your chest spreading through your tired limbs the longer you stared at him. He had a strange allure, certainly, a man dedicated to his craft with an air of no nonsense about him that was a well needed trait for survival. And that tingly feeling in your stomach was certainly strange, perhaps even more alien to you than the city you stood in.

“You’re in my light.”

Huh?

“What?”

A sharp exhale left the lips you’ve been focusing on far too much to be normal just moments ago, his gloved hands placing the shotgun down carefully and shifting in his stool to face you, pulling the gloves off finger by finger as he stared at you with an expression that almost made you flush with embarrassment, as if you had just done the most stupid thing possible.

“I said,” he spoke deliberately slow, like one would when dealing with a child who didn’t understand what they’ve done was bad, and it had sparks of annoyance flashing through you. The nerve of this guy! “You’re in my light. Or are you deaf? Too many beatings to the head?”

You now understood why Scoups wished you luck when dealing with this guy. You needed it, because each passing second only made you want to punch this guy so hard he’ll be headed straight for New Vegas on the other side of the country.

“There’s light everywhere, jackass,” you retorted, glancing around and at the sky. It was still midday, still hot as hell, and just when you thought you were feeling better, you get sent to this jerk who’ll be responsible for fixing your rifle. If you’ll even let him, at this point. “Or are you that petty?”

Woozi looked untroubled by your comment, resting his left elbow on the table and leaning his weight on it, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. A smirk you wanted to kick right off his pretty face.

“I need to be able to see what I’m doing. You don’t get to be the best in the city by doing a half-assed job,” he boasted, looking as smug as a raider who just found a huge box of caps on some poor helpless traveller he butchered.

“Then I suggest find a candle and some matches, day light doesn’t last forever,” you suggested cheekily, pleased with the scoff he gave and downturn of his lips. God, this was infuriating. You don’t know why you’re getting so worked up over this. “I need my rifle repaired,” you settled for getting straight to the point. The sooner you could get into a bed, the better.

“Well, no shit. It’s kinda what I do,” he sassed, his stupid perfect brow raised and dark eyes scanning your form, head to toe. You squirmed under his scrutiny, suddenly conscious of the dust caked on your face, the scars littering your body, the dirt hidden beneath your nails. It was foolish, really. Things like good looks and hygiene weren’t a priority anymore, but for some reason you felt like you should have at least scrubbed up a bit before coming to see this man.

Which was absolutely ridiculous. It’s not like you had to impress him.

Certainly not.

You barked out a sarcastic laugh in response, face dry and showing no semblance of humour whatsoever. “Funny, twerp,” his lip curled into a snarl at the insult, “I know that. I was told to come here because you were apparently good. Scoups sent me.”

“Scoups?” he questioned in faint surprise. He hummed, regarding you thoughtfully before eventually sighing in resignation. “Show me this rifle of yours, and I’ll see what can be done,” he sat up straighter, hands facing palm up and awaiting your prized possession. You reached into your rucksack for the rifle that lay sadly at the bottom, dragging it out carefully and placing it into his hands, watching as that concentrated expression from before returned to his face, looking much older than you expect it to be.

His slender fingers toyed with the weapon, running up and down the barrel, pushing the trigger around and giving it a shake, an awful rattling noise resounding from the simple action and simultaneously putting a grimace on both your face and Woozi’s. After another moment of inspection, he placed the rifle down on the table next to the shotgun and left his stool to rummage through crates of spare parts and tools, metal clanging bouncing against the walls of his booth.

“I’ve never seen a barrel that badly smashed before,” he observed, planting various tools onto the surface of the workbench, the table soon filling with wrenches and screwdrivers and pliers, more than you’ve ever seen in one spot before. Taking a seat once again at the table, he placed the shotgun to the side, focusing his attention on your rifle again as he brought it to eye level, a tut of frustration leaving his mouth. “I can fix the trigger no problem, but the barrel is another story. If I was you, kid, I’d just dump it and get a new-“

“No!” you blurted out, panic putting a fresh weight on your chest. You needed this to get fixed. Woozi stared at you in bewilderment, eyes wide in confusion and fingers stalling their movements. There was a beat of silence as you simply stared at each other; Woozi silent as he awaited and explanation, and you silent in shame, heat crawling up your neck. “Please,” you plead, voice near mute but heavy with desperation. “This gun means a lot to me, and I really need it fixed. I can’t do without it. Please.”

It must have been the waver in your voice, or perhaps the shake of your hands, or even the dulling of your eyes that had Woozi’s hardened stare softening until was just blank, returning his gaze to the weapon in question. His tongue poked at his cheek and you watched the action, a cold feeling freezing your body in place as you waited in horrible anticipation. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes, swiftly looking away when he met your saddened expression, a faint blush blossoming on his skin, and then he was rolling his eyes, huffing out a quick breath and turning his body around.

“It’s gonna take some time, and a lot of supplies,” he announced, his glare having lost the venomous edge it had and instead just a plain old bothered expression similar to an old man’s. “But, I might be able to get it fixed. No promises though,” he added quickly, but you were too elated to really care, body sagging in relief and a grin stretching ear to ear on your muddy visage.

“Thank you so much,” you beamed, that heavy weight lifting off your chest and your heart feeling brighter for what felt like the first time in months. The blush on his face grew darker as he saw you smile, his own smirk growing on his lips as he gave you a sly look.

“Gonna cost you a good amount of caps too so don’t look too happy, sugar,” he drawled, and your joy began to deflate slowly like air out of a tire. Right, the cost. Shit.

“What’s the damage?” you inquired, forehead creasing in worry as you thought of the little cache in your bag. Fuck, you didn’t need this to burn a hole in your savings, you still need to find a room to stay in and get food and drink. Woozi examined his tools and the rifle, mentally calculating the effort it would take to repair it.

“Giving the time and supplies I need, I’d say around…500-600 caps.”

“500 fucking caps?!” you shrieked. “I don’t even have half of that! And I still need to find somewhere to stay!” Fucking hell, you really couldn’t get a break, could you?

Woozi made a hissing noise that sounded like it was half in mock sympathy, shrugging his shoulders in a ‘what can you do about it?’ sort of motion. “Well, I guess you’re gonna have to find some work around the city then. Plenty that needs to be done, I’m sure. In the meantime, I’ll be slaving away over your precious rifle. But it’ll be done. I’m not a genius for nothing. So, will you have the money or does this conversation end here?”

Your fists clenched at your sides, once again supressing to urge to knock his teeth out of his skull, and clearly, he could tell, smirk growing and eyes narrowing in a challenge. “I’ll have the money. Just…please fix that rifle. I’ll pay you when you’re done.”

“Don’t worry, your rifle will get repaired. But I only accept half up front, and the rest when the jobs done,” he explained. Ah, just another bit of Deathclaw shit dropped on top of your day. This’ll leave you with a dent in your caps, hopefully you can find some work soon, or else you’ll be broke and living on the streets without any way to pay for the gun you’ve walked miles to sort.

“Fine,” you grumbled, hands hurriedly pulling the box out from the bottom and pouring them directly onto Woozi’s workbench, watching as some toppled off the edge and onto the floor of his workshop, loud clinks ringing in their wake. At least you still have that other little bag of caps hidden in your spare clothes. Woozi looked pissed at the mess you made, chest blowing up and deflating thickly as he tried to contain his anger. After all, he couldn’t really say much, you had given him the caps.

“There should be around 220 caps in that,” you announced, closing your bag and shifting it on your back. “I’ll have the rest when you’re done. Bye”

And then you were off, walking back into the throng of people of Diamond City, eyes open for any opportunity for work and shoulders slumped in misery. Woozi was baffled by you, to say the least. In all his time working in this God-forsaken shithole of a city, he’s never met anyone quite like you, quite so…like him. He’s met compliant, kind customers, and he’s met outright assholes who he almost refused to service if the pay wasn’t worth it, but you were different. He got a kick out of how much he pissed you off, how your lovely face would scrunch up in irritation, and tasted his own medicine when you threw it right back at him. Definitely more than meets the eye, with you. But as he stared at your rifle, thumbs rubbing against the dents and cracks, he figured that he’d be done with you soon once this was over and never have to see you again.

Oh, how wrong he was.

And oh, what an interesting week this will prove to be.

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