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adora-but-ginger · 2 years

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Holy Ground-Ch.9

Pairings: Matt Murdock x French! Avenger! reader

Warnings: the usual that comes with this series, swearing, someone being drugged unconscious, matt being a stupid little piss boy who can’t express his emotions, angst, a panic attack, yeah i think that’s it.

Word Count: like near 7.5k haha (remember when i said 4k was the most i’ve ever written?)

Chapter: 9/?

Read chapter eight here

Read chapter ten here

Holy Ground masterlist found here

A/N: My first Matt fic! I got inspo from @cressidaclearwood ‘s series, so definitely go check that one out too. Please do not repost my work. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know!

oof so it’s been awhile. some updates: i have been absolutely swamped with midterms, but now that they’re done and over with i can get back to doing what i like--writing! also i just found out that i got accepted into the university i want to transfer to, so that’s super cool. thank you all for baring with me!~L

translations will be at the end of each chapter

She knew it wasn’t smart to sneak out that night. She had been offered a nice, comfortable bed, as well as an actual good night’s sleep here at Matt’s.

Yet, she located the window next to the fire escape, and climbed through it.

She felt like she was taking advantage in some way of what her new friends had offered, but the urge to help protect those who couldn’t protect themselves overshadowed that. She had on clothing that she could move around in, and she figured that if she didn’t do too much tonight, she should be okay. Because while she knew that Karen was a sound sleeper, she had no real clue about Matt. Besides when they fell asleep together.

But that was different.

She assumed Matt must like a breeze because the window was propped open a little already, and from the pile of blankets swamping his body (to a point where she couldn’t even see him), she assumed he was out like a lamp.

She was now perched up on a rooftop that she wasn’t familiar with, trying to grasp the differences from where she usually patrolled from. The sounds of New York always soothed her in a weird way. It was like a breath of fresh air hearing the city that never slept staying true to its word. A weird, slightly odor filled, loud, breath of fresh air.

A noise from behind her snapped her back to the present. She whirled her head to the source and was found in a little bit of an awe. She had no idea how he could find her so easily, and yet her slightly more than acquainted vigilante equal stood before her, standing in that brooding stance that she found nearly laughable.

“Well good to see you too, sunshine.”

“You haven’t been out that much lately.” He pointed out, cocking his head a little to the right as he strode over to her.

“What can I say, I’m a busy gal. I’ve got more to my life than this, you know.” She met him halfway. “This is more of a hobby per-say.”

He ignored her comment and continued past her, brushing her shoulder with his as he moved to the edge of the building. “I have intel on where Fisk is going to be tonight. We should go soon if we want to stay hidden.”

With a roll of her eyes, she ended up next to his side. “Ever the killjoy.” She mumbled to herself, speaking so softly she barely recognized that she said it out loud.

“I heard that, you know.”

She looked at his covered face. “I feel oh so threatened.”

He ignored her again, keeping that serious facade going. “We need a plan. I’ll show you where you’ll be staked out first, along with the surroundings, then I’ll head to my spot. I checked it out before you decided to show up, so I have a pretty good sense of the layout.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, back it up a second. How did you know I was even here then?”

His response was merely a shrug. “I heard your heartbeat.”

She did a double take. “Man, who are you?”

“I told you, I’m the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.” He spoke with indifference, absolutely no emotion leaving him.

“No, you’re dramatic is what you are. Mr. ‘blah blah I have a secret life and like to hurt bad guys.’” She dropped her voice to as low as it would go, impersonating him as badly as she could. “‘But I don’t kill because I have really weird morals. Wilson Fisk, you’re going down.’”

She hoped he realized she was just speaking in jest, as she actually appreciated his company and his weird morals most of the time. He must have, because seconds later she heard that rough demeanor shatter as a-dare she say it-laugh arose from him.

A familiar laugh.

“I think I preferred you calling me Westley over that.”

She cautiously chuckled at his response, because she recognized that laugh, but she just...couldn’t place it. Testing the waters in an attempt for more intel, she replied as cheekily as she could. “What can I say, I think I know you.” She waited for a response, but if he seemed like that phrase meant anything to him, he didn’t let it show.

“We should get going, Buttercup.”

With realization, her jaw dropped. “Wait a second! Did you watch the movie?” He was already beginning to climb down the side of the building as she stayed frozen in place, amusement coursing through her.

She got no response.

Meeting him on the ground, he barely allowed her time to catch up to him, still staying silent. “You cannot just drop that one liner on me and walk off. What did you think of it? I need to know!” She was now shoulder-to-shoulder with him by this time, matching his quick pace.

That same laugh flowed through him again, and he shook his head. “Come on, we’re almost there, it’s only a few more blocks down.”

She huffed. “Fine, but once we’re done with this, you’re telling me what you thought of it.”

His response, she had to admit, almost made her fall to her knees.

“As you wish.”

It was over. The trial, the waking up at the ass crack of dawn to go to a courthouse, the poorly made coffee offered, all of it just--done. It was like a movie as they all walked out, having been bombarded with camera crews and journalists as soon as the sun hit their eyes. This was a big case, and that meant that the jurors would at least take the rest of the day to come to a decision.

If she thought her anxiety was ever bad before, the feeling she had as she walked down the stone staircase quickly took the gold.

Matt had led the way, walking out first. Foggy and Karen both had an arm over the avenger, all three of their heads ducked as they followed the man in the red spectacles ahead of them. Tailing behind as a bodyguard of sorts was Jimmy Woo, hands on the back of Foggy and Karen. People were screaming their names from every side, nearly crushing them within their sheer amount. The little group was trying to escape as fast they could--Matt had called a car to pick them all up outside the courthouse prior to them leaving, and she couldn’t have been more thankful for him than in that moment.

With the swarm moving from beside them to behind them, she chanced a glance up. She didn’t know what she was expecting, really, but it definitely wasn’t what she saw. Lining the sidewalks were the people of Hell’s Kitchen, shouting and holding up writing on poster boards and cardboard and anything that could have words on it demanding her release. Keeping her face only slightly raised, she showed a smile to those who could see it as she ended her descent of the steps. Shouts and signs saying Team Cap! surrounded her, and she was baffled to say the least. Sporadically she saw and heard those who opposed her, them being people who sided with Tony, but they were nearly drowned out by those on her side. New York had many, many, things wrong with it, but the residents of Hell’s Kitchen protected their own, and they fought like hell for them. There was a reason, after all, as to why it was called Hell’s kitchen.

Almost immediately as the car doors shut, a giant unanimous sigh of relief was heard. Her voice was the first one to become audible. It was soft, gentle, and nervous.

“Now we wait?”

It was Karen who replied.

“Now we wait.”

When they had arrived back at Nelson and Murdock, things took a turn for the worse. Nothing seemed off at first, until everyone briefly parted to their own respective areas. She had walked over with Karen to show Jimmy the newest addition to the office, brought by Karen. It was a little green succulent, decorated with spikes and surrounded in a small pot.

They spoke in unison.

“Il s’appelle Jimmy!”

“We named him after you Jimmy!”

He looked taken aback, to say the least.

“You-what? After me?” His usual hard exterior broke, the hint of a smile cracking through. “That’s actually really sweet of you guys.”

“It was Y/n who thought of it. I just bought the plant.”

She shrugged. “What can I say Woo? She brought it home and we knew it was meant to be.” She held the potted plant in her palms, a fond look on her face as she looked at its details. “You are quite a succulent, Jimmy. I mean that in only good ways, of course. Here.” She gestured for him to place his hands out, to which he obliged, palms together and open. She delicately put the little guy in his hands, him staring at it like someone had just handed him a baby.

“You’re an honourary member of Nelson and Murdock now Jimmy, with the plant and all. So welcome to the team!” Karen put her hands on her hips, and in the distance, Matt’s muffled voice could be heard calling out to Foggy, asking him to come to him. They paid no mind to it though, focusing instead on the green spiky plant.

“Jimmy?” She spoke cautiously, and the nerves could be heard as the word was said.

“Yes?” He looked up at the speedster.

“About the trial...where will they send me if I’m found guilty?” The air turned thick and somber within the instant, Foggy’s footsteps offhandedly being registered within her mind as he rushed over to Matt’s desk.

“I’m not sure I can really tell you th-” he cut himself off as he looked up and met her eyes. They were cold-no not cold-scared. He took a breath, and she realized that he too had sworn to keep some aspects about all of this under wraps when he agreed to her case. It didn’t occur to her until then just how much trust had formed between the pair as his next words left his mouth. “It was house arrest at first, before you pleaded not guilty. Then they talked about the raft again, but thank god that idea was shot down quick. I think at most you’ll be serving a couple years, but...can I be honest with you?” She nodded, to which Jimmy looked around, leaned into the three of them, and whispered. “I think they’re going to rule you not guilty.” He straightened his back out quickly, like he was being listened to. “I’m rooting for you.”

She drew her eyes to the plant, then back up at him. “Thank you, Woo. You’re a good person.”

“And always welcome here.” Karen added in.

She opened her mouth to offer to take back the plant, but Foggy’s worried shouts made themselves heard first.

“Um? Hey Y/n? Can you come here?” His voice sounded strained, and the three looked at each other before she shrugged and headed towards the duo of men.

“...everything alright?” She hesitantly stepped into Matt’s office, peaking her head in before fully entering. She saw Foggy was pinching his fingers on the bridge of his nose, and Matt had a hand over his mouth, his head snapping to her direction as she came into their space.

Their voices were solemn, fear shaking the little stability they had. “Matt found this on his desk. I don’t know what it says, but it looks like it’s...Russian? Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s good news.” Her heart stopped, or at least it felt like it did. Shooting her eyes between the both of them, she stepped forward until she was able to lightly grab the roughly textured paper from Foggy. Holding it in her hands, her breathing hitched as she read the stupidly neaten words scribbled down on the sheet. Тоска. латунь. брошюр. полированный. двадцать два. фонарь. морская соль.

Her head rose as she recognized them, and she felt a wave rush through her, a dizziness overcoming her. She shoved the paper back into a chest rather harshly, muttering an apology as she did so. She couldn’t tell who’s chest it was, but her vision briefly blurred and the horrid memories came racing back into her mind. Whoever’s chest it belonged to took the paper from her, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Reading the words didn’t really have an influence, it was when they were spoken that they were lethal. She just hadn’t seen them in so long, seen them outside that stupid book, that she sent herself into an almost instant panic attack.

She must have temporarily blacked out, because the next thing she recognized Matt had an arm on her shoulder, murmuring words she couldn’t comprehend to her, paper in his hand.

Her breath was staggered as she nearly begged at them. “Get-get that...that thing away from me. Sh-shred it, rip it, get it-get it out of my sight. Please.” They didn’t need to be told twice as Matt handed Foggy the paper, him then ripping it into shreds before her eyes. Her blurred vision returned as she looked towards the blond, whose gaze was on the man next to her, an unspoken conversation passing between the two of them as he nodded his head once. The feeling of Matt’s arm suddenly grew heavier upon her left shoulder, and she shrugged it off. She knew he meant well, but she couldn’t have any physical contact right now--she felt like she could crawl out of her skin, and anyone adding to that repulsed her even more. She backed up to the closest wall behind her and slid down it, hugging her knees to her chest.

Matt luckily didn’t take offense to her action, instead opting to crouch down before her at a respectable distance. He was still speaking, but she couldn’t understand a single word he was saying, the ringing that had now formed in her ears overtaking it all. She shook her head, but then realized he couldn’t tell what she did. She looked up at Foggy, who said something in Matt’s direction, to which Matt cinched his eyebrows together and then turned to her, trying to figure out how to provide comfort in this situation. And though the last thing she wanted in that moment was to be near another person, she compromised with herself, reaching out to grab for Matt’s hand letting him know that she appreciated his effort. She found it quickly, grasping onto his fingertips and squeezing lightly in hopes that he would understand. Call it a superpower, or maybe just his empathetic nature, but he squeezed back, and then shifted himself onto the floor next to her, fixing his hand in hers so that their fingers were intertwined.

And they sat like that. Seconds, minutes, hell even hours could have passed, she didn’t know. Her eyes remained closed as she tried to slow down her breathing, taking deep inhales, holding for a few seconds, and then releasing her breath. At even the subtlest of movements her eyes shot open, her senses being acutely increased as she fought to bury any efforts the assassin had at making an appearance. It wasn’t as if she would take over just from a glance at the words, but she made her presence known to her, letting her no that she never truly left.

The presence beside her shifted, and his thumb experimentally swept over her knuckles. A few silent tears were now staining her face, but she had to get things under control. She heard Matt’s deep breathing next to her and attempted to mimic his actions. He must have caught on because his shifted in just the slightest, setting a pace. Her vision started to clear as they breathed together, the ringing in her ears also beginning to dwindle. Out of what seemed like thin air, Matt was suddenly handing her a water bottle. She could feel everyone on the other side of the open door, not daring to poke their heads in, but trying to be available if things went to shit. Her focus returned to the man on the side of her as he took their laced fingers and laid them over his chest. No words were exchanged as her hand now felt his deep breaths, his steady heart beating, and his warm hand. She raked her eyes over his features as her inhales and exhales returned to a sense of normalcy, taking in the beauty that was Matt Murdock. His face, dimples, the glasses, his hair. It occurred to her once again that she had never seen his eyes before--he always wore his glasses around her. And there, on the floor, she vowed to herself that she would like to change that, if he was willing to too.

A few more minutes, and she had recognized them as actual minutes this time, passed with a now welcomed silence. The air had shifted once more as she fought with knowing about the presence of the assassin, but being aware that Matt was there calmed her down, and set her at ease. Usually she repulsed anyone within a five-foot radius of her when the assassin came to mind, but with Matt it was...different. She drank him in, submitting every detail she could to her memory bank, hoping to replace the horrors that took residence there. She had a feeling he could tell she was staring at him, but she was thankful he didn’t comment on it.

She could also tell that he was waiting for her to break the quiet.

When her words entered the air, they were quiet, almost inaudible, and timid. “Merci, Matthew.”

He must have heard her though, as he responded in just a slightly louder tone than her own, his tone laced with concern.

“Are you alright?”

She squeezed his hand again. “Yeah, thank you. I-I’m sor-” he cut her off, a serious, caring look overcoming his features.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. You’re okay, you’re safe with us.”

She felt his thumb swipe over her knuckles once more—a feeling that she didn’t hate—and she decided then that she liked the way their hands felt together.

“Can we stand?”

He nodded, and the pair stood up, never letting their intertwined fingers go. They walked together like that until they reached the doorway, before she gave one last squeeze and returned her hand to her side. Walking through the doorway first, she was greeted by the rest of the team directly on the other side, as she suspected they would be. They immediately started drilling her with questions and pleads of worry, and she knew they meant well but she was still slightly overwhelmed. Matt followed behind, and she was thankful when he started talking.

He cleared his throat, quick remembering Jimmy’s presence and rerouting his plan of action. He still couldn’t give away that she was staying with him.

“Uhm, I think she should probably go back to your place Karen. Think of today as a half-day. Actually, you know what, we should all take a half day. Foggy, what do you call them?”

Foggy jumped at the opportunity to offer aid. “Self-care days. Take the rest of the day making dinner, watching tv, hell if you’re even feeling bold, go for a walk.” He looked between the group. “Last time I had one, I spent like four hours on making enchiladas and catching up on Criminal Minds.”

Karen nodded. “I like the sound of that. That alright with you, Y/n?”

The woman in question nodded her head. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

"If anyone hears news on the trial, including me, contact the others asap.” Jimmy cut in, pointing to his phone. “Until then, I trust you Karen to take her directly back to your place. Remember, no pit stops. Have a good night, guys.” Karen nodded in acknowledgment, sending a quick smile his way as he took his cue and left.

As the door clicked shut, all attention was drawn back onto her.

“Seriously, are you alright Y/n?” She assumed Foggy had told Karen what was on the letter while the two were in Matt’s office, two sets of pitying eyes being laid onto her. She nodded slowly, her voice still timid.

“I don’t know why I didn’t expect it, if I’m being honest. Lucky for me I was taught how to refrain from reacting to them on paper. Lucky for you guys, too.”

“Can we check the cameras to see who broke in with it?” The air grew awkward at Karen’s suggestion, the boys’ faces twisting up in embarrassment.

“We, uh, well here’s the funny thing.” Foggy ran a hand behind his neck.

“We don’t really have cameras in here.” Matt piggybacked.

“Or locks on the doors.” Foggy moved his body to face Matt’s. “We should really get onto doing that, huh.”

“You think?” Karen chided.

“Can we leave please?” She interjected. She felt bad for doing so, but the thought that the culprits behind this could literally be watching them right now sneaked into her mind, and and infected any other thought. That, and she wanted to get as far away from where the letter laid, even though it was now in shreds.

“Oh my god yeah, let’s get you out of here.” Karen lightly guided her to the main door, shouting for Foggy to please grab their things on the way out. Matt stopped the duo in the hallway.

“I can walk with her from here back to my place. Now that Jimmy’s gone, it’ll look less suspicious with her guiding me back home.”

“Okay. Remember everyone, if anyone hears anything about the case, let the others know immediately, yeah?” Foggy gave a mock salute towards her as she finished speaking, which caused much needed laughter to break through the air.

Matt turned to the runner. “Ready to go?” He lifted his arm up in a silent invitation for her to take the lead.

“Yes, please. I’m exhausted.”

When they got back to his place, he had offered to cook up some food, and man was he a good cook. She practically moaned after she took her first bite of the zucchini he made, and it only got better from there. Their banter was flowing easy after he managed to bring her spirits back up, and at some point in the evening a thought passed through her head that this felt nice. She could get used to this.

But she couldn’t. No, she swore to herself that she wouldn’t stay longer than two nights, especially with people after her. But call it the aura of the flat, the layout, Matt--whatever it was about this place, she was enticed by it.

His gravel-like tone drew her out from her thoughts.

“You have a nice voice.”

Her fork clattered against her plate, unexpectedly dropping it at the compliment.

“I--uh-” She cleared her throat. Get it together. “-merci, Matthew. You have a nice one too.” He shook his head in disagreement, his eyebrows furrowing.

“No, I mean it. I hear tons of voices every single day, way too many if I’m being honest.” He mumbled the last part more to himself, his tone dimming down for a moment. “But yours, well, yours is like a breath of fresh air, a shot of espresso. I feel alive every time I hear it.” He released a puff of air, his hands readjusting the red glasses. “It reminds me of honey, and though I don’t like admitting it out loud, I’ve started to seek it out whenever I know you’re supposed to be with all of us.”

She was speechless. He was showering her with compliments, and by the shaky weight of his voice she could that this wasn’t a normal occurrence. Her chest got warm as he went on, and she noticed his cheeks had a light red dusting on them.

“Matt, I’m flattered that you think this way, but why are you saying this to me?” He was dancing a very fine line right now still technically being her lawyer.

He didn’t pay her interruption any mind though as he plowed on. “-and your accent. I can’t even put it into words how enticing it is, especially when you speak French. You-”

She placed her hand on top of his momentarily to get his full attention.

“Matthew. What’s going on? Why are you saying this? Are you okay?”

He slouched back a little then, moving his head to face the plate that lay in front of him. She could hear him take a breath before he responded, his voice still holding a soft tone.

“Yeah, everything’s alright. I just-” He looked up at her, thinking. “-I just feel bad for you. Not in a pitying type of way, just in a i’m sorry you had to go through all of this type of way. Plus, you have quite a history of people being unkind to you, and I don’t know-” He shrugged, his voice raising upwards an octave. “I just thought that through all of this darkness you’ve been facing lately, it would be nice to hear some good things about you. I’m sorry if I overstepped-”

He spoke like a poet, and she felt her walls crumble. “You didn’t, not at all. I guess I’m just not that used to people having good things to say about me. Thank you, Matt.” She grabbed his now empty plate, stacking it on top of hers and bringing them to the sink. She rinsed them off before heading back to where he was.

“Can I say one more thing about you that I think is nice?”

She chuckled slightly, and with a shrug and smirk replied, a small layer of cockiness now being made evident. “I won’t say no to an ego boost.”

Her joke caused a brief smile to flash by his face. “I like that you care. You pay attention to the little things, and well you’re only sometimes an asshole to us.”

She laughed at that, raising her palms up. “What can I say, I’m built different.”

His laughed mirrored hers, and that same thought from earlier flew by her mind once more. She liked it here. He had now stood up and strode over to her, his hands grabbing hers and pulling her up from her seat, their bodies now closer than they had been the entire night. “Seriously though, whatever happens over the next few days, I don’t want you to forget that you’re a good person. Because you are a good person. You were just put through a bunch of bad instances that you didn’t ask for. If you’re locked away, know that it is not on you. You did what you thought was right, and you protected your friend.” He paused, and the muffled sounds of the city at night filled the silence. “If you’re cleared though, I want to invite you to join our group, officially. You could join us for drinks at Josie’s and everything. Foggy will try to beat you at pool, and Karen will get you to sing. The whole nine yards.”

Her pulse had basically skyrocketed at the request. “I-” She searched his face for any sign that he was lying, but found nothing. “Thank you. I would gladly accept.”

“Great.”

Though all of Hell’s Kitchen was vibrant with the sounds of its inhabitants, the devil and the avenger found a moment of solace within the bustle of the city.

Noticing that they both hadn’t moved and were barely chests apart, she took a step back. “We should probably go to sleep, it’s getting late.”

He seemed to snap out of a similar daze, the gentle air around him pulling her in. Her eyes quickly moved from his spectacles to his lips, then back up to their original spot.

He seemed to realize that she was staring though, because a smirk appeared on his face. “We probably should.”

And yet, they stood, immobilized by what could be.

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. They stood across from each other, frozen.

And then she had to go and ruin the moment.

The words escaped from her before she realized what was being said, bursting from an invisible dam.

“I’m not going to prison if they don’t find me innocent.”

She didn’t know why she was saying it, especially to her lawyer of all people, but they were out in the open now. She saw his chest rise in a deep inhale, his head slightly moving back.

“I figured as much.”

She cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowing. “How?”

“Call it a gut feeling. Most of Team Cap disappeared if they weren’t put on house arrest, so I had a hunch you’d follow.” The tension that filled the room earlier was still there, but it twisted into a different form. “I also figure that you probably have contacts to Steve Rogers or Natasha Romanoff too, both of whom would help you.” Her walls, having been slowly crumbling throughout her acquaintance-and dare say-friendship with Matt, fell back into place instantly at the accusation. He was right, of course, but she didn’t like that he knew that. Her breathing quickened ever so slightly, and she could feel the electricity buzzing faintly in the air around her.

She was cautious with her next choice of words. “Is this lawyer Murdock talking, or Matt Murdock?” His answer didn’t relieve any of her worries, a pit having now formed in her stomach.

“A little bit of both, if I’m being honest.”

“You-”

“I’m just saying, if I know, I can guarantee that others are suspicious.” His tone now had a sharper edge to it.

“I can’t tell if you’re threatening me or on my side here, Matt.”

His voice was quieter this time around. “You know I’m on your side. I swore an oath in court to be, and even off the records I’d think you’re innocent. I just-” He drew his fingers up to his nose, pinching the bridge, and she thought back to Foggy doing the same earlier. He had bumped the glasses up on his face doing so. A few minutes seemed to pass before his voice was heard again. “Where do you think you’ll go?”

She focused now on the flooring, eyes searching the wooden panels. “I’m not sure. You’re right, about Steve, but I’m also infuriated with him right now, so I’m staying off his radar. I’ve heard Washington is nice this time of year.”

“Y/n that’s literally on the other side of the nation-” The sharp edge now had a pang of anger in it too.

“-and I can get there within minutes. I don’t really have any belongings with me, so I won’t have to worry about baggage.” Physical, anyway.

“You don’t even have a phone, how are people going to contact you?” His eyebrows creased together, hands now moving to his hips.

“I have no reason for people to contact me. I’ll go off the grid, maybe even find a little cottage. A little cottage would be nice, with a little library.” She mumbled the last part to herself, mind drifting to the pleasantness of that dream.

“Hey-hey.” He waved his hand at her, snapping his fingers a couple of times, mouth agape. “Yes, you do. You have people who care about you, people who-” His voice was laced with surprise and something she couldn’t quite pinpoint, not believing the words coming out of her mouth.

“People who care about me?” She crossed her arms, still being aware of the warm wave the faint electricity was providing around her. She was starting to get frustrated at him and she couldn’t figure out why he was suddenly speaking like this. “Steve abandoned all of us, including me. Natasha, Wanda, and Vision are off the radar, Bucky is in fucking ice-” Her accent was getting thicker as her frustration started to flow into anger. “-they were all I had, and merde Matt, I’m on my own now. I’ve had to this before, back in the 40′s, so I know I can hold my own. I might even appreciate the change in scenery, who knows. It-” she was cut off, the voice replacing hers now much louder than she expected it to be.

He spoke with a tone that made her stop talking instantly.. She’d never heard him yell before-or even raise his voice-outside of court, but here he was, shouting in a voice that wasn’t his own.

And his words were crystal clear.

“I care about you, damn it!”

They faced each other, his chest heaving up and down in an anger she didn’t particularly like, and it felt like the electricity had metaphorically flown over to him. She was left speechless, mind racing a mile a minute, but no words making themselves known. He sighed in an unrequited anger, fists opening and closing at his sides.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She by no means meant to match the energy he was giving off, but it was instinctive. And maybe it was the stubbornness rooted in her, but she made a point to differentiate their tones--while her words dripped with the same loaded anger, she refused to give him the satisfaction of a fight. He could tell, too, that she wasn’t giving him the response he wanted. He wanted to argue, that was what he did for a living, but she wasn’t going to give him that. Only one party was going to be raising their voice tonight, and it wasn’t her.

“What does that mean? You’re kidding me.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“What in my face shouts ‘this is all a joke’ Matt. I can never tell with you--you seem so interested in keeping me safe one day, and then the next act super distant. I could go on, Matthew. The number of days you show up late or not at all to the office? Hell, I’ve barely been there a few weeks and Foggy has been there more. Foggy. I’ve actually started to warm up to the guy and his occasional mismatched clothing options.”

The anger in him burned like a fire, and he started to pace around the open space.

“You, you are infuriating. We took up your case in pity, you know that right? There was a reason we were quite actually the last resort you had--it was because no one could stand you and your ego!” His voice still remained raised, and if she was being honest with herself, she really hated this.

“Well, you two still ended up taking me and my ego up in court. You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah, well, we shouldn’t have.” A smile laced with venom was sent her way, so she returned it with one of her own.

“Yet you still did chéri.”

“That’s another thing. You got us to like you, care about you, and then when things get too bad you plan to just run?”

She shrugged. “It’s what I do best, what can I say. I’ve never been one to ask for people to like me.”

“Yet I still do.”

“Yet you still do.”

A brief pause filled the room, the electricity now crackling between them.

“I should’ve never convinced Foggy to take your case.”

“Like I said, Matt-” He tilted his head at his name.

“Stop addressing me so much, my god.”

She crossed her arms. “What has gotten into you? Five minutes ago, you were giving me compliments, and now you’re saying you regret me? décidez-vous, damn it!”

He itched his forehead, sighing. He spoke softer this time, but the anger was still there. “Me? You are so confusing--I think one moment that you’re being rash at your decisions, and the next I want to comfort you. You infuriate me, and yet I want to kiss you! I just-”

She had become well aware of his self-destructive tendencies since she met him. That being said, she still felt torn as he drilled the next words into her.

“It would’ve been so much better if you had gone into hiding. Just taken up whatever offer Steve Rogers probably made you, because things would’ve been so much easier for us if that were the case. We never would have had to meet you.”

She had to admit, she was taken aback by the bluntness. He picked up his cane and started to head to the front door, but she refused to give him the last say.

“I think you’re lying.” He halted in place, her words gentle but sharp. “Karen and I talk a lot, and she said that she’s seen a difference in you from when I came into the picture. I think-” she knew she must have been hitting the target on at least some portion of her statements, because he hadn’t moved. “-you’re just terrified of the idea of another person being temporary in your life, due to, you know, the severe abandonment issues you have.”

It was a low blow, she knew that, but he was starting to make her furious.

“You’ve had a lack of care in your life, I’ve had a lack of stability in mine.” His voice tinged with something more than pulsing red now. Yearning.

She had started to develop a small hunch as he went on, one that she definitely shouldn’t voice. But the fire had already started, so why not add to it some more? “Which is why you’re trying to fight with me now. I have a strong feeling that your yelling at me is related to the level of care for me that you speak of.”

His lack of response was a response in itself.

“I think that you daresay like my company.” And with the look that swept his face, she knew she hit the nail on the head.

“What can I say, it’s the guilt I see in you. You radiate it, so do I.”

“But I have a reason to.”

“You don’t know me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know you well enough to know that you haven’t done half the amount I have to pile up guilt, and that’s not a competition. You’re lashing out because your little crush on me is fighting with your need to push people away.” His jaw clenched at that, and the air got thicker.

“You’re full of shit, you know that?” He pointed at her, adding extra emphasis to his thoughts.

“You just know I’m right, chéri.”

A shiver ran through him at the pet name. A shiver that truly made his words turn to ice. “I think you should leave.”

She stood there, baffled. “You can’t be serious right now.”

Yet, he pushed on. “Deadly.”

She switched up her tone to have a kinder approach, hoping he wasn’t really doing this. “Listen, I’m also being serious here, you and I both know that I probably shouldn’t do that. I can’t go to Karen’s. I-”

“Go to Foggy’s. Just get out.” She hoped that this him was just him talking in the heat of the moment, but the venom in his tone contradicted her hopes.

“Please don’t do this, Matt. We can talk this out. They’ll find me in no time if I’m out there the entire night. Plus, I feel the same if it’s the crush thing that you didn’t like me bringing up.” She hated that her tone had an edge of desperateness to it, but she frankly had no idea where Foggy even lived. Plus, she could tell he was tearing himself apart by saying what he did. The previous anger she had felt was now dissipated, replaced with unbridled fear of being alone out there. She could tell that this was just as painful for him as it was for her, and she hated that. She just hoped that he didn’t truly mean it.

He ignored the confession. “You said it yourself, you can run. Then run your way out of the city, away from me.”

A pause.

Then, she took a deep breath and nodded. “If that’s what you want Matt, then I’ll leave. I just-” the fear of being found by the monsters that once held her coursed through her veins. She shook her head, a humourless laugh filling her. “-you have a funny way of showing that you care for me, you know that?”

He matched her deep breath, the resolve he built up starting to crack. “Right now, I could care less. About the case, about the paper earlier, about you.”

And like that, the straw had landed on the camel’s back. Her breath hitched, and she stood there, in a state of shock. She kept trying to convince herself that he was just feeding into whatever punishment he thought he deserved for crimes unbeknownst to her, but man was that hard to do right now. With a shaky breath of air, she conceded. “Yeah, yeah okay Matt. I’ll go. But-” She could see him tense up as she walked to him. She laid her had upon his arm. He didn’t pull away. Tears threatened to leave her, but she refused to let them flow. “If you need me, I’ll be here for you. Because I don’t think your words are in tune with your heart right now. And when they are, let me know. Just because I’m leaving your place, chéri, doesn’t mean I’m leaving you.”

With that, she padded over to the front door to the flat, stopping at the doorway, wanting, hoping that he would say something, anything.

But he didn’t.

So, she left, walking down the stairs, out of the building, and onto the street. She sat down on the cement stairs that led up to his complex for a few minutes, deciding on what to do, where to go. She could try to find Foggy’s place, but she suspected that by the time she found it, it would be morning. She couldn’t go back to Karen, that would put her at risk. So, that meant the last resort. Mumbling under her breath a quick goodbye to no one in particular, she stood up, loosening up her joints and stretching her legs before she was going to set off into her long-distance run.

That run never came though, because as she reeled back to sprint off, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and the prick of something in her neck. As she tried to remove the strangers grasp, a wave of chills filled her body, felling like ice had just been poured into her veins, flowing through every muscle and ligement. She started to lose her balance, her head swaying.

The last thing that crossed her mind before she gave into the darkness was Matt’s stance as she headed out of his place for what could quite possibly be the last time.

She had barely regained consciousness before the wretchedly familiar words were being directed at her.

“Тоска.”

She flinched at the familiarity. The overwhelming stench of where they kept her came to her first.

“латунь.”

More came into her field of reality then, and she moved to get up. To get up and get out. It was all in vain though, because no matter how hard she tried to escape, the restraints that bounded her proved to be stronger. She even tried to phase through them, moving her body as fast as it could go to the point of her molecules changing states, but that proved to be to no avail either. These guys knew what they were dealing with.

“брошюра.”

A scream erupted from her then, her mind starting to fight itself on what was and what should be.

“полированный.”

Another shout emerged from her, followed by a string of cusses towards the man taunting her, standing not even five feet away. She looked up at him, reaching his eyes. A terrible, twisted smile appeared on his face.

“Oh, please, be my guest, come show me how much you’ve changed, убийца.” He walked up to her, now not even a foot apart.

So, she did the first thing she thought to do, and spit at him. This, to which, he didn’t take kindly to, a pissed off look now donning his face. The feeling of a closed fist shattered against her jaw.

“двадцать два.”

The assassin was starting to make its way out of the corner she banished it to, which cause her to yell not only in anguish, but also in pain. “No, you will not come back!”

“фонарь.”

With a last, desperate plea, she felt the assassin start to take back up the residence in her mind. She wasn’t there yet, but it was a losing fight. She fought for her last coherent words, words that she knew no one would hear, but she spoke them in a sob anyway. “Diable, aidez-moi.”

They barely escaped her lips before her body dropped, eyes darkening.

“морская соль.”

The man in front of her was now met with no resistance, no movement, nothing.

She was silent.

Cautiously, he spoke. “Good evening, assassin.”

And though the words spoken back to him belonged to her, they were not her own.

“Я готов отвечить.”

translations

Il s’appelle Jimmy!-his name is jimmy!

merde-shit

décidez-vous-make up your mind

merci-thank you

chéri-darling

убийца-assassin/killer

Diable, aidez-moi-devil, help me

Я готов отвечить-ready to comply

the trigger words:

Тоска-yearning

латунь-brass

брошюра-brochure

полированный-polished

двадцать два-twenty two

фонарь-lantern

морская соль-sea salt

taglisttttttttt

@eliwinchester-barnes @enjoymyloves @mshannah @pariahsparadise @saramaple @2guysonascooter @insomnia-bookworm

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nightswithkookmin · 3 years

Note

I am curious about your take on something. So Taekook probably hate the idea of Taekook, right? If Jk and Jimin are together (as I beleive they are) then the very idea of taekook has to be like sooo weird for everyone, especially when it results in hate directed at Jimin. So why don't Taekook agree to like NEVER LAY HANDS ON ONE ANOTHER in public. I know they shouldnt have to. They like skinship and all. And no one is going cray cray over jinkook or jihope etc. But its an easy fix? Maybe not?

Tradshippers... Haha.

The gag being Tuktukkers say the same thing about Jimin and Jikook all the time- if V is his soulmate and friend, shouldn't he keep his hands off JK? Shouldn't he respect the sanctity of his friends' relationship? Doesn't he care that his actions with JK hurt Tae? That he is wrecking another man's home, yadda, yadda, yadda.

Heard it all before. Not particularly impressed by that level of rudimentary mental adroitness- at all. It all flows from insecurities and or the shipper's dissatisfaction with how these people in reality interact with one another because that often tend to be in disharmony with their shipping fantasies about their OTP.

The shipping community in general is a fantasy bubble. Haven't done much research on its demographics but from my observation, it seems the younger demographic can't seem to detach fantasy from reality while the much 'adult' population'- perhaps, for fear of having their reality warped or their hearts broken, are too engrossed in reality as such tend to approach shipping with quizical glares at best, cynicism, skepticism and what I like to call a false sense of logic- at worst.

Then of course, there are those in between.

But one thing they all seem to have in common is their emotional response to the demystification of their fantasies. Like any fantasy, people tend to lash out at or carry resentment towards anything or anyone that threatens their false sense of safety built around their fantasy.

For Taekookers they tend to lash out at Jimin or even Jokers because they threaten their sense of ship safety. Jokers do the same with JK more so than Tae, but Tae too nevertheless.

Taekook, Jinkook and the other ships Jikooker's are threatened by are viewed as threats and looked upon with disdain and resentment only because they ruin the fantasy of Jikook for them and nothing else.

And if that's not the case, then these people are too invested in someone else's relationship and lack both personal and emotional boundaries- it's their relationship not ours.

You can't sit in your homes, behind the screens and pilot someone else's relationship or point out what is wrong with their relationship and feel strongly about it to the point you start demanding and dictating how they should relate with eachother or their friends- that's entitlement and borderline toxicity which is scary, not gonna lie.

Jikook and Vmin equally ruin the fantasy of Taekook for their shippers. And they look to Jimin as the grinch and killjoy, hence lash out against him without reservation.

In a perfect shipping alternate universe, Taekook or Jikook would be couples within a group where it's glaringly clear that they are couples and as such no other ship would compete or interact with them in a way that raises questions about the general perception of them as a couple unit within the group or threaten their status as such. But this is reality. Not fantasy. And it just doesn't work that way.

Most of these conversational topics you raise are about how people want their OTP to behave rather than how their OTP actually behave towards one another.

It's especially disconcerting when their disapproval of an interaction stems from them 'wrongly' labeling or interpreting that interaction as 'intimate' and or romantic and proceed to go on an emotionally charged rant on behalf of their OTP calling for them to instill boundaries.

Maybe Tae is not instilling boundaries for JK with Jimin because he doesn't have the right to? Because he is not in a relationship with either Kook or Jimin?

Maybe Jimin is not telling Tae and Kook to keep the skinship off cameras because he is not bothered by the 'hate he receives' because of their interactions?

Tae kook have been interacting on our screens for 7 good years. You think if Jimin found their interactions as problematic or disrespectful to his relationship with Kook that he wouldn't have nipped that in the bud?

Have you not seen him react a countless time to when he is uncomfortable with an interaction that crosses his limits or boundaries? It should tell you he doesn't have a problem with Tae Kook at all.

He only has a problem when an interaction crosses the line. Same with JK. And if due to his ideosyncracy he can't stomach an interaction, he averts his eyes. I don't think he would want them to stop interacting all together. If he did that would be problematic because they are all friends and he doesn't own Kook or vice versa.

Also the statement that Tae Kook need to keep their skinship off camera because Jimin receives a lot of hate because of it is a non sequitur. Tae kook is not the reason Jimin recieves a lot of hate in the fandom. Jikook is.

Taekook doesn't hurt Jimin, Jikook does. People lash out at Jimin because of his interactions with JK not because of JK's interaction with with Tae.

So the solution would not be for Tae and Kook to keep their skinship off camera, it would be for JK and Jimin to not interact on camera at all. I mean if we are being honest.

And all those who claim JK isn't protecting Jimin because his interactions with Tae is what fuels the passions of Tuktukkers towards Jimin, think again...

JK puts up boundaries with Tae as it is. Out of all BTS, they are the two who have openly admitted to having 'drifted apart' over the years- I wonder why. When Tae spoke about wanting JK to treat him as a friend rather than hyung, JK told him he couldn't do that because that would have led to a lot of fights between them. What other boundaries do y'all expect him to put up again?

Dude rarely nurtures his relationship outside Jimin within the group- responding to texts a whole year later and what not.

And even with this, Jimin recieves a lot of backlash regardless. I think we need to stop justifying hate. There is no justification for hate. No excuse is excuse enough for the traumatization of another human being.

JK equally gets dragged for filth in these shipping streets. Tuktukkers hate him as much as they hate Jimin because of his interactions with Jimin. Tae stans hate him. Jimin stans hate him. He is neither here nor there. He got called a pig, sissy, and all kinds of derogatory names when he pulled away at KBS when Tae wanted to hold his hands.

Jokers, PJM jokers drag him for filth in their gcs and shit and equally hates on him because to him he doesn't love Jimin enough or at all. Especially, when he doesn't interact with JM in a way that pleases them.

The problem is Jikook. Both Jimin and JK will have their peace of mind if they didn't interact at all and kept their relationship private. The best way for JK to protect his boyfriend from all this bullshit is to keep a safe distance from him and act like he doesn't know him or never met him- because that is how Kpop idols usually protect their relationships.

And yet, and YET, when he does just that y'all jump on his neck on every turn, screaming Jk hates Jimin and doesn't love him. I gotta ask-

WHAT Y'ALL WANT FROM JK?!

People just like to ruin beautiful things, don't they?

And while we are at it, let me address this Ask I got a few days ago claiming if JK loves Jimin then it doesn't make sense for him to want to act so loud with Jimin or express his feelings for him in a way that out's their relationship because that can hurt Jimin and bring him a lot of hate...

You think Jimin openly loving on JK doesn't bring JK a lot of hate too? Damn. It's the double standards for me. Lmho.

Listen, JM has a duty to protect JK just as much as JK has a duty to protect JM. By your logic, if Jimin loves Jk then he equally needs to stop doting on him in public because his love causes JK as much pain as JK's love causes Jimin- but Jimin can't stay away now can he?

Jimin had to ask JK permission to express himself the way that he does with him- on their Log when he asked JK if he was ok with him saying he loved him on camera. Jk had a need to keep their relationship private, Jimin had a need to keep it open and clearly didn't want to hide their relationship. But they have since outgrown their old selves. Their wants and their needs have changed- if you pay attention to JK's lyrics in recent times.

Their dynamics keep flipping. And they are constantly negotiating their needs, from my perspective anyway- let them do them. Y'all didn't seem to have a problem when in their earlier dynamics Jimin was the one pushing for them to be open with their relationship. JK eventually gave up his need to hide their relationship didn't he? And overtime he became comfortable expressing affection for Jimin openly.

Yet, suddenly when JK wants the same thing in their relationship y'all claim he is being unreasonable and unfair towards Jimin? Huh?

Granted, he over does it sometimes. Yes. Lol.

But you can't hold Jikook to different standards. They are both human and their feelings for eachother are equally valid. Their needs from eachother are valid in the same weight.

If Jimin gets to show the whole world just how much he loves JK and because of that many people are convinced Jimin loves JK more than JK loves him- even if half of the time he is using fanservice as a cover or even his persona as a cover, then why can't JK equally use his art or whatever means he prefers as a cover to show the world just how much he loves Jimin?

...Even if half of the time he is borderline outing him and getting him in trouble? Lol. That's just the love if you ask me. Hehehe.

Chilee JK, you make it hard to defend you sometimes! Lol. Just don't out your man. How hard is that!😭🤭

Seriously though, you don't think he wants people to see he loves Jimin too? Damn, y'all be reading Jimin wrong. Because Jimin loves it when JK shows the world he loves him... Did you see his face after Rosebowl? Why do you think JK keeps cutting it close? Dude is gunning for the points. Lmho. Jikook speak eachother's love language. Let that sink in.

If JK is pushing against the glass closet it's because he is convinced that that is something Jimin wants but is afraid to go after and he is the fearless one among the two. Y'all just be fighting the wrong battles. Lmho.

Jikook is asserting themselves against eachother. They are pushing eachother's boundaries and I don't think that is necessarily a bad thing.

You can't claim JK doesn't love Jimin and in the same breath condemn and disapprove of the ways he expresses himself and his love for Jimin- I think you need to free JK now!

Between Tuktukkers and certain Jokers, I don't know who is worse- Nevermind, I'm not a fan tradshippers in general.

JK is there to please his man not shippers and the way I see it Jimin looks like a satisfied customer to me.

If you are dissatisfied with Jikook, there are a countless other ships in BTS. Get on one. See how that goes. Lol.

Where were we, Anon?

Oh right, Tae Kook. Lol.

I think we need to learn to hold the right people accountable for their actions. The problem is not Tae Kook, or Jikook or any other ship. The problem is with the toxic shippers who use them as an excuse to perpetuate unfathomable hurt towards the boys and towards others.

I think Tuktukkers need to develop a better attitude towards Jikook. Jikooker's need to do the same about Tae Kook or Jin Kook.

Personally, I would rather Jikook kept their relationship private but I also understand their need to take advantage of the glass closet- secrets are hard to hide. They get heavy before they get easy.

And Jimin loves to be loved. He loves when you show him off. It's part of his love language. You can't date him and Keep him a secret- and still we question why JK doesn't want to hide him.

If y'all don't want to ship Jikook that's fine. I'll ship them myself.😒

Whatever decisions they are making, I support it wholeheartedly. I support them with every fiber of my being.

LONG LIVE JIKOOK. JIKOOK IS REAL.

Signed,

GOLDY

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robinrunsfiction · 2 years

Note

Ever so humbly requesting “director’s commentary” for For You (the one where Frank and y/n do a group project together and she thinks he hates her), Frank Iero on the Stage Who Will He Injure, and I Don’t Believe in Luck (Fun Ghoul x reader where y/n thinks Fun Ghoul hates her so she runs away and almost gets dusted) pls and thank you, I love your work so much it gives me life!

For You

So I actually struggle with writing the enemies to lovers trope. I have a tough time coming up with situations where two people can be so at odds and yet eventually fall in love, and so this one is sort of a cop out. The "enemies" angle is just perceived by the main character. Frank never actually has reason to hate her, she just assumes he does. And he doesn't!

This story was one that was written in chunks and scenes that had to be pieced together and ended up getting edited down a lot. There were variations of the dialogue where she was much more... I'm not even sure of the right word... sassy? I hate that word, but I guess that would be a fair assessment. Especially in the scene where he walks her back to her dorm, she does read as sorta defensive, but it's toned down from what I had before.

I had ZERO idea where this story was gonna go after the project was done. That was another part of it that I edited and reworked, trying to make the timeline reasonable. I figured it'd end around the end of the semester, but I didn't know how exactly.

I really like the scene when he comes back and she's able to say all the things that she's been keeping pent up, and just talks right over him, like no, I need to get this out.

“God you’re so soft and cute, I can’t believe I was ever intimidated by you,” just feels like peak dealing with Frank energy lol but I'm really pleased with how the story ended for not being sure about it from the get go.

Frank Iero On The Stage, Who Will He Injure

First of all, how amazing is that gif? lol

I totally dig this request because I'm sort of a slut for hospital bed feeling confessions. I mean in real life I am TERRIBLY afraid of hospitals, I FUCKING HATE THEM SO MUCH OH MY GOD! But in stories, especially ones that I'm in charge of, I know that the outcome is gonna be ok and I just love the vulnerability and the fear, and the comfort and all of it. Ugh yes.

I really like that this one is short and sweet and to the point. There are some funny lines, and Frank being a softie again and the whole thing is just a good time while getting stitches after taking a guitar to the head lol

But I think my favorite part may be this exchange:

“Shit, I think (YN) has brain damage,” Ray muttered from the doorway, as the Way brothers joined him, coffees in hand.

“Why’s that?” Gerard asked nervously before he saw you and Frank making out on the hospital bed.

“I just hope this means he’ll stop throwing stuff,” Mikey muttered.

I Don't Believe In Luck

Another enemies to lovers, and I think it's a bit easier in the context of the Danger Days universe. I think there's a level of I guess you could call it suspicious trust between Killjoys who have just met. You both know you're against BLI, but do you know that they won't blast you in the back and steal your food when you aren't looking?

Anyway, Fun Ghoul's problem with her being the fact that he's actually into her, but he's in denial of his feelings is fun. Like "Oh I hate her and her perfect face" sorta thing. Add in the jealousy factor of him thinking she was with Party, and that's just like ooh yes. You fool, you adorable fool lol

I love that he figures out that she didn't mean to leave because of the necklace. And I love the character development. The fact that he actually confesses his feelings AND apologizes? Yes, we love to see it.

I love the Danger Days universe so much. It's so much fun to play around with and I should honestly write more of it (and not just my OC)

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phoenix-downer · 3 years

Text

A Step Closer to Home

Sora’s stuck in Quadratum, alone, but a familiar voice comforts him and gives him courage to keep moving forward. His friends are waiting for him, and he wants to return to them, no matter what.

~1935 words. Post-Kingdom Hearts III and Melody of Memory. Gen, Friendship. Introspection, Reflection, Slight Angst, Hope. Sora POV. Written for @sorazine.

Sora never thought he’d get tired of seeing other worlds, but he sure was getting tired of this one.

Maybe it was because he was stuck here. Couldn’t leave like he wanted to. It wasn’t like this was an ugly place, or even a bad place, but all the tall buildings and skyscrapers were starting to feel more like prison walls boxing him in than a testament to all the cool things people could do with the right technology.

It was always cities, wasn’t it? Always cities he was getting stuck in. First The World That Never Was, and now this place. Quadratum, it was called. Full of more monsters he had to fight, but this time without the promise he would be able to get home.

Home. What he wouldn’t give to see it again. He missed the feel of the sand beneath his bare feet, the cold of the waves crashing against the shore, the heat from the sun beating down on his back. He was an islander, through and through, and he felt lost without his home. Lost without being able to see all the stars in the sky. He could barely see them from here—the city lights were too bright for that.

More than Destiny Islands itself, though, he missed his friends. There was an empty ache inside his heart where they should be. Did they miss him as much as he missed them? He almost wished they didn’t. Because if they did, that would just mean more pain for them, and they had already suffered too much.

It was okay that he was wandering around the streets of Quadratum at night all by himself. Really. The more monsters he fought, the better, even though it was pouring down rain. He just had to keep fighting and fighting and fighting. One foot in front of the other, till he stumbled on a curb and fell with a plop onto the wet ground, the rain pouring down around him and chilling him to the bone.

“Guess I really should’ve nagged Donald more about that coat, or asked Goofy to help me buy one,” he said as he huddled in on himself. His Keyblade lay on the ground nearby, and it glinted dully from the street lights. He was a little stronger than when he’d first gotten here, but it was still nothing compared to how he used to be able to fight. He was weak without his friends. Powerless. Always had been, always would be.

He wouldn’t change what he’d done. He didn’t regret saving them. Carrying their pain in his own heart was a part of caring. Their strength was his strength, their weakness his weakness, their smiles his smiles, their tears his tears.

But his tears weren’t their tears. They welled up in his eyes and dripped down his cheeks and mingled with the water on the ground, empty and sad and alone. No one came to wipe his eyes or dry his face; no one was here to share his pain like he’d shared theirs.

Maybe his friends were crying for him back in the Realm of Light, but the connections had been cut off as he’d crossed over into this realm. They could be crying their hearts out, and he still wouldn’t know.

Man, being alone really sucked. The empty ache in his heart throbbed, and try as he might, he couldn’t get the tears to stop coming. Riku would be giving him so much crap for this right now if he were here, because Sora was doing the exact opposite of pulling it together. What he wouldn’t give for some tough love from his friend right about now. But the floodgates had been opened, and he’d just have to let it all out till there was nothing left.

“I guess that’s the nice thing about the rain,” he remarked to no one as he wiped his eyes. “When the sky’s crying, no one else can tell you’re crying, too.”

It was like that story Kairi had told him once, about why it rained. One of her grandmother’s stories from Radiant Garden. The original rulers of Radiant Garden had lived in the skies, it was said, and when the king died, the queen cried for him so much that her tears fell from the sky and flooded the land. The people of Radiant Garden took those floods and built waterfalls and pools and canals, and those waterfalls and pools and canals gave rise to Radiant Garden’s beautiful flowers.

Sora had always thought the story was really sad, but sitting here soaking wet on the ground without a friend in sight, it just seemed so much worse. He felt as alone as that queen must’ve felt. But at least people remembered her and the king. No one would tell stories about Sora. He was just a nobody, stuck here in the darkness. Once he was gone for good, he’d fade into oblivion, and that would be that.

Getting up was pointless. He’d just have to keep fighting, and for what? So he could dream about seeing Kairi and Riku and the rest of his friends again? Maybe it would be better if he just stayed here and—

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

He wiped his eyes and looked around, but he couldn’t see anyone else. “Huh?”

“You don’t really think giving up is okay.”

He grabbed his Keyblade and struggled to his feet. “Who are you? What do you want with me?”

“Relax, Sora. I know you’re feeling down right now, but you’ll be okay.”

The voice was oddly familiar. Sora knew he had heard it before. Who—

“How do you know my name?” he decided to ask.

“Because I’m you.”

Sora tilted his head. “Huh? Now I really am confused.”

He glanced at his reflection in one of the puddles nearby. It still looked pretty much the same as it did earlier, just with more ripples because of the raindrops. How could this voice be his?

And yet, even as he thought about it, it made sense. The familiarity, the hunch that he knew this person. He would’ve recognized the heart of one of his friends immediately, and it wasn’t any of them. That must mean the voice wasn’t lying.

“I’m not the ‘you’ you are right now,” the voice explained.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“From your point of view, I’m ‘you’ from the future.”

“Oh,” Sora said as he tried to wrap his head around this information.

“I know you’re feeling down,” the voice said. “I know things are rough right now. And I’d be lying if I said you won’t face any more hardships before you make it home. Because you will, and you need to prepare yourself for them. You’ll have to face new enemies. Someone you think is a friend is gonna be an enemy, and someone you think is an enemy will actually be a friend.”

Sora’s head drooped. Things were going to get even worse from here? A friend was going to betray him? How was that supposed to make him feel any better? Hadn’t he been through enough already? He just wanted to go home to his friends. Was that really so hard to ask?

“I know all of that sounds bad, but don’t let it get you down,” the voice continued. “The night is always darkest before dawn, remember? But dawn will come. You’re gonna pull through this.”

Sora looked at his reflection in the puddle again. It looked very small and alone. “How do you know?” he asked the voice, and his voice also sounded very small and alone.

“Your heart is strong. It always has been.”

He let his Keyblade disappear. “But I’m only strong because of my friends. They gave me their strength. Without them, I—”

“Sora, take a look around you. What do you see?”

Sora sighed deeply. “I’m stuck in this city. My powers are a small fraction of what they used to be. I have to fight these monsters. And to top it all off, it’s still raining, and I’m wet and cold and I—”

“You’re right, it is raining. Do you know why?”

He kicked water onto the nearby curb. “Because the universe hates me,” he muttered with a pout.

“It’s the opposite, actually. Remember Kairi’s grandmother’s story?”

“The one where the queen of Radiant Garden cried after the king died? I was just thinking about it, actually.”

His older self sure was a winner, reminding him of sad thing after sad thing. Yikes. He hoped he wouldn’t be a complete killjoy once he grew up.

“This rain… it’s like the rain from the story,” the voice said. “Sora, this rain is the tears of our friends.”

Sora’s breath caught. No way. There was no way. He hadn’t been able to feel his connections to his friends ever since he’d come here. But was that because he hadn’t been looking in the right place?

He held his hands out as the rain continued to fall, as it dripped down his face and hair, and this time, he let it. This time, he closed his eyes and listened.

“Kairi and Riku,” he said. He could feel their hearts now as the rain fell on his outstretched arms. He could sense their pain. “Roxas and Axel and Xion, too.” This was like when he’d journeyed through the Keyblade Graveyard a second time as he’d searched for Kairi. His hearts were still connected to theirs somehow, and he could feel what they were feeling. “Terra and Aqua and Ven, Naminé, Donald and Goofy and the King.” His eyes fluttered open. “They’re all still with me. How did I not realize it?”

“Sometimes our connection to our friends doesn’t look the way we expect it to,” the voice said. “But you’re right. This is their sadness and pain because you’re gone. And they know you’re sad, too. They all miss you. Their hearts are trying to reach you, and right now, this is the only way they can.”

Sora wiped his eyes. He’d been so lost in his own pain that he’d lost sight of how his friends were doing, even though they’d been trying to reach him through the rain. He wouldn’t ignore his own sadness or pretend like everything was fine, but he couldn’t bear to make his friends cry like this, either. And they wouldn’t be okay till they’d gotten back what was lost.

“They’ll stop crying when I get home, right?” he said.

The voice chuckled. “Well, they’ll cry a lot more at first, but those will be happy tears. Then the crying will stop, yeah. And it’ll be replaced by smiling.”

“In that case, I better get back to them as soon as I can. I want to see their smiles again!”

“That’s the spirit!”

Sora smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Future Me. I know it won’t be easy, but I made a promise, and I’m gonna keep it. I will get home, no matter what. It might take a while, and I might go through a lot, but every step forward is always a step closer to home.”

The voice was gone now, but Sora knew he wasn’t alone. As much as it made him sad that his friends were grieving because he was gone, the only way to fix that was to return to them. And return to them he would, so he could make the tears stop and bring back the smiles on their faces.

For that, he would keep moving forward, one step at a time.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: A big thank you to the mods for organizing everything and the artists and other writers for creating such beautiful pieces! It was such an honor to have been a part of this zine for one of my favorite characters of all time!

#kingdom hearts #sora #sorazine #sora zine #sora kingdom hearts #phoenix writes #phoenix downer #kh fanfiction #kh zine #gen #friendship #post-canon #melody of memory spoilers #kh mom spoilers #long post

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always-and-forever-a-killjoy · 4 years

Text

Good afternoon fuckers, I wrote approximately 3k words in between roleplay, looking after kittens, and

Title: knight in a beat-up green jacket

Wordcount: 3055

Summary: Jet Star and the Kobra Kid are injured. Party Poison is having a rough time. Cherri Cola just wants to be helpful.

Warnings: Major warnings for hospitals, mentions of/implied serious injuries, and mentions of death as well as general awfulness. Please be careful when reading!

Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)

AO3 Link

(Actual fic under the cut)

Party Poison was going to cry. Or scream. Or pass out. Because the report had come in, Dr. Death Defying’s gravelly voice echoing through the radio with the dreadful news. Bad news from the zones tumbleweeds. It looks like Jet-Star and the Kobra kid had a clap with an exterminator that went all Costa Rica and uh, got them selves ghosted, dusted out on route Guano. And Poison’s world had shattered.

They and Fun Ghoul had driven out, as fast as the Trans Am would take them, searching for their brother and friend. Kobra’s bike had been lying on its side by the side of the road, broken and scorched, just like his brother’s body would be-

But Kobra had been alive, if barely, and so had Jet. So Ghoul and Poison had bundled them in and rushed them to the hospital, and the doctors had taken then away without even a single reassurance. All they had gotten was a grim “We’ll do our best,” from the head medic. And now Ghoul had xyr head in xyr hands as he and Poison waited anxiously and Poison was going to pass out. They followed Ghoul’s lead and buried their head in their hands, trying to breathe and mostly failing. Kobra could be dead right now, Jet could be gone and Poison wouldn’t even know, not until the dour-faced head medic came out and told them so. Their brother could be dying, in pain and without his friends, and Poison wouldn’t even be there.

Just as it seemed like they couldn’t bear it any longer, rough, scarred hands materialized in their field of vision, pulling their hands away from their face.

“Poison. Poison.”

“Fuck off,” Poison choked out.

“Poison,” Cherri Cola’s voice said again, very patiently. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“Nothing is going to be okay!”

“It is, I promise. I’m here-“

“And what’s a fucking wavehead going to do?”

They almost regretted the words, watching Cherri flinch. His voice was calm though, when he next spoke. “I checked in with the medics. Kobra is stabilized, but not ready for visitors. Jet isn’t out of the woods yet, but they think he’s going to be okay.”

Poison froze at that, hardly daring to hope. “They’re going to be okay?”

“They’re going to be okay.” Cherri was still holding their hands away from their face, squeezing them gently in his rough, calloused ones, but he let go and reached to wipe a couple of tears Party hadn’t realized were there off their cheeks. “It’s okay, don’t cry. They’re going to be alright.”

That only made them cry harder, more tears pouring down their face. A strangled sob made its way out of their throat, and they crumpled entirely, throwing their arms around Cola. His arms were warm when they wrapped around Poison in return, rocking them gently back and forth.

“Shh. Shhh. It’s okay.” Cherri kept repeating that until Poison’s sobs turned to sniffles, making vague noises of comfort as they took a few shuddering breaths.

He didn’t release them until a medic came over to tap him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, are you Cherri Cola?”

“That’s me. Is there word on Kobra and Jet?”

“The Kobra Kid is ready for visitors, if you want. He’s not awake yet,” they added as Poison sat up straight, clutching Cherri’s shoulders. “But you can go see him.”

“All of us?” Cherri asked, frowning.

“Only one visitor at a time.”

Poison leapt to their feet. Their throat didn’t seem to want to form words, so they gave Cherri their most pleading glance, practically begging. Thank the Phoenix Witch, he quickly nodded. “Poison will go, of course. I’ll stay here with Ghoul.”

Ghoul didn’t question that, and Cherri gave Poison’s hand a quick squeeze, flashing them a small smile. “Go on, see your brother.”

They tried to smile back, letting go of his hand as the medic led them through the whitewashed halls. It was too similar to Battery City for their liking, but at least in this building the paint was chipped and scratched, bits of graffiti scrawled occasionally here and there. Poison tried to focus on that instead of what this place reminded them of or where, exactly, they were going.

It felt like both too long and too short before they were entering a hospital room, staring at the figure on the bed. Kobra was so still, unnaturally so. Not that he was usually energetic, per se, but he was never perfectly still, always fiddling with something or other. He looked small lying there- he always looked small to Poison, even if they were a frankly unfair amount shorter, but now he looked even smaller than normal. There were bandages wrapped all around his shoulder and upper arm, and an IV sticking out of his other arm. Poison wanted to cry just looking at him, but their tears were all cried out so they settled for sitting in the chair beside him, grasping his hand tightly even though they knew he couldn’t feel it.

Kobra didn’t wake, but Poison thought they caught a tiny bit of movement, and their heart skipped a beat. “Kobra? Kobra?” He didn’t stir, and Poison settled back again, not releasing his hand. They were never letting him go again, they decided.

True to their resolve, they didn’t move an inch until the medic came back to kick them out, insisting that the doctors needed to look at their brother. Poison was left to find their way back on their own, winding through the too-white hallways and trying not to think.

Ghoul was asleep on Cola’s lap when they arrived back at the lobby, curled like a cat, and Cola put a finger to his lips in the universal motion of ‘shh’.

Poison approached quietly, settling next to the other two. “Ghoulie fell asleep?”

“Cried xemself to sleep,” Cola whispered, brushing a hand over xyr hair. “How’s Kobra?”

They could feel tears prickle their eyes again, remembering Kobra’s still body, but they blinked those away fiercely. “He’s…alive. Still passed the fuck out, but alive.”

“Thank the witch.”

“Any word on Jet?”

Cola shook his head. “I’m assuming they’re alive, since no one’s come to tell me otherwise, but no word otherwise.”

“That was so reassuring.”

He just sighed, the sigh turning into a yawn halfway through. “I wish I had more news to tell you, but no one’s told me anything- the reason I was the one being told news earlier is because I technically ‘checked them in’. I think you and Ghoul were having too much of a rough time.”

Cola’s yawn made Party yawn as well, rubbing at their eyes. “They just rushed Jet and Kobes in, didn’t ask us anything. We went and sat down, and then you showed up.”

“Ah. Yeah. They were looking around for people who were with the two injured ‘joys when I came in, I figured I’d just give them the info they needed.”

It rankled their pride to admit they had needed help, but “Thank you, Cola.”

That earned them a faint smile. “Never thought I’d live to see the day you didn’t call me Pepsi.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Of course not.”

They definitely weren’t leaning against him, not at all. That would be very undignified for Party Poison, leader of the Fabulous Killjoys. But they didn’t protest when Cola wrapped his free arm around them cautiously, pulling them closer on the shitty hospital waiting chairs as Ghoul snored quietly. And if they leaned a bit on his shoulder, who was going to say anything?

The next morning, Party Poison woke up in a shitty hospital chair with Cherri Cola’s head leaning on top of theirs and Fun Ghoul stretched across both their and Cola’s laps. All in all, not the weirdest place they had ever woken up, but it was definitely up there. Especially given that there was a killjoy (neutral?) in the colors of a medic standing in front of them.

“Ahem, excuse me?”

Poison blinked at them. “Fuck off, my crew’s sleeping.”

“Your friend is awake.”

They sat straight up, knocking Cherri’s head off them (to a lot of swearing from him, which they ignored). “Which one?”

The medic checked their chart. “The killjoy known as Jet Star.”

“And they’re awake?”

“Yes, but there are some…complications.”

Cola was somewhat more awake by now, blinking and yawning with another muttered “Shit.” He pushed his hair out of his face. “What complications?”

“They’ve lost an eye.”

Poison appreciated, in some distant corner of their mind, the way that the medic didn’t try to sugarcoat the words. They just said it, straight-up, which was far better than dancing around the subject, in Poison’s opinion. But the greater part of their mind was involved with worrying about Jet. How were they going to take the news? Would it be harder for them to do what they needed? Would they be freaked out?

“Fucking shit,” Ghoul swore from Poison’s lap, and they almost jumped. They hadn’t realized xe was awake. “Can I see them?”

“Yes, but only one visitor at a time.”

Ghoul cast Poison a pleading look. Although they would never admit it, not in this lifetime or the next, his puppy-dog eyes were very convincing. Not to mention that the worry in them broke Poison’s fucking heart. “Go on. I saw Kobra, you can see Jet.”

“Thanks, Pois!” Ghoul leapt up, almost toppling to the ground, and hurried after the departing medic.

Cola yawned and blinked at Poison. “Good morning, I guess. Sorry about falling asleep on your head.”

“I fell asleep on your shoulder, it’s fine.” They weren’t paying much attention to him, busy worrying about Kobra. “You think the medics would let me see Kobes?”

“Worth a shot.” He yawned again, running a hand through his messy hair. “If you want, I can talk to the head medic. They seem to have a soft spot for younger ‘joys, they’d probably let you see your brother if we ask nicely.”

Poison ignored the weird surge of guilt that Cola still hadn’t gotten to see either Kobra or Jet. They hadn’t seen Jet, and Ghoul hadn’t seen Kobra, so why should Cherri fucking Cola get to see either of them? “Great, let’s go ask.”

Cherri led them across the room, heading up to the tall and dour medic who had told Poison “We’ll do our best.”

“Hey.” Their voice was flat and calm.

“Hey…senior medic Dowdy, was it?” Cola’s voice was neutral bordering on friendly, and the medic’s face softened as Poison came to stand next to him.

“That’s my name, yep. And you are…Cherri Cola?”

Cherri nodded. “And this is Party Poison.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m assuming you two are here about seeing your friends?”

“We were hoping Poison might be able to see their brother, the Kobra Kid, since our other friend Fun Ghoul is with Jet Star right now.”

“Ah.” Dowdy frowned. “Well, Kobra isn’t awake yet, but I don’t think some visitors would hurt. Come on, both of you.”

Poison glanced at Cola, finding him already staring back.

“I don’t have to come,” he said quietly. “If you’d rather visit Kobra alone.”

Even though Cola had offered, and even if they didn’t trust him all too far, Poison didn’t have the will to keep him from seeing their brother. “You can come, but it’s not pretty.”

“Believe it or not, I’m rather used to not pretty.”

“Oh, I believe it.”

Cola’s voice softened slightly. “I think it’s harder for you to see him than me to see him, so the only question is if it’s harder for you to have me there.”

Why was he so goddamn fucking nice? “I don’t care.”

“I’m coming, then.”

Poison would never have admitted it, not in a thousand years or more, but it was nice to have Cherri next to them when walking the halls of this too-clean building where they weren’t in control of a single goddamn thing. They hated feeling helpless, always had, but at least with Cherri Cola there (and still trying to get his fucking hair to stay out of his face), they didn’t have to feel alone.

Another thing they would never admit to was the way they reached back, fumbling for Cola’s hand as they entered the room. It was long habit, forged by a good while of reaching for Jet whenever shit went south, but they never intended to reach for Cola of all people. Ghoul, at least, would have been understandable- xe was a member of Party’s crew- but Cola? Absolutely fucking not.

Thank the Phoenix Witch, he said nothing about it, simply giving their hand a small squeeze. Poison didn’t squeeze back, but they didn’t let go either, not even at Cola’s tiny gasp upon seeing Kobra. Their brother looked not much better than yesterday, still far too small and far too still, but as they watched, he shifted slightly.

“He’s on his way to getting better. Assuming he does recover, we predict it will be one or two more days before he’s awake,” Dowdy informed them. “Now, I’ve got other patients to attend to, I’ll come kick you out if I need.”

Poison damn near cried, thanking every deity out there that Cherri was too absorbed in watching Kobra to even notice. He had moved. He was alive, and on his way to well. Poison thanked every deity out there for that as well, even muttering a few prayers under their breath.

Once the initial relief had worn off, it was back to watching their baby brother lay there, quiet as anything and still too fucking still.

“He looks so still. Still and small,” Cherri said softly.

Poison hated that his first thought was the same as their first thought. “He’s too fucking small. And too fucking quiet.”

Cherri nodded and squeezed their hand again. “He’ll get better though.”

“You trust the medic?” It wasn’t like they trusted his word much, but Cola did know just about everyone in the Zones and the reputations thereof.

“Dowdy’s been working at this hospital for as long as I’ve been in the Zones. I’d trust them with my life- and I trust them with Kobra’s, which might be worth more.”

Poison shot him a glance. “Look, it’s not like I wouldn’t be sadder if Kobes died than if you did, but I’d still be sad.”

His smile was wry. “I didn’t realize you cared so much.”

“You’re a decent person, even if you’re insufferably nice.” They shrugged. “Plus, Kobes likes you.”

“So not too personal then.”

“You’re my brother’s friend, nothing more.”

Cola gave them a small nod of acknowledgement. “I don’t mind, so long as all of you are safe.”

“Stop being insufferably nice.”

“Then how will I be insufferable?”

“You could try not being insufferable,” they muttered.

He grinned. “I could, but there’s no fun in that. Besides, my plan is working. I’ve distracted you from worrying.”

Poison glared at him, but something he had said jogged at their memory. “You’re a bastard, but uh...sorry for being a dick to you when you first got here.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“No, it was shitty of me. I should’ve dealt with stuff without being pissy at you, even if I was worried.” They stared at the floor.

Cherri sounded both surprised and happy when he next spoke. “Well. Thank you, Poison. That was a nice apology.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“No, seriously, I’m proud of you. You’re getting better at acknowledging your actions.”

Poison looked up and made an ick face at him. “You sound like every other adult.”

“I am almost thirty, you know.”

“Old person.”

“Hey! Rude youngster!” He was smiling though, and so was Poison, the shitty situation briefly forgotten.

“You guys are fucking loud.”

Party Poison’s head whipped around so fast their neck hurt, turning to see Kobra Kid blink sleepily from the bed. “What?” was all they could think to say.

His voice was quiet, but it was there. “Said what I said. You guys are fucking loud.”

The noise they made was halfway between a laugh and a sob. “Of course the first thing you do when you wake up is complain.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re a little bitch.”

There were tears rolling down Poison’s cheeks now, but they couldn’t muster the energy to care. “Fuckface.”

“Bastard.”

“Bitch boy.”

“Baby fucker.”

“Dipshit.”

“Asshole.” Kobra turned his head vaguely towards Cherri. “So how long have you loud bastards been stuck with each other?”

“Only since yesterday,” Cola told him. “When you and Jet came in.”

“Is Jet okay?”

Poison shot Cola a warning glare as he opened his mouth. “They’re going to be fine.” Kobra could find out later.

Thank the witch, Cola nodded along. “They’ll be okay.”

“Good.” Kobra’s eyes were drooping again. “Now shut up and let me sleep.”

Dowdy arrived back a few minutes after that, and kicked them out just as promised. And thus began their second round of waiting, this time waiting for their friends’ recovery as opposed to news of them.

Cherri Cola stayed with Poison in the lobby as they waited for Fun Ghoul, and then he offered to wait with Ghoul while Poison went to see Jet. He waited with them through the next night and most of the next morning, until Kobra was awake again, and he stayed right by Poison’s side when Jet Star came down to the lobby for the first time, soon to be released from the hospital. Cherri was there when they had to help Kobra limp on out to the Trans Am, and he took the papers with all sorts of instructions on wound care from Dowdy. Cherri Cola was with the Fabulous Four from the moment he arrived at the hospital to the moment they got back to Dr. D’s radio station, where the Girl had been staying, and she came running into their arms.

Later, when Ghoul would laugh and say “You’re a fucking hero, Cola. Like a knight in shining armor and all that”, he would smile and say “Not a hero. Just a poet.”

Maybe not a knight in shining armor, but Poison certainly thought he had been their hero in a beat-up green jacket.

#auri writes #cherri cola #party poison #kobra kid #ttlofk #i still don't understand tumblr tagging #danger days #danger days fic

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mychemicalficrecs · 4 years

Note

Hi! First I have to say that your account is AMAZING! Second, I was wondering if there are any Frank/Gerard College/University AU’s?

Thanks, anon! There absolutely are, here are some of them!

Frank/Gerard College/University AUs

Skin of the Canvas by sinsense, 42k, Mature. The typical nude model is someone like Phil. Phil is forty-nine and paunchy. He's starting to go gray at his temples and in his pubic hair; he likes to pose on a stool, curving his back and curling his fingers together between his knees. Phil is secretly awesome -- he likes the Misfits and builds model trains -- but he's not what Gerard would call prime ogling material. Neither are any of the other models who have posed for the life modeling or anatomy classes Gerard has taken. This semester, Anna was kind of cute, but she whined about the conditions the entire time she was there. In his four years of art school, anyway, Gerard has never once dealt with being attracted to the model. But this guy is hot --- Or: Gerard goes to art school. Frank is a nude model. Somehow their relationship gets off the ground, in spite of everything working against them.

Interview with an Artist by mistresscurvy, 5k, Explicit. Frank stared at the syllabus. He was certain that this final project couldn't have been on there the first time he looked at it. He would have remembered something so completely fucking impossible.

Subjects Aren't the Only Thing You Learn in College by Andromedas_Void, 4k, Explicit. “What?” Gerard asks, bending his right leg and slipping his foot under his left knee. “Your neck is obviously bothering you so I’m giving you one of my patented massages. If your body doesn’t feel completely boneless after this, then you’ll get your money back,” he grins. “If I’m not paying you in the first place, do I still get my money back?” Frank laughs.

Sure of You by shiningartifact, 11k, Explicit. In Gee's senior year of college, waking up with sex hair and a vague memory of the girl who gave it to her is just another Friday morning. She's fine with that. She is. And then she meets Frank.

she (within the measure of a day) by mrsronweasley, 9k, Explicit. Gerard steps out in heels for Halloween. Everybody enjoys it. Some enjoy it more than others.

A Clockwork Killjoy by The_Divine_Fool, 13k [WIP], Not Rated. Alone in the world and miserably twenty-something, Gerard decides to move in with his little brother Mikey, who lives in the middle of nowhere, working and earning his Bachelor's degree at the local community college. But creepy stuff happens in Nowhere, and it's up to Gerard to save his new friends and his own brother from a sinister conspiracy.

sing for ourselves alone (speak into the microphone) by ineffableangel, 4k, Teen And Up Audiences. The college radio DJ has played 22 Mountain Goats songs in a row without comment and I feel like someone should call and make sure they’re okay.

Fragile Bones by action-cat (clytemnestras), 8k, Explicit. I don’t feel like a girl today, Frankie. I feel like a fucking prince

Get up, get out and be social (Frerard) by Rachel_Carter, 5k, Not Rated. Gerard is working on an art assignment in a coffee shop where he meets Frank, a pre-med student. When Frank gives Gerard his phone number, their relationship develops.

Heaven Beside You (Awkwardness Within) by RedSkittleCure, 7k, Explicit. The really hot guy turns to him, and Gerard sees that he’s got a fucking nose piercing and pierced ears and Gerard is just really, really fucked because this guy is so out of his league, it isn’t even funny. “Hi!” the guy smiles, sticking a hand out, “I’m Frank!” Gerard stares dumbfoundedly at the waiting hand, waiting a few seconds too long before taking it, “Gerard,” he manages to spit out, mentally taking extremely detailed notes of the calluses on Frank’s hand. Fuck, he’s such a creep. OR: The one where Frank works very hard and woos Gerard via passing him notes in class

no justice in photographs by poppunklwt, 20k, Mature. Frank, a psychology major, is in his third year of college and is roped into taking an art class by his advisor. Ray and Bob are his roommates (possible bandmates, too?) and Gerard is the cute student employee at the library who Frank likes to sneak glances at while he doodles. Frank doesn't know if he can balance a new band and a new crush simultaneously. Or, the one where Gerard offers Frank a little bit more than just help with his art project.

Teenager by dangsu, 7k, Mature. "For someone who hates teenagers, Gerard Way seemed to only hangout with Frank and Mikey." Frank is a scrawny eighteen year old kid and Gerard is a crazed college graduate who hates teenagers and the Midwest.

Dissolve Me by everythingintransit, 80k, General Audiences. Gerard Way sunburns easily and talks too much and has mastered the art of creating paninis in the dining hall and eating them while running to class. He drinks iced coffee when it's below zero outside and carries crystals in his pockets party for comfort and partly because they weigh him down like an anchor that refuses to sink. Gerard Way finds himself in love during his sophomore year of university with a guy that he sometimes goes bowling with. This guy is named Frank Iero and runs a radio show after hours where he talks in a sexy rough voice about things that can get him into trouble if anyone bothers to listen. But Gerard listens. Gerard Way can do magic. Lightbulbs shatter when he gets excited and he can walk through a thunderstorm in dry clothes. Yet he's powerless when it comes to Frank, and the relationship he's seeking ends up looking close to impossible from where he's standing. But he's in love, and love is patient and kind and shattered glass, shit like that. Love is something he deserves.

Majoring In Disaster by hell_highwater, 17k [WIP], General Audiences. Punk bands! Political statements! Lab work! Hating your rich parents! Being oh, so in love with your best (and only) friend! Life ensues many twists for college biochemistry students Gerard and Frank.

Trapped In By All These Mountains by brightlightbaby, 7k, Teen And Up Audiences. “I’ve got to tell you, I don’t usually do this much physical labor for a dude I just met.” “Really? I thought a tough guy like you would be out tarring roofs and mowing lawns for all the guys.” “No, just for the pretty ones. Or the ones who pay me enough.”

In All Our Lives by stoplightglow, 27k, Mature. “Everything’s connected," Gerard says. "It isn’t just art history. Art is history. Art is culture. Without the crucial backbones, it all disappears. So when one timeline gets messed up—” He looks despairingly up at the ceiling. "—it all goes down." For all those times you thought, you know what Bandom is really missing? Time travel, arson, and art history.

Life as a Process by ViciousVenin, 57k, Explicit. Frank's college experience isn't exactly what he was hoping for. He has no idea what he wants to do with his life, his RA scares him, and his roommate Gerard seems pretty weird. Really weird, actually, but not in a bad way. As the two of them get closer, Frank finds that Gerard is one of the most interesting people he's ever met, and cute as fuck to boot. Frank just wishes he could figure out what Gerard is hiding...

Pull by falter, 7k, Not Rated. College is a hell of a lot easier with a steady supply of decent coffee. Too bad that's not what Frank's getting.

#frank/gerard #frerard #fic rec list #college au #university au #alternate universe

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eirian-houpe · 3 years

Text

Tuesday - Chapter 2

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV), Stargate Universe

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Belle (Once Upon a Time)/Nicholas Rush

Characters: Nicholas Rush, Gloria Rush, Belle (Once Upon a Time), unnamed OC

Additional Tags: going round in circles, Time Travel, Alternate Universe, Angst, Eventual Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Summary: When you go poking around in time, you might sometimes find that it pushes back, as Nick Rush finds out… the hard way.

Read previous chapters on AO3

Chapter 2 - Do I know you

The windshield wipers moved back and forth across his field of vision so quickly they were a blur, and still he could barely see for the driving rain. Exhaustion pulled at Nicholas Rush like a man that had lived ten thousand years in a single lifetime.

“Shit!” He voiced the sudden epiphany aloud and slammed on the brakes, then spent the next few seconds turning the wheel one way and then the other, using more energy than he had, to control the slide as the tires lost traction on the rain soaked road and the car glided almost gracefully into the hedgerow, and the ditch before it.

He hissed out the expletive as the seat belt tightened around his chest to prevent his fall.

“Fuck!” he snarled again and slapped both hands against the steering wheel, before reaching for the key to try and restart the stalled vehicle. The engine coughed, but nothing more. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference even if he had got it going again. He’d never be able to get out of the ditch, not by himself. He had no choice but to call for help.

The irony wasn’t lost on him that he had communicated across galaxies, and yet as he struggled to pull his cell phone out of his pocket, the words, No Service, glared at him from the top of his screen. He let out another snarling string of colorful language that became a fragile, humorless chuckle as he remembered that he hadn’t done any of that yet, and wondered whether this was the reason the Ancients had created the communication stones in the first place. He knew otherwise, but it was an amusing fantasy and stopped him from losing his temper completely.

He turned and peered into the darkness, seeing nothing but the driving rain. It would do him no good to stay with the car, if the last few hours were anything to go by, this was a road not often traveled. There would be no one come by any time soon.

With a sigh, he slipped the phone back into his jeans pocket and reached for his jacket from the back of the car, trying a second time once he’d released the seat belt, and twisted one way then another to pull it on before he opened the door.

No sooner that, than the wind driven rain blew into his face, and he began to sink into the rain soaked mud underfoot as he stepped out of the car. He leaned back in to pick up the things from the passenger seat, then slammed the door and hurried to the higher, firmer ground of the black top.

A faint feeling of Deja Vu gripped him as he looked first one way and then the other. He’d done this before, and he still had no idea where he was, or which direction he needed to go, but figured that since he hadn’t passed anywhere that looked as though it had a phone he could use, it would serve him better to continue on in the direction he’d been driving. That would be for the best.

He was soaked within seconds, and cursed himself for a fool with almost ever step, until the faint, golden glitter of light ahead sparkled off the falling rain. He breathed a sigh of relief, and put his head down, to move more quickly through the downpour.

By the time he reached the cottage, he was soaked right through to his underwear, and after knocking tried to wait as patiently as he could, listening to the faint sounds of movement from within, but after several long moments of standing with the cold rain trickling down the back of his neck, he lifted his hand to knock again.

The door was opened by a small brunette, who had a shocking white stripe descending from one temple. His belly tugged at him, sending the smallest of waves lower, to center in his groin, and he covered the sensation with an apologetic cough.

“I erm… I wonder if you have a phone I could use?” he began as the blue eyes looked him up and down. “I had a wee accident further down the road and—”

She smiled and stood aside with a gesture for him to come in. It cut him off mid explanation, and as she closed the door behind him she said, “I’ll find you some towels. Can’t have you standing there wet through, you’ll catch your death.”

The sense of deja vu fluttered though his belly again as did the strengthening of the unexplained attraction that had warmth building in his groin, and her familiarity pulled at him like an itch he couldn’t scratch or an elusive word on the tip of his tongue.

…He wrapped an arm around her waist, another into her hair, to tug her closer as they shared the heated, desperate kiss, tongues tangling…

He jumped and gasped slightly as her soft voice shattered the unexpected vision, but he could still feel her, taste her, smell the rose of her perfume.

“There’s a fire lit, if you want to get warm.”

“Thank you,” he managed, his voice thick with the desire he remembered, but knew he had never shared, and as a distraction to his obviously addled, sleep deprived mind, started to follow the sound of the crackling wood that beckoned, warm and inviting, as was the faint aroma of cinnamon that replaced the scent of roses which he smelled with every breath.

She returned a moment later, carrying a towel under one arm, and what looked like pajama pants and a folded bath robe in her hands. These she set down on the chair beside the fireplace.

“Did you find what you were looking for, Nicholas?”

The question, asked so casually, almost stopped his breath, and frowning, he looked down at her again, finally entertaining that the feelings of deja vu meant something more than his mind playing games with him.

“We’ve…”

He turned her, releasing her with one arm to sweep the things from the top of the desk in almost the same moment that he lifted her to it, and she giggled playfully as she started in on the buttons of his shirt.

“…met, haven’t we?” he asked, his tone tight with the effects of the new vision.

The homeowner chuckled and pressed the towel against the middle of his soaked chest. “We have,” she said. “But it was quite some time ago.”

“You’re going to have to try and be a bit more specific than that,” Rush glanced round at Brody, the illusion with which Destiny was currently tormenting him, “if you expect me to produce the desired results instead of, oh, I don’t know, flying us straight into the sun instead of around it?”

“There’s no need to be quite so testy, Doctor Rush.” Brody-Destiny said.

“Testy,” Rush actually looked up from the small notepad in which he was scribbling as, ahead of them, the star loomed closer and closer. “That’s rich coming from the likes of you.”

Brody… Destiny said nothing.

About to return to his work, Rush thought better of it and pointed at Brody for a moment as he said, “In fact, ever since I set foot aboard this ship, you have been the most objectionable piece of hardware I’ve ever had the misfortune to work with. Your interface is counter intuitive. Your AI, quite frankly, is temperamental at best and bordering on hostile most of the time, and when you don’t get your own way you resort to threats to make sure that we do as you say.”

He turned back to his notes then, consulting the complex mathematics he was working over multiple pages, and making cautious inputs into the navigation array in front of him.

“Wow.” It wasn’t Brody’s voice that answered him, but Gloria and a part of him cringed inwardly. What the hell made Destiny think she would be able to motivate him to solve the equations. “I love you too, Nick.”

She reached up to run her fingers through his long hair, but he swatted away the touch, much as he would have done a mosquito.

“Again,” he said with exaggerated patience, “the possibility of survival, provided I get my calculations right, or certain destruction in the heart of a dying star. Your choice.”

“Fine,” Gloria said and took a step back. “Calculate away. Don’t let me stop you.”

He put his head back down to his calculations for barely a moment before he felt Gloria’s eyes - well Destiny’s replica of Gloria anyway - boring into the back of his head and with a sigh, he half turned and said, “With you looking over my shoulder, that’s not likely to happen, is it?”

“Oh, I… would you perhaps like someone,” Gloria said, directly over his shoulder this time.

“…Less distracting,” Doctor Jackson finished, from the exact same spot.

“I’d prefer y’weren’t here at all, actually,” Rush snapped. “It’s not helpful and it’s not going to make me work any faster.”

“Killjoy!” Jackson snorted, “I knew someone once, had a bumper sticker on the back of their car that said, The closer you get, the slower I drive. They thought it was hilarious but—”

“Doctor Jackson!” Rush looked pointedly over at the far side of the room.

“Fine, fine,” Jackson muttered, moving away.

“Anyone would think you find him threatening.” Brody again, and this time, Rush looked up and almost snarled at him.

“If you must be here, then I wish you’d at least stick with one form instead of changing every two seconds.”

“Well, who would we—” Brody cut himself off. “Oh, I know. How about…”

“Hello, Nicholas.”

Rush was fairly sure he’d never heard the voice before, though was somewhat surprised - or perhaps disappointed - that Destiny hadn’t chosen Amanda to be her spokesperson. He glanced up from the calculations again, to take in the small brunette with the deepest blue eyes he thought he’d ever seen. A complete stranger to him though, and yet also intimately familiar.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” he said, a ridiculous question as of course he knew her. She was Destiny.

“Not yet,” she answered enigmatically, “but you will… quite well, as a matter of fact.”

He stared at her as though she had suddenly grown an extra head. “I beg your pardon?” he asked, surprised beyond measure - completely caught off guard.

“The star, Nicholas,” she answered softly, nodding toward the view screen. “You can satisfy your curiosity later - when we’re not all in imminent danger of being toasted to a crisp.”

“Hmm?” At his confused, distracted query she gestured again to the star fast approaching - though the truth were the other way around - Destiny’s forward viewer. “Yes, yes of course.”

Rush turned his full attention to the remaining elements of the calculation, and began rapidly punching data into the console on the arm of the pilot’s seat. He glanced over his shoulder at the figure still standing, calmly, watching the approaching star, a strange look of fond amusement on her face.

“You might want to hold on for this,” he said.

Brilliant heat and light stretched reality, like molten glass being blown on the end of a glass worker’s tube, and around him, Destiny stretched and buckled, and the light grew until it became too bright for him to see, and he screwed up his eyes, until at last, the light faded.

"Okay, who can tell me the significance of Shaw’s algorithm?”

The student stood, answered, his words all bending into one meaningless speech. He’d heard it before, it was no more helpful now than it was then.

It made his head ache at the temples. This was where it originated anyway and he remembered, if memory was what this was; if seeing visions of some point in time that he was visiting, painfully so, again and again could be called memory, risking everything in order to gain… what?

The future-memories were already fading, faster this time than the last. That wouldn’t do… that would never do.

If he forgot now, he’d just go through the motions, same old, same old - wouldn’t remember that the Gloria he carried in his head told him… will tell him… that he was not the man she fell in love with and that it was her death made him callous. Was that true? Had he… would he become that way?

He shook his head at himself. He had to find a tense for this - a way to refer to events in this never ending loop. A way to remember. Longer.

If he could do that, perhaps he could find that one key moment around which everything pivoted, and could make a change, a real change. Break the cycle. Find the answer.

Did you find what you were looking for?

He blinked, just as Gloria’s friend came running down the corridor after him… calling his name, reminding him that he had somewhere to be. Could this be it? Could this be the one factor that would send his life, and those of everyone else, veering off down another, gentler path?

He made it from the university to the oncology department in record time - less time than it should have taken. His dashboard clock read 4:06 as he hurriedly parked the car, barely pausing to lock it, before racing for Doctor Browning’s office, arriving breathless just as Gloria was being shown into the ‘inner sanctum.’ Surprised to see him - hadn’t he told her he wouldn’t be there - she smiled up at him as she sat down, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, both to her and to the Doctor who entered from another door with a file folder in his hand. “Traffic.”

“It’s all right,” Gloria told him, and took his hand to squeeze it tightly as he pulled up a chair beside her. She wasn’t to know that on every other occasion, she’d been there alone.

He sat in his office, chewing on the side of his finger as he contemplated the argument in one of the student’s papers and almost jumped when the phone rang.”

“Yes,” he answered curtly, only then noticing the time - 4:46.

“It’s back.” Her voice sounded tight. As though she were trying not appear upset or anything other than resigned.

“I had a feeling,” he said.

“You did? You… you never said so.”

“No,” he confessed, guilt crowding in on him. He should have said. He shouldn’t have blown her off that morning with empty platitudes, when the real reason he didn’t want to go with her to the doctor’s appointment was that he was afraid. Terribly afraid.

“I can’t go through this again, I can’t.” She wept then, and he didn’t know what he should say - what he could say. “Nick? Nick are you there?”

He squeezed back as the doctor sat, opened the file, and took a breath, preparing to tell them what they both feared. This wasn’t his answer.

The room above his head spun as he levered himself up, reaching for the bottle and the glass, bring them together to pour a stream of amber liquid into the tumbler, and then straight into his mouth. Half of his drunken self wondered why he didn’t just abandon the glass altogether.

“Cut out the middle man,” he slurred, even while pouring another couple of fingers into the whiskey glass.

“Pardon?” A voice interrupted his valiant attempt to get so hammered that he didn’t remember he’d lost— He frowned then. How the hell did this man get into his house. Hadn’t he locked the door? Doctor Jackson evidently caught his sour expression, and immediately added, “I’m… sorry, I… I rang the bell several times, the er… door was open.”

“Yes,” he agreed, sitting up and rubbing at his bleary eyes.

“I’ve got some great news,” Jackson said. “Our source among the Lucian Alliance has come through. We’ve got the location of a planet that just might suit our power requirements.”

He looked up at the man, blinking as he picked up his glasses, and put them on. The world became clearer, but no less unstable… still spinning. “Then let’s go,” he said, and when Jackson made no move he added, “What are we waiting for?”

“I’m… thinking maybe it’d be better if we, er… You should maybe sober up first, hmm?” Jackson leaned down to help him up, and Rush could tell by the expression on his face that he must smell as bad as he suddenly felt, a thought confirmed a moment later, when Doctor Jackson added, “Aaand maybe a shower and a change of clothes.”

Water, like hot needles fell down over his head, cascading onto his body, chasing away the fog that marred his brain, but forming a swirling mist at his feet. He covered his hands with soap, and used the soap to scrub away the foul sweat that his body expelled, remnants of the alcohol with which he was drowning himself, numbing himself to his grief.

As the numbness lifted, memories flooded in. Her face, her smile, the way he’d let her down - put work before his love for her, for fear of losing her, and losing her anyway; throwing himself into the depth of despair that could only be born by driving himself to the edge of exhaustion with work, or as then, at the bottom of a bottle.

He laid his forehead on the class of the shower, his mouth open, his body wracked with silent sobs, swallowed by the steam still rising in the captive compartment and…

…Rush shuddered, taking a huge, uncomfortable breath as the stasis field faded, then blinked out and he slumped against the perspex door that began to lift away, rising to deposit him on the cold of the deck; his shallow breath fogged in the frigid air.

“No, no, no,” he gasped.

Coughing, still shivering, Rush rolled onto his back, forcing his eyes open and searching through the blurred vision for something, anything, that might get him out of the deadly nature of his situation. He spotted the lone EVA suit against the glass of the last closed and functioning stasis chamber.

He reached with a hand that was fast becoming numb, grasped the ridge of the wall and began to drag himself toward it.

“Not again… Not. Again.”

#rushbelle #au #time travel #going round in circles #angst #eventual smut #hurt/comfort #tuesday

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ghosttransmissions · 4 years

Note

What's your favorite thing about the zones?

I’ve had this in my inbox forever, not because I didn’t want to answer the question but because it felt like something I needed to think about before I could do it justice. As you all probably know, the danger days universe is incredibly important to me and I wanted to give some thought as to why I love this world and why I think the inhabitants of said world would flee the city’s ensnaring comfort for an unstable but liberating life in the zones.

Its about rebirth. That is my favorite thing about the zones. I’m so in love with the idea of leaving behind everything stopping you from being who you want to be and building the life you actually want, even if its risky, even if it seems impossible. I think this idea speaks to me because I feel like I tend to play it safe; I have spent a lot of my life up to this point locked in my room working tirelessly and being stressed over things I’m not necessarily passionate about but that a knew would lead me toward college, a decent job, and all the hallmarks of conventional success. I spent so long yearning for something more, for a life outside my bedroom full of the color and music that I felt like I had only been able to get the smallest taste of, but lacking the knowledge and the courage to break away. I’m still working on that, and I won’t go into my whole life story here or anything.

But through all that, the idea of the zones gives me hope. The killjoys face horrible hardships, for sure: dracs, scarecrows, hunger, thirst, heatstroke, and all the other problems that have been explored in every fic and headcanon this fandom has created. But the killjoys also live in a world of their own creation, a world built on color and art and rock ‘n’ roll, a world where everyone can adopt a new name and a new mask that fits better than the one they were born with. Its a world where sexuality and gender is free from the shackles of convention, a world where family is chosen and not defined, where emotions can run wild and true. This vision of the zones that we have all created together gives me faith that I can, slowly but surely, reinvent myself a little each day, until one day I am the version of myself that is free of who I feel like I am supposed to be and is closer to who I want to be. the version of myself that would be fit for the chaotic and vibrant desert of California 2019.

As 2019 ends, I can’t help but be a little sad that the “year of the killjoys” is over, but I’m not going anywhere and it doesn’t seem like any of you are either. And even if I am not always as invested in this fandom as I am now, I think the message of rebirth and reinvention that Danger Days conveys is something I will carry with me forever.

So happy new year, killjoys. The Future is Bulletproof.

#my writing #sorry this is so long and dramatic #killjoys #danger days #mcr #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 4 years

Text

As in Debbie Harry

PART FOURTEEN OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: implied sexy times, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Jess and Ella have a frank discussion, then go see a live performance of some angry music.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Gilmore Girls is often a very sex-negative show. There are many examples of the sex-negative narrative through the series, such as when Lorelai implies Paris is “the bad kid” for losing her virginity, or when Lane gets pregnant with twins the first time she has sex with Zach. In “Keg! Max!” Jess tries to pressure Rory into having sex while in a bedroom upstairs during Kyle’s party. In my opinion, that scene seemed a very clumsy (and, honestly, out of character) attempt to convey Jess’s inward situation outwardly without using words. It is a very difficult scene to watch and it is Jess’s worst moment in the whole series by far. With this chapter of my AU, I am in no way trying to trivialize that scene or be an apologist for that kind of behavior. It’s unacceptable in every way. Consent is extremely important, and should be clearly given by everyone involved each time they have sex.

Instead, I wanted to create a more positive representation of teen sex. Sex is a normal part of life, and people should not be shamed for having it. I wanted the conversation between Jess and Eleanor to be realistic and beneficial. And I wanted the morning after to be positive too. I wanted it to be clear that they both gave consent during the initial conversation and right before they actually had sex (because giving consent once does not mean giving consent forever). I wanted them to be safe and comfortable. I wanted them to make an effort to communicate with each other. Also, I personally think the show has a detrimental attitude towards virginity, especially considering how much slut-shaming there is, the incident with Paris being only one example. Virginity, in my view, is just a social construct, but that’s a conversation for another time.

In my AU, Jess does not pressure anyone into sex, and he never would. It’s monumentally problematic of Gilmore Girls to brush off the incident in “Keg! Max!” the way it does, so I wanted to make sure I addressed it before any sex happened in this story. It’s important to recognize problems in our favorite content and learn from them. So, I hope this chapter sends a better message about teenage sex and consent. And I hope I got my ideas across in this note. Please feel free to message me any time if you are going through something, want to talk, or anything else. I am always here. You can learn more about consent and find resources for sexual assault survivors here.

Legs crossed, warming both her hands with the to-go cup of tea from Luke’s, Ella listened intently as Lane gushed about Dave Rygalski. They sat in the gazebo, school bags forgotten on the old wood below them. Stars Hollow High was finally closed for fall break, a whole week off to celebrate Thanksgiving and prepare for the odd, torturous month until the sweet release of winter break as well. Lane was thinking out loud, trying to formulate a plan to get Dave to her house on Thanksgiving. Schemes involving classical Biblical guitar and stuffy outfits were being discussed when Rory finally arrived from the bus stop, binders in her hand and her Chilton skirt hitting her knees as she walked.

“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite Catholic school girl!” Ella called as Rory ascended the steps.

Rory scoffed. “It wasn’t funny two years ago, and it’s not funny now.”

“Humor is subjective.”

“Not in this case. You’ve reached an objective lack of humor.”

“Hey, not even Rory Gilmore can bend such universal rules,” Ella shrugged, smirking. Rolling her eyes, Rory plopped down between her two friends and blew out a tired breath, a tight squeeze on the small bench.

“Man, that boyfriend of yours is a bad influence. The heightened snark makes the two of you such a sorry lot,” Lane said.

Ella’s wicked grin only widened. “The snark existed well before Jess came along. I think it’s more my old age that’s making me bitter.” She paused, taking another sip. “Really Rory, I could paint your shoes. Your mom could hem your skirt. I think it’s time to make waves in the antiquated dress code community.”

“Expulsion’s just what I need six months before graduation,” Rory grumbled, digging around in her yellow backpack for her pager. There were fourteen messages from Dean. She let out a frustrated growl.

“Dirk Squarejaw again?” Ella asked, sympathetic.

Nodding, Rory sighed and put her head to Ella’s shoulder. “He just won’t shut up about that kiss with Tristan. I swear this all would’ve been easier if he’d ended up actually going to military school.”

“What do you say we throw off our men and just ride off together, Thelma?” Ella said, uttering a dreamy exhale.

“If only, Louise.”

Clearing her throat, Lane nudged Rory with an elbow and raised offended eyebrows.

“And, once you snag Dave, you’ll be part of the feminist killjoy club, too,” Ella said pointedly, smirking.

“You’ve been listening to too much Bikini Kill,” Lane said, cracking a smile.

“No such thing,” Ella retorted. “Revolution girl style now, baby.”

The three of them descended into a sprawling conversation of Thanksgiving plans, along with a rather colorful anecdote involving Rory’s Chilton frenemy Paris. No matter how exuberant she sounded, Ella couldn’t help but think she would get along well with Ms. Geller. A pleasant tingling had spread within Ella since leaving school, the bell finally chiming in seventh period trigonometry. The feeling always came along with breaks, and it was nice to be with Rory and Lane, chatting in their familiar, breezy way. Everyone was growing older, getting busier, getting boyfriends; it was rare the three musketeers got a true moment to themselves. Eventually, Lane had to go to Bible study, eager to get in good graces with her mother, to allow Dave to provide a musical holiday accompaniment.

Autumn brought early nightfall, and the light was just beginning to wane when a decrepit AMC Ambassador screeched to a halt in front of the diner. And Ella found herself not even surprised when Jess stepped out of the driver’s side, the keyring around his finger. A smirk crossed her lips and she scoffed a little, looking over at Rory, who shot her a suspicious glance.

“He’s back behind the wheel, huh?” Rory asked.

Ella’s face fell a little. “Oh, jeez, I’m sorry-”

Waving a dismissive hand, Rory only shrugged. “That accident wasn’t his fault.”

Letting out a breath of relief, Ella gave Rory a side-hug and another grin. “You’re the best, Gilmore.”

“Second only to you, Ella.”

Glancing over at Jess, Ella rolled her eyes. He leaned against the car, gazing at her. His hands shoved in his pockets, hair gelled up, a leather jacket over his Clash t-shirt. A blush almost rose to her face at the sight of him, but she bit the inside of her cheek and smirked wider instead.

“You need something, Mariano?” she called smugly, and Rory chuckled at her side.

Jess shrugged. “Just didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Oh, how polite of you,” she shot back, then looked over at Rory in askance. The brunette nodded and gave her one last hug.

“Lunch tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Ella replied, gathering up her stuff and shaking her head in disbelief as she approached the car, and the boy next to it. “Where’d you get the rust bucket, Mariano?”

“Whatever, soccer mom,” he retorted.

She narrowed her eyes at the insult to her station wagon. “You’re on thin ice. Where’d you even find this?”

“Gypsy sold it to me. Not so pretty, but I got a good deal.”

She nodded, placing her hands on the back of his neck and lacing her fingers together. His arms came to rest around her waist. Ella glanced back around him to the car. “Ah, I wouldn’t write her off too quick. She’s got good bones.”

“Wait to look on the bright side, blondie,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“As in my hair or as in Debbie Harry?” she asked, expectant. “There is a right answer.”

Jess snorted. “Debbie Harry. How could you even ask?”

“Just checking,” she smiled, pressing her lips to his. For a moment, she was caught up, and the kiss deepened. But then she remembered they were still standing in the center of town, and she pulled away as her cheeks heated up.

Jess chuckled at her blush as she took a step back and cleared her throat, running a hand through her loose hair self-consciously.

“Shut up, James Dean” she warned playfully, narrowing her eyes. “With this car? I think you’ve reached caricature status in public opinion.”

“Don’t type-cast me.”

She continued despite his mock defense, ruffling his gelled mess of waves. “You’ve even got the hair to match.”

Rolling his eyes, he swatted her hand away and pouted, trying to fix his look. “Just for that, I’m not letting you pick the music. And I’m not telling you what we’re doing for our surprise date tomorrow night.”

“What? I wasn’t aware the stakes were so high!”

Jess rolled his eyes again.

Before she could do any more damage to his cool exterior, he retreated back into his driver’s seat. Laughing wickedly, she came around to the passenger side and threw her bag in the back.

“I think it’d be perfectly fine for the date not to be a surprise. Where are we going?” she asked, hoping to lure it out of him.

“Somewhere,” he replied flatly, not phased.

Smiling wider at his secrecy, she threw a glance at the diner over her shoulder as he rolled away from town center. Punk blasted through the radio, and she turned it down just slightly so they could hear each other. Jess shot her a teasing glare, but said nothing about it.

“Y’know,” she said, “I’ve worked at Luke’s for three years and in all that time combined I didn’t make enough money to buy a car.”

“And what are you implying?” he asked, feigning innocence.

Ella only scoffed, taking his free hand in hers. She could feel the scar, where they’d pulled out the stitches.

. . .

Nowhere. It had been a long drive to nowhere in his car. But, Ella supposed, nowhere could be a kind of somewhere, anywhere. Eventually, though, they’d made it to Hartford and Jess turned back. The frigid sky was darkening to a deep, late autumn blue, and Luke was adding him to a Saturday night at the diner every time he came home past midnight. Upon arriving back in Stars Hollow, it was around ten, the shops were closed, but Jess didn’t want their time to end. Away from town, he felt lighter, easier. Everyone wasn’t watching him. Ella wasn’t the doe-eyed princess like Rory, and she didn’t have overbearing parents like Lane, but the townspeople still looked at him with plenty suspicious eyes when they walked hand-in-hand out in public.

Instead of Luke’s, where watchful figures persisted, they landed in Ella’s bedroom. He felt his muscles relax at the scent of lavender, sitting on her bed and leaning his back against the muraled wall. She laid next to him, shoes off but still fully clothed, atop the knit blanket. Joni Mitchell played a mournful tune over her turntable. Her candles were alight, and Jess would have felt sleepy if it weren’t for the book in his hands. Jess devoured A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, another gloomy tale (shocking) Ella had given him. She said she always read it around Christmastime, and he was beginning to see at least once reason for her Grinchy tendencies. And Ella held Anna Karenina in front of her. It was not her first foray into the Russians, but she had never been too thrilled with them. Jess seemed to believe this one would win her over. A few chapters in, and she doubted it.

“Jess?” she asked as the clock ticked nearer to eleven.

“Hm?”

“Are we gonna have sex?”

Choking for a second in surprise, Jess cleared his throat. He scoffed out a chuckle. “What, like, now?”

Ella laughed, shoving his arm playfully. She sat up and faced him, flushed and anxious, though her voice was even. “No. For one, my dad’s still awake. But, I just mean...we do pretty much everything up to having sex, but we’ve never had sex. We’ve been together for almost three months. I just figured we should talk about it.”

Shutting his book, Jess crossed his arms over his chest. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a talent for subtlety?”

She rolled her eyes. “My bluntness is at least half my charm.”

“‘Charm’ is a pretty strong word.”

Launching a teasing pillow at his face, Ella giggled. “I’m trying to be serious here, Mariano.”

“Okay, sorry. Go on.”

“Okay. So...sex.”

He bit his lip to fight off a smirk. “Yes?”

“Well, have you had sex?” she asked.

“Yeah. There was one girl back in New York. Tara. She was nice, I guess. But it wasn’t a Nora Ephron type deal or anything.”

“You like Nora Ephron?” she interrupted, brows furrowed. Not incredulous, only perplexed.

He narrowed his eyes momentarily but ignored the interjection. “I dated her when I was a freshman and then she moved to Albany. Then, your best friend Shane-”

“Fuck off.”

“Not a chance. But, the answer is yes.” Then, after a pause, he furrowed his brows. It occurred to him what a gray area that part of her past was to him. “Have you?”

She nodded. “Hm-mm. A couple times.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling shyly at the way he tilted his head. There was no judgement in his voice. “Right after my mom died, I went to a couple parties...Well, not parties. They were more like get-togethers. Anyway, I got super stoned. This kid Brian smoked with me and we just sorta…did it. There were a couple more parties that year. Rinse. Repeat. Eventually, I started working more and just stopped going.”

“And you never-”

“No, never got together with him,” she answered before he even had to ask. “I never had a ‘relationship’ with anyone. Never had sex with anyone else. It was a good thing, though, I think. Being with him. At the time, I felt so shitty. For just a little while, it made me feel better. He’s a nice kid. Plays for the marching band. Sometimes sex is just sex, y’know?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Jess agreed. “But...with us?”

Running a hand through her hair, Ella felt her insides flutter at the look he gave her. It was almost….open? Not quite, but almost. “Well, do you wanna have sex with me?”

Swallowing dryly, Jess nodded and hoped he didn’t appear as flustered as he felt. “Yeah. Yeah, I do...Do you wanna have sex with me?”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding casually. It felt odd, talking so frankly with him. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was exciting. Would it feel different with a boyfriend? She bet it would.

He cleared his throat, doing his best to hold her hazel gaze. “Good, then. That’s good.”

“I think it is, yeah.”

Bringing a hand to his shoulder, she pulled him in for a short, sweet kiss. And Jess’s heart felt light, relieved. Sometimes, Ella was challenging, she was complicated. But, when it was just the two of them, without all the noise which surrounded their daily lives, it was just so easy. And he could remember no other person he’d ever felt so at home with, who understood him so completely. And when she pulled away, he could still feel the ghost of her lips on his own.

“Alright, I’ve got to finish this chapter,” she said, grabbing her book again and shifting next to him, her back against the mural and her head coming to rest on his shoulder. When she cracked open the pages to her marked place, Jess following suit, she sighed. “This book is excruciating. Why would anyone read this recreationally?”

“You really wanna talk excruciating, Stevens?” he wagered, eyebrows raised as he looked down at her. “Need I remind you of Finnegan’s Wake? And don’t even get me started on this so-called Christmas book.”

“It is a Christmas book,” she argued, gesturing down to the Betty Smith novel in his hands.

Jess shook his head. “Just because Christmas happens in a story doesn’t make it a Christmas story. This is the Godfather debate all over again.”

She sighed once more. “You're never gonna convince me The Godfather isn’t a Christmas movie. Give it up, James Dean.”

“Only like fifteen minutes of that movie takes place at Christmas, my god, how many times-”

. . .

Just before official closing, Luke came back from Doose’s with supplies for Thanksgiving to stock the back room. The diner was to stay open on Thursday, and Luke would feed traditional turkey dinner to whoever stepped through the door. The past two years, Ella had worked all day, eating with Luke, Lorelai, and Rory during down times. The year before, she’d also gone to her aunt’s house following her shift to see the kids. But, with Fiona moved in and engaged to her father, the obligations had changed drastically. She was still working the morning shift, but was due home no later than two. Her older brother was coming, along with her aunt, her aunt’s husband, and her nieces.

Cleaning the counter with lemony disinfectant, she watched her boss trudge through the diner with heavy bags to the stockroom. Luke declined her offer to help carry things, as she had known he would. Instead, she was to keep closing. The clock ticked rhythmically on the wall, and the anxiety for the approaching holiday mixed in her stomach with excitement and pleasant nerves for what the evening was to hold. Jess had slipped out the door around lunch time with the blue vest in the pocket of his leather jacket, telling her he’d be back around nine. And he still wouldn’t budge and tell her where they were going for their ‘secret date.’ But it wasn’t as though she didn’t know why. He hadn’t been able to treat her during their first date, and every date since had been more of a casual hang-out, or a mutually-arranged affair. He still wanted to show her what was, in his opinion, the first date she deserved. So, she wouldn’t argue too much. When the bell over the door sounded, Ella smirked before she even looked up to see him.

“Ready to spill your guts, James Dean?” she asked immediately as he came and sat at the counter in front of her.

Jess scoffed. “Eager much?”

“Jackass much?”

He rolled his eyes. “Are you almost done?”

Nodding, Ella threw the rag in her hand into the dirty bin below the counter. She could hear Luke rummaging around in the back still.

“Hey Luke?” she called.

He came out with his hands on his hips, baseball cap in its rightful place as always. “Yeah?”

“I’m finished out here. Alright if I clock out?” she asked.

Luke eyed his nephew suspiciously, who looked back at him with his usual smug smirk. “Only if Walmart’s favorite stock boy doesn’t keep you out too late.”

The expression fell on Jess’s face and was replaced with furrowed brows, mouth set in a thin line. He’d managed quite a many few months keeping the secret from Luke, until he’d got his car. It was only after Luke accused him of prostitution that he finally came clean. And the teasing had been relentless ever since.

“Don’t worry,” Ella said, smiling as she went to the kitchen to clock out and hang her apron.

With Ella out of the room, Luke pointed a finger at his nephew and took on an accusatory stance. “No drinking, no smoking, no-”

“No drugs, no five-dollar street corner sex, I got it,” Jess interrupted begrudgingly.

Luke grunted in annoyance and rolled his eyes, but said nothing more as he went around to the cash register and started to close it out. Emerging from the back, Ella smoothed her hands over her simple black dress, then pulled her sleeves down over her hands nervously. Suddenly, she wondered if she wasn’t dressed for wherever they were going. She wished she had asked earlier.

“Okay, time to spit it out,” she said, rounding the corner of the counter and grabbing his hand to pull him up. They walked towards the door and she donned her peacoat, taking her shoulder bag, emptier than normal without all the school contents.

Jess smirked. “But what if a blindfold is part of the plan?”

“No fucking way.”

“Hey!” Luke piped up from the register at her language. The attempt at scolding was half-hearted, though.

Rolling her eyes with good nature, Ella followed Jess out the door. “Sorry. Night, boss.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke said with a small smile, waving a dismissive hand at the two kids.

Once outside, Ella could see her breath in the night and she was glad she’d worn her thick black tights. Her Doc Martens crunched the orangey piles of dry leaves noisily as they descended the front steps and made their way across the street to Jess’s car. Before they could get in, though, Jess stopped in his tracks and turned to her, leaning against the car doors.

“I’m waiting,” she teased, eyebrows raised impatiently.

After reaching in his pocket momentarily, Jess went to tuck a strand of hair which had fallen from her low bun behind her ear. Then, he revealed a set of ear plugs in his hand, and Ella’s brow furrowed though her smile widened in nostalgia.

“What’s up, Houdini?”

“Figured you might need these. Since we’re going to see the Distillers and all.”

“Are we?” she asked, taking the earplugs from him.

Nodding, Jess brought the tickets from his pocket and held them up for her to see. She broke out in a grin.

“Not bad, Mariano.”

“Yeah, I know you’re more into melancholia, but you were listening to my CD the other week. So, when I saw they were coming to Harford, I figured...” he trailed off humbly, shrugging. “And we’ve been together almost three months and I still haven’t seen those famous Eleanor Stevens dance moves.”

She chuckled, flushing slightly. He could smell her rosemary scent as she leaned closer and rested her hands on the back of his neck. “Don’t know if you’re ready for that. They’re deadly.”

“In more ways than one I’ve heard,” he quipped.

“Shut up,” she said. “This is awesome, Jess. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

And she brought him in for a kiss, smiling into it. Jess could feel his shoulders release their tension. He hadn’t known if she’d be happy. They were one of his favorite bands, and he’d heard rumors of their coming to town when she’d chosen them as her angry music weeks earlier. Though he wasn’t big on signs, he thought maybe the universe was telling him to share the experience with her. Let her in. It didn’t make him any less nervous, though. It was always there in the back of her mind, that worry she would realize what everyone else in the town already had. That he wasn’t good enough for her. But as he felt her hands in his hair, warmed by her touch in the cold November air, he couldn’t help but forget his fears for just a moment.

. . .

Mid-morning light streamed through the small window into Ella’s cramped bedroom. Her cacti sat on the dresser, soaking up the sunshine, as Jess and Ella slept soundly on the mattress. Wearing a big KISS t-shirt, Ella turned over in her sleep and faced Jess, his arm draped over her tightening slightly. A shirtless Jess lay beneath the whitish blanket next to her, snoring softly. His jeans and t-shirt were strewn near the bed, along with Ella’s dress. Still pumped full of adrenaline after the concert, Ella had crept through the house the night before to make sure everyone was asleep, then snuck Jess through her window. And their first time together was even better than she’d imagined. Sweet and a little awkward and wonderful, reminding her almost of their first kiss months before. And, afterwards, they’d stayed up talking for hours, with a fair amount of teasing from Jess over the t-shirt she’d decided to wear to bed. KISS was perhaps her biggest guilty pleasure.

Upon a soft knocking on Ella’s creaky white door, Jess began to stir. He cleared his throat and rubbed at his tired eyes before fully waking, becoming aware of his surroundings. Then, a voice came from the hallway outside.

“Ella? Fiona wants to take us to Doose’s to get Thanksgiving stuff!”

Sitting up slightly, Jess saw Ella was still deep asleep.

“Elle? Wake up,” he said, shaking her shoulder gently. It took at least thirty seconds before her eyes finally fluttered open.

“Hm?”

“You gotta wake up. Someone’s at your door,” he said quietly, hastily. Another knock sounded on the wood, and Jess glanced up, biting his lip.

Taking in a sharp breath, Ella nodded and her hazy eyes blinked harshly awake. The knocking on the door was persistent now, and her brother called her name a couple more times. She gestured for Jess to move to the corner near the dresser, out of view of the door, as she rushed over to open it. Poking her head out, she kept the door almost shut so only her face could be seen.

“God, Adam, knock louder, would you?” she snapped tiredly.

Adam took a step back at her irritated tone, squinting behind his glasses at her behavior. “It’s not my fault you’re too lazy to get up on time.”

“Didn’t realize we had an appointment scheduled,” Ella shrugged, trying to make her tone lighter.

Shrugging back, Adam began to walk off. “We’re leaving for Doose’s in fifteen.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, shutting the door loudly as he walked away.

“Wow, you’re not a morning person,” Jess remarked, a sardonic twinkle in his eye as he spoke from behind her. When she looked back, he was almost fully dressed already, buckling up his belt. “I gotta get back. Luke’s gonna be pissed.”

“Oh, fuck, you’re right,” Ella sighed, running a hand through her messy locks. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought about it sooner. Sometimes Jess seemed so independent, so out on his own, she forgot how much Luke had invested in taking care of him.

Jess only shrugged. “My fault. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’ll tell him I was reading at the lake and just dozed off.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said immediately, shaking her head.

He came over to her and put an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “It’s fine. He’ll be less mad at both of us. Win-win.”

“You think he’ll buy it?” she asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“I have my ways.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever, James Dean.”

Chuckling, he pecked her lips and took one long look at her. Before he could help it, or worry about feeling stupid, he smiled down at her. Crooked and sincere. And Ella smiled back.

“I had a good time,” she said.

Jess nodded in agreement. “Me too. The best of times.”

Sighing lightly, she rolled her eyes. “How do you always manage to bring up Dickens?”

“It’s a gift and a curse.”

And even after he pressed one final kiss to her lips, disappearing out the window and down the street, she couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her face.

#jess mariano au #jess mariano imagines #jess mariano imagine #gilmore girls au #gilmore girls fanfiction #jess mariano #jess #mariano #gilmore girls #jess mariano x oc #gilmore girls oc #original character #original character stories #luke danes #rory gilmore #lane kim

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caughtindeadlights · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1: Get the Gang Together

Summary: With the Fab Four found dead, Molly Hernandez was furious. Secrets of the Runaways’ parents are discovered at the monthly Pride meeting.

Word count: 3,279

Author’s note: I decided to write something different for a change! I’ve actually been meaning to release the first chapter of this fic since December 2019. Runaways have a special place in my heart as well as the universe of Danger Days and the Killjoys. That’s why I’ve decided to write them in one universe to honor them both. I tried to do some justice writing this chapter by adding the seedlings to Deanoru and Gertchase. Hopefully, it’s not too bad. By the way, I recommend listening to Get the Gang Together by Gerard Way as you’re reading this chapter. The chapter title was named after that song. :)

Breaking news! This just in. We just got a report that the infamous group of killjoys known as Party Poison, Fun Ghoul, Kobra Kid, and Jet Star are dead. They have finally been caught in a tragic accident that cost them their lives.

These were the words that came from the tv Molly Hernandez was watching from in the Yorkes’ living room. She was stunned at the news report. Her heroes were found dead. Molly couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It could be false, right? Sometimes you can't always trust the news. But Molly was proven wrong when the footage was shown of the four beloved heroes she looked up to were on the ground dead. She had enough when the news channel decided to give a closer look at the bodies. Molly tore her eyes away from the tv and closed her eyes. She wished those images displayed on the tv out of her mind. It was until her sister, Gert, that interrupted her from her breakdown.

“Molly?” Gert walked in the living room in search of the 16-year-old. When Gert saw what was displayed on the television screen, she frantically reached for the remote to turn it off.

The purple-haired girl kneeled by Molly’s side and asked her sister in a worried tone, “why were you watching that? You know you shouldn’t be watching stuff like that on tv, Mols.”

Molly didn’t realize tears had spilled from her eyes when she opened them to look at Gert. “T-they’re dead, Gert. The Fab Four a-are dead.”

It had dawned on to Gert the graphic images they were broadcasting on the television screen were the cause of Molly’s breakdown. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mols.” Gert moved to hug her sister.

“Who could have done such a thing? I thought they were invincible?” Molly sniffled.

“Mols, no one is invincible. Everyone has a weakness.” Gert pushed a strand of Molly’s hair behind her ear.

“The Killjoys had a weakness? Well, how come they survived in the zones for such a long time?” Molly didn’t fully believe in what Gert had to say.

“Look, I think we should continue this conversation later,” Gert said, changing the subject. “We need to go with mom and dad to the monthly Pride meeting later.”

“Wait, what?! Why are we going with them this time?” Molly whined. She started to sulk on the couch.

“I don’t know, but it must be important,” Gert got up to start packing her backpack. “You don’t want any Dracs to come here looking for you, right?”

“Why would they come over here when we’re not the enemy?” Molly questioned.

“Mols,” Gert said in a warned tone. “Just get ready. Please.”

Molly sighed exasperatedly and marched to her bedroom to get ready. “Fine!”

“Don’t forget to take your meds! It’ll calm you down!” Gert yelled. Molly closed her bedroom door in reply.

Molly clenched her fists and screamed into her pillow. She knew the Fab Four didn’t die in vain. Molly refused to think that way. There had to be someone that was behind it. And she will figure it out for herself. If she doesn't, she won’t ever forgive herself for not doing so. Thinking back to the last thing Gert told her, Molly looked at the pills that were placed on her vanity.

“Screw it. I’m done with this.” She said out loud. Grabbing the pill container, she threw it in the trash in disgust. Molly didn’t spare a second glance at her trash bin while getting ready for the meeting.

---------

Molly and Gert were sitting in one of the lounges in the Wilder house. They were waiting for the other teens to come by. Gert had to agree with how the monthly Pride meeting was boring. Like the kind that bored you to death.

“So you do agree with me?!” Molly exclaimed. “Why couldn’t you tell Stacey we should’ve passed the meeting?”

“They’re our parents, Mols. We need to listen to them.”

“They’re your parents, Gert. Not mine.” Molly retorted with a scowl.

“Look, I know you’re still torn from this morning’s news,” Gert said with a sigh. “But just for tonight, try to be on your best behavior. If you’re comfortable, you can talk more about this morning if you like.”

“I’m good. You wouldn’t understand anyway.” Molly twisted her body, facing away from the purple haired girl. Gert can’t help but feel bad.

She hated to admit it, but she knew very little about the Killjoys. Gert only knew of the things that were broadcasted on the holos and television. She tried her best to sympathize with Molly, but it felt kind of strange to do so. These Killjoys were strangers to her. Could she be able to trust them at all? And at the same time, there were other things that were more important to care about. Like what college she was going to attend. There were very few varieties in Battery City. But before she could go over the pros and cons of each college, she heard loud chatter coming from the lobby.

Gert decided to get up and make her way to the lobby of the Wilders’ home. When she stopped at the balcony, she saw none other than Chase Stein with his parents. Chase was all smiles and hugged Alex’s parents. Seeing Chase in the flesh reminded of the many years she had been pining over the jock.

She was tempted to go greet him, but Karolina and her mom appeared. Chase’s smile that he had on became extremely big when he saw the blonde.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Wilder! I made some appetizers for the adults to enjoy!” Karolina made a little gesture towards the container in her hands.

Alex’s parents were impressed by Karolina’s effort.

Honestly, Gert didn’t like girls who were like Karolina. They were WAY too perfect for her liking. Gert knew no one was perfect, but Chase has somehow fit into that definition of it. And guys like Chase were drawn to girls like Karolina. And not Gert. He never spared a glance at her when they were kids compared to Karolina. The purple haired girl walked back to the lounge, feeling her mood shift to be much shittier than before.

“Gert!” Karolina called out behind her. “It’s so nice to finally see you here after all this time! Come here!”

As soon as she turned to face Karolina, Gert was greeted with the blonde gently wrapping her arms around the purple haired girl. Gert was weirded out by the sudden hug. Why would Karolina be so glad to see her? They were polar opposites of each other.

Gert slowly retracted from the hug and mustered up a smile. “Uh yeah! It’s nice to see you too.”

“I love your hair by the way! Purple suits you well.” Gert wondered if Karolina was just saying that just to be nice or if she was genuine.

“Thanks...You’ve gotten taller.” Gert awkwardly pointed out. She wasn’t the best at small talk.

“Yeah! All thanks to my parents.” Karolina jokily made a little jazz hand gesture. “Who’s at the lounge by the way? Is Nico here?”

“No. It’s just me and Molly.” Gert decided to walk back to the lounge.

“Oh, nice. I can’t wait to catch up with Molly after all these months.” Karolina said while following the purple haired girl.

When both girls made it to the lounge, Karolina quickly hugged Molly. Gert noticed Molly’s mood went up a bit, which was good. Hopefully, her sister won’t act too grumpy for the rest of the night. Time passed by and the other teens gradually appeared in the lounge. Alex had been the one to appear last.

“Sorry I was late. I picked up some pizza for the six of us.” Alex greeted the other teens. “I’m glad you guys came.”

“Why are we here exactly, Wilder?” Chase queried with his arms crossed. “You must have your intentions.”

“I thought it was a great idea for us to hang together again, you know?” Alex replied. “Now, do you guys want to eat?”

“We came over for this? If you said you wanted to hang Alex, you could’ve texted all of us.” Molly said. “Besides, today isn’t a good day to hang.”

“Molly, just stay put. You never know, this could cheer you up and take your mind off of things.” Gert remarked.

“Wait, hold on. What does she mean?” Alex pointed out Molly’s discomfort, slightly curious.

“Don’t you dare say anything, Gert!” Molly demanded.

Gert ignored her sister’s request. She almost debated whether she shouldn’t tell, but decided to spill anyway. “She’s heartbroken about those four Killjoys dying.”

“You mean those four that showed up on the news this morning?” Alex questioned.

Gert nodded in response. Although she hated when Molly was in a bad mood, she didn’t feel it was necessary for Molly to keep sulking around.

“I hate to say this Molly, but they were outlaws and criminals,” Alex stated.

“Excuse me?” Molly stood up from her seat, obviously offended. “What they’ve been doing was brave. They were fighting for a good cause!”

“You do know our parents are the ones that work for BL/ind. Going against BL/ind means going against our parents.”

“Well, my parents aren’t my real parents so…” Molly crossed her arms and glared at Alex.

“Guys, can we please stop arguing? Look, Molly’s mourning and she sounds like she’s having a rough day. Give it a rest, Alex.” Karolina said as she coaxed Molly to sit back on the couch. Molly obliged and Karolina sat next to her.

“I’m just being realistic.” Alex adjusted his glasses. The pizza was still untouched at this point.

“Well, you don’t have to remind us. Let Molly be.” Karolina was rubbing soothing circles on Molly’s back.

“I honestly agree with Molly. You could have just texted us if you wanted to hang out rather than use our parents’ monthly meeting to your advantage.” Chase said.

“Would you guys have replied or even cared to look at my text? We haven’t been together since-”

“Don’t,” Nico warned. “Don’t say it.” For a moment, the whole room became silent. That was the first thing Nico has said the entire time the teens got together for the night.

“I thought you weren’t listening to us,” Alex said with a hint of surprise.

Nico smiled meekly. “Oh, I’ve been listening. It’s just that I don’t want to be here as well.”

“Oh, uh okay.” Alex shifted his foot awkwardly. “How about we do something fun like Twister to lift your spirits up?”

“What are we? 12?” Chase replied. “We’re not kids anymore.”

“Well okay. If you don’t want to do that, then let me show you something else.” Alex abandoned the pizza and walked over to a table near the wall. “Maybe this is something that might be on your level of fun.”

The rest of the teens looked at each other confused at what was to come next. Alex turned a stack of coasters that were on the table. The shelves nearby the door parted, revealing a doorway.

“You guys can go on without me. I’ll just stay here and wait until you come back.” Molly was heading to take a seat on the couch again until Gert stopped her.

“No, Mols. You’re coming with us.” Gert held her hand. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

Molly sighed and let Gert lead her further in the secret passageway. The teens walked inside with Alex leading the group. They were close to each other in case something happened. There was a room at the end of the passageway. Once the teens reached the end, they looked around the room.

“What is all this?” Nico stared at the room in bewilderment.

“I’m not entirely sure. I discovered the secret passageway earlier today, but didn’t see what was inside.” Alex wondered out loud. A bunch of spread out papers near him caught his eye. “And what are these?”

The teens gathered around the table Alex was standing near. There were a bunch of documents littered all over the table. The documents contained photos of people that looked like their age. What was unsettling was that their photos had been crossed off. All of the photos that were crossed off were listed as exterminated in bold.

Gert took one of the documents and scanned it. “This is currently striking high on the disturbing meter,” Gert commented worriedly. “Does exterminated mean killed?”

“Sounds like it,” Nico said before noticing something off. “My mom’s purse is in here. Where could she be?”

“If these documents are here, then I don’t think our parents have been doing any good for the city.” Chase looked at the others. “I wouldn’t be surprised if my dad was a cold-blooded killer.”

The teens heard footsteps echoing below them. All of their eyes widened. They scrambled to look for hiding spots. Luckily, they found a secret room that has a window overlooking the bigger room outside.

“Bring the girl in. We don’t have all day to do this.” Tina grumbled.

Leslie entered the vast space with a teenage girl beside her.

“Wait a minute. I know that girl.” Karolina said.

“You know her?” Alex turned to the blonde.

“Yeah, she’s a part of the church. What’s she doing here?”

“Leslie, where am I? Who are these people?” The girl looked at the teens’ parents frantically. “I don’t recognize them from the church.”

“It’s okay, Destiny. They’re helping me with the initiation.” Leslie assured. She gave a bottle to Destiny that contained an unknown liquid. “Here, drink this.”

Destiny nodded, trusting the church head. How could she say no to her anyway? She took the bottle in her hands and took a sip. Destiny immediately almost dropped the bottle after she finished, but Geoffrey caught it.

Destiny held her head. “I don’t feel so good. What was in that drink?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” Leslie ignored her question. She rubbed Destiny’s back before turning to Victor. “Are we ready, Victor?”

“As always. We never run out of masks.” Victor noted confidently. He hands a Draculoid mask to Geoffrey.

Destiny was trembling. Leslie was still comforting the girl. “Just hold still. It will all be over soon.”

Geoffrey swiftly pulled the mask on Destiny. She tried to resist, but Leslie was holding her still. As soon as the mask was completely on Destiny, she screamed.

“Wait maybe you shouldn't see this, Mols.” Gert reaches to cover Molly’s eyes.

Molly moved Gert’s hand away from her. “I deserve to know what’s going on!” When Molly stole a glimpse of what happened to Destiny, she almost screamed. Gert reached to cover her adoptive sister’s mouth. She looked at the other teens. They also adopted a look of horror on their face.

“Did you hear that?” Geoffrey looked around the area suspiciously. “I heard something.”

They looked at the window that overlooked where the parents stood. There was nobody there.

---------

“Your foot is not in the right place!”

“Get off of me!”

“You’re cheating!”

Those were the things Alex’s parents heard coming from the lounge. Catherine greeted the teens, “Hey guys. We hope we’re not interrupting you all.”

“Hi, mom! Nah, we’re just playing Twister.” Alex said.

“You guys actually came when things were about to get interesting,” Molly commented.

Alex’s parents nodded. Geoffrey spoke this time, “It looks like you guys are having fun. Your parents will be downstairs when you’re ready to go.” They waved the teens goodbye and left.

The teens watched as Alex’s parents leave. Karolina was the first person to say something. “Did you think they suspected a thing?”

“I sure hope they didn’t. Them finding out is probably the death of us.” Chase commented.

The teens separated from their game of Twister. They stood up, dusting themselves off.

“So what are we going to do, Alex?” Gert asked. “We can’t just stay here and pretend nothing happened.”

“Just act normal when you guys leave with your parents. I’ll text you guys to meet up tomorrow.” Alex told the other teens.

“Where are we meeting up? Somewhere in Battery City?” Molly wondered.

“Our safest bet is to meet in one of our homes,” Alex told the other teens. “Devising a meeting in Battery City is dangerous. The security is very tight there.”

The rest of the teens nodded in agreement. There was no use in disagreeing with each other.

---------

“Hey, Gert. Have you seen Karolina?” Chase asked Gert who was on her holo. The pair were in the lobby.

“Am I boring you with my appearance already?” Gert automatically replied without looking up from her holo.

“No! That was not what I meant.” Chase defensively said. “It’s an honest question.”

“Unfortunately, no. Is that all you wanted to say to me?”

“Look, I just wanted to know if you knew where she was. Also, I wanted to check up on you and Molly after what we just saw.” Chase explained. “It must be pretty harsh for Molly to experience that.”

“Yeah, but I think she’s alright now. She’s a strong girl.” Gert powered off her holo and looked up at Chase. “And as for me, I’m doing peachy.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Chase dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Gert knew he was a little nervous. She heard his mom call for him. “Well, looks like I gotta go. It was nice seeing you, Gert.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Gert watched Chase exit the house with his parents. She didn’t bother giving her childhood crush a smile.

She stood there until Molly showed up. She couldn’t believe Chase actually had the guts to try to talk to her. Maybe Alex getting the gang back together wasn’t so bad after all.

---------

“Hey, Karolina. You alright?” Nico politely asked the blonde. The two girls were outside of the house. “I noticed you’ve been quiet before we parted from the lounge.”

“Uh yeah. I guess I’m fine? I’m not entirely sure if what we saw back there was real.” Karolina rambled. “Like my mom is the head of a church. There’s no way she would act that way.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing. I wouldn’t think my parents would be like that.” Nico says. “But I guess we can figure this out together?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Karolina smiles at the goth. “You know, I don’t think I have your number on my holo.”

“Oh, hand it over. I’ll type it in.”

Karolina handed her holo towards Nico. “Thanks. I think it’s for the best you know. After everything that happened tonight.”

“Yeah, I thought Alex couldn’t get any weirder.” Nico handed the holo back to the blonde. Their hands touched a little in the process.

Karolina’s mother had pulled up to the curb near the Wilders’ home. Karolina said, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow.” Nico smiled a little. She watched Karolina open the car door and hopped into the front passenger seat of her mother’s car. The blonde waved at Nico goodbye and she waved back. Nico looked back at her holo and smiled at the recently added number.

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