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burninlovebutler · 1 year

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Just an Intern // Part 3

pairing: austin x makeup artist!reader | word count: 8.7k-ish

warnings: angst, smut, FLUFF???, confusing arrogant asshole!austin, one bed, alcohol, hot tub 👀, fingering, play fighting, lots of dialogue, fries lore lol, truth or dare, name calling, physical altercation, yelling, screaming, crying, i am so sorry (but not really), 18+ MDNI

summary: while the set of Bikeriders remains buried under snow, you're imprisoned at the nearest ski lodge, in the last vacancy with none other than your arch nemesis. as the novelty of a packed resort wears off quickly, you find yourself on a drunken adventure led by an unexpected partner in crime... literally.

PART 1 | PART 2 | see my masterlist for all other fics ♡

vibes: just an intern spotify playlist ⛓️

Let's cause a little trouble Oh, you make me feel so weak I bet you kiss your knuckles Right before they touch my cheek

But I've got my mind, made up this time 'Cause there's a menace in my bed

Can you see his silhouette?

A glaring white morning light lulled you from your slumber. You were so warm and comfortable…. too warm and comfortable. Your eyes shot open and your body stilled completely the minute you sensed a heavy arm that was wrapped around your waist and a body pressed against your backside.

What the fuck

Last night’s events raced through your mind, remembering your transgressions with the actor vividly, but the end was quite fuzzy. All you remembered was going to shower then coming out to a completely dark room with Austin sleeping at the far edge of the twin sized bed, facing away from you. Then you slipped into bed, turned the opposite direction and fell asleep.

How the fuck did you end up being little spoon to the man that told you he’d rather rot in hell than sleep next to you. You stared at the wooden wall, following each swirl as if it would give you the answer to get out from this death trap of impending doom. You decided to take the plunge and try to slip from his grasp. A slight sleepy groan rumbled behind you made your eyes squeeze shut, like you were expecting a bomb to go off.

You knew exactly the song and dance it would ensue – some furious accusation and an insult.

Much to your surprise you felt him freeze just as you did then try to escape quietly. The realization hit that he perhaps didn’t know you were awake either. I mean realistically what would he reprimand you for? He was wrapped around you, what was he going to claim? That you forced him to play big spoon?

You chose to keep your place, taking advantage of the predisposition that you were still asleep. Besides it would give you just a sliver of peace before you had to go back to his ‘Intern’. There was a slight tug of sheets, then a cold emptiness when he pulled from the mattress.

He let out another hushed grunt then, “Fuck.” He mumbled to himself silently. You curiously opened one eye to observe him. He rounded the bed going to the dresser, tapping his fingertips across the top like he was looking for something. His hand landed on a pair of black rimmed glasses you hadn’t noticed when you went to bed in the dark. You couldn’t help but prop up a subtle brow.

Wanting to savor this little secret you stumbled upon, you decided to ‘wake up’ giving a performative stretch before cocooning yourself in the duvet. “Glasses huh?” You held back a ‘caught ya’ smirk, then a stifled giggle when you noticed him jump a tiny bit at the surprise.

He turned at the startle and instantly rolled his eyes. He hadn’t been awake not even 5 minutes and he was already annoyed with you. “Yes, I wear glasses, big whoop.”

“Well, I just didn’t know.” You tugged your bottom lip in trying not to laugh at his obviously embarrassed reaction.

“There’s lots of things you don’t know about me, Intern.” He spat back, turning to the phone ringing – to the tune of… Burnin Love? by Elvis? You were learning more about this man than you cared to know. He snatched his phone so fast, before it even got to the ‘hunka hunka’. Another thing he was clearly embarrassed about.

“What’s up?” While he spoke into the phone you found yourself distracted by the muscular lines of his bare back, just then noticing he was shirtless. His skin was golden and was toned like a swimmer. You followed the curvatures of his body down to were they met small dimples in his lower back then disappeared into blue stripped pajama pants.

His evidently aggravated groan snapped you out of your expedition down his body.

“Fucking great.” Bringing his hand to both temples. “We’re still fucking snowed in. We’re stuck here until tomorrow at least.”

Fuck

“I take it there are no other rooms available?”

“No Intern, obviously not, the roads are closed. Nobody can fucking leave.”

You both went your separate ways and you couldn’t have been happier, finally getting a moment to breathe and relax. There was a tiny café within the resort that you hid in most of the day taking time to catch up on the book you had been neglecting. The snow outside continued to pile up with no end in sight. Your odds of escaping Austin weren’t looking very promising. While it was what you wanted, there was a part of you – the machoistic part of you – that didn’t want it to end, just yet.

Before you knew it, it was evening and you were trying to avoid the hotel room at all costs, not wanting to risk running into Austin. So, you found yourself at the same bar from the Landon incident yesterday. You pressed your palms against the bar ledge that was littered with your coworkers, including Landon out of the corner of your eye. He sent a chill up your spine, but he seemed distracted by some giggly extra.

“Vodka soda please.” You ordered from the rather attractive bar tender. Maybe you could end up in someone else’s bed that night, maybe it would stave off the remnants Austin’s touch left on you. Regardless you had a mission - getting fucking wasted. How else were you supposed to deal with the confusion clouding in your head?

About 2 vodka sodas in, an aggravated sigh came from your left, “You would be here.” Said the exact voice you were trying to elude.

“What the fuck does that mean?” You rolled your eyes turning to him. He wore a plain black shirt that hugged his toned arms, tight dark denim jeans and leather boots.

He shrugged, “You just would.” Evading the question. “I guess I don’t blame you, there’s nothing else open in here at night.”

“Exactly.” You agreed taking a sip of your third drink, sending a warmth through your veins, then down to your core at the sight of his skilled fingers wrapped around a half-drank bourbon on the rocks.

“Last call!” Boomed from the tattooed bar tender.

“What?” You questioned, surprised. You tapped your phone screen to wake the time, “What, it’s only 12?”

“Bar closes at 12 on Sundays.” The worker informed, beginning his closing duties by wiping down the counter.

“Augh.” Austin groaned easily downing the remainder of his drink and harshly landed it on the bar. Without another word he was already out the door, likely at one of the cast’s room parties that had been going on.

You were in no rush to be alone in a hotel room but after a stroll through an uneventful empty lobby you decided to call it a night.

Opening the door to your room you noticed something that had been hiding behind a curtain, a wide open door. Being under the impression that the actor would be in some room party, you hesitantly tiptoed across the room. Your mind ping-ponged between the possibilities.

Maybe a resident had found the wrong room

Maybe you found the wrong room

Maybe the door hadn’t been locked and was swung open by the vicious snowy winds

Maybe it was a ghost

Finally at the door you peered through it from the edge to find… a hot tub? The jetted pool sat on a wooden platform covered by the room above’s balcony. And there sat the asshole right in the middle with another full drink in his grasp.

“Where have you been!” The blonde called out in a playful tune, the alcohol evidently taken over his body. “Did you know we have a hot tub?” His voice almost excited.

“Uh…” The entire scene threw you completely off, you’d never so much as seen this man smile and now, he was lightly playing in the water. “Am I hallucinating or are you actually having a good time?”

“C’mon get in here.” He gestured to join him hurriedly, ignoring your question.

“Austin it’s fucking freezing, you’re insane.” You thought he was even crazier when you realized that he was shirtless, because what else would you wear in a jacuzzi. “I’m not getting in there.” Shaking your head vehemently.

“It’s warm in here c’mon.” His gestures even more exaggerated through the steam that brewed above the water.

You shifted from one foot to another and chewed on your lip weighing your options. What else were you going to do? And who were you to turn down a hot tub?

“Augh fine.” You huffed, peeling your shirt over your head and unzipping then dropping your jeans. A blast of cold wind hit your bare body, covered only in a bra and panties. Your arms immediately wrapped around yourself shivering as you shuffled across the wood slats and up the short stairs.

You let out a relieved sigh once your shoulders were below the warm water across from him. “You’re fucking crazy.”

He gave you his signature eye roll, “Loosen up will ya? You’re always so stiff.”

You couldn’t help but let out loud scoff, “Me? Nah, that’s all you Actor.”

He let a chuckle as he lulled his head back, his arms resting on the edge of the tub. “Yeah, I guess I could stand to loosen up a little.”

“That’s a fucking understatement.” The edges of your lips tied into a smile.

“Hey,” He furrowed his thick brows at you, his face only illuminated by the blue tone of the pool. “That’s not very nice.” A light flick of water propelled at you from his fingertips.

“Hey!” You dodged the attack, “That wasn’t very nice.” Splashing warm water back at him.

“Oh, I don’t think you wanna play this game, Intern.” He brows propped up throwing another wave of water at you.

“Oh, I think I do Actor.” Swimming diagonal from him giving you a new angle to battle him with a rush of water.

He feigned surprise, “You’re goin’ down.” Mimicking your actions, getting you good that time, soaking you completely.

A giggle left your mouth as you attempted to swim in the opposite direction splashing him back once more. You heard another foreign laugh from him matching yours. “No, you’re goin’ down buddy.”

In some miscalculation you ended up near him and mid splashing war you felt familiar sizable hands take hold of your waist pulling you into his lap.

What kinda twilight zone were you in when this menace was play fighting and giggling with you?

After the initial stun of the move, you caught your breath your eyes meeting his. The ebbing waves from the tub reflected into his aqua eyes, the ripples of the water seemed to swim in them.

Silence fell between you both as the laughter had dissipated and the only communication was in your stare. You tried to place his thoughts by analyzing his eyes. At that point you had gotten fairly good at reading him though this sight was new, and you had no clue at what was behind it.

His eyes flickered between yours and your lips, the proximity of him now very apparent. The scent of bourbon laid thick on his breath. Your own air lodged in your throat as you took in the sight of him. Under the glow of the moon, he looked so soft, a lens you’d never seen him through before. He was so exquisite like that - flushed rosy cheeks, drunken glossy eyes and all.

Your entire body froze when his lips met yours, his arms wrapping around your torso. Whether it was the alcohol, the moon or your genuine desire, something let yourself melt into it fully. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepened the kiss. You expected him to escalate it with his tongue the way he did before, but he didn’t, his lips just took yours in completely.

You decided to take the plunge and slide your tongue against his bottom lip asking for entrance and he complied. His hands slid up your sides pulling you closer and your hands tangled into the little curls at the nape of his neck. The entire experience was different than any other time you’d hooked up with him, it mirrored his current demeanor – soft, gentle. He wasn’t groping and squeezing like he normally did, he just held you as your tongues danced together.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and found a not surprising prominent bulge beneath you. A groan rumbled in his chest when you pressed your panty-covered warmth against his boxer-covered erection.

As you grinded against him, the feeling of his tip nudging your bundle made you so desperate to relieve the rampant buzzing in your core. It was making you weak and was distracting you from the kiss. You reluctantly pulled from his soft lips and fell onto his shoulder letting out tiny whimpers as he rocked his hips against you.

He pressed full kisses in the curvature of your neck causing a churning in your tummy that wasn’t arousal, but something different. Something familiar but you couldn’t quite place. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He mumbled into your shoulder, his voice deep and dripping in liquor.

A short breathy whimper involuntarily escaped you, “You think so?” Your inner voice taking no time in reprimanding you for seeking validation from such a douchebag. His names for you weren’t normally so kind, nevertheless a compliment.

“Mhm,” He hummed against your shoulder, his hand tangling in your hair as he peppered kisses across your skin. “The prettiest.” He whispered below your ear, unleashing a kaleidoscope of butterflies throughout your chest, your ribcage locking them in. You knew it was the alcohol talking but you clung to every word.

You were so needy for him that only small moans left your mouth, “Please Austin, I need your cock.” You breathed out, your heart beating so hard you thought it might pop out. Your hips rutted against his length the wet material of your panties allowing your lips to part around his shaft, teasing him with your entrance. “Please?” Exaggerating your whine.

He groaned at your actions, fingers harshly digging into your thighs. “No.” He said simply, his touch now gliding up your thighs, “Let me take care of you.”

His response took you by surprise, “W-what?” You stuttered but didn’t pull from him. A hand drew up your inner thigh, scorching the skin it passed, then fingers up your panties.

“Let me take care of you baby.” He repeated, his fingertips easily pulling your panties to the side and rolled the pads of his fingers around your clit. A gasp left your lips at the sudden pleasure.

“Fuck.” You faintly muttered against his neck and leaned into his touch. “Please. I need you.” Your right hand tugging at his hair and the left curling into his shoulder.

“I wanna try something, do you trust me?” He asked, the question throwing you off, both at what he could possibly be thinking and whether you knew the answer. It occurred to you that it was the second time he’d asked you that impossible question, the first time in the saloon on set. You wondered on what planet he was living on where he had given you any reason to trust him. If anything, he should be the last person on earth to trust. And yet, you lied, “Hm- Yes.” Curious to find out his idea.

He purred against your shoulder and gently lifted your hips off of him then placed you across his lap. With one hand he slid your panties down your legs and draped it over the edge of the pool. You held onto him by an arm around his neck as his hand slid up your thighs again and spread them wide.

The pads of his fingers once again found your core, rounding your swollen nub then down dipping into your entrance. “Fuck.” You breathed out as his digits curled into your sweet spot. You let him float you to the edge of the tub, it was unclear to you why until you felt the strong stream of water from one of the jets. A sharp gasp fell from your lips at the immediate pressure.

“Oh my god,” Your chest was heaving, and your nails dug into his back. While the jet took care of your clit, his fingers were taking care of your core, fucking you in a way you never thought fingers could. It was rhythmic like a choreographed dance, every pump into your pussy landed in a curl into your g-spot and you never knew you could feel so much pleasure from so many areas at once. Your heart was thumping in your throat with a tight knot in your stomach threatening you to unravel already. “Oh my god Austin.”

“I know baby, I know.” He continued his plight on your neck, trailing passionate kisses all over it. “Feels good doesn’t it?” He asked.

“Y-Yeah- Fuck.” You could barely hear him over the pounding in your ears. His little experiment with you was overriding every nerve, waves of tingling pleasure washing through you, even causing your toes to curl. “Fuck Aus, I’m close I’m so fucking close.” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut barely holding on to your sanity. The bliss was practically numbing your brain, every thought was him, only him. His eyes that could make you wet with just one look, his plump lips that stamped kisses all over you, his skilled tongue against your own and even better on your clit, the curve of his neck and collar bone where you’d place your own kisses, his agile hips that allowed him to drill his perfect fucking cock into you. Right then you could’ve sworn he was some Greek god from the insurmountable euphoria that possessed your body.

His mouth pulled your skin into a suck while his tongue swirled over the darkening spot. “Let it out baby c’mon, cum for me.” His deep voice rumbled against your neck. That and a perfectly synchronized hit of the jet stream on your throbbing bundle and his fingers curved into you, set off your climax. The height of your orgasm ripped through you so violently that your moans were completely silent – which you we’re grateful for because you knew your coworkers were just above you. Your nails dug into his shoulder and your thighs clamped around his hand and you heard him let out a sort of entertained chuckle. If you weren’t underwater your juices most definitely would’ve soaked his thigh completely.

Once fully spent, you fell limp on his chest, heavy breaths flowing into his neck, “Fuck.” You murmured. His arm curled around your waist, pulling you closer against him. The act was so intimate compared to… well any other interaction you’d had with him. He was always so cold and rigid, now he was tender and warm. You blinked up at him, his focus on the stars above you. Even his moonlit features were soft compared to his normal sharp edges. “You sure like to use water fixtures as sex toys huh.” You tugged a lip between your teeth hoping the joke would land.

He took a moment to respond, his brows scrunching together before looking down at you, “Huh?”

You let out a tiny giggle, “Because the faucet on set-“

“Oh oh, yeah!” He boomed a drunken laugh straight from deep in his chest, “Yeah, I guess I do.” Looking down at you, for a moment you couldn’t tell the difference between the stary midnight sky behind him and the twinkling navy in his eyes. “Did you not like it? Because it seemed like you did-“ His voice sounded almost insecure, as if he was worried about disappointing you. The hint of insecurity echoed the one from earlier in the hotel room, about his glasses.

“No, no I definitely do.” You laughed, pulling yourself up to wrap both arms around his neck, straddling him once again. “I’ve just never been with someone so… innovative.” Your lips pressed together to stifle a chuckle.

The joke earned you another hearty laugh from the glowing blonde, which made you realize you’d barely heard him laugh before, nonetheless smile. And right now, he was a grinning mess, and he hadn’t even cum. From the lack of stiffness beneath you it seemed that the alcohol had taken its toll. Under any other circumstances, if there was a more competitive game at play, you would’ve tried your hardest to return the favor. But he was giggly and touchy and the nicest you’d ever seen him, you didn’t want to cut it short, so you laid against his shoulder again just taking in his breathing.

“You’re pretty funny.” He said once he caught his breath from laughing.

“Yeah?” You blushed and a giant grin pulled at your lip’s edges, for some reason you felt embarrassed and hid further into his neck. “I’m glad you think so.” You whispered beneath his ear and molded your body further around his, taking advantage of his warmth. He reciprocated, wrapping you up in his arms.

Silence fell for what felt like an eternity and you thought for sure the moment was about to end, and this unicorn version of asshole actor would disappear. But he surprised you yet again.

“I’m hungry.” He stated simply, “I want fries.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “What?”

“I want fries!” He repeated, matter-of-factly. “We should go get fries.”

“Austin, where the fuck are we gonna get fries? The kitchens are closed and it’s not like we can DoorDash in a snowstorm.” You stated the obvious, sitting up in his lap.

You watched the gears churning in his head as if it was a difficult equation before the most mischievous playful smirk spread across his face. Immediately you knew it couldn’t mean anything good. “Austin,” You warned, propping up a cautious eyebrow, “What are you thinking.”

He practically threw you off of him, landing you to be floating alone in what now seemed like a giant empty ocean without him in it. He scrambled quickly into the hotel room, dripping water across the carpet, only in some plaid boxers. Once the blur of the action caught up to you, you followed suit, nearly flying out of the tub into the freezing cold air. “What are you doing!” You called after him as he hastily dried off with a towel and changed into sweats and a hoodie faster than you’d ever seen anyone move.

The mischievous smile never left his face in his hurried actions and stayed focused on his mission. In that moment you realized you were now babysitting a drunken toddler. Like any good caretaker, you matched his speed but soon remembered your limited wardrobe choices. He was already halfway out the door and the only reasonably warm and accessible choices were another hoodie and pair of sweats from his duffle.

“Austin!” You first shouted loudly after him, stumbling out the door trying to slide fully into your sneakers. Then in a more hushed yell, not wanting to wake the entire lodge at 2 am. “Where are you going!”

“Fries!” He threw over his shoulder as he booked it down the stairs.

“Hey! Slow down!” Taking a moment to catch your breath before following him down the two flights of mahogany stairs. “You couldn’t have taken the elevator at least?”

Finally, you caught up to him, standing in front of the restaurant that hosted the rotating buffet during the day. You leaned over attempting to catch your breath gripping your chest, reminding you that maybe a weekly gym day wouldn’t hurt. “They’re clearly closed Aus.” You huffed out, gesturing your arm at the darkened restaurant. The way it was laid out was that the floor was open so the buffet serving areas and seating were open, but the kitchen was locked. He was bent over eyeing the lock. “You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?”

“Hmmm.” He hummed and stood up to face you, he held his tongue between his lips as he seemed to analyze you, then reached into your damp hair and plucked out a bobby pin you had forgotten was in there. He went back to his crouched position, unfolding the metal accessory in his sizable hands.

“No no no.” You whispered, “Austin you’re gonna get us in trouble what are you doing!”

“I’m opening a door that we found, already open y/n, obviously.” He slid the pin into the keyhole and wiggled it around.

“Oh god you’re really doing this aren’t you.” You brought a hand to your temple.

It didn’t take long for the doorknob to click open, probably because the hotel didn’t think patrons would be breaking in. “Aha!” He proclaimed, flinging the door open and turning on the blinding overhead lights. Relief washed over you when you didn’t hear immediate alarms blaring.

“I fucking can’t believe you’re doing this.” You exasperated, dropping your arms at your sides, “You know there aren’t going to be just magically fresh fries right?”

“Relax Intern,” His mission stayed focused on pillaging the stainless-steel industrial kitchen for his desired snack. “I know what I’m doing.” Waving you off.

“Oh,” You placed both hands on your hips, “You break into kitchens often?”

He shot you an unimpressed look, “No, if you must know,” He somehow miraculously found the frozen fries. “I used to work in a kitchen, I know how to make some pretty fuckin’ dope fries.” He inspected the knobs of the deep fryer and clicked it to a high setting.

“Oh, you mean before you were just an actor?” You sassed, crossing your arms across your chest and popping out a hip.

He rolled his eyes at you, “Believe it or not I was once a struggling actor.” The fries sizzled in the oil when he dunked an obscene amount of into the appliance.

“Ah, I see the humbleness didn’t stick around.” You teased back, walking over to the wall and flipped off 3/4ths of the blinding fluorescent lights, leaving only the one’s above the counters.

He shot you another glare, “Keep talkin’ like that and ya aren’t gonna get any fries.”

You contemplated continuing your defiance but ultimately decided the midnight snack was more important. They were already in the fryer after all, might as well follow through.

He drew the fries from the oil, threw them into a giant silver bowl, and salted them like a pro, tossing them in the air and everything.

You ended up on the floor of the dark kitchen, sat across from him binging on the perfectly golden fries and a random wine bottle you’d found. For someone who was evidently wasted, they were beyond impressive. “Damn, you weren’t lying, these are so fucking good.” You complimented then shoved a handful of salty fries into your mouth. On a first date, you’d never eat like that in front of anyone, but this wasn’t a first date, this was a drunken adventure with an asshole.

“I told you.” He went for another fistful of salted potatoes. “I was the best damn line cook that surf and turf place had ever seen.” He sassed, waving a fry for extra attitude.

Your eyes rolled involuntarily, “You so would work at a surf and turf restaurant.”

He feigned insult with a dropped jaw, “What is that supposed to mean!”

You giggled and shrugged, taking a sip from the wine bottle. “You just give that typa vibe.” You teased, covering your mouth to hide the chuckle that threatened to erupt.

“Well, that’s not very nice.” He picked up a fry and tossing it at you. He shot a smirk at you then stole the wine bottle, taking a long swig. His plump lips molded around the bottle opening, his adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow.

You gasped, “You’re not very nice.” You plucked a fry from the heap and hurled it back at him. His gaze turned to a playful one, moving slowly to the bowl scooping a bundle of fries and heaving them at you.

“You’re a fucking child you know that?” Your tone serious but gasping an equal bit of fries while he was focused on your expression, throwing it right back at him. First the water fight and now this? Who the fuck abducted Actor and who was sitting across from you?

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.” He sat up on his knees, taking a fistful of your improvised dinner and aimed a bit too close to your face. Your hands immediately covered your eyes, “Ow!” You whined, sitting back on your legs, “You hit my eye!”

Instantly you heard him move the bowl and wine out of the way to cross the gap between you. “Oh my god I’m so sorry.” The hands that normally had been so rough on you, now delicately holding onto your wrists.

“It really hurts.” You whimpered, not moving your hands from your face.

“I didn’t mean to y/n, I swear.” He said softly then gently tugging at your hands. “C’mon let me see, we can wash out your eyes or something.”

A mischievous smirk spread across your lips beneath your hands, taking the fries that landed on you and smushing them into his chest. “Ha! I gotcha!”

Utter shock softened his face once he realized he’d been played. “That’s not fucking funny, I thought I- that I had-“ He struggled to find his words amidst the swirl of competitiveness and deception. It seemed as though his thoughts had halted as he watched your expression. The silence bounding around the industrial kitchen was haunting, unsure as to whether he was actually upset or if he would counter your move.

While you were attempting to decipher his motives, he abruptly took your cheeks into his large hands and pulled you into a kiss. The way his lips felt pressed against yours sent flutters down into your tummy, but they were different than the usual flurries of desire he gave you, these almost made you sick.

It took no time for your own hands to find a home tangled his hair. He inched forward indicating that he wanted you to lay back and you obeyed the silent request, slowly leaning back to land flat against the thankfully freshly mopped floor.

The kiss was tender, not hungry or ravenous, not even pushing to enter your mouth. In that moment, he wasn’t looking for anything more than that.

Your lips stayed locked for what seemed like a lifetime. A part of you almost grew uncomfortable at the intimacy, reflexively wanting to deepen the kiss. That’s all he’d ever wanted before after all, wasn’t it? You’d never had just a kiss before, with no ulterior motives. Why would he?

So, you wanted to fast forward to the part you knew was coming, not wanting to linger in a meaningless moment longer than necessary. You couldn’t afford to hold onto a fantasy, nor did you want to. But every muscle in your body ceased to function. His hands held your face and drew the pads of his thumbs across your cheekbones gently while your fingers traveled through his hair like a maze.

He was the exactly that - a maze, a human embodiment of one. You followed each path of his thinking you figured the way out, only to find you had no idea what you were doing or where you were going. You were trapped within an impossible labyrinth you never meant to enter.

His lips struggled to demagnetize from yours and hovered above your face. His navy eyes swirled reluctance, seemingly lost in some maze of his own. “I uh-“ He sat back on his legs, scratching the back of his head and eyes diverting from you. “We should probably head back to the room.”

And just like that, you reached another dead end in his labyrinth.

When you woke the next morning, the bed was empty. At first it took you by surprise, then a pit formed in your stomach. It was naïve of you to think that your drunken adventures with a rare Austin would change anything, foolish to think that version of him would stick around in the sober daylight. You wanted so badly to believe that wasn’t the truth, but you knew it was.

It dawned on you, why did that pit even form? This was the shithead that tormented you at work, treated you like shit and called you insufferable. In what twisted reality should you be sad that the illusion of a decent human fueled by alcohol didn’t stay for breakfast. At what point did you decide you wanted that version of him to stay? That’s not really what you want, was it? Of course not.

You brought your palms and pressed them into your eyes in a feeble attempt to clear out the thoughts swirling in your head. In a swift fling of the thick bedding, you unglued yourself from the bed, shuffling over to the window to check on the snow status. Thick snow still coated every surface, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as before, which meant that you’d probably be freed from this prison in the next day or two.

“Thank fucking god.” You mumbled to yourself, instinctively tucking your arms into your sides when you felt a chill. It was only then that you realized that you were still wearing his clothes. For whatever reason, you did a quick scan of the room as if someone would see you pulling up the collar of the hoodie taking an inhale. It smelled like him mingled with his cologne, a woodsy musk. You mentally scolded yourself when the tinge of longing filled your chest. Why the fuck would you miss him?

Then the memory of you sitting with him on the kitchen floor flashed across your mind pulling a giddy grin across your lips. “Fucking stop it.” Smacking your palm into your forehead. You shook your head trying to shake out whatever fucked up disease had taken over your mind, that was the only explanation for what you were feeling. The best way you could think of trying to remedy this ailment of yours was to take a long, hot shower. Maybe it’d wash it all away.

Once in the bathroom you let out a groan when you noticed all the towels were used and thrown about. “Fucking men.”

You headed down to the lobby and got the attention of a clerk. “Hi sorry to bother you but could I possibly get some more towels?”

“Sure of course! It’s no bother sweetie.” The middle-aged attendant sweetly smiled before heading into the back office.

She returned with a tower of fresh white towels. “There you go hon.” Placing them on the granite counter in front of you, “Your boyfriend use ‘em all?” She questioned in a joking tone.

You reflexively scoffed, “He’s definitely not my boyfriend.”

“Hm.” She pressed her lips together as if she had more to say but didn’t want to divulge.

“What?” You asked curiously, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Well it’s just- well I remembered you both from the night the snowstorm first hit so-“ She seemed to be trying to piece together some pieces of a puzzle in her head.

“…Mhm?” You urged on curious as to where this could possibly be going.

“So, when we had a vacancy open up yesterday, we called and asked him if he wanted to take it.” You knitted your brows together as you now tried to piece together the puzzle. “And well… he declined. So, I just assumed…”

“He turned down a room to himself?” You repeated for clarification, which was met with a timid nod, obviously feeling guilty for sharing personal information. “I uh, I have to go.” You stated shortly, snatching the tower of towels, “Thank you so much!” You thanked while you quickly made it back to the room.

After your much needed long, hot shower you decided to roam the all-inclusive resort. The only perk of being there was that there was decent amount of things to do during the day. From bars to in house casinos, arcades, spas, even a bowling alley. While you told yourself it was because you were bored, in the pit of your tummy there was a part of you that hoped you’d bump into your…enemy?

You wandered around the wooden halls of the resort with a pamphlet of all your options. Each corridor, room and lobby were decorated in typical lodge décor, animal heads on the wall, buffalo print everything, luxurious fireplaces. Everything except the deer heads was stunning, if you visited under different circumstances the mini vacation would’ve been a tranquil little getaway.

Since Austin supposedly hated you, Landon was a creep and Tom had his own friend group, you were alone. There was a door at the very end of the hallway that intrigued you. Once you peered in you saw a much cozier den-style bar, a huge square sectional couch facing a stone fireplace. On the opposite a very quaint bar. As you scanned the room for possible acquaintances you landed on a group of familiar faces.

“Y/N!” Called Tom, “You’re just in time. We’re just about to play truth or dare!”

What we were in 6th grade?

You locked eyes with your resident tormentor, because of course he’d be there. There was a split second where you thought things would be different after last night but when he gave you a warning look to decline the game offer, you knew it was a pipe dream. That gentle, playful man from the hot tub and the kitchen was gone, just like that. Then, the hatred you’d always felt before piped back into you, like a coffee pot filling with molten hot caffeine. Keeping eye contact with him the edges of your lips curled into a cocky smile, “Sounds great.” You sauntered over to the place next to Tom that faced opposite of Austin.

A few rounds of the game ensued, nothing too juicy at first but the game soon heated up when the group had downed a fair number of drinks. It was a stagehand’s turn to dare Austin. The brunette male, who had been working near many of your interactions together, gave him a playful smirk, “I dare you…” His eyes landed on you, “To make out with y/n.”

How fucking juvenile

You weren’t sure why the absolute jarring panic settled into your stomach, but Austin’s expression of immediate disgust didn’t help.

“I’m not doing that.” He said sternly, his tone oddly irritated.

“Oh, c’mon dude, it’s just a kiss.” The stagehand, Ryan, prodded jokingly.

“No. I’m not fucking doing it, give me a truth.” His brows low and knitted, eyes dark and mean.

“Fine.” Ryan, clearly annoyed and drunk, matched his unnecessarily angry tone, “Have you fucked the intern?” The question hushed every person around the fireplace, an uneasy tension filled in the air.

Blood rushed to Austin’s face and a vein pulsed in his forehead. He was trying to restrain his anger, squeezing his fists to stave it off. Your own steaming coffee pot was on the verge of overflowing.

Whether it was the tequila or something else that fueled you was unclear but you balled up your own fists, and before you could stop yourself, the words flew out, “I’m not a fucking intern!” You boomed out louder than intended and shooting you straight up on your feet.

Austin rolled his eyes, sharply pushing off from the couch, “I’m fuckin’ outta here.” He scoffed, headed for the doorway.

“Answer the question you fuckin’ pussy!” Called a way too far gone Ryan. “We already know the answer.” He added in a cocky snide.

Any sinister look you’d ever seen on Austin didn’t compare to the one that bore into Ryan. You were surprised his fist wasn’t bashed into his face already, if there weren’t so many witnesses he probably would’ve been pummeled to a mush.

“Let’s get this fucking straight.” He hissed, his eyes locked on Ryan, never once glancing at you, like you weren’t even in the room. “I have never and will never put my hands on such a low budget, low level, filthy whore nobody of an Intern.”

Your jaw nearly hit the floor at his words, a consequential dagger speared right through your intestines. You knew he hated you, he called you insufferable. You knew he hated you, you knew it even after last night, but you never expected him to say such vile words about you. A lump formed in your throat and tears welled in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry there – not in front of all your coworkers, not after being completely and utterly humiliated. Every ounce of alcohol in your bloodstream fueled your stomp over to him and didn’t even realize what you had done until you felt your palm stinging like a bitch from landing on his face. His hand instantly reaching to cover his newly red cheek from your slap, his eyes wide in disbelief, then narrowed with furious realization.

“Fuck you,” You attempted to hide the quiver in your voice, “You fucking rotten, disgusting, repulsive human being.” Your teeth clenched, you knew your little outburst could very well get you fired but there was too much rage and liquor in your body to care.

He did nothing, not a brow raise, not a twist in his face, nothing. Perhaps he’d never had someone talk back to him like that. Without further explanation he just pushed past you, knocking your shoulder back with his weight. The gravity of what just happened settled into your chest, having such a cruel intimate moment in front of all your colleagues was probably the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you. Something you’d never be able to forget, something you could never forgive. Blood rushed to your cheeks as you felt all eyes on you and your heart began to race feeling the purest form of ‘flight’ mode you’d ever had in your life.

When you escaped there was no sign of Austin in sight. You knew he had to have gone back to the room, hopefully to pack his shit and leave. And if he wasn’t then you would, even if you had to beg to stay in someone’s room. All the way up the elevator your heart thumped against your rib cage, shaking out your hands and taking deep breaths mentally preparing yourself for confrontation.

You unlocked the door and found him standing there, looking like he got there just before you did. The anxiety of the confrontation dissipated the moment you laid eyes on his hardened face. “Get out.” You stated harshly, brushing past him yourself mimicking his actions from before.

“Intern there’s nowhere for me to fucking go.” His voice already raised and ready for battle, “I’m not fucking happy about it either but-“

Your brows scrunched together downwards, steam practically pouring from your ears. “You’re a liar! A filthy fucking liar! Get. Out.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not lying-“ He began but his incessant voice was driving you more livid by the minute.

“I know about the fucking vacant room Austin.” You growled, using his name and not Actor to let him know how serious you were. Just from how he opened his mouth to speak you could tell he was about to lie again so you beat him to it. “The front desk lady told me. Tell me Austin, if you hate me so goddamn much then why didn’t you just take the room? To fuck with me? To take me on some stupid drunken adventure to trick me into thinking you actually have a heart?”

He stayed silent, which only made you angrier. You just called him out on his bullshit, and he couldn’t even react. “Actually no, you know what? I’m the fucking liar. Because out there I called you a human being, but you’re too fucked up to be a human, you’re a fucking cockroach – I try to stomp you out but you keep fucking coming back.” When the words left there was an immediate sense of release, everything that had built up in your system spilled out.

“Oh, I’m a cockroach? If I’m such a cockroach, then why do you keep coming back for more huh?” He hissed, his arrogant scrunched face pissed you off even more. He had no right to talk to you like that after what he did. “I didn’t hear you complaining when I was making you cum.” Purposely using jarring sexual defenses to hurt you.

You thought lava was about to start seeping through your skin, what made it worse was that you didn’t have an answer. “Augh!” You grunted, pacing in a short lap, your fingers curling around air. “You are so fucking infuriatingly heartless it’s nauseating!”

He scoffed, “Well, I may be heartless, but you’re fucking naïve.” He snarled. “Naïve to think I would ever actually enjoy your company outside of your body.”

Your jaw dropped, tears pricked your eyes again realizing how senseless you were to have thought he was anything else but the arrogant, cruel man you met that first day on set. The building rage turned your tears into a terrifying laugh, “Oh, my body huh? That’s funny because out there you said you’d never touch me, when in there” Pointing to the back door leading to the hot tub, “You touched me with nothing in return for you. You were the one who wanted to ‘take care of me’, you held me, you called me pretty!” The ending sounding so pathetic, instantly regretting the vulnerability knowing it would be used as ammo.

He cackled, “Oh c’mon Intern you can’t be serious, nobody ever taught you not to believe the things men say when they’re drunk? It didn’t mean anything, I was drunk, I lied.”

The words sliced like blades and every ounce of restraint drained from your body. “You are by far the worst person I’ve ever had the disgrace of knowing. I wish I never fucking met you. If I could go back in time, I would turn down my apprenticeship. My apprenticeship, because I’m not and have never been a fucking intern!” Your voice raised into a yell, “I would throw away my entire career if it meant I could avoid ever crossing paths with you.”

A few moments passed and he was still there, silent and blank. You couldn’t read him at all, if he was angry or sad or insulted. He could’ve easily turned it on you, but he didn’t. He just stared at you.

Everything from the first day on set to the day of the snowstorm, yesterday and everything in between, compounded in your mind. Every insult, every backhanded comment, every accusation replayed in your head. No one had ever made you feel as low and as shitty as he did. The lump from before reclaimed its place in your throat and tears began to pool in your eyes, finally needing real answers. “Why do you treat me like this huh? Why do you say the horrible things you say to me? Call me all the vile names you do? What did I ever fucking do to you?” While you were holding back tears your voice remained furious and combative. “Why do you fucking hate me!”

His brows furrowed and his sharp jaw noticeably clenched, “You’re just fucking infuriating and annoying and it- it just drives me fucking insane!”

“What does! What the fuck do I do that bothers you so fucking much!” You nearly screamed out.

“You- just-“ He was grasping at straws, “No matter how much I try to hate you I fucking can’t!” His words darted from his tongue faster than he had time to process. His widened eyes gave away how much he regretted his slip up.

“W-What?” You stuttered out confused, that being the last thing you expected him to say. The rapid thumping of your heart accelerated, allowing only short breaths and you even felt a little lightheaded. You were overloaded, angry, confused, hurt, heartbroken, embarrassed. The small bit of control you had left was gone and the tears made their full appearance.

The minute he noticed the tears streaming down your face, Austin’s twisted face softened right before your eyes, even softer than the night before. “I-“ He stepped towards you but you immediately winced and recoiled from him.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You cried out wiping the tears from your face in an attempt to halt them.

In true Austin fashion, he didn’t listen, and his hands found your own on your cheeks. In an even stranger turn of events, he leaned down and placed a long kiss on your lips. Then he gently pulled your hands from your face, you looked up at him with watery puzzled eyes. You instinctively smacked his arm to push him away, but his strong arm didn’t budge.

He cupped your cheeks in his hands and placed a tender kiss under each stream of tears. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly after each kiss. Every single action he did was like a twisted turn on rickety rollercoaster ride. He returned to your lips, pressed another kiss followed with, “I’m sorry.” He whispered, an extra pillowy light kiss, “I’m sorry.” He repeated, another kiss, another apology. He trailed his lips down to just below your ear, stamping additional kiss there, “I’m sorry.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he pressed another sloppy kiss below your ear, “I’m sorry.” No matter how furious you were didn’t stop the butterflies in your tummy. A longer, sloppier kiss further down your neck with a raspy, “I’m sorry.” Sent a buzzing through your chest and directly to your hips.

Maybe it was the same for you, no matter what horrible things he did or said to you, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself you hated him, you couldn’t. Maybe you were just as fucked up as he was.

“I’m sorry, let me show you how much.” He muttered against your skin, his fingers delicately smoothing down your sides like he was plucking a harp.

The shift from abhorrent to sweet gave you whiplash, not knowing which one was genuine. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing any tears out, the salty liquid dripping off your chin. “Austin, I can’t.” You breathed out, the panic attack-like heaving never left. “Austin, you literally just humiliated me in front of everyone. You called me a filthy whore nobody, in front of everyone.” Reluctantly pulling from his grasp. His once venomous eyes now soft and apologetic, but that’s exactly what he did wasn’t it? He’d wrap you back in his hold like prey, constrict you until you were blue in the face, still hypnotizing you with snake eyes. You were a rat and he a cobra trapped in a 10 gallon tank, and he was still convincing you that he wasn’t trying to consume you whole. “I just can’t. I just- I respect myself too much. And I need you to go. I need to be alone.”

He stepped towards you once more, his fingertips ran down the back of your arms reaching your hands, taking them tenderly into his. “I’m so sorry y/n. I won’t do it again. I promise.” He bargained in a tone so quiet you’d think he was paranoid of people hearing him from behind the walls. “I’ll never talk like that ever, ever again.”

“Austin, I don’t know what you want from me.” You slipped from his hands, “But there won’t be another ‘again’. You were right the other day on set, this shouldn’t have happened.” Your voice cracked, “I need you to leave. Now.”

His look faltered, a look you’d only ever seen on the faces of defeated Olympians. “Okay.” He said lowly, stepping forward and cupping your face then pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His misty blue eyes looked down at you, “If you ever wanna cash in that apology, you know where to find me.”

Without another word he gathered his things and left to find the other room. The minute he was out the door, every emotion you had suppressed from the event took over. You doubled over gripping onto your stomach as you heaved, rivers of tears pouring from your eyes. Tight twists and knots wrapped around your abdomen, constricting you like the snake he was.

You stumbled to the bed and fell in it, wrapping the sheets around you and like a 15-year-old with their first heartbreak, you wailed into the pillow. You never felt so worthless, so pathetic, so stupid. You were so fucking stupid for letting him slither his way into you the way he did. How could anyone talk about someone like that? Someone who just last night was so sweet and gentle with you. Someone who said they didn’t mean any of it but then wanted to apologize so tenderly?

It made you sick to think how you let such evil into your body. You weren’t even able to say that you missed the red flags, you didn’t, you saw them clearly and raced past them. He showed you exactly who he was, and still let yourself believe he was something he wasn’t.

Yeah, your house was now haunted, but you were the one who invited the demon in.

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author notes:

thank you all SO much for all the love and support on this story, it has truly been overwhelming. i know my numbers aren't as big as others but they're big to me - appreciate EVERY comment, message, ask, etc. i love you guys so much - i never expected this fic to get that much attention so again, thank you xx

if you enjoyed this story/my writing pls consider giving my main fic, Forever Winter, a read - if you like angsty sad smutty you’ll probably like it lol

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watcher-with-burned-wings · 2 months

Text

Wake Me Up, Let This Be A Dream

(A twist on session 7 of Secret Life)

Years have passed since the beginning of the end. It had all started with mythical creatures appearing out of thin air. Manticores and griffins appeared in the forests. Selkies, sirens, and sea monsters ruled the seas. Unicorns appeared along with other mythical animals, but these myths were not the downfall of humanity. Among these creatures, giants resided, ruling above every other creature.

The monstrous humanoids started decimating the human population. At first, few people were killed, as not many giants existed. As giants multiplied, whole communities seemed to disappear after a few giants had passed through the area. Anyone's guess was whether they were eaten, crushed, or disappeared. Countries were falling quickly as the populations were decimated. Granted, giants were still few compared to humans by the time the human population was nearly extinct.

The governments of the world had tried to destroy them with military power, but the most powerful creatures were immune to the bullets and bombs. Any attempt failed, only making the mythical beasts more aggressive. Soon all the remaining governments fell into the hands of giants. They were the rulers of the world now.

When the world first ended, many giants were feral, consuming whole cities of people and destroying everything in their path. But this was short-lived, many gained sense and started communicating and talking with humans. Only a few retained the feral mindset. Some even tried to compromise with the world's governments before resorting to destroying them after the attacks. Many giants decided to settle in small groups and built large houses to live with one another. Many of these groups were secluded to only their members but used trained griffins to send messages to other groups. Soon small societies popped up as giants began bartering and trading for essentials with other groups.

With the new species appearing, the natural world changed around as well. All trees now stood as tall as the great redwoods and continued to grow taller. Besides trees, plants became larger as well. Cites were quickly being overgrown by these new exotic plants. New magical rocks also appear to spring up in canyons and bluffs. Fresh water became scarce and hard to come by with the new creatures. Weather patterns have changed as well. Summer has heated up to exceptional levels. Winter temperatures have plummeted deep into the negatives. Fall and Spring can change instantly from warm sunny days to bone-chilling, frostbiting days. With all the odds stacked against them, nearly all humans have gone extinct, with a few exceptions…

=============

A blue-haired human male dashed through the large colorful leaves and bushes, hopping over log-sized twigs that fell from the large tree around him. His blue jacket wrapped tightly around his waist, leaving him in a once-white tee shirt with a blue heart. His jeans were dirty and ripped in several places. In his arms, he carried large bird feathers. An aggravated screech sounded from behind closed him. A creature with an eagle’s head and a lion's body bound through the foliage. Large, feathered wings propelled the creature forward, but the monster was missing several feathers, making it hard to fly. The guy didn’t even look back as he bolted towards his goal.

Anger chirps and caws continued to chase down the human. The human continued dodging and ducking swipes the massive paws of the exotic beast delivered. Leading the creature down towards a seemingly dead end, trapped between a couple of saplings and a large, towering boulder. The human spun around to face the angered lionbird. Slowly, it prowled forward, claws flexing as it backed the blue-haired guy into the rock. Just as the creature pounced, the human dived into a small hole dug between the roots of one of the saplings. The guy shouted as he dove, “Now Grian!”

A red sweater-wearing sandy-blond haired man sprang from the top of the rock, holding a crossbow loaded with purple stone-tipped arrows. Firing the arrow, he hit the beast mid-air in the back leg. The fabled icon cried out in fury and pain as electric poison sunk into its body, causing it to bite at the arrow and favor its back leg.

The new human called out, “Cleo it’s poisoned! You can go for the kill!” He shouted.

A red-haired, green-skinned woman with a black stone sword dropped out of the branches of one of the trees, landing square on the creature's back. She used the momentum of the fall to stab the sword deep into the neck of the griffin. The creature screamed as she pulled the sword through its neck and she slid off the side, pulling the blade down with her. She pulled the sword out of the griffin as the wound bubbled and spread. The griffin fell dead a few seconds later due to the poison and wither coursing through its body and the neck wound.

Cleo sheathed her blade and called out, “Scott! You good?”

Said person pulled himself from the hole, brushing himself off, grumbling, “Next time I’m shooting the shot with my bow and Grian is baiting.” He shoved his feathers he grabbed into his backpack and then pulled out a knife. He started removing the feathers of the griffin’s wing.

Having just slid down from the boulder, Grian squawked in offense. “Hey! I hit it, didn’t I? You should have said something sooner!” He put his hands on his hips. “And you need to be bait Scott, you’re the only one fast enough to outrun those things.” Scott rolled his eyes and grumpily plucked the griffin.

Cleo chimed in as she knelt to assist Scott. “I kinda agree with Scott, Grian.” A smirk played on her lips. “He is a better quick shot than you.” Grian made an offended noise. “But you are right, you are the only one who can outrun them, Scott.” Cleo pointed out.

Scott sighed, “I know but I’m tired of fighting to survive every day.” He gathers up the feathers and turns to his friends' worried expressions. He quickly amends. “I want to live, not just survive. For the last few years, it has been a struggle to stay warm during winter and find food. We were lucky to discover that the new stones made killing these things easy.” He gestures to the dead griffin. He slips on his hoodie and picks up his full pack. Then he began walking towards their home.

Cleo mimicked his actions, throwing on her pack filled with feathers and falling in step with him. “I know we aren’t living a glamorous life like you are used to, but we are alive.” The women comforted him. “After those berries that turned me green, we were glad to be alive. So, let’s be grateful for what we have.” She suggested.

Scott sighed defeated, “You’re right Cleo. Thank you.” He said with a smile.

“Hey! You guys left me!” Grian squawked as he ran up to them, carrying a bunch of fur. The duo looked over at their short friend and giggled a bit.

“Sorry, G. Didn’t mean to, it just got in my head.” Scott apologized as they headed towards their current base.

Together, they walked in relative silence. Occasionally, they will discuss what other preparations they need to get or set up before winter sets in. Taking care to avoid predators, they arrived at their setup at sunset. Even though it would have been an hour’s walk, Scott and Cleo were not taking any chances to be caught by surprise. Whenever they saw something out of place, they hid beneath roots, behind rocks, or under large leaves.

Their camp was built beneath the roots of one of the many large trees. The roots were tightly woven together making a great defense to keep out predators. There were gaps between the roots allowing entrance from all angles. This was perfect whenever they were chased down by something that could kill them. The gaps allowed sunlight to seep in during the days which was a bonus.

Scott slipped into the knitted roots, followed closely by Grian and Cleo. Inside, a fire pit was dug out in the center, and embers glowed faintly from an early morning fire. A cooking pot rested beside them; remains of breakfast were evident in the pot. Encircling the fire pit were their three sleeping bags and a miscellaneous survival bag. Preserved food, water bottles, and first aid supplies filled the bag in case of an emergency. A pile of twigs, the size of logs to them, were gathered in the corner of the heaven. Overall, a safe place to live. But life in an apocalyptical world is never that simple.

After he set his pack down, Scott walked over to the embers, stoking them with a stick, and blew on them to reignite the flames. Mimicking Scott, Cleo sets her bag down and grabs two branches. She brought them over to the fire pit as Scott got a small flame going. While the other two were working with the fire, Grian gathered the material they collected from the griffin and got to work on crafting gear to withstand the winter chill.

The blond started by using the fur he collected. He had enough fur to craft mittens and boots. He used fabled spider thread to stitch it together, and as treads, he used exotic mushroom bits that were comfortable and similar to rubber, so it was waterproof. Next, he moved to creating cloaks. He retrieved the feathers out of Cleo’s and Scott’s bag and laid them out into three groups. Each group is going to be turned into a cloak. He grabbed more spider strings and began stitching them together. Griffin feathers were perfect for cloaks because they were insulating and waterproof.

Once the fire was going, Scott grabbed some ingredients from their food rations and began cooking dinner. He decided to grab some dried boar meat, strange purple peas, green carrots, and light blue leaves that felt frosty to the touch. He grabbed a water bottle after a last-minute thought. He grabbed the pot and poured some of the water in, rubbing the remains of their breakfast into the water to clean it somewhat, and then poured it out. He set the, now clean, pot in the fire, then placed the rest of the water in the pot and tossed in the other ingredients.

While Scott cooked dinner and Grian made the winter gear, Cleo brought up some important topics while taking inventory of their weapons and sharpening them.

She was wiping off her sword with a leaf when she inquired, “We all agree we can’t stay here for the winter, correct?”

Scott hummed as he stirred the stew he was making. “Agreed. The ground will soon freeze here, leaving us vulnerable to hypothermia even with our sleeping bags and gear. It would be better if we could find a tree hole like last year.” Grian piped in.

“Nah, I nearly slipped off the icy bark multiple times.” Pulling his makeshift wooden needle through another stitch, he added, “Though I agree we need to leave. We’re gonna get snowed in here. Plus, there isn’t water for a good two hours from here. We can’t be making that trip constantly.”

Cleo nodded, now sharpening the clean sword. “So what direction are we heading? We can’t go North again. It’s much too dangerous with all the yeti that come from hibernation.” She remembered, causing a shiver to go down the two guys' spines. Both will never forget the near-death encounter with one of their first year.

Grian frowned as he looked up. “We can’t head west either.” The blue-haired male and redhead looked at the blond confused. He explains, “On the news, I remember them saying tar pits have appeared in that direction. I know it’s been ages, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

Scott nodded in agreement. “So southeast it is.” He stated the others agreed with him. “We’ll head out in the morning. We don’t have much time before winter.” He took the soup off the fire, filled three bowls, and passed them out.

They ate in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company. They were quite a rag-tag group of people. An architect, rockstar, and teacher. All very different, but all survivors. After dinner, Scott cleaned up and packed while Cleo prepared their weapons. Grian added the finishing touches to the cloaks. Then all of them settled into their sleeping bags to sleep.

The trio headed southeast early the next morning as the sun rose above the horizon. Scott shouldered his pack, the pot tied onto it as well. His new cloak was tightly wrapped around his shoulders, the morning chill nipping at the bare skin of his face. Grian trailed beside him, heaving along his pack and the emergency bag. His face was half hidden in the collar of his sweater, holding his cloak tightly to his chest to keep it closed. Cleo took charge, leading the way. On her person, she carried her pack along with extra weapons.

They traveled for nearly two days before they found something interesting. As they headed in their chosen direction, the large forestry began to thin out. What was even odder was that more hostile creatures seemed to thin out as well. Realizing this, the group exchanged glances before continuing onwards. With every step they took, everything began to paint a picture. A large imprint in the dirt, crushed bushes, and tree stumps without a tree present. Flattened bushes and grass seemed to become normal the farther south they when.

Scott was getting bad vibes from the area. He admitted his reluctance to continue going forward with the group. Both Grian and Cleo agreed, but Grian pointed out they didn’t have much of a choice. Winter was coming too fast, and they couldn’t backtrack. They were running low on water and food. Going back would only spell trouble for them. Scott agreed with Grian’s assessment of the issue, so they all continued, but with caution.

The feeling didn’t leave Scott if only increased as they traveled.

It was one of the coldest days of the year when the trio stumbled upon a large wooden wall. They all cautiously advanced towards the structure, not sure what to make of it. On closer inspection, the wall was made of large planks, identical to the wooden fence humans had in their backyards. There was a human-sized hole in one of the nearby planks.

Cleo turned to them, “I’m going in.” Grian quickly grabbed her arm.

“Like you are! We don’t even know what's behind there!” He viciously argued. “It blocked off for a reason.” Cleo spit back.

“But what choice do we have? We can’t go back! If only one of us goes in, the other two can escape.” While Cleo and Grian had a heated discussion, Scott snuck over to the hole.

Crouching down, Scott peeked into the crack, not prepared for what he saw. A house. A ginormous house stood looming over him. He stumbled back in awe and shock, falling onto his butt. Finally, Cleo and Grian took notice and rushed over to him.

“Scott! Are you okay!? What happened? What did you see?” Cleo fretted over him, double-checking him for injuries, as he was the youngest of the group. The red sweater-wearing mischief maker nodded in agreement.

“I-I-” Scott stuttered for a moment as he collected himself, “It was a house. A…a very large house…” Cleo raised an eyebrow with confusion.

“A house? What do you mean Scott? Explain.” She demanded him, picking him up from the floor. Grian stood back, giving the younger boy a stern look.

Swallowing hard, Scott tried to explain. “I think could be a giant den, but it looks just like a normal human house!” Scott grabbed both of his companions’ hands and dragged him over to the niche in the fence. “It’s easier to show than explain.”

They all crouched, the blue-haired boy doing it first, his friends mimicking him quickly. Grian gasped and laughed in disbelief. Cleo muttered a quiet, “No way…”

The house itself was more of a cottage. It was quite small, and the siding was wooden but had some technological advances. The roof was constructed out of stone and wood with a chimney coming out of it. The whole house was painted dark, almost black, purple, and grey, giving a sharp contrast to the bright pink and red of the garden that sat nestled in the space between the fence and the house.

A bright pink brick path cut through the garden, with red bricks outlining it. Garden beds were sectioned out, the path acting as a barrier. Many plants had blackened and withered; colored leaves scattered around their bases, branches barren. There were a few exemptions, a still-green pine-like bush, and a few stubborn flowers.

Standing up, Scott crawled through the gap, tossing his bag through first. Cleo and Grian grabbed him by the ankles. “What do you think you're doing!? Are you nuts!?” Cleo shrieked.

“You can’t possibly be thinking of us going in there, do you?” Grian added, a bit frantic.

Scott kicked away their hands and asked, “What choice do we have? We either go through here to continue our journey,” Scott looks back over his shoulder with a grin, “Or we are set for winter, living off the giants.” Cleo and Grian shared a nervous look before letting the younger boy go.

Scott finished climbing through a brushed himself off, glancing back to see Cleo making the trip next. Grian commented, “I hope you are sure about this Scott.” He quickly army crawled through once Cleo got out.

Scott nodded. “I am sure. We can check it out, if we think it's too dangerous, we can grab some food and water then leave.” He explained his logic.

Cleo slowly nodded, “I see. That makes sense. Giants need mountains of food to survive so it’s only inevitable for them to have food lying around.”

Grian added, “And gallons of water somewhere. Which we need desperately.”

Scott grinned, “Plus, think of how warm it will be?” He pulled his cloak tighter around his body. “The giants will have fires or something to keep their house warm, in turn, we will be warm.”

Cleo sighs, defeated. “Fine. We’ll check it out,” She stressed, “But! If there is any sign of danger, we are leaving.”

Both guys silently celebrated, then picked up their packs, heading into the looming shriveled-up dead plants of the flower bed. Cleo sighed and shook her head, following the two numbskulls to prevent them from causing any trouble.

=============================

Traveling through the garden was uneventful except for a close call with a sphinx. The trio hid underneath a few loose leaves and waited for it to pass before continuing onto the house. When they reached the side of the house, they quickly discovered a hole in the siding, leading underneath the house. From there, they managed to shimmy up a pipe, cross a support beam, and avoid live red stone wires using some skilled parkour and teamwork to get into the wall of the house.

Cleo and Scott gave one last tug, helping Grian up through the clean-cut hole where the wires lead into and spread throughout the house. The three of them glance around, pausing momentarily to get their bearings. Before they could leave, the vibration of giant footsteps shook the wall they inhabited. Cleo instinctually crouched down, seeming to be getting ready to spring into action at the drop of a hat. Grian froze like a deer in headlights, looking like he was about to leap back down the hole they just arrived through. Scott felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest, trying to leap out of his chest. He held his breath, stiff as a board till the footsteps faded away. The group collectively breathed a sigh of relief. They quickly gathered their stuff and scurried in the opposite direction of the footsteps.

After traversing the walls, they finally settled into a corridor that seemed to have a lesser giant presence. Grian heavily flopped onto the floor next to his pack, going limp against the board acting as the floor, grumbling, “I hope this was worth it. I’m exhausted and sore.”

Scott looked up at him from digging around in his pack and tried to reassure him. “It’ll get better from here on out. It was just a pain to get in here.” He pulled out his sleeping bag and laid it out on the floor. “We won’t have to move anymore so we can make a proper bed at some point. And once we get a layout of the house, we can find a better space to call home.”

Cleo viciously shushed them, whisper-shouting. “Keep your voice down you two, we don’t want to alert the giants to our position.” She warily eyed the walls around them, like a giant would burst through any second. Scott rolled his eyes but lowered his voice.

“Tomorrow we will explore deeper into the interior of the house, find a water source, and get more food rations. Those are our top priorities.” He pulled out the meager food rations they had left and passed them around to the two. Grian sat up from his sprawled-out position, accepting the food and plan without any comments.

Cleo took the food before hesitantly questioning, “What if one of us gets caught by a giant? Then what?”

The question honestly catches Scott off guard. He always knew it was a possibility in the back of his mind, but he never planned for it to happen to any of them. The blue-haired male pressed his lips together as he contemplated the answer. Logically, it would be best for the others to escape while they had the chance. But Scott knew deep down neither of them would abandon each other.

He sighs heavily, “Look Cleo, we both know the logical answer, but we also know that we won’t follow through with it.” He gives her a tired smile, feeling Grian observing the conversation silently. “It’s been a long day. Let’s sleep on it and we can discuss it in the morning.”

The redhead huffed but gave an equally tired smile. “Fine, okay yeah. We’ll figure this out when were aren’t dead on our feet and our brains are mush.” The rest of the night they spent in heavy silence.

The small red-sweater fiend fell asleep first, snuggled deep into his sleeping bag, snoring softly. Cleo was quick to follow, her arms tucked under her chin as she lay on her stomach, passed out cold, drool dripping down her chin. The only one still awake was Scott. He tossed and turned for hours, Cleo’s question echoing through his mind. With a frustrated sigh, he got up from his sleeping bag.

The ex-rockstar went to his pack, changing his shirt and slipping on his favorite jean jacket. Then he grabbed his bow and quiver, glancing over to the other two frequently in case they get woken up. As he was about to stand up, he decided to grab his knife as a precaution. He stood up, making a silent promise that he was just going to go on a quick walk and then be right back.

With a light bounce in his step, Scott set off down the corridor toward where most of the noise seemed to be coming from. Going on walks or runs always cleared his head if he had trouble sleeping. This would be no different.

The beginning of the corridor was normal, dark, empty, and chilly. He still was alert in case, but it didn’t seem like anything was there. As he went deeper, he noticed there was a soft glow emitting from farther down the hallway, as well as warmth coming from the source. He bit the inside of his cheek, debating if he should check it out or not. Knowing it was stupid, he continued onward.

As he approached the light, the wall warmed up, making Scott melt slightly. The heat felt good against his icy skin. Along with the heat, he could hear faint murmurs getting louder, causing him to slow his pace down and be more careful. The murmurs soon turned into voices, that turned into loud booming voices. Soon he recognized that he was heading toward where the inhabitants of the house were. The closer he got, the lighter his footsteps got. He turned the corner to where the heat and light were the brightest. He was relieved that the way was empty, but he did find a crack in the wall.

Now that he was close enough, he could understand what the giants were saying. Mindful not to make a sound, the blue-haired boy crept closer to the hole in the wall. He crouched down, kneeling beside the opening, preparing himself. He peered out and made an audible gasp at what he saw.

From his position, Scott could tell it was a living room area. A large yellow couch sat in the center of the room in front of the cobblestone fireplace, which had a nice large blazing fire in it, heating the surroundings. The walls were decorated with shelves of pants and paintings. On each end of the couch, lamps powered by red stone sat. A bookshelf filled with books was pressed into one corner of the room. But none of those things caught Scott’s attention.

It was the giants themselves. Two giants sat on the couch, chatting to one another. One seemed to be female and the other male.

The female sat facing towards the wall where Scott was hiding. She had reddish-orange braided hair, with mismatching-colored eyes. One a dark green, the other a bright red. A pair of deer ears and antlers sprung from her head as well. He was wearing a red T-shirt and black overalls. The man sitting beside her laughed at something she said, allowing Scott to see his face.

The guy had a yellow mark, like a scar around one of his reddish-brown eyes. In his brown hair, two yellow demon horns poked out as he moved his head. Glancing at him more, the small human notices a demon tail lazily swaying near the floor. Black spiked bracelets were on both his wrists, as well as a black sleeveless leather jacket resting on him, and a shirt with a yellow “i” underneath it.

Scrambling back, Scott couldn’t believe his eyes. His back hit the other wall harshly, but he couldn’t care less as he tried to get his breathing under control. Tears threatened his eyes as he closed his eyes, his heartbeat deafening in his ears. He grabbed his pants to ground himself. ‘No, no.’ He thinks to himself. ‘Those can’t be them. Gem and Impulse died the day the outbreak happened.’

Covering his mouth, Scott opened his eyes, trying to muffle his sobs, eyes locked to the grainy wooden broad. His body trembled as he remembered it. He wished he could have been there for his bandmates. Movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention. His eyes widened in terror as he noticed Gem look-alike moved slightly to the left…and was certainly looking directly at him.

The teal-haired human scrambled backward, away from the hole, away from the imposters. He clambered to his legs and booked it down the dark corridor. Hot fat tears dripped down his chin as ran, calling himself a coward for not protecting his old friends, practically family. The survivor bumped into several walls; his vision blurred from the water in his eyes. He hardly noticed the chill growing as he ran.

He finally slowed down when the tears slowed down, and his cheeks were icy from the cold in the air. Wiping his eyes and then closing them, he took a very deep breath, to calm his racing heart. Once his heart was beating normally, Scott opened his eyes and headed back to Cleo and Grian, convincing himself that he was just tired and imagining his friends.

When he reached the small camp they had, Scott put his bow gear away then his knife. After putting his gear away, he climbed into his sleeping bag. He glanced at his current friends. Both Grian and Cleo were knocked out cold. Grian was still snoring away, and Cleo had rolled onto her side. He watched his friends sleeping peacefully before relaxing, deciding that he should just focus on the present instead of the past.

With that, Scott got comfortable and drifted off into a deep sleep.

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During a temporary intermission, Scott stepped out from backstage onto the street for a quick breather. Brushing his hand through his hair, stressing over the night’s events. Gem collapsed suddenly during their last song. Impulse had caught her before her head could hit the floor. They called an intermission even though Gem had woken up a few moments after she passed out, claiming she was fine.

Due to Impulse’s and Scott’s insistence, they got a venue nurse to check her out. Impulse noticed Scott was stressing out by pacing around, so he told the guitar player to go take a breather to calm down. Reluctantly, he listened to the drummer but had him promise to tell him what the doctor said. Said drummer grinned, nodded then shoved him out the door, telling him that everything would be alright.

So here he was now, standing outside a backstage door on the unusually warm September night. Sighing, he headed down the street, pulling up the hood of his blue zip-up hoodie to avoid attention. Drunk concertgoers stumbled out of the bar, laughing, and giggling around him as headed down the street. His original plan was to walk around the block and return backstage to check on Gem.

His walk was doing its job as he slowly started to calm down after turning the first corner. He started to think more rationally now that he was calmer and could face the diagnosis. Turning the corner to the street that would lead him back to the concert, he was met by a gaggle of girls, who recognized him. Resigning himself to his fate, he pulled out a pen and started signing autographs.

Once the girls were taken care of, he made his way back to the alleyway. As he was about to enter backstage, the guitar player was startled by the sounds cracking around him. He spotted cracks growing up the side of the monstrous building. He couldn’t get a clear view from where he stood, but a noticeable dent in the domed roof had started to bugle out. He backpedaled away, knowing he was in a dangerous position, Scott ran for the alley exit.

With a loud crash, debris came raining down from the once-pristine concert hall. The cyanette made it out of the alley just in time as the concert hall's walls collapsed. Dust and screams filled the surrounding area. He spun around, trying to see what was happening, shielding his eyes from the cloud of debris threatening to blind him.

Coughing harshly, Scott stumbled out of the dust cloud, using his shirt as a mask as he guided other blinded spectators. Once on a clear street, he glanced back towards the concert hall. A sudden terror stuck through him as he spotted something out of a fairy tale. A monstrous giant was standing in the middle of the venue where he and his friends were just playing minutes ago.

The back was facing Scott, a wave of messy hair trailed down the back and it had something growing from its head. He couldn’t get a good look at the giant before more chaos broke out. The survivors of the building collapse sprinted out of the rubble, covered in dust and dirt.

Realization struck Scott like a lightning bolt. Gem and Impulse. They were still in there. They could be trapped under the rubble. The first instinct he had was to run back to get Gem and Impulse. He started running towards the venue as people ran away from the giant. Before he had a chance to go farther, a female police officer snagged his shoulder dragging him away as he kicked and fought.

Just as Scott was getting desperate, another giant grew from the rubble. This one grew into a sitting position. Taking advantage of the rock star’s momentary shock, the officer dragged him farther away, pulling him toward the subway tunnels. From there, she ushered him towards a group large group of people who were all survivors of the incident.

She then explained that they would be evacuated when the next train came, this being the fastest and safest way to get them all out without issues. The guitar player tuned her out, staring at the stairs, hoping that any minute his friends would be carried or come walking down them. Many people whispered and murmured, clearly anxious about the situation.

Suddenly the whole station shook, and the fluorescent lights swayed from where they were hung. The officer quickly grabbed her radio, pressing it up to her mouth. The station shook again, some dust falling from the ceiling, making the crowd cry out in fear. The cyanette flinched as a thunderous thump came from above them. She informed the crowd that the giants were on the move.

She looked grim and panicked as she shouted over another footstep that the two were heading towards the station. The cries of the terrified people echoed off the walls of the subway station. Scott’s blood felt like ice in his veins as he felt the ground shake harder, all the oxygen was stuck out of his lungs as panic consumed him.

A cheer and the screeching of wheels knocked him out of the all-consuming panic that overcame him. The subway train pulled into the station, opening all its doors. The crowd quickly swarmed into the small tram. The officer tried to do crowd control, but everyone was in a panic. Scott kept looking over to the stairs, and then to the train. Biting the bullet and praying to Aeor, the teal-haired boy slipped up the stairwell, ignoring the call of the officer, leading to the ground level. The ground around him shook with the weight of the giant as it came closer.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he was met with a startling sight. Buildings were toppled and cars were wrecked. In front of him, the giants were walking together, taking off building tops, seeming looking for something. One of the giants spotted him, making him step backward. His foot slipped on a step, making him fall down the stairs partly.

He groaned, pain echoing through his body. Thunderous hurried footsteps pounded toward him, causing him to force himself up. A loud creaking sound caught Scott’s attention as he glanced up. A part of the office building above him broke off and hurled towards him. He covered his head with his arms and then blacked out. But before, he swore he heard Gem call out his name…

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

Scott jolted up in his sleeping bag with a gasp, looking around frantically before realizing where he was. He grabbed his chest, doing quiet breathing exercises before he relaxed fully. Once calmed down, he noted that Cleo and Grian were already up. They both were looking at him with concern from where they stood.

Cleo was the first to speak, “Scott bud, you good?” Her voice echoed the worry in her body language. All he could do was nod as he stood up stiffly. He moved around robotically. She paused in stuffing her pack.

Grian huffed, “Scott, we all know you are not okay. So what’s wrong?” Scott scowled, hating that Grian could see through him. He packed in silence for a few more minutes while his friends patiently waited for him to respond.

He finally sighed, “It was just a memory.” he said softly. “The day the apocalypse started; my bandmates were in the concert hall when it started.” He viewed Cleo’s and Grian's reactions. Cleo looked sympathetic told him and murmured, “Oh Scott…”

Grian had a similar expression. The ex-rockstar simply shook his head. “It’s in the past, no need for sympathy. We all lost someone so it's water under the bridge.” He hefted the pack onto his shoulder. Grian and Cleo shared a concerned look before looking back at him.

Cleo spoke up, “We are here if you ever need to talk Scott, death isn’t something that can be taken lightly.” She walked over and gently patted his shoulder. “We got your back bud.”

Grian came up onto his other side and nodded. “Yeah, if you wanna talk, we're here to listen.” Scott scoffed at them but smiled slightly at their comfort.

“Thank guys, I appreciate it.” He gives each of them a quick hug before stepping back. “Now let's get going, we need to find water and food.” He turns around before they can respond, heading down the path from the night before.

The others quickly caught up to him. The three of them chatted quietly as they walked through the wooden corridors. The farther they traveled, the quieter they became till they were silent. The sound of creatures moving became clearer as they headed towards the giant's living quarters. As Scott examined the walls around them, he realized that they were closing in on where he was spotted last night.

A pit of dread grew in the cyanette’s stomach as the hole from last night seemed bigger last night. Grian slowly approached and grimaced as he stepped in something sticky. He pulled his foot out easily, making Scott breathe a sigh of relief. The dirty blond walked across the sticky spot without trouble. Cloe followed next, then Scott. He glanced out of the hole but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

Traveling deeper into the house, they soon smelled something delicious. They all perked up as they knew they were getting closer to the kitchen. Grian blushed as his stomach rumbled loudly, making Scott and Cleo silently chuckle. With a pep in their step, they sped up, knowing they were close to their goal.

The voices of the giants became clear and loud, letting them know they were in the right place. The trio slowed their pace. Grian looked nervous and anxious. Cleo looked determined, pressing her lips into a thin line. Scott’s blood rushed through his ears, but he felt an odd calm flood his system. He pressed his ear against the wall, curious what the giants were talking about.

“Are you even sure this is gonna work?” A feminine voice asked, skepticism in her voice. A masculine voice replied, “Of course! I made it, didn’t I?” A smug voice answered. “You say that now.” The female voice countered as she seemingly left the room as her voice got farther away.

Scott felt the tension leave his shoulders as the male voice gets farther away as well. He turns to his found family and whispers, “They left, we’re in the clear.” Cloe nodded but said, “Still we need to find a way in and out quickly because we don’t know how long.” Scott nodded in agreement. Grian frowned a bit but nodded as well.

They explored more of the wall, getting increasingly nervous when they thought they found a loose board, but it was glued over or something was blocking the entrance. It was later in the day when they finally found a perfectly round hole in the wall, looking like it was drilled. Cleo was hesitant to use it, but when Scott’s and Grian’s stomachs groaned, along with her own, she relented.

Grian peeked out first, not seeing anything unusual, he ushered for Cleo and Scott. When Scott stepped out, the breath was knocked out of him. The kitchen around them was so large but beautiful. Flowers were painted along the cabinets; pink trim gave life to the bland wooden counters. A black and white checker floor covered the area below them. But what caught his attention was the paintings hung on the walls. They were landscape paintings, of a beach, a meadow, and a forest. He shook his head, to stop getting distracted.

Looking over, Cleo and Grian seemed to be in awe as well, except they were looking at something else. The guitar player’s jaw dropped as they spotted what they were staring at. On the counter, a large cake sat. Drool pooled in Scott’s mouth as it was decorated with berries and white and pink frosting. Swallowing, Scott also noticed a fruit bowl next to the cake.

Grian took a step towards the cake before Cleo grabbed his shoulder. She whispered to him furiously, “We can’t. It’ll be too noticeable.” Grian whispered back, “Come on, one berry.” He begged. Cleo brazenly shook her head. “No. Too dangerous.” Scott couldn’t help but agree with Cloe’s sentiment.

“The fruit bowl could be good.” He points it out. Cleo looked over to Scott and nodded. “Yeah, that seems more reasonable.” Grian crossed his arms but reluctantly agreed. Scott headed towards the fruit bowl, having to walk around the edge of the cake. Cleo and Grian followed behind him.

They all froze as a quiet click was heard. Scott glanced around trying to find the sort of noise. It was only when he looked down, he realized he had stepped on a mechanical button. He felt the blood drain from his face as he hopped off in a panic, turning to his friends.

“Run! It’s a-“He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as his feet are suddenly pulled out from under him, making him yelp. Two more cries follow as well. He felt himself get pulled unwillingly to a metal circle, his friends joining him shortly after. He looked down at his shoes, his eyes widening in panic. They were coated in metal flakes, making them magnetized.

Realization hit Scott, the sticky stuff. It was glue. And they walked through it. And it was filled with these metal flakes. Cloe was trying to pull herself off the magnet, while Grian struggled violently. Scott began trying to get his shoes off to escape but giant footsteps made his blood go cold.

Scott’s breathing picked up as the Impulse-looking one entered the kitchen and cheered loudly, making all the humans flinch harshly. “Gem! I caught him! And two others.” Scott covered his ears with the loud voice, tears threatening to escape his eyes. It’s not them. It can’t be.

His breathing picked up as the giant came closer to them. His struggles got more desperate to get his shoes off. A scream rang through his ears, and it took him a moment to realize that it came from him as Impulse-look alike reached for him. The horned giant seemed taken aback by his sudden cry, pausing in his advances. His friends were shouting and yelling at the giant to leave him alone.

The Gem-look-alike came into the room. She walked over and frowned then scolded the horned giant. “You idiot, you’re scaring him. Don’t just try to grab him.” She crouched down and in a very soft voice, “Hey there Scott, can you count to five for me?” The ex-guitarist couldn’t help but close his eyes and picture Gem holding his hand, rubbing circles on his back as he calmed down from a panic attack. He quietly counted to five, taking deep breaths as he did.

Opening his eyes again, he was considerably calmer, but his heart rate spiked as he saw the giant smiling down at him. “There you go. It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you.” She reassured them. Cleo spit. “Yeah right! And how do you know Scott? Let him alone!” Cloe struggled hard.

Scott croaked, “You can’t be them. They died the day of the outbreak.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he lay on his back, trapped. Both his friends and giants looked at him. The deer giant frowned, “Oh Scott, no. I am Gem and that still is Impulse. We just look a little different and bigger.” Gem tried soothing Scott by touching him.

He flinched away from the large hand, sobbing, “Let us go then, please.” He begged, adrenaline and fear blocking out the hunger and thirst he felt. “Please Gem.” Both Gem and Impulse shared an uneasy look before Gem sadly shook her head.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t in good conscious.” She said softly, making Scott’s throat close with terror. “You three look like you are about to drop dead in a day. You are all so skinny and it’s scary.” She explained, as Impulse carried in a fish tank-looking thing but built for a human.

Scott didn’t have it in him to shout or yell as she gently pried him off the magnet and placed him into the tank. She did this with Grian and Cleo as well. Grian shrieked and tried to bite her as she picked him up. Cleo glared but didn’t do much, not wanting to cause them to get angry.

Gem looked at them sadly. “This will be only temporary.” She comforted. “We just need to humanify the house and get you guys healthy.” Scott glared at her through tear-filled eyes, through gritted teeth he mutters, “I hate you. I hate both of you. You are not them.” Shock then hurt filled Gem’s eye but she replied, “You know you don’t, you just need to get used to us like this.”

Impulse looked hurt as well as he added, “I’m sorry for scaring you all. But it’s true, this is only temporary. I hope you’ll trust us soon as well.” He carried the enclosure over to a table and placed it down gently. The walking made the humans flinch harshly. Impulse apologized softly then turned away. Impulse and Gem left the room after that, saying that they were giving them space to adjust.

Scott bushed his hand through the plush carpet bottom of the tank, glaring at it like it had wronged him. He immediately took off his shoes and chucked them at the glass around them with a frustrated cry. He watched them bounce off the glass onto the floor. He wiped his eyes and examined their temporary home.

There was a little kitchen area in one corner, it had a fridge, sink, and oven. Another was a walled-off room with a door labeled ‘bathroom’. The room the three of them seemed to be in was a living room of some sort, it had a couch, coffee table, and loveseat. Looking over to the last side of the tank, it was also walled off but with two doors. Both were labeled ‘Bedrooms’ in fancy bold letters.

Grian shrieked, “How did they know that we were here!? We were so careful.” He threw up his arms in frustration as he flopped onto the loveseat. Scott’s stomach churned with guilt because he caused this. Cloe scowled at him. “Get off there, we are not entertaining them with thinking we’re comfortable.” Grian huffed, “What’s the point? We might as well take advantage of this situation.”

Scott walked to the miniature kitchen and looked through the cupboards, to get away from the arguing of the other two and through curiosity. He was pleasantly surprised to find that they were filled with grains and dried fruit. He looked in another and found plates, cups, and silverware. He took three cups hesitantly and walked over to the faucet, filling them will water.

Once all three cups were filled, he walked back to the other two, who had stopped arguing when he turned on the water. He handed each of them a cup and said, “Here, we need it. I don’t care if it’s dosed or poisoned, we will die of dehydration if we don’t.” Grian eagerly down his cup, while Cleo cautiously sniffed it before sipping it. Scott slowly drained his cup. The water felt nice on his dry throat.

Cleo finished her cup and sighed. “That helped clear my head.” She looked at Grian. “I’m sorry, I suppose you’re right. We can rest up and regain our energy for a while then we can escape in due time.” She walked to the kitchen, placed her cup in the sink, and grabbed dried fruit for each of them, passing them to Scott and Grian.

Scott nodded and whispered, “I’m sorry, it’s my fault we’re in this mess.” He took a small bite of his fruit. Grian shook his head, swallowing as he did. “Don’t blame yourself, it was bound to happen eventually. We’re just lucky it was your old friends.” Grian happily munched on his dried fruit. Cloe gently hugged him.

“Don’t blame yourself kiddo, we all agreed to go into the house,” Cleo reassured. “So don’t blame this completely on yourself.” Scott sighed and replied, “Okay…” He still felt guilty for not telling them he was seen last night but decided to change the conversation.

Scott walked to one of the rooms and looked back at them. “I’m gonna take a nap. I’m exhausted. Wake me up if they come back.” He said before opening the door and closing the door behind him. The bedroom was simple, a bed and a wardrobe were the only two thing decorating the room.

The cyan-haired boy climbed into the bed and curled up in the sheets. Tears pooled in his eyes as he buried his face into the pillows, hiccupping softly as he thought of how Gem and Impulse could do this to him. Sobs escaped him as he dragged Cleo and Grian into this mess as well. It was all his fault. He soon cried himself to exhaustion, his unconscious consuming him. His last thoughts before he fell unconscious were “I’m sorry everyone.”

#dangthatsalongname #scott smajor #smajor1995 #smajor #alternate universe #mcyt #geminitay #zombiecleo #life series #secret life #session 7 #giant/tiny #giants #fanfic #long post #long reads

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matchamilkislover · 5 months

Text

In The Darkest Corners, 10.

pairing: vi x fem!oc (reader with a name)

warnings: mature themes, just an overall minors beware, violence, just general arcane-ness.

word count: 2,009

synopsis: the infamous council meeting - and the aftermath.

author’s note: it’s going down, i’m yelling timbeeeerrrrr

don’t forget to read the other parts first!!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ

Olive and Vi were just leaving Olive’s old house when they heard running footsteps on the sidewalk, coming closer. Soon, Caitlyn came into view, and gestured for them to hurry up.

“The next council meeting. They moved it up. To tonight,” she said, opening the gate for them. “We need to be ready.”

Olive’s heart felt ready to beat out of her chest. She and Vi were waiting just beyond the doors to the Council’s meeting room, waiting for the signal for them to enter. Vi stood beside her, her face unreadable. The only hint Olive had to how she felt was the subtle sign of Vi’s clenched jaw that she could see out of her peripheral vision. Before she knew it, Cailtyn was leading them into the room where each council members’ eyes instantly latched onto the three of them. Olive could feel their eyes burning through her skin, reopening searing wounds that had barely healed. Vi’s hand suddenly clenched around hers for a moment, a reassurance Olive didn’t know she needed. Caitlyn introduced Vi but then trailed off as she turned to Vi.

“Olive Whitlock…” Salo murmured. His piercing eyes were slowly looking her and Vi up and down.

“This is ludicrous!” Hoskel suddenly thundered, pounding a fist on the table. “You have some nerve-”

“Excuse me!” Mrs. Kiramman cut him off with a sharp tone. “Calm your temper, Hoskel,” she hissed.

“Please, we just need your ears, only for a moment,” Caitlyn continued for her mother, stepping forward. She nodded towards Olive to signal that she should speak.

“I’m sure you’re all aware of the…events that took place a year ago. Or where I’ve been since then,” Olive began. “I would never believe it if I hadn’t experienced it for myself. But, the undercity…it's being ravaged. Its inhabitants, eaten alive by shimmer and fighting for their lives every day. They’re being run into the ground by violent crime lords, led by the puppeteer who rules over them all. Silco.” A quiet round of gasps left the councilors’ mouths.

“Silco? The industrialist? We’ve conducted investigations of him, there has been no sign of such organization.” Bolbok questioned.

“And who led these investigations?” Olive snapped, now glowering. She knew. They all knew. Marcus, the dirty police chief that raided her home and ended her life. Marcus, the one who had held her at gunpoint on the bridge before being blown to bits by firelights. Bolbok sighed.

“What does he even want from us?”

“Power. He believes the undercity should be independent. He calls it the Nation of Zaun.” Olive continued, knowing that she had the councilors wrapped in her words now. Jayce Talis suddenly cuts in, lifting a familiar object onto the table. One of Jinx’s bombs.

“And who is responsible for this?” He asks, returning Olive’s glower. Olive opened her mouth and glanced at Vi, but Vi nodded and stepped forward.

“Her name is Jinx,” Vi said, finally speaking.

“And this Jinx has the gemstone?” Jayce asked. Vi nodded. “Then we need to go in by force.”

“That could trigger war!” Another councilor protested.

“There are good people down there,” Olive joined in, not having expected this sudden turn. A different councilor grunted.

“Yeah, about as good as your mother,” The official muttered under his breath. Olive felt her swallowed anger flare inside of her.

“What the fuck did you just say?” She demanded, hurtling forward to where the offender was sitting. Caitlyn hurried forward to hold her back.

“Perhaps there is a diplomatic solution,” Mrs. Kiramman interjected, looking desperate to calm the fire that had been started.

“You don’t know war, Jayce. I do. It must be our last resort,” Councilor Merdarda continued for her. Jayce scoffed.

“What? You want to negotiate with the undercity? With this- Silco?” He demanded angrily. Vi cut in again.

“This is fucking insane- have you learned nothing? He won’t listen to you, you can’t just talk to him! He hates all of you, and everything you stand for!” Her aggressive stance and movements towards the councilors put the enforcers standing by the door on edge. Mrs. Kiramman’s face finally hardened.

“Enforcers, please escort them-” She was cut off by Vi.

“No need. I remember where your stupid fucking door is,” She spat before turning and leaving, Olive close behind.

When they finally exited the grand building, night had fallen, and rain was pounding down on them. Vi was moving so fast that Olive was struggling to keep up.

“Vi, wait!” She cried out, grasping onto her arm. Vi turned towards her but pulled her arm away.

“I never should’ve gotten you involved with this. I never should’ve…” Her voice trailed off.

“What are you talking about? We can fix this, we can still-” Olive didn’t even finish her sentence.

“No, we can’t. We tried, okay? But if I keep letting you get wrapped up in…all this, you’ll get hurt. Everyone always does,” she said, continuing to walk away. Olive’s frustration flashed.

“You can’t just walk away from me, after- after everything! We’re in this together.” Her voice was firm, but her eyes were red and she had to focus to keep her lip from trembling.

“It’s over, cupcake. I need to go back to where I came from, and you need to stay here, where you belong. You’ve got Caitlyn and a big, fancy house that you can fix up. You don’t need me.” Olive’s heart squeezed at the hurt in her voice.

“You’re wrong. I don’t belong here anymore. I- I don’t belong anywhere. But together, I know we could fix everything, I know we could find out what happened to my family and take down Silco and-”

“No, we can’t!” Vi’s voice came out harsher than Olive expected. “You’ll be better off if you stay here, with Caitlyn. If you forget me.” Her eyes were trained on the ground as the rain that soaked them dripped down her hair and face.

“But…what about us?” Olive asked, her voice finally shaking, the tears that had been threatening to spill pouring out of her eyes and down her cheeks like the rain that already streaked them.

“Like oil and water. It wasn’t meant to be.” Vi turned around and left, disappearing into the dark, rainy night.

Olive waited until she was completely out of view before she let herself fall against a light pole while her body was wracked with sobs, head in her hands. She forced herself to hold back the screams that threatened to burst from her throat. She couldn’t explain why it was suddenly hard to breathe, and why her heart felt like it was ripping apart inside her chest. It was a long time before she picked herself up and trudged towards Caitlyn’s house, soaked to her bones by the rain and her face wrecked by crying.

—

Before Vi had reached the edge of Piltover, a thought crossed her mind. That council member - Jayce, was it? - had been the first to suggest they fight by force. For the sake of her own heart, she knew she had to make sure Olive stayed away; especially if she was going to do what she thought she was going to do. She waited a bit longer until she was sure Olive would have left the council building by now, and then headed back, ducking in and out of dark corners to stay inconspicuous. She was sure the enforcers wouldn’t be too keen on letting her back in, and she liked doing things better this way anyways.

Vi slinked through the hallways of the dark building, searching for a sign of the council member. She eventually heard sounds of deep clanging and saw a faint light emanating from the bottom of a door. Bingo.

It took less convincing than Vi expected for Jayce to give in to her plan. This dude really is bloodthirsty. For what they were about to do, the more so, the better. The gauntlets felt so natural in her hands that she had to push away thoughts of the last time she had held something similar. Her focus stayed trained on Jayce as she leaned on one leg and reached out a gauntlet covered hand to him.

“We got a deal, pretty boy?”

—

Olive had nearly shocked Caitlyn to death when she showed back up at her door, soaked and still teary. The blue haired girl shushed her and led her inside, keeping an eye out to make sure no one saw the two of them.

“My mother really isn’t pleased with the stunt you and Vi pulled at the council meeting today,” she warned, making stern eye contact with Olive as she handed her a towel to dry off.

“I know, I- I’m sorry,” Olive replied with a sigh. It was hard enough to face Caitlyn now as is, and this had only made it worse. “I’d just like to stay one more night. Please.” Her eyes cautiously lifted to Caitlyn’s, trying to read her old friend’s expression.

“Oh Olive, of course you can stay,” Caitlyn replied breathlessly as she scooped her into a hug, ignoring that Olive’s clothes were wet enough to get her soaked as well. “But…where’s Vi?”

Olive felt her tears build up again. She pulled away from Caitlyn. “She left me. I couldn’t stop her. She said it was for the better.” Olive choked out the last few words, her face falling into her hands again as tears streamed down her face once more. Caitlyn seemed to be at a loss for words.

“Olive, I-...stay as long as you need. I’m so sorry,” Olive shook her head and cleared her throat.

“I can’t stay long. It doesn’t feel right for me to be here anymore. And I can’t keep piling this on you,” she replied softly. “Piltover is no longer my home.”

The next morning, Olive woke early and got ready quickly. It broke her heart, but she knew she had to leave before Caitlyn could stop her and try to convince her to stay again. Olive knew that she wouldn’t be able to say no this time. With one last longing look at her childhood home, Olive leapt off of Caitlyn’s balcony and made her way towards the total nightmare that was now her life. Even if Vi wouldn’t help her, Olive knew she couldn’t give up on finding her mother. On finding the truth. So back she went to her grubby shack of an apartment, to working odd questionable jobs here and there to support herself, to saving bits of food for days on end when money was tight. At least there, she knew she could do something.

—

Vi could hardly hold herself back from racing into the facility they were headed for and getting the siege over with herself. She and Jayce were loaded with a whole command of enforcers, everyone itching to take down what they now knew as the source of Piltover’s greatest headaches. If only she had known the dark turn this fight was about to take.

The attack on the shimmer facility was a blur of gunshots and bloodshed. Vi used the anger coursing through her to mercilessly take down any and all who crossed her path, ignoring the trail of those around her who had fallen. Finally, there was only one person left. A young boy that seemed oddly forceful in his determination to protect the facility. Vi recognized him as the one who had pushed the alarm in the building that alerted everyone of their presence and released the defense creatures. Vi knew that she had no choice in killing him. Apparently Jayce didn’t have the same opinion. She had hardly caught her breath when enforcers descended upon her, holding her down to clamp handcuffs on her. She growled and shouted shocked protests, shoving whatever body parts she could into them to try and overtake them.

“What the fuck!” she growled, still fighting. Jayce’s face was dark and overcast.

“Perhaps some time in Stillwater will teach you a well deserved lesson.”

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incorrectskyrimquotes · 1 year

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During the fall of Riften, the cistern collapses.

Fortunately, by that point, most of the city (including the guild that lived under it) had escaped, evacuated, or were otherwise within there homes and safe.

The casualties were heavy on the Thalmor side, but much heavier on the Skyrim side. After so much fighting, so much death, Ulfric orders a retreat.

Eryn instantly argues, but is shot down. The Thalmor can take Riften today, but they need to live to fight another day to take it back, to protect the rest of Skyrim. But it's unlikely that the Thalmor will let anyone leave alive.

Eryn thinks for a moment, and then whispers "Mul... Qah... Diiv!". Instantly she is surrounded by the fiery glow of the dragons, by translucent scales and horns and wings. "I'll hold them off, and then meet back up with you." Eryn believes her words, she believes she will walk out of this alive.

Ralof tries to stop her. And while she doesn't have it in her heart to truly argue with him or even push him away, she does slowly pull away. "Galmar... I need a favor." She says, her new wings drooping just a bit with her heavy emotions.

Galmar instantly understands, Ulfric needs a moment, and then Ralof is the last person to realize what Eryn asked them to do. But Galmar and Ulfric combined both easily outarm Ralof, and can hold him back, can stop him from stopping Eryn.

Eryn disappears into the battle, getting all of the attention on her. She holds them off for as long as she can. But as her allies retreat, she is more and more surrounded and outnumbered. Still, she doesn't surrender. She stays in the middle of the town square, fighting everyone she can see.

The explosion under her takes out the last of her dragon aspect armor. The Thalmor had set off a bomb, which eventually chain reacted into the cistern collapsing. Eryn is shot up, her wings and tail and horns and scales disapate. She realizes now she has nothing to save her.

From a distance, Ralof sees the explosion. He almost screams, before Ulfric slaps a hand over his mouth so he doesn't give away their position. Ralof collapses, and Galmar resorts to just carrying him like an injured soldier.

"Odahviing!" Eryn has gotten into the habit of calling for him when she's in desperate situations. Maybe he'll catch her, maybe he'll be able to help. She watches him race through the sky, but not fast enough. The ground hits her all too fast.

A single pillar of light shines on her and the broken rocks around her. She is bleeding and broken, even if she had potions or the strength for a spell, she wouldn't be saved.

"Thuri," Odahviing manages to climb into the hole, trying to get close to her, trying to understand. "You called, I came."

Eryn is heaving, every limb is broken, her spine has snapped, but she still smiles at him. "Yes... stay."

"Who has done this to you? I shall destroy them." He speaks in his own tongue, he prefers to, knowing Eryn can understand him.

"Too late for that..." Eryn responds in her own tongue, she knows he can understand her just fine. Her voice is so quiet and small. "I'm dying, my friend." She smiles. "Viir maar, fahdon dii." She breathes in. "I don't want to be alone."

Odahviing curls up around the rubble, around Eryn. He can't understand it, not unless she uses that cursed shout on him. He can't understand a Voice that simply ends, especially not one as strong as hers. "How can I stop it?"

It's a simple question, perhaps even childish. But Odahviing is asking in earnest, wanting to know how to help her. She summons him when she needs help, so he should help.

"You can't." She rasps out. "Just stay with me until I go." She seems to relax just a bit, in spite of the wretched pain. She thinks of Sovngarde, knowing it awaits her, and she already knows what it looks like. "I will miss the sunshine." She whispers, remember the evernight of the sky.

She's gone. Her last words were about the sun. Odahviing can feel that she's gone, though he understands so little. He roars into the sky, trying to understand the emotions inside of him.

He knows she can take the souls of Dov, he knows they grant her power, allow her to combine her dragon soul with her mortal heart. He decides to give his to her.

By the time anyone finds Eryn, there is only a dragon skeleton left curled up around her, as though she had managed to bring down one last one before she passed. But as Vipir, who had been chosen to scout out Riften and report on the damage, gets close, he realizes she's breathing. She's alive.

He gets her back to Nightingale Hall. They lay her in bed, Etienne tries to use some of his Brenton magic to help her... but he can't. None of them can understand this. She doesn't move, her breaths are so slow she doesn't look like she's moving, she doesn't even seem to be dreaming.

Eryn is like that for six months. By month three, there's an ongoing argument about what to do with her. Whether to toss her out into the world, or keep her in the hall. Every time it comes up, Etienne talks Brynjolf into letting Eryn stay, and Brynjolf talks Opal and Karliah into it.

Meanwhile, the world mourns. As far as anyone can tell, as far as the story goes, Eryn was killed by the Thalmor during the fall of Riften. A massive service is held in Solitude, and a statue of her is even erected. People lay flowers and coins and weapons at her altar every day.

The thieves guild does consider telling the world that Eryn is alive, but they decide the risk to the guild (and to Eryn) would be too great. Brynjolf specifically also believes it would be cruel to her family if she does end up dying.

Ralof spends his little spare time picking lavender. At first, everyone thinks he's just trying to distract himself. Trying to make sure he won't burn himself out. But someone eventually asks, and he tells them that lavender was Eryn's favorite.

#second great war au #i wrote this all in one go dknfns #with like. no outline none #so its probably all over the place #my writing #ill edit for spelling and such tomorrow im really tired #ill grab a word count then too im kinda curious #anyways #merry christmas to those who celebrate and goodnight

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kazubabes · 8 months

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why is it always "eat the rich" until batman comes along. he's rich. he doesn't stop the cycle in gotham. he just beats up the same people over and over again, and the same violent crimes are committed over and over again, and all he does is. keep beating up the people over and over again.

this turned into a bit of a rant/how i kind of see batman, and while i do respect other people's opinions, i think. this is more for me to get out than for anyone else to actually read.

i read gotham war ( not a fan. i think it mischaracterized everyone in order to praise batman and make him seem right even though? pretty sure that guy's on the verge of a mental breakdown, but i also despise that excuse in general because he's always looking at things in a black and white way and trying to make sure everyone follows his rules. even the fucking police commisioners. he should not have talked to renee like that. ) and it just... selina was fairly successful in redirecting henchmen into more non-violent crimes and not hurting the poor of gotham. okay, fine. while i get the point bruce is making where it's "there shouldn't be any crime", it's kind of a really unrealistic goal and if she can turn people to non-violent crimes, then maybe eventually she can turn them to no crime at all. things like that have to be done in steps. batman just thinks punching someone is going to solve the problem. though i do have to admit, selina did not mention weaning them off crime as a whole, but i do like how she doesn't expect all crime to stop instantly, and that we see that she's dropped violent crimes down by 75%. that's fucking insane, especially in gotham city, where violent crimes are prevalent.

i hate when people argue the fact that bruce had the wayne foundation remaking the city, because they neglect to add the fact that under at least,,, a good chunk of those buildings, he's adding safehouses for himself. bruce says "no crime" but is in the act of making illegal weaponry- be honest. do any of his weapons seem remotely legal beyond the grappling hooks and smoke bombs. like the guy made failsafe. that cannot be legal. - constant vigilantism ( which people argue every hero is doing, and to that i say, okay you're right on that ), assault ( "it's defending others!" okay, fine. but nightwing fights his bad guys without hospitalizing them and leaving them in crippling hospital debt ), and others. he's committing crimes, essentially, to stop crimes, and it's pretty much okay'd by the police. fine, whatever, but he can't go talking to the police like they don't make his job easier by not attempting to arrest him constantly ( not that i think they could. hence the word attempt ).

now i know people are going to be like "well batman HELPS people". okay, sure. but i don't think he helps them effectively. i also don't think he quite sees things from anyone else's point of view. would it be better to get rid of all crime? yes. but i don't think he quite targets the source of why some people feel they might have to resort to crime, or that people might be threatened into it, or whatever else the case might be ( which i think is also a flaw in our current criminal justice system in real world, especially in relation to "punish" instead of "rehabilitate", but that's a discussion for another day ).

i know people are pretty on/off about tom taylor and his nightwing run, but i've been reading it, and i really like the point where dick grayson learns to separate nightwing and dick grayson as two different entities that can help people in two different ways. nightwing can stray a little outside the law as a vigilante and help people by fighting and investigating and so on, but dick grayson started the pennyworth foundation ( ? i think that's what it's called ) and also created the "haven", which allowed for the further education and housing of the homeless in bludhaven. and overall, i don't think nightwing strikes fear into his enemies. he's always doing stupidly good things- like the incident at a strip club he performed at where he got lots of money, but he heard an old lady didn't have much if any, and he just gave it to her even though it's not as if dick was rich- in fact, i think he was literally thinking about getting something for himself with it right before he heard her. just as an example.

dick grayson isn't perfect and i won't try to argue that he is, but i think he's a great symbol. i think that what he's doing is a great start, and i think it's something that could really be built off of and that bruce could learn from. especially in the current verse.

from seeing how this worked in bludhaven, i know people will say this wouldn't work in gotham because of. whatever reason. but i think it might help some of the people in gotham. with all the gotham vigilantes, i think it could definitely be protected. with all the money bruce has and stuff like that, i'm sure he could find a way. and seeing as selina did what she did, i think it could mold into something better and something closer to what bruce had imagined. i think with the skillset that selina taught these people at her little cat burglar academy, they'd be able to defend themselves better in gotham. they'd be able to defend something like that, even if it's for a little while. now while i know gotham is vastly different than bludhaven, i do think selina had somewhat of a good start, but bruce is so far up his own ass sometimes that he doesn't think for a second and consider what this could potentially mean for the future.

call it a shot in the dark, but i do think that if selina and bruce worked together, they could have turned the skill sets selina had taught them into something more legal and off of crime, but clearly that isn't going to happen.

in sum, um. batman needs to give people more of a chance and not storm off and see everything in blacks and whites. also he's rich. i don't think he realizes how other people might view the rich or be harmed by them, even if he himself as bruce wayne doesn't do the same things as other rich people. i think what selina did was a good start to his goal, but he could have slowly made it into something that wiped crime off the table as a whole, but maybe that's just me.

"my parents were rich". i'm pretty sure they had ties to the mob or something. but anyways.

gotham war sucks. i also think it's stupid that cassandra cain, who can dodge bullets, was taken out by a grappling hook. that cassandra cain, who bruce said could win, got like. one-shotted. don't EVER do my girl like that again.

and also. everyone was super out of character so i'm honestly just putting this big old rant into the context of mostly gotham war and being like "this story sucks". and also i'm mad because people love bruce's decision on this but will say "eat the rich" in the next sentence. this is eat the rich. stealing from the rich because it doesn't affect a millionaire to lose a few jewels ( love u duke ) but it does affect a bodega owner to get shot for the money he lives on ( and u too mr. drake ).... it's not like millionaires are being murdered or harmed.

BUT ANYWAYS. i'm DONE i HATE gotham war and PLEASE stop praising batman for everything he does, esp when he seems kind of ooc in this story and so does everyone else. eat the rich always eat the rich. anyways

#dc #gotham war....#batman #rant #aaaaaa

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fantasyinvader · 2 years

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"You have to stop thinking about the first game from Joel's perspective and instead think about it from Abby and the Fireflies'. You're not supposed to be on either side..."

FUCK OFF.

I understand Abby's perspective, I've even had defenders of TLOU2 admit that. Just because Abby and the Fireflies go through mental gymnastics to make themselves out to be the good guys doesn't mean they're equally shitty as everyone else. This is a terrorist organization that will bomb civilians in order to save their own asses, exploit children as child soldiers, tell their members to do all kinds of fucked up shit under the pretense of "it'll be worth it," insult civilians who don't rise up against FEDRA, expect QZ's they've "liberated" to be their army to march on other QZs, caused other QZ's to fall to the Infected, worked with groups who have been called even worse fascists than FEDRA and likely even more. These are the same fucks who wanted to kill Joel when he was unconscious after he had traveled across the country to bring them the one person with immunity to the CBI, and was only spared because Marlene, their leader and Ellie's supposed guardian, believed he would offer her absolution over sacrifcing Ellie to make the cure. TLoU2 even compares the Fireflies to the Serphite cult.

"But Joel doomed humanity by massacring the hospital, preventing them from making a cure."

A cure that flies in the face of real world medical knowledge, jumping to a last resort measure rather than any of the less severe options RL doctors have called him out on, performed by a guy who carries around his bachelors in biology but not any evidence of him bein an actual doctor (him being in charge of a cell of terrorists recruiting child soldiers, thoujgh, that is confirmed), and the operation was supposed to be carried out in a dirty hospital room before that was retconned (with the supposed "doctor" going from a darker skin tone to a rotunds, jolly-looking white guy on top of that), with no thought given to how they could mass produce the vaccine.

From a medical/scientific perspective, what the Fireflies were doing was bad medicine. It's that against Druckmann's word that it would have worked.

Likewise, the Fireflies did explain to Joel that the procedure would kill Ellie. Joel knew there was a very real threat to her life, and from a world legal perspective, this would protect Joel. There are laws that, in such circumstances, will protect an individual who has to take a life in order to prevent the loss of life or serious injury. Joel did it to save Ellie's life.

"But Joel took away Ellie's right to choose. She even says she would have sacrificed herself for her immunity to mean something."

Ellie was unconscious and unaware that she would die. The Fireflies would not even give Joel a last chance to talk with her, they were that eager to remove her brain.

Ellie was 14 at the time, a minor. Not someone who could give consent legally

Ellie has been shown suffering from survivor's guilt, something Joel notes is why she would go through with it. Meanwhile, the Fireflies are telling her she'll be a hero if she goes through with it and all those deaths will mean something (same argument why they decide to instantly go to that extreme) When it comes to recruiting child soldiers, telling them they'll be heroes is a push factor, why it's considered exploitation.. Telling a kid that by making a cure they'll be a hero, while the kid is suffering from guilt and unaware of the process being lethal, is beyond fucked.

Finally, moral greyness does not mean everyone is equally shit. The Fireflies have done far more harm than good, no matter what their stated goals are the actions they take undermine those same goals. It's kinda hard to say you oppose fascism when you enable another group's fascism, or that you're looking out for the people when you blow those same people up for your own safety. Actions speak louder than words.

The fact that we have people defending the Fireflies, saying Joel was a monster and that Abby was justified in torturing and killing him, that ABBY is the good guy, just because they think they're the good guys... it's a fucking joke.

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rodentblood · 3 months

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regarding last reblog I literally was just talking about this type of issue in stream yesterday

I'm getting a new insulin pump and my doctor was talking up this new one available through the same company as my current pump. Works exactly the same and can connect with the continuous glucose monitor I'm already on, etc, etc but she then drops the bomb that it can ONLY be used by downloading an app on my phone and controlling it that way.

There's no screen on the device, there's no buttons NOTHING you have to have a smartphone to be able to use it. So I instantly told her no.

I am not having a life saving medical device locked behind my fucking phone?? What if I lose my phone? What if I break it? What if I forget to charge my phone? What if I get into a situation where I break my phone and can't afford a new one for a while? There's so much shit that can happen that would resort in me not having access to my insulin it's ridiculous that there's just nothing aside from an app that functions with the device imo

Give me the option to choose a smart phone app but don't make it mandatory And I refuse to budge on this, don't care if I sound old. It's ridiculous how much people rely on their phones for stuff and for something as important as this? Nuh uh sticking on device screens and buttons thank you very much

#this has been a personal post #thank you for coming to my ted talk about insulin pumps #seriously hope they don't change to only be app reliant pumps in the future cause I love my insulin pump #it's worked so well for me and has helped me so severely throughout the years #and the fear of having to go back to daily shots ouuuughhhhuhhhh no thank you

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vg-sanctuary · 9 months

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Ore no Ryouri (I'm the Chef)

Argent - PlayStation - 1999

[images from giant bomb, youtube, and emuparadise]

it's very satisfying when the controls for a game feel immersive. it's like using a fishing controller for a fishing game like Sega Bass Fishing, or a light gun for a shooting game like House of the Dead, or the Wii remote for the swordfights in Wii Sports Resort. not a lot of games go for that, and I think that's kind of a shame. one of the most high-action and unique of this kind of game is Ore no Ryouri (which literally means I'm the Chef), a super snappy and arcade-y cooking/restaurant sim for the PS1 developed by Argent (which I can't find any information about at all, if anyone has any please message me). it doesn't use any special controller, only gestures on the Dualshock controller's two joysticks to give you the feeling of cooking: using the left stick to tilt a glass and the right stick to pour beer, spinning a stick to stir batter, or pushing a stick back and forth to flip a patty in a pan. it's simple, but the responsiveness and mechanics around the gestures encourage you to cook as fast and hard as you can with its immersive controls, which is the real essence of the manic Ore no Ryouri.

sometimes when I hear about a game that started a genre, I wonder how good it can actually be compared to the modern alternatives. I haven't heard of any cooking games that came before Ore no Ryouri (message me if I'm wrong) and there have been plenty of cooking games since 1999, like Cooking Mama, the Papa's series, and Cook, Serve, Delicious!, so there's been some time for someone to make something better than the first one. "better" and "best" are matters of opinion, but I still think Ore no Ryouri is easily the best and wholly unique among cooking games and games that aim to have "immersive" controls.

Ore no Ryouri works like this: customers' orders pop up on a list and their patience drains over time, always visible at the side of the screen. different dishes are broken down into different steps, and each step is a different gesture with the sticks. how fast and accurate you are on each step in a dish determines your final score when you finally serve it, so you want to work fast and well -- many steps let you perform literally as fast as you can move the joysticks, which makes it as intense as you want it to be. sometimes you have to wait for something to boil or fry, and you can work on different orders during those waiting steps, though you have to be sure to take it off the stove at the right time. and occasionally there are "problem tasks" that show up and take a little more time to do, like washing dishes or chasing a runaway customer. if you let the time on one of these run out, all your customers instantly leave, which is almost a guaranteed loss. when your score is high enough, you win. that's basically it.

it's also got a really quirky story that I can't read because I don't know Japanese and a bright, fun art style indicative of a Japanese PS1 game. there's an awesome competitive mode where two players can go head to head in an intense culinary tug-of-war, which I've mostly only played against computers because that's the story mode and no one else has ever played this. but still. by the way, the disc looks like this!

what I love about Ore no Ryouri is that it's ultra-responsive: it lets you go as fast as your hands and mind can take you. sometimes you have to wait for things to cook, but that's the time between, and even those few seconds of pause are important. if you take a long task at the wrong time, you might let burgers cook too long or let a customer get impatient and leave. balancing this just right and cooking as fast as you can with its odd immersive controls feels like nothing else. Cooking Mama is actually a great counter-example of responsiveness, since the minigames have lots of fanfare and tutorials between them and a simple dish can take a couple minutes start to finish, while Ore no Ryouri's long dishes take maybe 30 seconds. (Ore no Ryouri's tutorials are found during the "restaurant phase" of the sotry mode, where they show you the gestures you're supposed to do in the corner of the screen. the number of different gestures is also fairly limited, which is either for technical reasons or by design because it's hard to remember too many. either way, it feels great for its short runtime, though I wish there was more!)

by the way, cooking game fans probably already know Cook, Serve, Delicious! (CSD from here on), which is also a cooking/restaurant sim with really similar mechanics to Ore no Ryouri…because it is Ore no Ryouri. or it was. the first CSD was actually the commercial release of a fangame called Ore no Ryomi 3, the third in a line of fanmade PC remakes of Ore no Ryouri. the CSD series has definitely expanded mechanically on the foundation of Ore no Ryouri in a lot of interesting ways, and it does its best to emulate the intensity…but I think it falls short. it's like Guitar Hero on a keyboard instead of a guitar. there's just no comparison, even if Ore no Ryouri isn't as mechanically rich in certain ways. CSD is purely button-based, regardless of whether you're on controller or keyboard, and it just doesn't feel right after playing Ore no Ryouri. any fans of CSD should surely go back and give this one a try.

#my writing #retrogaming #playstation #ps1 #ps1games #ore no ryouri #cook serve delicious

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tmwmapdmlan · 1 year

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스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기

스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기 링크 <<

스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기 좌표 <<

As the name suggests, it is the highest mountain in the Mojave Wasteland made of black rocks[1], and it is also the place where one of the seven nuclear warheads that Mr. House missed in the interception[2] fell.스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기

Like a mountain, it is very well fortified. The accessible section is only the front, and the frontal defense is truly bloody. Although the Mojave Wasteland is originally a desolate place, when you come up here, the background actually becomes a road to hell. The screen instantly turns black and white, the radiation pit in the back is full of mutant centaurs, super mutants attack, and traps pour in. For some reason, the background capital of Fallout 3 suddenly changes into a wasteland-like atmosphere. Think of it as Vault 87 in New Vegas. In fact, if you use jumping and rubbing well on the hill near the Hidden Valley where the Brotherhood of Steel is hiding, you can carry out the quest with only three to four nightkins.스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기

Home of Tabitha and the super mutants who follow him. Originally, Marcus built a village here as a sanatorium and settlement for super mutants from the west who wander after the master's death, because he expected that people would not approach it due to the radiation caused by the aforementioned nuclear bomb [3]. However, there was a disagreement between the relatively moderate Marcus and the hardline Tabitha, and eventually the Super Mutants split into Marcus and Tabitha, resulting in armed conflict. In order to 스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기avoid this, Marcus takes the super mutants who agree with him and renovates a hotel that was a ski resort on Mount Charleston in the northwest of the Mojave Desert to establish Jacobstown, and only Tabitha and the hardliners remain and continue to live.

Nearby, a super mutant named Neil [4] has built a lodge nearby to prevent people from being caught by the broadcast and going to Black Mountain. When the courier goes to this place for the first 스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기time, he says, "This is a dangerous place, human. Especially for your kind." It is said that those who climbed up this place with great enthusiasm never came down again. If you start a conversation, you will receive a quest to deal with Tabitha [5], and if you are a talkative courier with a conversation skill of 50 or higher, you can persuade her to deal with it together.스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기

As he said, all the super mutants here are master level, and the nightkin also have master level durability, so it is difficult to deal with without anti-submarine sniper rifle armor piercing bullets or gauss rifle buffer rounds. Durability is also durability, but their basic weapon is the Super Sledge or the Unique Incinerator Heavy Incinerator, so the firepower is scary. In addition, the road going up the mountain is not straight, but spiral, so you have to wander here and there.[6] But in other words, if you have a high level, it's a place you come to play for weapon hunting and cap replenishment. 스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기Basically, super mutants have light machine guns or incinerators, and they also have super sledges and various explosives, so once you pack your equipment and go on a raid, you can just earn thousands of caps. Mid-range or long-range engagements often take place, so if you wear armor with high DT such as the Remnant's Power Armor or the Ranger Combat Armor, and give Craig Booun, who you recruited as a colleague, enough unique weapons and ammunition, such as the All-American Survivalist Rifle, etc. Most of the super mutants are killed by the courier party without even scratching it.스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기

Once up, there's a radioactive pit and a dome-like building, which you can meet behind the dome if you've verbally persuaded Neil. When you meet him, he will go and induce the Nightkins, so tell him to hide. Of course, you can directly lure the Nightkin into a team kill battle. You can use the walkie-talkie located inside the dome building, and when you use it, Tabitha will scream why you 스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기interrupted the broadcast. It depends on the dialogue and choices below. A Nightkin sniper attacks near Tabitha's broadcasting station with an anabelle or a hunting rifle. The hunting rifle itself is quite painful, but if you attack with Annabelle, the problem becomes somewhat more serious.[11] If you survive well and kill the sniper, you can get Annabelle, a unique missile launcher.스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기

If you come this far, there are several buildings, one of which is a place where Raul is imprisoned, a warehouse, and a place where Tabitha lives. There are three places. Because of the quest, she needs to deal with Tabitha, but the room with Tabitha is locked and she can't enter. If you decide to kill Tabitha, a record on a nearby computer that can be hacked with science skill 25 or higher states 스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기that Tabitha hid an emergency key under the stairs connecting the 1st and 2nd floors in case you forgot the key. there is As the saying goes, if you look under the stairs, it's hidden in a place where you can see that it's stained with something. After you get the key, open the door and deal with Tabitha.[12]

On the other hand, if you want to end well with words, Tabitha's girlfriend, Mr. Handy 'Rhonda', is lying broken in the warehouse in the corner of the warehouse. When you come out, Tabitha appears and thanks you for repairing Ronda, hands over the keys to locked boxes in the warehouse and various guns, and goes on a trip with Ronda. If you solve the quest without killing Tabitha, your karma 스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기will increase and the super mutants who remain in Black Mountain and reappear later become friendly. [13]

By the way, whether you kill Tabitha or save him, if you enter Tabitha's broadcasting room, Black Mountain Radio will not come out from then on. If you save it, you will leave with your lover and there is no one to broadcast anymore, and if you kill it, there will be no one to broadcast anymore.

Also, his colleague, Raul Tejada, works as a repairman here, but he is almost treated as a slave, so he is locked up in a prison storage room near the broadcasting station. Search the nearby terminal to get the password (the password is 123456789)[14] or hack it if the 스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기science level is 100 and save him. However, note that if you rescue Ronda without fixing it, Tabitha will turn into an enemy and kill you. However, even after fighting like this, if you fix Ronda, they will become friendly again.

In fact, if you go straight ahead, you will have a hard time unless you have good equipment, but if you look near where Neil is, you can open a locked door that requires a Lockpick skill of 50 or more, or if you pass through the broken wire mesh in Hidden Valley, you can go through the back door through the side road. can be 스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기opened and entered. However, to open the back door, you need to have a Lockpick skill of 75, and the radioactive pit you will encounter in the middle is teeming with mutant centaurs.[15] Instead, you can attack them one by one from behind without suffering from the pincers of super mutants and nightkins, and if you're enough to open the back door anyway, unless you're a low-level courier who stakes everything on picking doors, it'll be rice for a mutant centaur, so this might be more convenient. I do not know.스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기

For reference, if you do a series of quests given by Elder McNamara in Hidden Valley to wear power armor, the last quest is to go to the 2nd floor of the Black Mountain Broadcasting Station and attach a remote signal transceiver. Most of them must have solved Tabitha-related quests, but they don't know anything about it, and they make super mutants and nightkin corpses. Whether they come 스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기secretly through the back door or secretly come through the back door, when they open the door, they meet Tabitha, who was broadcasting. In this case, you have to kill without hesitation, so if you want to complete the quest peacefully, it is recommended to find Ronda and repair it first, even if you are new to this quest.[16] Of course, that doesn't matter, and you can kill Black Mountain's beekeeper if you want.

Even before that quest, I have to go to Black Mountain to collect the BoS holotape from the centaur pit. Looking at the holotape, when Marcus, Elder McNamara, settled in Black Mountain, the 스즈메의 문단속 다시 보기 풀:영화 애니 보기western mutants are still able to speak, so they dispatch a scouting force seems to have done However, when they came to Black Mountain, Marcus left after an infighting between Marcus and Tabitha, and Tabitha became the owner of Black Mountain, and Tabitha was very hostile to humans, so the fate of the scout troops…

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스즈메의 문단속 다시보기 다시보기 영화 버전 무료 다시보기

스즈메의 문단속 다시보기 다시보기 영화 버전 Bluray

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스즈메의 문단속 다시보기 다시보기 영화 버전 스트리밍

스즈메의 문단속 다시보기 다시보기 영화 버전 1부

스즈메의 문단속 다시보기 다시보기 영화 버전 무료

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스즈메의 문단속 다시보기 전체 영화 버전 1부 온라인보기

스즈메의 문단속 다시보기 전체 영화 버전 유출 링크

스즈메의 문단속 다시보기 온라인 스트리밍보기

스즈메의 문단속 다시보기 전체 영화 버전 온라인 무료 1부

스즈메의 문단속 다시보기 전체 영화 버전 온라인 HD다시보기

스즈메의 문단속 다시보기 풀 무비 버전 구글 드라이브

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canyon-of-chaos · 2 years

Text

The Watch

(Aka Kodaxian SCP foundation)

Hello. Welcome. I see you’ve realized the errors of the Dusk wing Protection Organization? Those cowardly fools. If only they’d realized what we could do with the power of the entities they’ve mercilessly slaughtered. Come along, I’ll give you a tour.

The Organization looks a kilometer better than Dusk Wing. They don’t wish harm upon their many captured creatures. Unfortunately they aren’t what they seem. Unlike the foundation they were based on, they are not kept a secret. They have around 200 captured entities. Their members aren’t quite as trained in combat as Dusk Wing’s, but are pretty good at moving quietly to trap and collect a quarry. Usually, their members are always trained in both research and protection, for efficiency. They plan on trying to use the entities for their own purposes. Because of their differences, scuffles between both protection groups occur often. They think of Dusk Wing as cowards, hunting down and killing targets instead of capturing them.

What if?

One of their own was secretly an Entity? They’d capture them.

An entity escapes more than once? The Watch does not like risk. They’d increase the defense. If that didn’t help, an outright elimination would be a final resort.

What if one of theirs was a Dusk Wing spy? Eliminate instantly (or keep for testing reasons) They do not like spies.

Dusk Wings and Watchers

Here you can see our captures. There are many, around 200 altogether. They look menacing, but they’re just a bit upset. In time you’ll be more intimidating than them. Although, with the battle skills of a Dusk Wing, you’re already plenty scary. Ha! Anyway, best to pass them now. We needn’t be here that long. We’re going to see our weaponry!

The Watch is at a disadvantage against Dusk Wing for their lack of battle skill. They are usually the losing party in skirmishes between the two groups. However, the Watch uses stealth, like the way Dusk Wing prefers speed tactics. Often used weapons include explosives, smoke (and flame) bombs, daggers, ropes (like the Ropecaster in HZD), and ranged weapons. All their members carry weapons at all times.

This is not all! I will add more! Just not really feeling like adding more rn

#kodaxians original species #my stories #Birdcage original story #Dusk wing protection organization #The Protection Watch #Violence tw #tw killing

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Text

Jon wears a leather jacket to work. No one is immune.

Jon’s running late.

He doesn’t often run late. Ever since he got the promotion, he’s been working overtime- coming in early, staying late, sometimes not leaving at all. He had a mess on his hands, and its one he intends to fix.

So while it’s been some time since he’s seen Rosie at the front desk, it isn’t enough for her to do a double take. But that she does, her usually stoic face going red and her eyes widening in what looks like shock. That’s a bit dramatic.

“O-Oh!” She’s stuttering. Rosie never stutters. “G-Good morning, Jon. You look- you’re looking very nice today!”

That can’t be true. He slept through his alarm, something he hasn’t done in ages. He didn’t have time to comb his hair and decided to leave it in the messy bun from yesterday- at least it’s out of his way. He skipped shaving altogether and couldn’t find his usual cardigan, instead resorting to an old, beat up leather jacket from college. It’s seen better days, and it reeks of guilty cigarettes snuck in his most desperate hours. The picture of professionalism he is not.

“Um, okay,” is the only response he can think of giving, scurrying past her desk and down to the basement. He doesn’t have time to parse that interaction out, not when his assistants are probably already gathered round, gossiping about his absence. Sure enough Tim’s sitting on Sasha’s desk, smirking and whispering something as he walks through the door, keeping his head down with a grumbled “Good morning.”

The chatter instantly stops. He hazards a glance to find Tim and Sasha, open-mouthed and staring in what can only be horror or fear. He was never any good at reading people.

“Good Lord,” Tim whispers, borrowing a phrase from Jon’s book. It sounds odd coming from his mouth, and even stranger in that soft tone. Tim’s deafening on a good day, and Jon’s never seen his golden skin turn quite so red.

“Good morning, Jon,” Sasha’s smirking, her voice turning velvety and smooth. He’s heard her use that tone in bars when she wants another round for the table. Never in the Archives. And never once has it been aimed at him. Jon bristles.

“What is going on?” he asks impatiently, running a hand through messy hair. He could swear Tim gulps. “Do I have something on my-”

He’s interrupted by a loud, high-pitched squeal, followed by the shattering sound of two mugs full of hot tea hitting the tile. He jumps back to avoid the mess, scowling at the man in front of him. Martin looks like he’s having a coronary; Jon wasn’t aware faces could turn that red. And he, too, is staring.

“I’m late, I don’t have time for this,” he says, side-stepping the spreading puddle and throwing a scowl at Martin’s gaping face. “Clean this up.” He walks away to sputtered apologies and a snicker from Sasha. What’s gotten into them today?

He shuts the door with a decisive click, should anyone think of bothering him.

_________

And not an hour later, someone does.

He answers Martin’s tentative knock with a curt “Come in.” Martin’s looking at his feet as he shuffles in with a cup of tea, his face only slightly less red. He stands as far away as possible when he deposits it on his desk, refusing to meet Jon’s eyes and likely not seeing his nod of thanks. But instead of leaving, he just stands there.

“Do you need something?” Martin jumps at his voice, raising his eyes minutely before lowering them again. What in the world…?

“Y-Your jacket.” He flushes again and Jon’s starting to think he should really see a doctor about that. “You’re still wearing it.”

He is. He hadn’t given it much thought; it’s cold down in the Archives, and sometimes he’ll go all day with a jacket or cardigan over his shoulders. Still, Martin’s right- it doesn’t look very professional. He starts to shrug out of it when Martin throws his hands out in front of him, like Jon’s about to cut the wrong wire on a bomb.

“N-No!” His voice comes out high and strangled. It’s very irritating. “Don’t!”

“What on earth is going on with you-”

“It’s just- you shouldn’t! Not if you’re cold.” Martin gives him a weak smile that Jon doesn’t return. “Wouldn’t want you to get s-sick or something!”

Jon stares. “Please leave.”

“O-Okay.” Martin backs out of the room. Jon keeps the jacket on.

It is cold.

_______

Thirty minutes later, Sasha comes in with a file he doesn’t need. She lingers with some inane chatter which is very much unlike her, and her phone’s positioned awkwardly in front of her. If Jon didn’t know any better, he’d think she was taking a photo.

The last straw comes when Tim leans in the doorway, a leer on his face. That always means trouble.

“Come to drop off an unnecessary document?” he snarks, slamming a book closed. He’s tired of this game they’re playing. “Maybe finish whatever strange prank you’ve got planned? You know I don’t have time for-”

“Boss.” Tim’s face goes serious, an alarming sign for him. “I have to tell you something. And I promise I’m not making fun of you or anything. I know where your mind goes.”

Jon rolls his eyes at the dramatics. “If you insist-”

“Jon.” Tim comes closer and Jon subconsciously shifts back in his chair. “Objectively, this is the hottest you’ve ever looked.”

What?

Tim raises a finger. “Don’t give me that. I mean, did you look in the mirror today?”

Well, that’s a bit uncalled for. Jon knows he looks a bit scruffy, but this teasing has got to stop. He’s starting to feel a bit insulted. “Tim-”

“You look good. You look dangerous.”

“That’s not a compliment-!”

“Like you ride a motorcycle,” Tim continues, inching closer. His eyes are staring intently into Jon’s, but it seems like he’s lost in his own little world. “Or maybe you’re in a gang, or an underground syndicate. You’ve got a rough past but really, a heart of gold.” Perhaps Tim’s drunk. Or on drugs. He could be on drugs. It’s the only thing that would explain whatever the hell...this is.

“I meet you at a bar,” Tim’s sat down now, right in front of Jon’s desk. Instead of throwing his legs over the side of the chair he leans forward on his knees, still with that disconcerting eye contact. “You’ve stepped out for a smoke.” Oh God, can he smell it? “I’ve had a few too many. You say ‘Got a light?’ in a dark, husky voice.”

“Husky?”

“I nod, flicking my lighter on and raising the flame to your cigarette. You look me directly in the eyes as you inhale-” At this Tim does his own little breathy intake, a finger to his lips as if he’s putting on a one-man show. And Jon- well, Jon’s not immune.

Tim sighs, leaning back in his seat and letting his hands fall back into his lap. “And the rest? Is history.” He takes a moment to recover, blinking slowly. Jon stares.

“What I mean to say is-” Suddenly Tim’s back again, as if the previous minute had never happened. “-do you want to get a drink later?”

What the fuck?

Jon opens his mouth but then pauses, considers. It’s been a week. He’s tired, at the end of his rope. And maybe-

Maybe he misses Tim. Just a little. They did used to have fun, sometimes. Before all of this. Back when they were friends.

“Okay.”

Tim blinks. “What?”

“I’ll come,” Jon agrees, though the rational part of him wants to take it back. But Tim’s in front of him-ridiculous, charming, idiotic Tim- and how can he resist? “But I don’t smoke anymore, so I’m afraid I can’t quite live up to your fantasies.” Tim barks out a laugh and Jon finds himself smiling back, his face growing warm.

Perhaps he should wear this thing more often.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28491015

#my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #jontim #jonmartin #a little bit #and mostly pining #fluff #just a ridiculous idea that wouldn't let me go im sorry

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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

Note

so, How do you think the companions would react to finding out sole has advanced prosthetics from their time in the war? (i headcannon fem sole as some sort of SOF during the war, coz lawyer is just boring >.>)

Fallout 4 Companions react to Sole having advanced prosthetics from before the bombs fell.

Hey anon, thanks so much for the ask! This was really interesting to think about, and yeah, I also headcannoned one of my OCs as a soldier before the bombs fell, cuz yeah... not sure how helpful being a lawyer would be in post-apocalyptic times 😅 I hope you enjoy!

Cait:

Her eyes would fall to the line across Sole’s right elbow, wondering how she hadn’t noticed it before. She wouldn’t care too much, and wouldn’t treat them any differently, but she would be interested in how Sole had gotten their injury, and would certainly try and coax the whole story out of them (resorting to the use of alcohol if necessary to loosen their lips). She was so bold about her own traumatic past experiences, so Sole could surely tell her about this one thing, right? The brawler might also be interested in the physical abilities of their prosthetic arm and hand, wondering if it would give them an edge in the next bar fight they found themselves in.

Curie:

She would be very interested in every detail Sole could provide regarding their prosthetic shoulder, left chest plate, and arm. The scientist wouldn’t be able to contain herself, asking question after question about its functionality, the nature of Sole’s injury before they received the prosthetic, their rehabilitation process, the way the prosthetic interacts with Sole’s body and how it's able to move. As Sole stood there, trying to figure out where to begin, Curie’s eyes would widen in surprise at her own rudeness, she would apologize and ask if Sole was comfortable discussing their injury with her. As she finds out more, Curie would begin to try and create her own prosthetics based off of Sole’s in order to help any handicapped patients she came across in the Commonwealth.

Danse:

The paladin’s eyes would widen at Sole’s words. He never would have guessed that Sole’s entire left hip and leg was an advanced prosthetic, and the commanding officer would be curious as to why they hadn’t mentioned it to him earlier. He would feel guilty as he thought back on all of the times he pushed them harder, told them to gruffly to keep up or to continue moving after it seemed like they needed rest. He would apologize and ask how he could help to better accommodate Sole, offering to speak to Proctor Teagan and Proctor Ingram about Sole’s circumstances and possible improvements to their power armor or the prosthetic itself. Danse would be a little hesitant, but ultimately he would gain the courage to ask if they would be comfortable telling him about how they were injured, going so far as to share some of the stories surrounding his own battle scars with them in return.

Deacon:

Deacon would have been curious as to why Sole always wore their sunglasses, he often thought perhaps they were simply mocking him. But one night, as they removed their shades and locked eyes with him, he would notice the difference in coloration and ask them about it. When they told him one of their eyes was a fully functioning prosthetic, he'd be a little shocked, not even aware that those existed, but interested nonetheless. Apart from the occasional joke about Sole getting an eye patch, being a pirate, or just sight-related puns in general, he would be pretty chill about the whole thing. If Sole wanted to tell him more about it, he was open to it, but he wouldn't mind if they wanted to keep it to themself. No matter how much he knows, Deacon would be protective of his partner, and would try his best to keep their prosthetic a secret from as many people as possible, since it is such a unique feature of theirs.

Hancock:

He wouldn't even break eye contact with Sole when they told him about their prosthetic right arm and shoulder, he would just ever so slightly raise the ridge above his eyes in surprise at having never noticed before. It really wouldn't matter to him, and he would treat Sole the same way he always has, just maybe he would try and stick to the right of them more often since he knows that it's their weaker side. If they're ever in any pain, he'll of course have a plethora of chems on hand to help relieve them of it. He won't be one to openly ask about their past and their injury, but if they want to tell him, he's all ears and no judgment.

MacCready:

He would try to act nonchalant when they told him about their prosthetic forearm, wrist, and hand, but his expression would clearly give away his shock. What do you mean it’s not real!? How does it work? What happened to your real arm? Can you still feel stuff with it? Does it make it harder to aim? How does it move? A hundred questions would tumble into his mind, but he would try his best to keep them all from spilling out of his mouth at once, putting on a cool front, he’d simply nod and tell them that he’s glad they felt they could tell him about it, and that would be the end of it for now. As they continue traveling together, he would periodically voice one of the questions he had thought of before, still trying to seem aloof about the whole thing. In reality, he thinks it’s really cool, and it reminds him of a few comic book characters he’s read about.

Nick:

The detective was nothing short of astounded when he looked into Sole’s eyes for the first time after finding out they were fully functioning prosthetics. He couldn’t believe it, they looked so realistic, he never would have known if he hadn’t been told. Finding out about Sole’s eyes honestly made the synth feel more at home around them; not that they had ever made him feel alienated as a synth, but now he felt like they could empathize with him a bit more easily. Although, he must admit, he’s a little jealous of their normal-looking eyes in comparison to his own. The older synth has made his peace with who and what he is, having been this way his whole synthetic life, but he may just approach Sole and speak to them about where, hypothetically, he could find prosthetics like theirs, and would consider speaking to Dr. Amari about installing them. Sole, of course, would help him out, all while making sure Nick knew how much they liked his eyes the way that they are.

Piper:

The reporter's eyes would slowly widen with each inch Sole's pant leg was rolled up to expose their prosthetic ankle, shin, and knee. She would then try to contain her shock, but would fail pretty miserably as her interviewing instinct kicked in and she began firing off every question that entered her mind. Most of them had to do with how Soles life changed after they had their injury, and then received their prosthetic limb, and Sole would answer a few to appease her before she realized how insensitive she was being. Piper would then instantly make up for it by apologizing to them, and offering to help them out with anything they may need. More often than not, while they were traveling, she would offer to carry more, would try and take more rest stops, and would offer even more snacks and beverages to Sole along the way. Sole would insist that they're okay, telling her about the fully functioning nature of their prosthetic, but she would still take efforts to help them out more often.

Preston:

He would start by apologizing to Sole after he found out, but he wouldn’t be sure exactly why he felt the need to apologize. Perhaps because he felt sorry for them, and the injury and rehabilitation they had to live through? Or maybe it was because he felt like he had put too much pressure on them from the start? He had asked them to take down a dozen raiders and a deathclaw on the first day he’d met them, and then offered them the position of general, and all this time they had been helping those in need of their help with two prosthetic legs. They told him briefly that they had been injured before the bombs fell, but he hadn’t realized it had been this extensive. He would be sure to take it a little easier on them, and would be more conscious of their well-being, offering to rest more when they were traveling, and giving what missions he could to other minutemen. Preston wouldn’t pry, but would be ready to listen if Sole ever wanted to tell him more about their injury or their experience living with their prosthetics.

X6-88:

X6's expression would remain ultimately unchanged as they told him about their two prosthetic hands, but he would marvel at their authenticity. How had he not known that they were prosthetics? The courser would ask if they were fully functional, if only to ensure that the prosthetics wouldn't be a danger to Sole in combat, but once assured that they were, he wouldn't treat Sole any differently. Inside, he would be curious about how Sole had sustained such an injury, but he would never voice it. If they did choose to tell him the whole story, he would simply listen and nod, a little confused as to why they felt the need to share this information with him. Though he didn't know why they told him, he would feel a strange lightness in his chest at the fact that they trusted him enough to share something this personal with him.

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Don’t Be Sorry

In which Y/N’s past catches up to her... and Colson

Reader x Colson Baker

Warnings: Abuse (Graphic), cursing, violence.

A/N: Seriously, it gets detailed. If you are uncomfortable with domestic abuse/ violence then this is not the fic for you. If you are a victim of abuse, there are resources available for you. The National Domestic Violence Support Hotline is 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).

Word Count: 2352

masterlist

“To good music and good friends” Colson shouted over the noise of the crowd. The group raised their glasses in a toast before downing the shot. “Now let’s fuckin party!”

It was your first time out in a while. You liked to pretend it was because you were too busy. I have a job outside of writing music with you, you would always remind the older boy. But truthfully, you weren’t as attached to the party scene as your friends and did whatever you could to avoid them.

But when Colson asked, well begged, you to go out with them to celebrate finishing Hotel Diablo you couldn’t say no. Colson’s face when you said yes almost made you excited. Almost.

But now on the crowded rooftop of a club you’d never been to in an outfit that was all too tight and all too short, you wished you’d made up an excuse to stay home. Luckily your friends made you forget your unease.

“Y/N, watch me drink both of these beers in 10 seconds!” Rook shouted, holding two bottles in his hands. You laughed, shaking your head slightly at his antics and pulling out your phone to time him.

“Ok, go.” You said as he brought the bottles up to his mouth, chugging both in an astounding 9.75 seconds. “Dude that’s insane.” You showed him the timer and he cheered, dragging you to the bar.

“I’m getting you a drink, whaddyu want?” Rook asked as he waved down the bartender. “Rum and coke?” He questioned, knowing your order by heart at this point.

“How’d you guess.” You asked with a smile on your face.

“It’s a talent.” Rook laughed, arms flailing as he bowed dramatically.

The pair of you got your drinks and returned to your group in the middle of the dance floor. When you got back Slim dramatically held out his hand for you to dance with him, and you guys jumped around to the music.

The drink in your veins made you a little more comfortable. it wasn’t enough to get you into any trouble, just enough to loosen you up for a good time. As the group laughed at AJ’s terrible dance moves, you felt a chill come over the room.

As the rest of your friends smiled and laughed, you looked around the dance floor, trying to find anything, or anyone, out of place. Unfortunately for you, you were much shorter than the men around you, so you couldn’t see much.

Colson noticed you weren’t really with the group, and he followed your gaze around the room, leaning in close to you. “Everything ok?” He asked.

“Yeah, I just have this weird feeling.”

He laughed, “drink too much?”

You gave him a pointed look and then chuckled to signify you were joking. “No, I just, I don’t know how to explain it. I just have a bad feeling about something.”

“Ok, well just don’t leave my side. I’ll keep you safe.” He winked at you and you rolled your eyes, but you appreciated the sincerity in his statement.

Colson and you had been friends for years, but after your last relationship ended... roughly (to put it nicely), he let you stay at his place for a while until you got back on your feet. Since then you’d gotten closer to the tattooed man and come to trust him implicitly.

You refocused on your friends, watching Pete and Baze racing pints of beers, with Baze winning (for obvious reasons). You laughed as Pete hung his head in shame. He scrunched his nose at you. “I don’t see you chugging anything.”

This only made you laugh harder, “I don’t think what you were doing is considered “chugging.”” You made air quotes as he put on a mock hurt expression.

“Y/N’s up next!” Slim shouted and your eyes went wide.

“Oh hell no, man. I leave that shit up to you guys.” You smiled as he shook his head profusely.

“Nope, you gotta do it. Rook’s already getting the beer.”

You hung your head, knowing there was no arguing with Slim. “Fine, but I’m gonna lose and then I’m gonna be mad. So if I’m mad, its your fault.” You shook your head as the boys howled.

Rook came back with two beers in his hand, handing you one. “I’ll give you a head start.” Slim smiled.

“Fuck no, man.” You said before bringing the beer to your lips, chugging the drink. Slim was taken off guard and ended up starting a few seconds after you, which was all the advantage you needed.

You raised your hands in victory as AJ picked you up in celebration, the boys cheering for you as Slim hung his head. Once you landed back on your feet, Rook threw his arm around your shoulders, “Y/N is the fuckin bomb.”

You loved this feeling, you loved being surrounded by your friends who loved you. You giggled as he leaned into you, making you stumble under his weight.

“Oh look, Y/Ns surrounded by all her little man-whores.” His voice sobered you up instantly and made every bone in your body tense up. You looked up to Colson for support, but he was already focused on the man behind you.

“Not even gonna look at me, damn. You’re really that much of a bitch, huh? Not even gonna say hi?” His voice was like poison in your veins. Every word he spoke reminded you of the last time you saw him. You subconsciously reached up to your neck, rubbing your throat.

“Get the fuck away from her dude.” Colson said shortly. You tried to catch his eye. You wanted to beg him not to make a scene, to just take your hand and leave. But it was too late for that.

“And who the fuck are you?” Jason, your ex-boyfriend, moved towards Colson and into your view. You flashed back to the night in his living room, his back facing you just like it was now, before he turned around and-

Luckily, Rook’s hand squeezing your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to look at him, his head cocked and his eyes questioning. You simply shook your head at him. You looked back to Colson who was seething. You caught Pete’s eye behind him and mouthed, we need to leave.

Pete nodded, grabbing Colson’s arm lightly, but the blond only shook off his friends grasp.

“Hey, there’s this really cool music store down the street that’s still open, we should go check it out.” AJ said, his eyes trained on you. Thank god for AJ.

“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.” Pete said, “Colson let’s go check it out.”

You could see Jason’s face change when he figured out who the blond man was. “Yeah, Colson, why don’t you take your bitch and get out of here.”

“Don’t fucking call her that.” Colson moved closer to him and your eyes widened in fear.

“What? A bitch? That’s what she is, a slutty fucking bitch.” With every word, Jason moved closer to your friend until the two men were almost touching. Tears stung your eyes as you flashed back again.

“You stupid fucking whore. Who the fuck do you think you are? Fucking around with some asshole rapper! Did you forget you fucking belong to me?”

His words still rang in your mind. You could feel your body begin to shut down, your lungs gasping for breath just like they had that day.

You were brought back to reality by the screams of protest as Colson pushed your ex-boyfriend away from him, causing Jason’s fist to make contact with Colson’s jaw.

“You think you can get away with making me look like an idiot? I’m your fucking boyfriend, not him.”

Jason’s fist made contact with your left cheek and your knees failed to hold you up. The man caught you before you hit the ground, leaning forward to pin you against the wall behind you.

“Y/N, c’mon, let’s go.” Rook’s arm fell to the small of your back as he escorted you through the crowd, Slim following you. You made your way down the stairs, the two boys helping to support your weight.

“I’m gonna make you remember who you belong to.”

Jason pinned your arms above your head as he pressed you further into the wall. His free hand made its way up your chest to your throat. His soft grasp turned into a squeeze around your neck.

“Jason please-”

You tried to talk, but few words could come out. You struggled for air as his eyes grew darker and darker.

“You think you can go and fuck around with whoever you want, don’t you?”

You shook your head, but he continued.

“You’re a goddamn slut, and you need to learn your lesson.”

Your vision began to blur.

“Y/N, you okay?” You came back to reality to find yourself in the alley between the club and the neighboring building. Slim was standing in front of you, Rook to your side as you leaned against the wall behind you.

You shook your head in response and he let out a sigh. Suddenly the door slammed open and you flinched at the noise.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

You kneed Jason as a last resort before you lost consciousness, and now you were running through the house. You ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind you and pulling your phone from your pocket, not even noticing the new crack in the screen. You searched for the first name you could think of.

“Colson?”

“Colson, take a breath, man!” AJ yelled as he followed the tall blond man outside.

Colson was pacing a few feet away from you as you tried to focus on breathing, your hand subconsciously reaching for your neck again, as if you were trying to pry his invisible hand off of you.

Pete moved in front of you, taking in your state of fear. Other than Colson, Pete was the only one who had any idea about your ex. He didn’t know the whole story, only that it ended violently.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, keeping his distance as he leaned against the other wall across from you.

You sniffled and wiped your face, nodding quickly as you realized most of your friends- save for Baze and Colson- were watching you. “Sorry guys- he’s just an ex. He’s kind of an asshole.”

“Really kid? We couldn’t tell.” AJ tried to joke, and you cracked a small smile, trying to convince them you were ok.

Your breathing started to slow, and you felt yourself coming down from your panicked state, until you caught Colson’s fist making contact with the wall of the club.

“Open this fucking door bitch!”

Jason’s fists beat against the door- the only thing standing between you and him.

“He’s gonna kill me Cols. I’m so scared.”

Your sobs rang through the phone as the banging intensified.

“He can’t save you now, bitch! Not such a big man now, are ya? Colson!”

“Colson!” Baze berated the blond man, who recoiled in pain. “Get your shit together, bro.” He said, quieter.

Colson looked up at his friend and then past him to meet your eyes. His blue orbs softened at the tears in yours. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He whispered, walking over to you.

He leaned forward against the wall you already occupied, his arms above your head as his head drooped down to watch you. You looked up at him, your hand reaching up to touch his face where Jason had made contact.

He flinched when your skin met his, causing you to jerk your hand back, afraid he would yell at you for hurting him.

“It’s okay, I was just surprised is all.” He whispered before grabbing your hand and bringing it back up to his chin. You ran your fingers over the forming bruise lightly, another tear falling from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered. “I didn’t think he’d- I didn’t know...” You trailed off, looking down and dropping your hand from Colson’s face.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He moved one hand to gently tilt your face up, leaning down to be closer to you, “Look at me. This was not your fault. Okay? You don’t need to be sorry for anything, babe. You did nothing wrong.”

“I just- if I hadn’t called you that night-”

“You wouldn’t be here. Y/N if you hadn’t called me you could’ve been seriously hurt. He could’ve killed you.”

You took a shaky breath in, sniffling. Colson sniffled too. “Y/N, this is nothing, okay? I would take a thousand more punches like this if it means that douchebag never comes near you again. I mean it. Don’t blame yourself for this, okay?” You nod, reaching your arms up to wrap around his neck as you bury your head into his shoulder, your nose pressed against his neck.

His arms wrapped around you and you could hear his sniffles in your ear as his lips pressed against your hair. “Thank you.” You mumble into his neck, pressing your lips against the hot skin.

“Hey! Get the fuck out of here! This isn’t some fucking party you can photograph. Fuck off with your cameras!” Pete yelled, causing you to release Colson and look towards the commotion. You briefly see a figure in the distance before a white flash blinds you.

“Fuckin paps.” Colson whispered, his arms still wrapped around your waist.

“Let’s get outta here, guys.” Slim says, leading everyone back into the club to leave through the back door. Colson interlocked your hand with his as you stepped into the building, keeping you as close to him as possible as you squeezed your way through the crowd.

Once you loaded yourselves into the van, you leaned your head on Colson’s shoulder, your hands still interlocked. “Can I stay at yours tonight?” You asked in a whisper. Colson simply pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hand leaving yours to wrap around you and pull you closer to him.

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