#I feel like I’m cracking a nuclear code

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

The streets are alive again. Banners wave, voices roar, and the air stinks of overpriced street food and righteous fury. America is throwing itself another full-scale political tantrum, and honestly, it feels like home. The Donald has barely been back in office for two weeks, and already the country is cracking open like a cheap piñata, spilling outrage, chaos, and enough executive orders to turn the Constitution into a bar napkin with “NO WOKE STUFF” scribbled in Sharpie.

The man is signing orders like he’s trying to speedrun fascism. His latest masterpiece? The aggressively named “Keeping Men Out of Women’s Sports” executive order, which is not at all a subtle title and makes it sound like he’s personally tackling trans athletes at the starting line. It rewrites Title IX into a conservative fever dream and threatens schools with legal Armageddon if they let a trans girl onto the field hockey team. Somewhere in the White House, Stephen Miller is probably jerking off to the printed document.

And then there’s Elon Musk. Because of course, there’s Elon Musk. Just when we thought this country couldn’t possibly be any more of a dystopian hellscape, Trump handed him the reins to something called the Department of Government Efficiency—which sounds like something straight out of a rejected 1984 fanfic. Now, the man who ruined Twitter has read-only access to Treasury data, which, according to the government, is totally fine and not at all a reason to panic. Never mind that the guy can’t run a website without accidentally locking himself out of his own account—now he’s poking around the U.S. financial system like a bored raccoon in a dumpster.

The result? Protests in every goddamn state. This isn’t 2017, with its polite pink-hat marches and Hamilton cast speeches. No, this is something darker, louder, and more unhinged, like the entire country just realized it’s trapped in a Black Mirror episode and no one knows where the pause button is.

In Columbus, Ohio, a woman summed up the mood perfectly: “I’m appalled by democracy’s changes in the last, well, specifically two weeks—but it started a long time ago.” Translation: The wheels have been falling off this clown car for years, but now the engine’s on fire and the driver is a 78-year-old man who thinks windmills cause cancer.

Austin, Texas, saw massive demonstrations, because of course it did. Protesters swarmed the Capitol, trying to drown out the Moms for Liberty crowd, who, if left unchecked, will eventually push for mandatory daily prayers to Ronald Reagan. Meanwhile, in Atlanta, marchers made their way from Centennial Olympic Park, probably reminiscing about the good old days when the biggest political controversy in town was the Falcons choking in the Super Bowl.

But the gold medal for protest slogans goes to Phoenix, where activists decided to cut through the noise with the brutally efficient “DEPORT ELON.” Say what you want about modern discourse, but that? That’s art.

Over in Jefferson City, Missouri, protest signs went after Musk’s government infiltration with the blunt “DOGE IS NOT LEGIT.” We are officially at a point where American democracy is being debated using the same terminology as a Reddit crypto scam. Perfect.

Meanwhile, in freezing Lansing, Michigan, hundreds braved the cold to scream into the void. One woman held up a Democratic campaign sign she had altered to read “Harris Walz Were Right”, which is the saddest I told you so in political history.

And what does Trump think of all this? He loves it. He lives for this. If there’s one thing Trump enjoys more than a well-done steak drowned in ketchup, it’s chaos. Every angry protester, every screaming headline, every panicked liberal on MSNBC is a gift to him. He is the internet troll who made it to the Oval Office, a human YouTube comment section with nuclear codes, and he feeds on this kind of outrage.

But this time, the resistance isn’t rolling over. Not after Roe. Not after J6. Not after four years of watching democracy dangle off a cliff while half the country cheered for gravity. So here we are, two weeks into 2025, and it already feels like we’re speeding toward some kind of grand national breakdown, with Trump setting fire to the rulebook, Musk fumbling around government systems like an overcaffeinated IT guy, and the streets filling up with people who have had just about enough.

How does this all end? Nobody knows. But if history has taught us anything, it’s that America doesn’t go down quietly.

[Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail]

[digitaltariq]

Russian avid gamers race to stop nuclear ‘conflict’

Story highlights Newest craze in Moscow is conflict sport during which gamers race to search out nuclear codes Russian officers are enjoying on fears, staging a mass nuclear drill CNN  —  “Consideration! Consideration!” blares the Russian voice from a loudspeaker. “The nuclear bombs will likely be launched in a single hour.” Inside a room styled as a Soviet-era nuclear bunker, a few Russians race to stop a catastrophic strike on america. Their quest – the newest craze in Moscow – is to search out the nuclear launch codes and deactivate a hidden pink button, which has already been pressed by a mad Russian normal. It’s full fantasy; simply an interactive game hosted in a constructing in a former industrial space of the town, paying homage to the fears of the Chilly Conflict. However amid the present tensions with Russia, during which potential nuclear confrontation with the West has once more been raised, it feels slightly unsettling. “I’m nervous as a result of there's very silly data from each side,” mentioned Maxim Motin, a Russian who has simply accomplished the Purple Button Quest sport. “I do know that ordinary individuals all around the world don’t need any conflict,” he added. However Russian officers have been making ready the nation for the potential of battle, stoking deep-seated issues a few standoff with the West, Russia’s outdated Chilly Conflict rival. Russian tv has been broadcasting a mass coaching train, involving as much as 40 million individuals throughout the nation. It's designed to arrange responses, the federal government says, for a chemical or nuclear assault.

The video exhibits emergency employees with protecting fits and gasoline masks main the civil protection rehearsal, the largest of its type for the reason that collapse of the Soviet Union. It suggests the Kremlin needs Russians to take the specter of conflict very significantly. In fact, all-out battle between Russia and the West stays extremely unlikely. Analysts say the precept of Mutually Assured Destruction – or MAD – nonetheless holds as a deterrent, simply because it did throughout the Chilly Conflict. However with tensions rising over Syria, Ukraine, and the Baltic states, analysts say a small danger of contact, misunderstanding and escalation between the nuclear superpowers has change into very actual. “I don’t suppose nuclear conflict is probably going,” says Fyodor Lukyanov, editor of Russia in Global Affairs, a distinguished overseas coverage journal. “However when two nuclear superpowers are working with their navy machines in the identical space, very shut to one another they usually don’t have correct coordination, any unintended factor can occur,” he advised CNN. It's a danger the Kremlin appears eager to play up, with state tv upping its hardline rhetoric in latest weeks. In its flagship present affairs present, Russia’s high state information anchor, Dmitry Kiselyev – dubbed the Kremlin’s propagandist-in-chief by critics – just lately issued a stark warning of world conflict if Russian and US forces conflict in Syria. “Brutish conduct in the direction of Russia might have nuclear dimensions,” he declared. The Russian protection ministry has additionally launched particulars of the newest intercontinental ballistic missile being added to its nuclear arsenal. The Satan 2, because it’s recognized, would be the world’s most harmful weapon, guaranteeing Russia’s place as a high nuclear energy. It's an apocalyptic imaginative and prescient that provides an extra sense of realism to the fantasy quest being acted out by avid gamers in Moscow. “I do know that now in colleges in Russia they inform the kids that our fundamental enemy is the US,” mentioned Alisa Sokoleva, one other Moscow gamer. “Nevertheless it sounds ridiculous to me and I’m completely positive that conflict is not possible,” she provides.

Again within the pretend Chilly Conflict bunker, the Russian avid gamers have cracked the launch codes and deactivated the missile launch. The USA, it appears, has once more been saved from this digital Russian nuclear assault. Hopefully, the true world will likely be spared such a confrontation too. Read the full article

[brybryby]

I completely agree that Miles Upshore is queer, and Waylon is on the spectrum as well! If you have your friends analysis still plzzzzz link! I crave the content!!!

HI HI THANK YOU FOR THE ASK! 💜

I wish I had his analysis still!!! aarrrrgh it's been so long ;-; But I can try to relay some of the points he made (and add some of my own)!

This gets pretty lengthy so be prepared :')

I also added external links but they’re only there if you want to read more about the point I’m making! Feel free to skip them!

also // TW for mentions of SA

Miles

Story-wise, my friend found it interesting that Miles was the perfect host for the Walrider. Wernicke and Alan Turing were friends/lovers who worked on the technology that culminated into Project Walrider, so there's already a sense that the Walrider was founded on Wernicke and Turing's love for each other.

So, before I move on, I'll talk a bit about Alan Turing. In college, I had professors praise him for being the ��Founder of Modern Computing”, cracking Nazi code, and also for being an advocate for gay rights.

More details here:

Out of every prominent scientist during the Cold War Era, Alan Turing was selected to play a role in Outlast's stories. And he didn't just happen to be openly gay—JT Petty purposefully made this significant to Wernicke's character. Not to mention, Wernicke made allusions to Frankenstein, allowing us to inspect the parallels between Wernicke & the Walrider with Frankenstein & Frankenstein's monster. When it comes to gothic & queer literature, Frankenstein is on the forefront of it, and I'm confident that JT Petty would be familiar with that (since he's a writer who's well-versed in horror/gothic art).

With Frankenstein, there's this idea to create life without heterosexual means (under the impression of cis-heteronormativity). Frankenstein's monster was also a sexualized creature—supposedly a representation of the “ideal man”—described as “beautiful”. Additionally, the novel was a critique of patriarchal norms through elements of sexualities. These aren't too different from Wernicke & the Walrider. The Walrider is arguably created through homosexual means in its abstract (Wernicke & Turing). This particular version of the Walrider that possesses Billy & Miles is stated to be the “masterpiece” by Simon Peacock—its appearance is also fairly sexual. And similarly, Outlast critiques patriarchal norms through its grotesque visuals of “masculinity”.

Frankenstein queer analysis:

Frankenstein sexual suppression analysis:

With all these story elements, there's certainly a queerness about the Walrider AND Outlast, which the devs openly embrace.

There's also many parallels between Frankenstein's monster and Miles. In the United States (and westernized countries in general), there are societal standards that function around cis-heteronormativity. Think of the traditional American nuclear family: A husband/father who's the breadwinner and patriarch, a loving wife/mother who cooks and stays at home to take care of the kids—they're mostly white, Christian, and American citizens. [WARNING: TRIALS SPOILERS AHEAD] The ideal American man is further illustrated in Officer Coyle's dialogue: “If only they were upstanding citizens like myself. Pay your taxes, do your job, fuck your wife, put a little something in the plate at service. America don't ask much.” Miles is arguably the antithesis of this, which is likely the reason he doesn't have any close friends/family—he was likely rejected by society. Frankenstein's monster follows a similar arc: he is also rejected by society and seeks refuge in seclusion. (The concept of “rejection by society” is inherent in queerness.)

With these parallels, it makes sense for Miles to be the ideal host for the Walrider. Additionally, Miles embodies queerness that isn't strictly homosexual—I mean his whole background/lifestyle is already, by definition, “queer”—but questions regarding his sexuality arise when inspecting other details of his character.

My friend pointed out the whole “Manhandler Hairspray for the Active Man” detail in Miles' apartment. There are a lot of homosexual undertones in the label, and it's hard not to think otherwise. “Manhandler” and “Active” are terms which indicate the ���top” role in gay culture. I mean, it's possible that Miles is just embodying the “metrosexual” identity (basically straight men who embody characteristics associated with homosexuality) but metrosexuality is rooted in consumerism, which doesn't exactly align with Miles' character since he is openly critical of capitalism. I think the hairspray hints at queerness (or at least gender non-conformity).

Article on “metrosexuality”:

https://www.nytimes.com/2003/06/22/style/metrosexuals-come-out.html

The most revolutionary detail that my friend pointed out was the fact that Miles went out of his way to roast the ever-living shit out of everyone he came across at Mount Massive, begging the question: why is he so fixated on the appearances of other men? This could stem from his own insecurities of being rejected by society or insecurities of his own vanity (considering the hairspray he uses and the fact that he goes jogging…and if he's just trying to be healthy through exercise then he needs to explain his self-destructive alcoholism…idk…jogging for mental health? It’s open to interpretation…WAIT I mean he could just be keep up his physical fitness also with all the investigating he has to do anyways fjshshkdhd). It was just interesting that Miles was so fixated on physical appearances that it makes me wonder if he'd make similar comments about women—I don't believe he would and I'll explain below.

I know that we need to take Red Barrels' tweets with a grain of salt—they're known for deleting tweets that detail misinformation about the protagonists—but I find this tweet particularly interesting. I may be looking too much into it, especially since it's just a tweet and not presented in the games/comics, but it certainly is reflective of Red Barrels' values of respecting women and not viewing women as sexual objects, along with the notion of dismantling cis-heteropatriarchy/chivalry. It certainly doesn't mean he's not straight, but he doesn't particularly view women as sexual objects either (and I know that straight men are capable of not viewing women as sexual objects). Food for thought.

Some extra stuff:

Anti-conservatism and punk ideology (which Miles explicitly embodies) are pillars of queer culture in the political sphere.

The Germanic folklore, which the Walrider is based off of, exhibits notions of sexuality (though, probably not in the best light).

[TRIALS SPOILER] Wernicke’s dream therapy is associated with Dr. Easterman’s queerness—Easterman would be distracted by Wernicke’s handsomeness (and they both explicitly critique heterosexual relationships). Again, this supports the Walrider’s themes of sexuality.

Waylon

As for WAYLON, even though there isn't concrete evidence in the games to intentionally indicate queerness, that isn't to say he is entirely heterosexual (because assuming he's heterosexual is yet another product of the “ideal American man” image in a cis-heteronormative society, and Outlast's narratives are about dismantling this notion). In fact, now that you bring it up, I agree that Waylon can be considered on the queer spectrum/under the queer umbrella.

Regarding the “dismantling the ideal American man in a cis-heteronormative society” concept…the devs, artists, writer(s), actors, and contributors to the games' development are not only open/accepting of things outside of society's norms/expectations, but many are social activists. Chimwemwe Miller (VA for Chris Walker) is outspoken about being Black, Black history, and racism—he also narrated an audiobook which discussed racism, colonialism, & imperialism. Erika Rosenbaum (VA for Lynn Langermann) organized provisions for refugees and is active in environmental causes and feminism—she also spoke out during the #MeToo movement. Shawn Baichoo (VA for Miles, Waylon, & Blake) is also vocal about feminism/racism and was a huge advocate for his character Wrench's bisexuality from Watch Dogs 2, which became confirmed in a later installment of the Watch Dogs franchise.

I bring this up because Red Barrels actually entertains the idea of Waylon x Eddie (in the hypothetical that Eddie wasn't an antagonist like he was in the game…so like, erasing his problematic features baha…this deserves an analysis of its own) without mentioning sexuality or anything like that. Obviously, this can be seen as a way to entertain the fanbase, but I think it's worth mentioning that Waylon isn't opposed to homosexuality. After all, Waylon never makes homophobic remarks in his notes nor comments on male sexuality—he's just fearful of being assaulted (as anyone would be, regardless of gender/sexuality). He would, in fact, engage in a homosexual relationship according to this hypothetical.

(Note: the term “insane” is a harmful descriptor in this context, which is why I wrote “wasn’t an antagonist like he was in the game”)

So yea! I definitely think there's queerness with Waylon's character. And I don't exactly mean this to be “representation” because there's a lot of responsibility that comes with that, but ultimately I think it adds to what the franchise and the devs are trying to do—normalize queerness and dismantle the notion of the “ideal American man in a cis-heteronormative society” (and if you've studied socioeconomics/social theory, you know that this notion is a product of capitalism, which is another important theme in the franchise).

Here are some resources about the intersectionalities of cis-heteropatriarchy, capitalism, & queerness if you'd like to read more about it :)

(this one below is quite lengthy, but goes VERY DEEP)

All in all, my interpretation is that the franchise operates on the idea that “queerness” is normal or innate, but social structures are what label it otherwise. I've seen a lot of discussion surrounding Outlast characters' queerness, and it's interesting to me that the antagonists' sexualities get more attention amongst casual players than the protagonists' sexualities (and I think I can understand why, it's just a lot to unpack).

Just as many of the antagonists can be read as queer, the protagonists should arguably be read through the same lens. I truly do think Miles and Waylon (and even Lynn and Blake!) deserve to be inspected under queer lens. Doing so aligns with the franchise's philosophy/narratives. Also the idea of “queer characters taking down capitalism” is super empowering (and actually very identifiable hehe).

(Sorry, I think I projected a lot of my own personal values and biases into this post LOL hhhjdsfh feel free to critique anything I've written!)

This is my first time inspecting Waylon through a queer lens, so thank you for the ask!! I had a lot of fun writing this up :D

[vincess-princess]

war?

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

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

Chapter 1/?

Word count: 8059

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, I haven’t even said anything!”

“I know you well enough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There ain’t nothing there!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, that was getting ridiculous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s something ahead.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So no?” Nikki frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep, seems trustworthy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The cracking sound from the other corner distracted them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He received only confused mumbling in response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh god, please let it be just the same.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

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

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

[nightswithkookmin]

Hi! Goldy, do you know why are jikookers making such a big deal out of jk saying “I’m hyung ‘s copy cat”. I’m I missing something here , why is everyone acting like they just confessed their love , if anything vmin were more sus 😂

Lol shippers...

We are like a bunch of boohbahs on crack every day. We get excited over everything and anything- which I think is the point of shipping though. Lol.

Not sure what you are missing as I haven't seen the show in its entirety yet...

But off the top of my head, I'd say it's probably because of the blushing and the whole Kook's ear turning red bit when JM was addressing him about copying him.

He did the same thing in the Be.TS Vlive when Jimin put him on the spot about posting on his birthday. Jimin makes him shy

It's been several years and Jimin still has an effect on him. I think it's cute.

Also, the bit about them confessing...

You actually not wrong. Lol.

JM used to say JK copies him because JK liked him and so JK would deny that all the time. To accept that he was imitating JM would mean he was admitting he liked Jimin- that he thought Jimin was cool, had impeccable style yadda yadda.

Jimin might as well had asked JK to confess he liked him.

They both had a habit of trying to get the other to confess their feelings for them in the past.

JM: I am Army.

JK: Do you like me that much?

JM: I had blue eyes first.

JK: No. Mine is bluer

JM: Stop imitating me.

Do you like me that much?

Jk: No

It was their way of flirting. So I guess in effect, in admiting he imitates JM, Jimin sort of got JK to officially admit he likes him🤷🏽‍♀️

'Do you like me?'

'Do you?'

'Do you?'

And he acted so innocent about it too.

This man! Lol

That innocent pout afterwards my God. Lmho.

There's just a lot of history between those two. A lot, and it's nice to see them remind eachother of that.

And I think it's the history and memories, the nolstagia he evoked in JK with that comment that had JK blushing hard especially if he read double meaning in that request.

From, his reaction I'd say he did.

All these double entendres chilee.

Its intriguing JK had such a strong reaction to something seemingly less intense or even cringe. That comment was supposed to be a safe bet. The safest conversation JM could have with Kook in front of new audience to not make things awkward in the room and yet...

There's no hope for JK. Dude is gone. Bid him farewell to gay boulevard🤧

Jimin was like why are you blushing it's nothing heavy or something like that and that reminded me again of that whole, 'did I scold you" bit from New Jersey.

Jimin had a strong reaction to what JK deemed a trivial issue- Which I gotta smirk at. Smirk.

It's interesting that of all the things he could ask Jk, this is what he chose to ask him. I think he genuinely believed it was a safer conversation to have- Y'all think VMin was wilding, wait till you meet the Jikooknims.

Imagine if JK had said what V said to JM or if JM had said that to JM. Imagine that...

I mean I get it, if they are going to be regulars on traditional SK media now, they have to be able to interact 'normally' within the group without the members or eachother panicking and acting like Jikook be spelling the nuclear codes with their butts.

We've discussed the gradual shift in BigHit's marketing model but it seems with all the Asian hate crimes, racism, stigmatization of Asians and Asian Americans in the wake of the pandemic, it's become imperative that they redirect their focus and attention to SK to solidify their presence and hold in their home market.

I'm afraid we might be seeing a shift towards the company pandering to their roots and adhering to traditional media practices with mostly one foot in the international market, and one foot in their home market.

And if that's the case, Jikook would have to be able to tether the line of their closet without making things awkward for eachother and the members lest they risk exposing themselves to the gay hateration and criticism rampant in Korea.

Bang PD have made it perfectly clear, he is not about the risk taking life. That he prefers as a company to play things safe- I wonder if he's stance on that has changed in recent times.

But I don't think when it comes to it, he'd risk it for them. He's not gonna shove their alternative lifestyle in conservative spaces like that. Chilee.

Anywho, Jimin likes to rile JK up and watch him squirm sometimes but naa I don't think that was the agenda this time around...

Then there was this bit also

Which I think my guy spilled right there😏

I've been saying for the longest time BigHit staff take stock in the Jikook business. There you have it.

They style Jikook. They style BTS. So all the times they've appeared in couple outfits, matching shoes, complimentary hairstyles, all the time they deliberately cut from JK to Jimin or Jimin to JK, all the times they've paired Jikook up, isolated them from the group so Jikook can give them a moment-

When I say BigHit is intentional in the way they brand Jikook within the group and in the way they push those two not as friends but as a 'couple'

And because of this people scream Jikook is fan service blah blah nonsense.

But the question have always been, why does these two grown ass men go along with it. Do they not know what it means when of all seven they are the two that are constantly marketed as 'lovers?" They are not twins, neither are they twelve and so why the need to match their fits?

And how come none of them object to this?

Why don't they ask questions???

Bet. Bet there's a reason for that.

As for Vmin all I have to say is...

Tae Kook who? Tae Kook WHERE?!

Lmho. Vmin, TaeJin, (Tae kook) VHope, Taegi

In that particular order for Tae's ships. The last three are fluid with Tae Kook alternating anywhere from 3rd to the last position lol.

I saw their shippers bust out their go to, 'Tae was being sarcastic" he hates Jimin rhetoric - like

GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.

Tae talks some strong Vmin agenda.

We been knew. We been said it

He flirts Jimin hard to gay proportions too.

'In love with my Soulmate- a memoir written by Kim Taehyung. Coming soon to a bookshop near you. Lmho.

If Jimin catches feelings for Tae one day it's game over for us all🤣🤣🤣🤣

'We need to stop. This game is dangerous.'

Then he proceeds to gulp on top of it 🤣🤣

Reminds me of when JK was asked if Jimin wasn't his style and JK was fumbling and Jimin said, cut the cameras. Deadass. Lol

'Jk don't answer that' 🤭

Why shouldn't he answer that?

Jimin is a funny guy. A funny gay guy🤭

And did y'all see how hard Yoongi screamed when Tae said that?

Lolololololololololololololololololololololololol

Tae doesn't need to convince me he has feelings for Jimin. I'm convinced all by myself 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

And is it me or did Tae look like he didn't believe Jimin when JM said he liked him too??🤔

I can't wait to watch the whole thing.

I love their relationship. I hate when people invalidate it. VMin does not invalidate Jikook nor does Jikook invalidate VMin or even Tae Kook. They all are, unique and they are beautiful me thinks.

They ought not be compared in this way but celebrated.

It's not a competition.

Talk of celebrating ships, did you see Tae and Kook too??? 🤭🤭🤭🤭

I love seeing them in a good place in their dynamic like this.

It's the look he shot JK when the envelope ended up infront of him for me😂

Tae is hilarious I swear! Lmho.

I kinda lowkey wished it was for him I won't lie.

It's the same energy as when JK grabbed his neck and said he wanted to ride in the car with Tae. (If those subs were correct. Can't trust any unofficial subs on any Tuktuk moment💀)

Tae was like 👀 waeyo? Lmho.

I'm off to ship Tae Kook and VMin.

Keep your eyes on the gays for me.

Bye🤣

💜💜💜💜

Signed,

GOLDY

[quietlyimplode]

Hi! Could you write a “you’re home. you’re safe” fic with Clint/Natasha/Laura please? Thank you :)

OK so this is technically cheating as both an answer to an ask and a fill for the @fyeahclintnatlaura promptathon for @aurorashard‘s ask of “A trip to the zoo” . Thanks @paperairplanesopenwindows for checking in after a shitty day/night, i appreciate you heaps. 

————-

Saint Louis Zoo isn’t the best Zoo Natasha has been to, but then again, she’s never been to the Zoo with three kids and Clint and Laura. 

It’s nice. 

It’s different. 

She’s hyper vigilant in a different way and admires Laura immensely for seemingly having eyes in the back of her head and a sixth sense for where they are at all times. Clint has Nate strapped to his chest, the baby sleeping soundly and Lila takes Natasha’s hand as they walk through the gates. 

Cooper side eyes the interaction and Natasha swears that she see’s jealousy pass through his eyes. She gives him a little smile and bumps into him deliberately. Cooper smiles back at her and walks a couple of strides ahead, acknowledged and seen. Laura smiles at her family and knows this was just what they all needed after being in the house too long. 

“Pick an animal.” Laura says to Cooper, pausing and opening the map. 

“Umm. I don’t know.” He says noncommittally. 

“Any animal.” She prompts, “It’s going to be our get lost spot.” 

Cooper thinks, and looks to his left seeing a sign for elephants. He smiles and points. “Elephants.” Clint smiles with him. Elephants are Natasha’s favourite, and Cooper knows this, having drawn them for her since he was 3. 

“Ok. Anyone gets lost, or separated, we all meet at the elephants.” Laura stretches and checks on Nate, who’s still sleeping despite the sunshine. Laura motions for Clint to turn around, and gets his baby hat from his backpack, and plonks it on his head. 

“Ice cream?” Clint points to the shop as Natasha motions for the map from Laura. 

“There’s a train,” she realises, “theres a train running through the Zoo?” Clint laughs at her wonder, realising she’s never been to a Zoo like this before. Laura nods and points to some of the animals she’s seen here before, Lila looking over their shoulders. 

Clint and Cooper move to the shop and pick out their ice cream as Laura shakes her head. 

“You know it’s like 10am?” Clint shrugs, and Laura laughs. 

“Get me a mint chocolate one,” she requests. 

Cooper groans. “That’s gross mum, it’s like brushing your teeth with chocolate.” 

Laura shakes her head. “I don’t make fun of your flavours.”

“That’s cause they’re not gross.” Cooper mutters. They order and move to the front of the shop. Natasha can see the frustration on Lila’s face, as they head into the sunshine. 

“You ok?” She whispers. 

Lila nods, “I just want to see it all before it closes.” 

Natasha grins. “It’s 10am, we have plenty of time.” She assures her. “What do you want to see first?” 

“Big cats.” Lila says decisively. Natasha looks at the map, plotting a course and then passes the map to Cooper. 

“What about you?” 

“Elephants? Rhinos?” Natasha huffs a laugh. Of course they do. Animals at opposite ends of the park. 

Clint pinches the map from Cooper, “No one wants to see the birds? Hawks? Eagles?” Clint looks down the key of the map and then hands it back to Natasha. “Never mind.” He says, forlornly, "They don’t have hawks here.”

Laura can’t help but laugh out loud at his sadness, “How about the bears?” Natasha nods, and makes a plan in her head of the routes to take. 

“Yeah, good.” Natasha points and makes them go left, “ok, polar bears, birds and then cats and then we finish off with the big animals, elephants, big bears, rhinos. Sound like a plan?” 

She takes the quiet assent as agreeance and takes Lila’s hand and walks to towards the polar bears. 

.

“Aunty Nat, did you know that Cheetah’s live for around 12 years?” Natasha shakes her head. “Yeah, and, they’re the fastest animal in the world!” 

Clint shakes his head, “Wrong kiddo, they’re the fastest land animal, not the fastest animal.” 

Cooper screws up his face and rolls his eyes.“She knew what I meant.” He mutters. 

Laura smiles at the exchange, holding a now awake Nate outwards so he can see what’s going on. Lila making faces at him making Nate grin and swipe at her face. 

Natasha places her hands on Cooper’s shoulders and whispers “I knew what you meant.” 

He glances up at her and smiles and then looking to his father he rolls his eyes. Clint laughs and offers them some chips as a peace offering. Natasha takes them, and wipes her hands on his shirt. 

“Thanks.” They say simultaneously. 

Natasha looks out at the animals and feels her stomach drop. 

Standing in front of Cooper, she nudges Clint. Laura looks up, and sees the change in both their demeanours, eyes crinkling at the sudden shift in mood. 

“Bogdani.” Natasha whispers. 

There’s a man in a suit with a child on his shoulders. They’re pointing to the lion that they just passed. It seems that the arms dealer has not noticed the Black Widow or Hawkeye of Shield in his vicinity. 

But Natasha has. 

She still feels where he broke her wrist in a very unfair fight over nuclear codes. She feels her breath quicken. 

“We need to leave,” she says to Clint. “Now.”

Clint moves to redirect the Cooper and Lila, and Natasha whispers in Laura’s ear; linking her arm. 

“Let’s go.” Clint says to Cooper. “I’m hungry.” 

Cooper looks at him strangely, and then notices Natasha’s straight face and Laura’s worried one. 

“Ok Dad.” He says quietly, knowing something is amiss. 

Lila is not so observant, pouting when she realises they’re missing animals, they haven’t finished their plan of seeing the elephants and the rest of the Zoo. 

“But Dad..” She starts. 

Natasha squats next to her. “Lila, we need to go now.”“

But why?” Comes the inevitable response. 

Natasha sighs, feeling horrible that it’s her, again, that stops these kids from being kids and having fun. That they can’t even go to the Zoo without something happening and her ruining it. 

“I don’t feel well.” She lies.

Lila looks her over, suspicion running over her face. 

“But..” 

"Lila.” Laura says, passing her hat, hoping to cover her face. 

“It’s time to go.”Lila screws up her face unsure of what’s happening. 

“Ok.” She concedes. 

Laura leads the two assassins and the two children whilst holding onto the third back to the car. Clint breaks off and circles round to keep tabs on the arms dealer. The silence that now flows over the group follows them to the car and the once happy outing has turned sour. 

“What do you think…” Laura shoots Clint a looks and he shuts up. The ride home is silent. Cooper puts his headphones in and Lila stares out the window, both showing their displeasure at having to leave halfway through the day. 

When they get home, Lila slams the door and Cooper wanders into the barn. Clint, Natasha and Laura stand at the car debriefing. 

“Why was he here?” Laura demands. 

“I don’t know.” Clint responds, pinching his nose. 

“Do you think he saw us?” Natasha wonders out loud. Clint shakes his head. 

“No? I don’t think so?” 

“So, coincidence?” Laura asks, hopefully. 

Natasha huffs a laugh. “Unlikely.” 

Clint sighs. “How do you feel about visiting your mum for a couple of days?” He asks Laura quietly. 

“Honestly? Pissed.” Natasha nods, understanding written on her face. This was supposed to be their time together. 

Nate grumbles in the carseat and Laura pulls him out. “Shhhh,” she coddles Nate, “You’re home. You’re safe.” She throws a look to her wayward assassins.

“You have to tell the kids.” She tells them, moving into the house to pack some clothes and ring her parents. 

Clint looks to Natasha. “One each?” Natasha shakes her head and sighs. 

“Fine.”Clint beelines for the barn and Natasha heads for Lila’s room. She knocks softly and waits for a reply. 

“I’m sorry, bug.” She says through the door. 

The door cracks open. 

“You can come in.” Lila says and Natasha opens it wider. 

“I’m sorry,” Natasha says again, standing at the door.

“We didn’t get to see the Elephants.” 

“I know.” 

“They’re your favourite.” 

Lila looks up at Natasha. Sad eyes meet sad eyes. 

“You’re leaving now aren’t you?” Lila asks, intuitively. Natasha sits on the bed next to her. 

“No bug, you are, you're visiting your Nana.” Lila pouts. 

“I don’t want to. I want to stay with you and mum, and Dad.”

“I know. I’ll be here when you get back though.” 

Lila looks up hopefully. “You promise?” Natasha nods, and pulls her into a hug. 

“I really am sorry.” 

Lila nods tears in her eyes, but holding it together, disappointment oozing from both of them of their ruined day. 

.

[selene-tempest]

I just woke up from a dream and I'm not happy. You know as well as I do that you cannot mix my husband and a social situation, it's not a good thing , it's gonna end in disaster. It did here too.

In my dream I had to leave a social occasion (which I do believe was some kind of vlogger/ film festival) because I had an emergency, and promised to be right back as soon as I could.

Upon returning a few dream hours later darling husband was nowhere to be seen, one darling brother-in-law was trying to fix someone's broken tripod (yes I'm looking at you, Virgil) another was in the middle of an interview (seriously Gordon?) and another was standing off to the side, glaring.

I went over to see why said darling brother-in-law/best friend was glaring and to ask where the darling husband was.

Me: Why are you pissy? And Where's John?

Scott : Shit, you're back!

Me: That's a suspicious greeting right there. Why shouldn't I be back?

Scott : *shiftily * No reason

Me: *narrows eyes* Where's John?

Scott : Why don't we go and get a drink? Cat, shall we get a drink with Sel?

Me: I don't want a drink and I don't trust you. What's going on? Did something happen?

Scott : No…

Me: *hands on hips* Spill it!

Scott : One of his old college buddies is here, they are covering the event for a magazine.

Me: What's the problem with that? *shifty Scott is a thing again* Where is he?

Scott : You don't wanna go ov-

Me: *death stare*

Scott : *wilts and points*

Me: *stomps over to see some blonde hussy in a halter top straining over obviously enhanced jugs, snuggle so close to my man she's practically straddling him and she's taking pictures and selfies, he is doing absolutely nothing about it because this appears to be his college buddy.

Me: *glare goes nuclear as it targets this bleached interloper before I force a sweet smile on my face and turn to darling husband: Hi, can you possibly spare me a moment? *me, sarcastic and passive aggressive? Never!*

Her, the bleached one with the boobs: Do you mind? We're trying to have a private conversation here, neither of us have any time to deal with fans. Honestly, we can't enjoy ourselves anywhere these days.

John: No, it's OK this-

B+B(bleach and boobs) : No, you're off duty, don't let them pressure you into giving them time by making you feel guilty, you don't owe them anything.

Me: I think you're misunderstanding, I'm not looking for a-

B+B: No, you're misunderstanding, can't you see that we're busy and that you need to go away? *drops a possessive, red clawed hand on his shoulder and leans closer.*

John: *clearly stuck between not wanting to offend his friend but also waiting for me to explode and take her down. He gets the one eyebrow raise of impending doom warning* Maddie, its fine, this is-

B+B: *puts a finger to his lips to silence him then glares at me* You're interrupting, go away.

Me: *dream me is apparently a lot more chilled than awake me, because dream me just snaps out* Fine, I guess I'll leave you alone then.

Me: *stomps off* I need a freaking drink!

Cat: *hurries over * Did you kill her? Did you save him?

Me: *glances over at the clinging vine my not-so-darling husband seems to have acquired* Let him perish. I'm getting a drink, are you in or out?

Cat: In! *trots after me*

Me: *is searching out one, very specific drink* ha! Got it. *enters the bar and orders a blue and red mix vodka slushie (I don't even know if this is a thing in the real world but it soooo should be)*

Cat: *is not brave enough to order the same, gets a vodka and diet coke, the wimp*

Me: *gulps down three large slurps on my straw, immediately gets brain freeze, isn't sure if that's preferable really*

Cat: *leaving me to it to scroll on her phone*

Me: *brain slightly defrosted* So, who's the bitch?

Cat: Madeline Carmichael-Parks (dream me makes up the best names apparently) went to college with Penny and John.

Me: *huffs at her stupid name* I don't trust people with two names.

Cat: Creighton-ward?

Me: *scowls* she's on the list of people I'm keeping my eye on (I have no idea what I'm talking about here)

Cat: I won't tell her you said tha- oh…

Me: *instantly suspicious* Oh, what?

Cat: Nothing *tries to hide her phone*

Me: Spill it!

Cat: *sighs and turns her phone to show Instagram and the bleached with boobs trollop snuggled faaarrrr too closely to my never-going-to-be-darling-again husband. The caption reads "My gorgeous date and I are enjoying ourselves at the vloggies" Urge to kill, rising*

Me: Right.

Cat: I'm sure it's nothing, you know it's noth-

Ted flap further down the bar opens, a familiar redhead ducks in, I immediately grab my drink and leave. Not in the mood for this shit apparently. I stomp my way down the street, weaving between festival goers. I have no idea if I left Cat behind, if she's following, if she got caught by said redhead, it's every woman for herself right now.

Random Brunette: Hey, sweetie, you OK?

Me: Yep

Random redhead friend : You don't look it.

Me: I'm fine. I just came back to find my husband being groped by another woman.

Girls gasp: He's cheating on you?!

Me: *snorts and slurps rapidly melting drink* Nah, he'd never do that, and my best friend would never allow it even if he wanted to, which he wouldn't.

Girls: *stunned silence, clearly confused*

Me: *sucks madly on the straw* She was all over him, I was polite, she wasn't. Girl code.

Girls: *both nod, totally understanding*

Me: He didn't stop her, so now I'm pissed at him.

Girls: *nod again*

Me: Then she shared a selfie and called him her date.

Girls: *gasps all round*

Me: It was leave to get a drink or murder, those were my choices.

Girls: *sees empty drink in my hand*

Me: I did not choose death this day. *finds drink empty, knows it's probably not safe to go back for another, pouts mildly for a second before deciding a slice of pizza might be better* Yeah, I'm off, later ladies.

Girls wave goodbye. I continue my stomping towards a pizza stall ( there seems to be a lot of food in this dream, maybe I was hungry).

Arms grab me from behind. I scream. Three dudes turn around to see if I'm OK.

John: *patiently* Stop screaming, Sel.

Me: No. *screams again just to be petulant*

Dude 1: Is this guy bothering you?

Me: Yes, he's my husband and he's an idiot who is trying to be cute and adorable when I'm angry at him.

John: *snigger quietly, which was a bad move.*

Dude 2: Want me to kick his ass?

Me: No, I can do that myself.

John : *clearly rolling his eyes behind my back* Whatever you're thinking happened you know it didn't.

Dude Three: *cracks knuckles*

Me: So I didn't see some blown up Barbie hanging all over you, being rude to me and claiming you as her own?

Dudes: *all wince and suck air through their teeth in sympathy, for who I don't know.*

John: I tried to tell her I was married but she never listens and-

Dude Three: Not helping yourself here, my man.

Dude Two: You don't admit to cheating, that's just stupid.

Me: *suddenly defensive of dumbass husband * Hey! Who said anything about cheating? He'd never do that, I was pissed off that a socialite with the IQ of a bean sprout judged me and dismissed me away from my own husband and this idiot did sod all about it.

John : I was about to, but you always tell me you can fight your own battles and I didn't want to undermine you. *hugs me tighter because he totally knows he's getting away with this. Unfortunately I know it too.*

Me: *smacks at his hand* Go away, I'm mad at you and I'm staying mad.

John : No you're not *kisses my neck*

Me: Yes I am. *promptly forces myself to wake up because I I'm that damned stubborn and I will have the last word *

I woke up to dumbass husband snuggled up to my back, snoring lightly in my ear, all innocent and unaware of just what his dream self was putting me through. How dare he!

So I got out of bed and stole his dressing gown, went to the kitchen and bitched to Virgil about my dream. He was very unsympathetic quite honestly and undeserving of the coffee I made him.

John woke up an hour later but I'm still not talking to him. He has no idea what he's done.

Virgil told him he pissed me off in my dream and John just looked at me with a very judging look in his eyes like I was totally mad.

I'm still waiting for an apology…

[whyqueerbaitingisbad]

movies & shows

cracks knuckles* alright this is going to be more of a rant than an analysis because i’m basing this on both my research, but also how it felt to personally be baited by these shows. there are obviously more pieces of bad (almost every horror movie) and good ones but these are the ones i’ve watched.

please keep in mind that i am but one queer and everyone has different opinions.

Supernatural (CW) 2005

This show is 15 years old and just ended. From season 5 till 15, there has been tension between two of the lead characters. They were constantly shipped together and not only did the entire fandom know about this ship but so did almost all of Tumblr. On top of that, the actors and show runners knew about it as well. Which is why it makes it ridiculous that it was constantly pushed aside while the romantic coding  kept happening, even after show runners dismissed it as being intentional. The Destiel (Dean x Cas) case has been going on for years, and as the show came to its end, many fans had hope. But N O P E. Instead, we got a love confession from Cas where Dean looked like he was near constipated and the Cas was killed and sent into a fiery place that was not hell but s u p e r  h e l l.

… w hy.

Sherlock (BBC) 2010

Just like Supernatural, this show was renown on Tumblr for not only how good it was, but its hinting at a potential relationship between Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. But again, like Supernatural, the intentional tension between the two characters was denied by producers. This caused an uproar within the fandom, and even left some people believing that, after the last season aired, it had been a joke and the producers were hiding a “secret, unaired season” because they had felt so robbed by this show that had implied something and denied it.

The 100 (CW) 2014

We got lesbians. We got background gays. We were happy. Then, all of a sudden, one of them is killed for no reason. Did it advance the plot? No. Was she fighting and died in battle? lol no. She was doing literally nothing and got shot and died. And then the producers kept bringing her back once a season in the form of a ghost or illusion because why? Because she was a fan favourite queer character. ✨bury your gays and sparingly bring them back for profit anyone?✨

Voltron: Legendary Defender (Netflix) 2016

*deep breathe* This one is a special disaster. Not only was there romantic tension and romantically coded scenes for 7 seasons, but producers, voice actors and artists working on the show repeatedly said “don’t worry klance (Keith x Lance) shippers, you’ll be happy”

. … w h e r e??? You code one of their scenes with a sunset in the background while they talk about love and then one of them goes on a date with someone who has declined his advances for 7 seasons but now in season 8 decides to do a full 180. Not only that, but you announce at a Comic Con (a convention) that a character is gay and has a fiancé, only to kill off the fiancé and never make it explicit in the show except at the last second of the last episode where he marries a no name character. 

Personally, i’d like to say a big fuck you to the show that strung me along for 2 years and never stopped saying we’d be happy to then pull the rug out from under us and call us crazy for thinking anything from the past 8 seasons was intentional.

Scooby-Doo (2002) 

While not being outwardly queerbaiting, this movie’s filmmaker has just revealed some shocking news, which wasn’t at all shocking to the gays who had watched this movie over the years. In July of 2020, James Gunn, the filmmaker of Scooby-Doo, revealed in a podcast that, initially, Velma was explicitly gay in his script, but then the studio watered it down until it became nothing. This isn’t an example of baiting as much as it is changing a character’s initial design to “better fit an audience”. The worst part of all this is that with Velma’s character having been written with a l i t t l e queer subtext, people had been theorizing about if since the movie came out, but were always yelled at by the internet for “imagining something that isn’t there”. But now, even with it being said that the initial point was for her to be gay, people have no objections to still refusing to accept it. Why?? So we can’t get the subtext gays OR the confirmed gays?? Make it make sense.

Brooklyn 99 (NBC) 2013

To have the queer characters firstly introduced without mentioning their sexualities and have it brought up naturally was so goddamn nice to see, because no one does a big deal about it unless they ask for that. This show is amazing in general but the way they show their queer characters is *chefs kiss*.

She-ra and the Princesses of Power (Netflix) 2018

This. Show. My heart SOARS. It's just a remake of an old show so absolutely nothing was ever expected, but then it was sprinkled in and ENDED WITH A BANG. And it was so beautiful and real to see the struggle of two friends who care for each other and want to be together but have different visions of the world fall in love. And they also had characters with disabilities, a non-binary character and jUST SUCH A GOOD SHOW.

Kipo and The Age of Wonderbeasts (Netflix) 2020

This is a case where you go into it not expecting anything and are BLOWN AWAY by the bare minimum. And not because it’s bad!! It's mind blowing because this is the simple representation we need!! Not something over the top, but an every day relationship. It’s just two boys falling in love and going on dates and being nervous around each other, yet i was so stunned. Because it’s not shown enough. I should not be this excited over something that should be this normal. 10/10 though this show is so good for all kinds of representation.

Steven Universe (Cartoon Network) 2013

This show did so much for queer representation with its general message of loving everyone and loving who you want. Especially since it was aired on Cartoon Network, a channel for kids, it was able to help normalize something so looked down upon in some circles. It made it easy to watch for s o m e people because it's a cartoon but it's so beautiful to see these ladies so in love with each other, both platonically and romantically and we see them have a family dynamic that isn’t a “nuclear family”. Rebecca Sugar (creator) really said “lemme just break all stereotypes real quick”.

Adventure Time (Cartoon Network) 2010

It's the “knowing a fanbase shipped something so hard that the creators made it canon” for me. This relationship had been theorized by fans for years, but it had never been explicit in the show. When the finale episode came out and the two shared a kiss, it was a moment of celebration. The producer of the show said that it had not really been planned but when the episode was being made, the choice of what happened was given to one of the artists (bless your soul Hanna K. Nyströmthe). And as the show releases little bonus episodes, its latest was centered around Marceline and Bubblegum and their relationship. AND WE LOVE TO SEE OUR DOMESTIC LESBIANS BEING HAPPY AND IN LOVE.

Yuri on Ice!!! (anime) 2016

The fact that an A N I M E gave us a love story between two men is mind boggling and it makes me so happy!! Especially because it's a Japanese show and they’re very conservative about these things just makes it more emotional. The creators said they wanted to make the anime take place in a world where gay/straight isn’t a thing, it’s just love (ladies, you’re going to make me cry). So as the weekly episodes came out and fans start speculating, THEY GAVE US THE LAST FEW EPISODES FULL OF ROMANCE AND EMOTIONAL SCENES BETWEEN THE TWO AND THEN THEY GET R I N GS?!???!! You watch for the figure skating, you stay for the figure skaters that are in love.

Shadowhunters (Freeform) 2016

*insert me being frustrated that the actors are straight so we can move on from that disappointment*

This show really said “let’s name a whole episode after this couple because they deserve it”. But seriously, they gave us two characters whose entire plot does not center around their sexualities while still showing us the differences in a relationship between someone experienced and someone new at this. They were both powerful and amazing characters apart from each other, with their own story lines and goals but they loved each other so much omgs. SO MUCH. 

It was so great to watch.

Love, Simon (2018) 

There’s a lot of disagreement on whether this movie is good representation or not. However, we need to take into consideration that this was Hollywood’s first movie with a main character that was gay, where the story’s focus was on Simon’s love story. The biggest problem, for me at least, was that the actor playing Simon is a straight man and not queer. My problem is not with him, but the fact that there are other actors that are gay and that could have played Simon just as well. (the love interested was however played by a queer actor so ✨progress✨)

All in all, this movie does represent what a lot of queer kids have to go through: being outed at school, how they then come out, the bullying and doubt they go through.

The book is also really good.

Call Me By Your Name (2018)

This movie is so aesthetically pleasing and was able to capture the confusion and heartbreak felt by a boy who’s struggling with his own feelings towards a man. His inner conflict and joy and l o v e he feels but doesn’t know how to deal with is so well communicated through the screen and just breaks your heart because it feels so real.

But again, they could’ve gotten gay actors to play gay characters…

through having this list here, i want to show you that it’s not hard for creators to give good queer representation. the LGBTQ+ community isn’t asking for much, we just want to be well represented on screen as just a regular character, not some token queer kid there for the diversity points. having been exposed to so much queerbaiting and just not seeing any representation on screen, i always get over-excited when i see a queer character, and that’s not how it should be. it should be a normal thing, something you can find in most pieces of media, just like there’s a straight white cisgender person in everything.

and they seriously need to start casting queer actors for queer characters...

[mitsdriveswhere]

The Chaco Canyon One

I don’t know if I’ve ever had a near death experience. From the name itself, I would imagine it to be something abrupt, something terrifying, something that you would realize immediately. I would imagine this fear because you came to the rapid understanding that you were, in fact, about to die imminently. That would be my understanding of what it would mean to have a ‘near death experience’. And it would be my understanding that kind of experience would be something like a serious car accident, a violent altercation, maybe a medical emergency.

But what about other experiences, where you came to the understanding that your death was simply inevitable, but perhaps not imminent? Not to be morbid, but perhaps you were stuck underground from a cave-in, or under a boat that had capsized - only to be snatched from your circumstances before anything became too perilous. I would argue those to be ‘near death experiences’ as well.

I wouldn’t be so vain as to put my experiences in either one of these categories personally, because in hindsight I know that I had a good chance of survival. So I’ll call it what my sister coined a ‘death-adjacent experience.’ An experience that if something had gone wrong, you’d be well on your way to the kind of experience one could call near death or death.

As most of my stories worth telling start, I was doing something stupid.

I was a few miles outside of Cuba, New Mexico, with a GPS that was trying its hardest to take me down every back road as I was trying to find a gas station. It had been raining the night before, and it was still pretty gloomy. I should have taken that as a sign to not do what I was doing, but I was pumped full of the finest young adult confidence and I continued to drive to the next destination my GPS swore was a gas station. Finally, I found a gas station that my GPS claimed was in the postal code of Nageezi, New Mexico and filled my tank.

I then embarked down a road I should not have gone down, nor would I ever suggest another human person to go down especially in the weather conditions I chose. But again - nuclear grade confidence over here. I went down that road as soon as my GPS told me to. It was then that I found myself on County Road 7950.

Dear reader, do not ever find yourself on County Road 7950.

7900 does not prepare you for 7950, as 7950 is an entirely washboard dirt road that makes you think your car is coming apart one screw at a time. The technical speed limit is 35, but even 20 feels like you’re going too fast from the shaking. There is no section of the road that is calmer, or less bumpy, from the start of 7950 until you reach the blessedly paved portion of the Chaco Canyon Cultural Site.

But, Chaco Canyon! That’s an amazing ruin of the Anasazi! Everyone interested in their ruins should go there! I agree wholeheartedly. It is a fantastic ruin spanning several miles, most of which is open to walk and study for the public. Of the five Anasazi ruins I’ve walked in the US, it is overshadowed only by Mesa Verde and its dozen or so cliff dwellings, temples, and kiva enclaves.

The problem is not with Chaco Canyon, but with the roads into Chaco Canyon. My GPS didn’t want to take me the least problematic route - 550 to 7900 to 7950 - but on a wild chase up literally dried up riverbeds, over side roads with cracks my car could have easily fallen into, and past what I can only describe as a murder shack, complete with a few discarded shoes and a pile of ash out front (No, I’m not joking). By the time I returned to 7950 after that strange escapade, I vowed to only follow the paper map I had bought all the way back in Cimarron.

After 45 minutes of the strange drive across the New Mexico desert, with rain beginning to come down once more, I finally saw ahead of me the paved road of Chaco Canyon. Huzza!

My first stop was what I later realized to be Gallo Campground, with its measly collection of one, maybe two cliff dwellings. I nearly blew my top at the idea that I had just taken the time to see such a thing, but got back into my car to continue down the smooth Canyon road. Next was the Chaco Canyon Observatory, not much to see aside from trailheads into the canyon. It was raining pretty hard at this point, so again I got back into my car and kept driving until I saw the sign for Chaco Canyon’s crown piece: Pueblo Bonito.

I got out of my car, unfolded my umbrella, and trekked across the entire thing. The stairs lead from the southern tip up the northeastern side, where a portion of the cliff wall has destroyed the city, but most of the ruins remain intact. I descended into the city, walked its plaza, looked into the many rooms that resemble the circular kivas atop Mesa Verde. By the time I stepped out to walk the western side, the trail had become mud.

And I, a tourist with the idea that New Mexico would be hot, was in flip flops. The Anasazi people had chosen Chaco Canyon for several reasons, but one of those reasons was that the soil there was extremely useful in the production of clay and the mortar that held their walls together. Every step felt like my straps were going to break, pounds of mud and the suction that came with it holding my feet wherever I stepped. When I did manage to find footing, it was so slippery I nearly fell several times. By the time I made it back to the cobbled path leading to the pueblo, my feet were covered in pretty red mud up to my ankles, and I was very very cold.

I rushed back to my car, pulling my only bottle of water from the side of the door and washing my feet off so I could at least drive away. I went by Pueblo del Arroya as well, and then turned to my long suffering GPS to send me to Grants, New Mexico.

At first, it wanted to take me out the way I came, from the north. Of course, I wanted to go south, in the direction of Grants and then later Albuquerque. So I took my big dumb finger and maneuvered the path south, along NM-57.

Dear reader, do not ever find yourself on NM-57.

I, like someone who was capable of learning from their mistakes, turned to my paper map to confirm the road. I followed my route, through Nageezi, down 7950, and then through Chaco Canyon. There! I found the road. Strangely, the map was calling it Service Road 14. No matter, I thought to myself like someone who wasn’t capable of learning from their mistakes, it was the same road and they both said it would let me out at the same place: Seven Lakes, New Mexico.

So, I started up the car and followed the GPS to a turn in the road, and saw a sign that said to the best of my memory: ‘Service Road 14, Conditions may be impassable.’ Hmm. Alarm bells went off, but overconfidence is a powerful thing. I was a good driver. And 7950 had been so horrible, what could possibly be worse on this road?

Ten minutes later, things got a lot worse.

I was going down 14, minding my own business, when I noticed ahead of me the tell tale signs of someone having lost control of their vehicle - a bunch of lines showing their tires going in a big circle. I took my foot off the gas and put it on the break, and got to hear a sound I wish to never hear ever again.

Cars, at least ones made after 2010, have 2 features that are usually very useful. They will try to alternate which tire is breaking when it can tell that it doesn’t have traction, and it will make a different sound when you try to turn your wheel and you have no traction.

In this instance, those two features in unison made a sound I can only describe as entirely too loud as my car slid to a halt at a forty five degree angle in the road.

Ah. Shit.

My confidence disappeared immediately as I came to the realization that when people feel the need to put up a sign that says ‘Conditions may be impassable’, they might actually mean it.

And I was going to have to take this road all the way to Seven Lakes, as Service Road 14 was entirely downhill from Chaco Canyon with no room to make a u-turn. So, I put my foot back on the gas, my hands white knuckling the steering wheel, and got up to a thrilling 5 miles an hour.

I kept driving, glancing from the road, to my GPS, to the setting sun every few feet. I had gotten to Chaco Canyon late in the day, and I was losing light quickly. I kept at it for another ten minutes before I came to the top of a small hill and had to put my breaks on so I didn’t accelerate too much.

I slid down the hill, with the back end of my vehicle slowly inching its way to the front until finally I was again at 45 degrees with the road. I pushed down a little more on the break, and I heard that sound again. My car kept moving, all the way into the ditch on the side of the road, mud kicking up to eye-level of my driver’s side window.

I sat there for about 30 seconds, weighing my options. Either I would get my car out, or I would not. I knew I didn’t have the strength to manually push it out of the ditch, let alone when the ditch was filled with mud. I spent the next two minutes turning my wheel a few degrees at a time until finally it managed to catch the slightest bit of traction and pull out of the ditch.

At this point, I was crying and trying my very hardest not to hyperventilate. I already don’t like driving in slippery conditions on account of being rear-ended on ice before, and now I was hydroplaning on mud, sun going down, with zero service, in a place I had told no one about and I had seen no one as I drove.

So I put my foot back on the gas and continued to white-knuckle my way down the worst road I had ever been on. I continued to hydroplane, going entirely perpendicular several times as I slid down the road, talking to myself to keep my breathing at least moderately normal. I came to the mantra that managed to keep me as calm as I could considering my situation.

“I’m going to get to Seven Lakes and call my mum.”

It feels weird that this was the phrase that I repeated probably a hundred times in that hour and a half slog, but it made sense in my head. I always texted my mom where I stopped for the night on my trips, and she would be expecting the text soon since the sun was almost down. If I got to Seven Lakes and called her, that meant I was somewhere safe to sleep for the night.

Finally, I came to one final crest in the hill and I saw for the first time in a long time: a paved road. I started crying harder, slowing to a stop just before my tires reached the smooth black stuff before me to look around for the sign of what road I had just come down.

On this side of the road, however, there was no sign. I had come from an unmarked, dirt road.

So, with equal parts relief and boiling rage, I hit the call button to my mum as I arrived at Seven Lakes.

I got about as far as saying, somewhat jokingly but somewhat serious, “I’m so happy to hear your voice, I just had an awful drive,” before the call dropped. I still only had one bar after all.

SHIT.

I didn’t know how far she had heard of my call, but if she heard any of it she could hear the utter exhaustion and fear in my voice. I immediately turned down the road to Crownpointe, knowing it was a bigger city and would probably have service.

Nope.

I sped towards Thoreau, now in total darkness that the sun had gone down, windshield wipers going as fast as they could. It was not until around 30 minutes later that I had enough bars to make a call.

I immediately dialed her, and was picked up on the first ring. I got the expected “Are you okay? Where are you? Do you need help? We’re ready to come get you.” (Mind you, my mum was minimum 8 hours away, with no idea where I was). I explained to her as calmly as I could that I was okay, a brief and abridged version of my journey so she didn’t worry, and that I was okay now.

Apparently, she had only heard, “I’m so happy to hear your voice,” before the call dropped, which I will probably never live down. We talked for another few minutes before she let me off if I promised to call her tomorrow morning. I continued to drive in the dark, rain pouring down, most of my visibility afforded to me by the bright lights of semis, in absolute silence.

It was not until I saw the warm glow of a Loves (the best truck stop in all of the US and yes I will fight you on that) sign in the distance - Grants, New Mexico. I immediately started crying again, the view of something familiar, a place with a shower after my long day since I was still very much so covered in sweat, tears, and dirt.

I parked, got my little toiletries bag out of the back seat, and trudged into the Loves. I waddled to the counter, looking closer to a wet rat than a person, and asked to buy a shower from the cashier in between sniffles.

She gave me that, “Um, yeah,” you give customers when they’re doing weird shit but you can’t say anything, and handed me my shower ticket. A few minutes later, my shower opened and I went in to stand underneath the water until the chill from the rain went away. I came out of the bathroom still exhausted, but at least clean.

It was still raining, so I ran out to my car. To my luck, there was a Walmart supercenter just down the road - my go-to sleeping arrangements. I quickly situated myself in the back of the parking lot, and looked around for somewhere to eat. I immediately noticed a Denny’s just across the way, whose lights were still on (I didn’t know they ran 24 hours at the time). Finally, the rain had stopped, so I ran across the parking lot and poured myself into a booth facing my car.

I remember being unusually happy to find out they serve breakfast food even this late, at 10 PM if I remember correctly, so I got chicken nuggets with hash browns. To this day, Grants, New Mexico holds a special place in my heart, and remains one of the only two places I have ever visited twice. I just can’t get that memory of my savior, Loves, coming into view out of my head.

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Rundown Job

leverage 5.09

the HEART EYES in parker and eliot’s eyes as they watch hardison crack the code of the vault is my religion

- - - - -

Hardison: Kiss for luck?

Parker: Who needs luck?

confident baby

- - - - -

(Parker begins doing elaborate moves and turns to get through the lasers, quickly reaching the far wall)

Hardison: I never get tired of that

THE HANDSHAKE BETWEEN HARDISON AND ELIOT BC THEY LOVE THEIR BADASS GIRLFRIEND

- - - - -

Parker (opens a case to reveal it is full of diamonds): Oh! Bup-bup.

(Eliot snaps at Parker to get her attention)

Hardison: Eight new schools. Okay, take care, sister Agnes. (hangs up)

(Parker closes the case and gives it to Eliot for mailing as Hardison dials the phone)

Hardison: Hey, Nate, we’re done in D.C. We’re flying back tomorrow. See you.

Parker: They’re so shiny. Couldn’t I have just kept one?

Hardison: Road to redemption, Parker. Just think how good it’s gonna feel when you get that Christmas card from those orphans. Hell, we may even get Eliot to smile.

parker deserves all the shiny things

“the road to redemption” THEY CHANGE TOGETHER

- - - - -

Riley: Why’d you quit, anyway? (pushes button again)

Eliot: Started running with some different people...

(Riley pushes button again but it doesn’t seem to be working)

Eliot: Like a hacker...

(Hardison enters room and nods. Riley pulls a gun from his drawer and shoots toward Eliot, but the gun is empty)

Eliot: And a thief.

(Parker taps on Riley’s head. He turns. She is holding the clip and a bullet from his gun)

Parker: Click. (tosses clip and bullet on table)

eliot “I started running with some different people” spencer loves his partners and I adore that with my whole (whole) heart

- - - - -

Eliot: Good night.

(Parker stuns Riley, who slumps on the desk)

I’m glad they’re enabling her tasering obsession

- - - - -

Eliot (checks his watch): I’m gonna keep her alive. You guys find a way to get her out of here.

Hardison: With what? I…

Eliot (walks away): You stole a Michelangelo with tinfoil and chewing gum. Figure it out!

eliot is like bitch please you’re smarter than this

- - - - -

the way the three of them back up to each other, covering their backs ,,,

- - - - -

Hardison: This is a violation of my constitutional rights.

Vance: You’re Alec Hardison. You cracked the Pentagon servers when you were 12. N.S.A. has a file on you a mile long.

Hardison: Do they? What do they say about me? I hope they gave me a cool nickname.

Vance: Parker here... No file on you, which is...

(Parker appears to be sleeping)

Vance: Is she asleep?

Eliot: She bores easy. What do you got on us?

hardison probably does have a cool nickname

also I LOVE how they still have no clue about parker

+

eliot being like “she bored easy” 🤷🏼‍♀️ the MARRIEDNESS

- - - - -

Hardison: Y-you’re talking about stopping a terrorist attack in an afternoon. We’d need all your intel.

Vance: That truck back at the crime scene... It’s an N.S.A. Mobile response intelligence unit–

Hardison: With the Schneier cryptography system and the j-dam satellite uplink? That... I know nothing about, ‘cause that would be treason and wrong. (to Vance) Are you for real

hardison: I wouldn’t know anything about that because that wouLd Be TrEaSoN

- - - - -

Vance: So, you grab the truck... (moves to sit by Eliot) Hell... Your girlfriend’s already out of her cuffs.

(Parker sits up holding the handcuffs and tosses them to Vance)

...they didn’t deny that parker was eliot’s girlfriend. they didn’t bother to correct him because it is, in fact, true that she is both their girlfriends. in this essay I will-

- - - - -

Agent: No, I can’t let you in the truck.

Hardison: A gigabyte gone... your job, gone.

Agent: Security clearances.

Hardison: You’re not gonna let who...

Eliot: What are we, terrorists? Okay, that was my plan was to come here, show you a real badge that I somehow got, and then bring somebody crazy to break into a secure vehicle? We’re gonna move this down the block. He’s gonna spend about an hour doing spot-checks on databases. I showed you my badge. Man, here, take my badge. (tosses it to Agent) Call it in. I got to deal with this guy

it’s funny because it’s true

- - - - -

Hardison: It’s got every database... N.S.A., CIA, FBI. It’s got hard backdoors into most commercial systems, live feeds into every security camera on the grid. Man, if this wasn’t such a gross violation of our civil liberties, I would be in love right now.

they never stop calling out the government and I’m Here For It™

- - - - -

Parker: Where do we start?

Eliot: We start with getting you two on a plane out of here. You didn’t sign up for this. Trust me.

Hardison: And you? You’re going to handle this by yourself? Come on, she’s a lady, man. She needs the right touch. What you gonna do with your big punching hands... Punch the screens? No.

Parker: We agreed we all change. Better or worse, we change together.

Eliot (after a moment): What do they got on the gunman?

ELIOT JUST WANTS HIS PARTNERS SAFE

also,,, for better or worse, we change together??? BITCH THOSE ARE WEDDING VOWS

- - - - -

Parker: Do you know why you bring a cooler full of ice to a robbery? No? I do. Everything we need to know is in that basement. I’ll drive.

Hardison: Hold on.

Eliot: Exactly.

Hardison: No, hold on. (holds on to table)

Eliot: Oh, you... oh, hell, man (sits down in chair across from Hardison. the van horn honks twice and eliot looks around, fumbling) No seat belts up in this thing- (looks at Hardison) d-do you got a seat belt?

Hardison: No, uh-uh, hold the wall (holds the wall)

eliot and hardison being exhausted boyfriends at parker’s reckless driving, I love this song

- - - - -

Parker: How do you lose track of a whole laboratory?

Eliot: There’s over 200 tons of uranium missing from the United States nuclear storage.

Hardison: The air force lost a hydrogen bomb off the coast of Georgia.

Eliot: Countries are big things, Parker. A lot of secrets slip through the cracks.

wow I love knowing these things and having to live with it

- - - - -

Hardison: The Spanish flu killed 50 million people during World War I, and now somebody’s got it. (opens door)

Parker: Look, we can do this. Just treat it like any another job.

Hardison: This isn’t just any other job.

Eliot: All right, all right. Stay focused.

Hardison: I focused! That bug in there killed 50 million people! 50! And that was when the population was lower.

Parker: Now?

Hardison: Now? 150 million people. 150 million dead. Hey, we’re thieves, man, and we’re good at what we do, but this is way, way out of our league. And you expect us to go catch some psycho with a city killer? A country killer?

Eliot: You scared?

Hardison: You’re damn right.

(Hardison turns to enter the truck but Eliot grabs his wrist, holding him back)

Eliot: I’m not. I got the best thief And the smartest guy I know chasing this guy.

(Hardison looks at Parker, but Eliot grabs his head and pulls him back)

Eliot: Hey, listen to me. You’re smartest man I’ve ever known, Hardison. I need that brain to get me to him. ‘Cause you know if I lay my hands on him, it’s done. Get me to him. (lets Hardison go)

tHe WaY hE gRaBs HaRdiSoN’S fACE

eliot knows hardison is spiraling but he also knows how to get him out of it because he knows hardison like the back of his hand and knows how to get through to him

THEY LOVE EACH OTHER

- - - - -

there are so many good ot3 shots in this episode it brings me so much joy

- - - - -

parker climbs hardison like a T R E E to turn off that detonator as eliot provides counterbalance

- - - - -

Eliot: Did it work?

Hardison: I... I don’t know. I’m trying to get the phone speaker.

Vance (on phone): Move, move, move! Get to cover! Pull everyone back to the perimeter!

Eliot: Ohh! My boy! (hugs Hardison) That is what I’m talking about!

tHe HuG, yOuR hOnOR

- - - - -

they really be playing grand theft auto in this one

- - - - -

(Udall fires toward the trio and they dive for cover. Eliot and Parker look at each other and nod. Parker looks at Hardison)

Parker: For luck.

(Parker kisses Hardison, then she and Eliot nod at each other. Parker grabs the briefcase and runs off the train while Eliot runs toward Udall. Hardison goes after Parker, and Udall shoots Eliot in the leg. Eliot reaches Udall and punches him, knocking him out. Hardison continues after Parker, who stops and opens the briefcase)

F O R L U C K

also high key the look parker and eliot share? it had the same vibes as “we do the things that they can’t, won’t”

+

parker high key kissing hardison “for luck” but also kissing him because eliot can’t

- - - - -

Hardison: Yeah. Yeah, that’ll do... that’ll do it. (he pulls her into his arms) Don’t do that to me. I can’t lose you. Do you understand? I can’t lose you. Don’t scare me like that.

Parker: Yeah.

Hardison: I can’t

he loves her so, so much

- - - - -

Vance: Promise you’ll at least consider working with us again.

Eliot: I work with them now.

Vance: Honor among thieves?

Eliot: Something like that. (walks away)

something like that,,, HE LOVES THEM, YOUR HONOR

- - - - -

Vance: World can always use some more good guys.

Parker: Yeah, well, too bad we’re the bad guys

smh, “sometimes the bad guys are the best good guys”

- - - - -

Parker: You’re shot. You should go to the hospital.

Eliot: I don’t do hospitals. (drops crutch)

Hardison: I told you. He takes getting shot very lightly

he drops his crutch to lean on parker and hardison THIS IS NOT A DRILL

- - - - -

after watching this episode, I agree with y’all wholeheartedly that this was an ot3 GOLDMINE

edit: also, notice how much is written in pink (the colorcode for ot3 notes and meta). like, more than half of it. because LITERALLY ALL OF THIS IS OT3 MATERIAL

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Keeping Me Alive

Chapter 10: Get Out Alive

by @dracusfyre​

    Now

“Save who you can,” Tony said to himself as he splashed water on his face.

He blindly grabbed for a towel and dried off, meeting his eyes in the mirror for what felt like the first time in years. “Don’t look back.” He straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, and went out into his bedroom. He picked up the photo that sat on his bedside table and took it out of the frame, tucking it into the pocket of his pants. Glancing around his bedroom, he nodded once, and went down to his workshop. He saluted the painting of Howard on the wall then dug out the photo of the Winter Soldier from his desk and set it on fire, dropping it to the concrete floor and watching it burn.

 “Ready, JARVIS?” he asked. He ground the last bit of embers into the concrete to put them out.

 “Are you ready, sir?”

 “Yep,” Tony lied. “Let’s rock and roll.”

“Let it Burn Protocol initiated.” As JARVIS spoke, Tony felt the first explosion rock the house, rumbling through his feet as he stepped into the matte black suit in the gantry in the middle of the room. The facemask closed over his face as cracks appeared in the walls of the lab, and as the ground fell away from his feet he was already in the air.

36 days ago

Once he was sure that Stane was gone for good, Tony went down to his work shop and said, “Wake up, JARVIS, we have work to do.”

Sitting down at his workstation, he opened up the master file with the suit schematics and eyed the hologram critically. The hardest part of the suit to master was going to be the flight system, so he isolated and magnified that part from the diagram, studying the repulsors built into the gauntlets and boots with stabilizers along the back. “Start machining the parts I’m going to need for these,” he said. “Circumstances have changed and we are going to need to hit the ground running, so to speak."

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS said, and the whirring of machinery became a low hum, punctuated by sharp bzzts as parts were cut and de-burred. Tony studied the prototype, exploding the diagram, moving it around, and after a while came up with a short list of non-critical design items he could spoon feed to Hydra to show his ‘enthusiastic’ cooperation. An hour later, the whirring stopped and the sudden quiet broke Tony out of his concentration. He sat up and stretched, wincing as his back popped. Standing, he went over to the coffee maker and started a new pot, then dug under the counter for his emergency stash of scotch, splashing a fingers worth in his mug while he waited for the coffee.

He had realized two very important things today. The first was that the Soldier needed saving even more than Tony did; the knowledge that the man was Hydra’s slave, kept ignorant and locked up until Hydra needed an attack dog, had shifted Tony’s world view like a kaleidoscope, shaking up everything he thought knew and making an entirely new pattern. The second was that he couldn't keep waiting around for a chance to escape, he was going to have to make one.

This suit, he knew, was the key to both of those realizations. But this half-baked, insane plan to rescue the Winter Soldier was going to kick the anthill big time and Tony also knew he needed to have some kind of plan for dealing with Hydra in the aftermath. This wasn’t going to be like Afghanistan, where he thought he was out and got pulled right back in again. The stakes were way too high this time.

With that thought in mind, when the coffee was done, he filled up his mug and went back to his desk. He pulled up the operating program for the suit and created a subroutine to overload the reactor, ignoring the flash red warning that said that this would result in a critical core breach and an uncontrolled chain reaction, and set the activation code as “Last Resort.”

One way or another, he thought as he sipped on his doctored coffee, this suit would be his way out.

  32 Days Ago

Tony stared tiredly at the news as he took a swallow of stone-cold coffee. The breaking report was about the assassination of an Iranian nuclear scientist. Iran was already blaming Israel, who was of course denying it, but in response Iran was threatening to pull out of the treaties against nuclear enrichment and swore they could split the atom within the year. Political and military analysts were seeing storm clouds on the horizon unless someone backed down and talking about how another war would tax America's already overstretched military. Tony, meanwhile, could tell that this assassination had Hydra's fingerprints all over it, and knew that this was almost certainly the work of the Soldier. "JARVIS," Tony said, muting the television. "I need you to break into Hydra’s servers and find everything you can on the Winter Soldier. Cross reference it with the name James Barnes.” There was a chance that Stane had made the name up, but it seemed unlikely – from what he could tell, the Soldier would have responded to anything, and ‘James Barnes’ was a lot more specific than a simple ‘John Smith’ or ‘Joe Blow.’ “Actually, while you’re at it,” Tony said, having a sudden thought, “I want all of Hydra’s files. Copy them to one of SI’s remote servers.”

Hours later, Tony was just finishing up the wiring assembly for the repulsor system when his computer dinged. Setting down the soldering gun, Tony rubbed his eyes tiredly and turned on his monitor to see what JARVIS had found. To his dismay, there were thousands of files on the Winter Soldier; as he scrolled down the list, he realized that they went back decades. “Fuck,” he said aloud as he looked at the dates and the file names, most of which were a string of letters and numbers that no doubt made sense to someone in Hydra but gave no clue as to what the file contained. He buried his head in his hands and tried not to cry at the enormity of the task in front of him. He was so tired that his eyes were blurry and his head was pounding, but every time he tried to close his eyes he kept seeing James’s body arching with pain and hearing his screams.

“Sir, it has been twelve hours and thirty-six minutes since you last ate,” JARVIS said. “And you’ve made four mistakes in the past fifteen minutes. You need to rest.”

“I have?” Tony pulled his magnifying glass back over to the circuit board and saw what JARVIS was talking about. “Shit. Alright, fine.” He pushed away from the desk and went to the bar sink next to the coffee pot and ran his head under cold water for a second. He came up and wiped his face and the back of his neck, shivering as water dripped from his hair down his back, and went upstairs to look for food. Leaving his work shop felt like he was crossing into hostile territory, like he could be attacked at any moment. And he could, he thought as he opened the refrigerator. Stane had made sure that he always had free access to Tony’s home, because a locked door meant secrets and the only secrets Hydra allowed were their own. He wished he could just walk away from this place, blow it up and find a place to live that Hydra had never stepped foot in, a place that would feel like it was his –

He froze with a jug of orange juice in his hand. He stood there, thoughts racing, for so long that the chiller on the refrigerator came on with a hum. Then Tony said “Huh” to the boxes of leftovers and absently shut the fridge door, OJ still in hand.

25 Days Ago

“JARVIS, this doesn’t make sense,” Tony said, rereading the file for the fifth time. “This thing is saying that the first Winter Soldier was James Barnes, but the current Winter Soldier is James Barnes.” It was hard to think that it was a clerical error, since the earliest files went back to the 1940s and consisted of paper files that had been scanned into a computer sometimes in the 80s. “Is it an alias? Are all Winter Soldiers called ‘James Barnes’ as a security precaution?”

“Facial pattern analysis indicates that it is the same James Barnes,” JARVIS said, and it flashed up an image that looked like a scanned-in polaroid; in it the man was unconscious on an operating table, face dirty and bloody and pale. Next to it JARVIS pulled up an image from Hydra’s own security footage of what the Soldier looked like without his goggles and mask on. There was a vague resemblance to Tony’s eyes, but as the facial recognition algorithm measured the features in each photograph, the conclusion was mathematically precise – there was a 99.7% chance that it was the same man in each photo.

Tony’s face went slack with shock. “How is that possible? He’d have to be almost 100 years old!”

“That part I don’t know, sir.”

“Holy shit.” Tony went back to the original file, reading it more carefully. “James Buchanan Barnes,” he read. “Born 1917. American POW.” He paused at that and sat back in his chair. “Why does that sound familiar?”

In response, JARVIS pulled up a Wikipedia page on Tony’s screen. As he read it, Tony was speechless; for a long moment, he flipped screens between the dead-eyed man from Hydra’s surveillance footage and the smiling man with his arm around Captain America, but this time he didn’t need JARVIS to tell him that it was the same man. The implications made his stomach turn, and as he stared at the screen he exhaled shakily and covered his mouth with his hands. 80 years. James Barnes had been in Hydra’s clutches for 80 years.

He stood suddenly, sending his chair rolling backwards. “We’re doing another flight test. Right now.” 80 years was already far too long, and Tony wasn't going to let it be one more day longer than it had to be.

19 Days Ago

“Tony!” Ms. Potts said with surprise. “I didn’t expect you in the office today.”

Probably because Tony had been dodging Stark Industries for a while now, only coming out of his lab long enough to get her to leave him alone before burying himself in work again. It had occurred to him as he got in his car to go to SI headquarters, blinking in the bright sunlight, that this was the first time he had been outside of the house since Stane’s forced excursion. “Yeah, I wanted to meet with you,” Tony said, shutting the door behind him.  He set a stack of papers in front of her as he sat down.

“What’s this?” She said, flipping through the papers. There was a line of confusion between her eyebrows which only deepened as she started reading them.

“I’m making you CEO of Stark Industries,” Tony said. “Effective two weeks from now. Should be an easy transition, you do most of my job anyway.” He grabbed a pin from her desk and clicked it, the sound loud in the sudden silence. “Sign on the highlighted line, please,” he added, holding the pen out to her, and despite everything he had to smile at the stunned look on her face.

  11 Days Ago

Tony put a hand on Rhodey’s arm and met his eyes, willing him to understand. “I’m saying that Afghanistan wasn’t a random attack,” he said urgently. “I think I was being targeted, and I think whoever did it might try again.” He palmed a thumb drive from his pocket and slid it across the table. In the Hydra files, JARVIS had found that a senator named Stern had been behind the Afghanistan attack, apparently trying to get Tony out of the way so that his good buddy Justin Hammer and his company Hammer Industries could take over SI's lucrative military contracts. There was all of that and more on here, just enough information that if Rhodey put all the threads together he would start getting the bigger picture. Pierce, the STRIKE teams, all of it. “If anything happens to me, I need you to finish what I’ve started.”

“Tony, if you are afraid for your life-“ Rhodey started, still looking dubious but starting to get alarmed.

“Not just me. You. Ms. Potts. Anyone I'm friends with. I can’t do anything to make these people suspicious,” Tony insisted. It was strange to feel like he was lying even though every word he’d said was true. “No unexplained bodyguards, no sudden trips, and absolutely no cops.”

“I don’t like this,” Rhodey said emphatically. “You’re asking me to sit back and wait to see if someone kills you!”

“I know what I’m doing,” Tony said. That part was a lie. He had a plan in the broadest definition of the word; mostly he was making it up as he went along and praying he could handle the fallout. “I need you to trust me.” Rhodey’s mouth was a grim line and his jaw was tight, and Tony knew he wasn’t convinced so he pulled out his trump card. “I can’t do this unless I know you are safe,” he said, lowering his voice and leaning forward. “I won’t risk you.” It took a long minute, and Rhodey looked like he was swallowing something unpleasant, but he finally nodded and put the thumb drive in his pocket. Tony exhaled and sagged with relief. “Thank you."

“When this is over, you better have a good damn explanation,” Rhodey said threateningly, and Tony barked out a humorless laugh.

“You won’t even believe me when you hear it.”

  8 Days Ago

After Tony hit save on the final design of the suit, he stumbled over to the couch and landed on it face first, exhausted. He was laying on the couch, eyes drifting shut as he went over his plan for the hundredth time trying to figure out if he’d missed anything when the lab went dark. “What the hell, JARVIS?”

“Sir, it’s been 56 hours since you last slept,” JARVIS said. “I’m turning off your systems for a minimum of twelve hours.” The light in the stairwell going up to the main floor turned on, its glow just enough to let Tony get from the couch to the door without running into anything.

Tony stayed stubbornly on the couch. “We don’t have twelve hours to waste,” he said. “Turn my power back on.”

The lights stayed off. “Sir, you are a hazard to yourself and others.” Tony scowled and wondered if he had actually programmed JARVIS like this or if he was channeling the man himself. "Also, there's nothing for you to do while I assemble the suit."

“Fine. Ten hours.”

“Ten hours," JARVIS repeated. "I will be monitoring the situation while you sleep,” he added, and Tony knew that he meant not just monitoring Stane and James, but also Tony’s vital signs to make sure he actually slept.

“You’re insufferable,” Tony accused as he made his way up the stairs.

“Yes, sir.”

 2 Days Ago

“Sir, there’s something you should see.”

Tony looked up from the fine-tuning he was doing on the suit’s shoulder-fired weapons to look at the computer screen. JARVIS had maximized the window where he was constantly monitoring Pierce’s communications and highlighted a text that had just been sent. It was to an unknown number and all it said was lvl 10, CovJer10131973 nlt 200810162200Z. The first part was clearly a target identifier and Tony knew enough about the military to recognize the latter as a date time group, set for five days from now. “Bring up the camera feed,” Tony said, and sure enough when Tony looked at the video surveillance of the room where James was kept, he could see that the lights in the room were on and a technician was already in the room powering on computers. They’d found out a while ago that what Tony had taken for a hyperbaric chamber was in fact a cryostasis chamber, which partly explained why James was almost a hundred years old but looked younger than Tony.

“Shit." Tony exhaled long and low, feeling his heart rate spike with nervousness. "How long it takes to thaw him out? Was that in his files?”

JARVIS was silent for a moment. “Evidence suggests approximately 24 hours from the time the procedure is first initiated,” he said.

“Right,” Tony said grimly, turning back to his work with a new urgency. “Guess it’s time.”

 Now

Tony flew north along the coast as his house collapsed into the Pacific Ocean behind him, throwing billowing clouds of dust and smoke into the air as carefully placed explosives reduced it to a smoking ruin. It was thrilling and terrifying to know that for all intents and purposes Tony Stark was sinking to the bottom of the ocean. He'd become a dead man after all, and now the only thing left was this suit and his mission: rescue the Winter Soldier then burn Hydra to the ground.

“Pull up James' video feed for me," Tony said as he flew. Since he was over water, he set the suit to autopilot and shifted his attention to the small window at the corner of his HUD.  James was out of the cryostasis chamber, sitting on a chair as a medical assistant appeared to be taking his vitals. Every now and then he shivered, still shirtless. Other technicians were milling around, tending to the computers, and standing guard were was two members of the STRIKE team, hands on their weapons as they kept an eye on him. His records had indicated that he was prone to ‘erratic violent outbursts,’ which Tony figured was code for “periodically tries to fight back.” Tony had actually been happy to read that, because it meant that Hydra hadn't managed to break him completely. Right now, though, James just seemed willing to numbly submit to whatever the technicians were doing, his long hair a curtain in front of his face as he stared at the floor.

“Sir, we are approaching the facility,” JARVIS said, and minimized the video. Tony flew lower to the water, navigating around the giant cargo ships at dock. Even for a twenty-four hour facility it was late, and there were only one or two ships that had people still unloading shipping containers. He landed close to the Hydra facility but out of the line of sight; he had managed to camouflage the suit to the best of his ability, but he couldn’t hide the bright lights of the repulsors so he made the rest of the approach on foot.

JARVIS’s scanners found four total guards around the building, patrolling in pairs. By sticking to the deep shadows cast by the stacked shipping containers and the orange-yellow glow of the sodium-vapor security lights, Tony got within hearing distance and hit them with a pulse of high-pitched wave frequency. They both stiffened and fell over, paralyzed, helmets bouncing off the pavement hard enough to knock them unconscious. Tony bound them with their own zip ties and hid them out of sight, then used his backdoor access to the security system to unlock the doors and set all the surveillance cameras on a one hour loop. As he strode through the door into the lab, all eyes turned to face him, and before anyone could even speak there was a brrrt noise and they fell to the floor, killed by the precision targeting system Tony had built into his suit.

When JARVIS confirmed they were all dead, Tony took off the helmet and looked down at one of the bodies; the one closest to him had been here a month ago, monitoring James’ vitals as they wiped his mind. This was the first time Tony had killed anyone and he expected to feel..something, sad or upset or even vindictive, but he didn’t really feel anything. It all felt too easy, and Tony knew it was because he had designed a suit that had made it that easy. All the more reason that Hydra couldn't be allowed to get their hands on it.

James was still sitting in the chair, watching Tony as he approached; he hadn’t even gone for cover as everyone around him had died. Tony wondered if it was out of surprise or indifference. “Do you know me?” He asked, coming to stand in front of him. James studied his features for a moment and shook his head. “My name is Tony Stark. You are James Buchanan Barnes, and I am here to rescue you.” Tony offered him a hand to get to his feet, but James didn’t move, he just stared at Tony with those glacier blue eyes. There wasn't blankness in them now, only a narrow-eyed look of consideration. “Come on,” Tony tried again. “We’re escaping. We have to hurry before more people show up.”

James didn’t move. “There is no escape from Hydra. The only way out is-”

“Death, I know.” Tony kept his hand out but gestured expressively around the room with the other. “But they never said whose death.”

James studied him again, then turned his gaze to the dead bodies. Finally, after a long moment, he took Tony’s hand and let him pull him to his feet.

[ct-1500-mango]

Tandem - Platonic Obikin

Hello, welcome to week 3 of Mango drabbles. I have been in the Star Wars fandom since I was six years old and I have been a fan of Pacific Rim since it came out in 2013. Today, some people in the NSWC server were watching Pacific Rim and I thought it would be incredible to do a crossover of the two. 

Tandem 

Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Marshal Stacker Pentecost, Tendo Choi

Rating: T

Word Count: 1595

I recommend listening to this when you read. 

Kaiju (Japanese): Giant Beast

Jaeger (German): Hunter

Drifting (English): Two minds being joined into one for combat

“Rebel Blue, report to Bay 05, Level A-42, repeat, Rebel Blue, report to Bay 05, Level A-42.” 

The blaring of the nuclear siren rings in Anakin’s ears as his eyes shoot open. He blearily rubs his eyes as the words repeating over the loudspeaker register. 

“Rebel Blue, report to Bay 05, Level A-42, repeat, Rebel Blue, report to Bay 05, Level A-42. Kaiju. Code name: Insidious. Category 3” 

He grins, adrenaline flooding his system. He jumps out of his bunk, pulls on a shirt, his dog tags jingling. His copilot, Obi-Wan slept peacefully on the lower bunk. Anakin slaps Obi-Wan’s mattress and then gently slaps his face. 

“Obi, wake up old man! We got movement, we’re being deployed!” 

Obi-Wan groans and Anakin takes that as a signal to keep prepping. He darts over to their mini kitchen, pulling out two protein bars. As Obi-Wan emerges from his bunk, pulling on a shirt, Anakin throws a bar to him. 

“G’morning.” Obi-Wan’s lightly accented voice rings through the air, slurred with sleep. “I see we’ve got a big one.” 

“Yep! And before you ask, it’s 1 A.M.”

Obi-Wan sighs. “Can’t these damn Kaiju appear according to my circadian rhythm?” 

Anakin laughs and Obi-Wan smiles. They are interrupted by a banging on the door. “ObiAni, hurry it up. Time for the drop.” 

Obi-Wan grabs his leather jacket from the chair he draped it over last night and tosses Anakin’s to him. Together, they don them and stride out the door. 

They make their way down to the launch bay. The massive steel doors are emblazoned with their sigil and “Rebel Blue” painted in white calligraphy. As the doors creak open, Anakin whoops. 

“Let’s get this show started, boys!” He practically bounces into the room. 

A small army of techs is waiting for them. They shed their jackets and step forward, taking their positions. Like squires to the knights of old, the techs help them into their armor. As Anakin’s breastplate is being attached, he looks at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan meets his gaze and winks. About thirty seconds later, they are suited up. The white armor shines under the fluorescent light. Together, they step forward and put on their helmets. The door to their Jaeger opens and Anakin walks in, followed closely by Obi-Wan and three techs. Together, they lock their feet in place. The techs secure their back harnesses and the third hands them their hand consoles. As the techs exit, a voice rings out through their headsets. 

“Welcome to the party, ObiAni!” 

Obi-Wan grins and replies, “Hello Tendo. What’s the weather like?”

The two men can hear Tendo’s grin. “Ah you know how it is. Cloudy with a chance of Kaiju blue.”

“So perfect weather then.” Anakin rolls his neck, making sure he’s all stretched out. 

“If you say so.” 

“Engage drop, Mr. Choi.” The stern, no nonsense voice of Major Pentecost interrupts their banter. The two men immediately switch to battle mode. If Pentecost is here, then it’s time to roll out. Making sure their comm channel is muted on their end, Anakin turns to look at Obi-Wan. 

“Ready to add another scratch to our wall of kills, Obi-Wan?”

“Only if you are. And make sure to cover our side this time, my side still hurts from the last one.”

“I told you, it came out of nowhere.”

“No, it clearly came out from the left, which is what you’re supposed to be covering.”

“If you recall, I was a bit busy with the prehensile tail!”

The hiss of the pod door sealing interrupts their banter. Both men do a final systems check before Obi-Wan reopens the comm channel. “Rebel Blue ready for the drop.”

With that confirmation, the floor plummets. Anakin’s stomach drops to his feet as the pod descends rapidly down the shaft. Instinctually, he lets out a scream of joy and terror. He looks at Obi-Wan and sees gritted teeth and closed eyes. He remembers that the drop is the part Obi-Wan hates. The pod slows and settles gently onto the shoulders of their Jaeger. A towering two hundred and eighty foot extension of their bodies. The pod, which is actually the head of the Jaeger rotates first left, then right, confirming mobility. Anakin and Obi-Wan adjust to the moving pod as the Marshall orders initiation of pilot to pilot protocol. 

Around them, filling their ears, Rebel Blue’s beautiful voice speaks, “Pilot-to-pilot connection protocol sequence.”

Anakin locks eyes with Obi-Wan. The soft blue glow of the helmet coats Obi-Wan’s features. The last time they dropped together, they took a pretty big hit. It took all three of them a few months to recover. Now, Rebel is as good as new and Anakin swears he isn’t going to let anything happen to Obi-Wan. The hum of Rebel’s nuclear core rattles the massive avatar. Obi-Wan nods to Anakin, a gesture of trust and faith that Anakin returns. They are some of the best pilots in the fleet and they know it. They will do their job and return to their friends and family. After all, they have a little sister waiting for them. 

Dimly, they hear the sounds of the bay doors opening as Rebel wakes up around them. They stumble slightly, jolting forward in their harnesses as the massive transport begins to roll towards the hanger doors. Through the viewscreen, they can see small helicopters buzzing like bees around their head. As the transport rolls off the launchpad into the unforgiving ocean, Anakin comms Command. 

“Rebel Blue, ready and aligned.”

“Rangers, this is Pentecost. As you know, this is a category 3. Last time you fought a C.3, you were nearly split in two. Try not to do that again. Prepare for neural handshake.”

Tendo’s voice takes over. “Starting in 15 seconds. 15…” 

As the countdown begins, Anakin mutes their channel. “What are we thinking, Obi-Wan? Music?”

“Oh definitely not. We have been out of it for a while, let’s not get cocky, even though that’s your specialty.”

Anakin rolls his eyes. “Fair enough. Can’t wait to hear your grating voice in my head.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“3… 2… 1…”

Rebel Blue speaks over Tendo, “Neural Handshake initiated.” Anakin closes his eyes, focusing on breathing. A sensation not unlike drowning overtakes him. His whole body goes cold, spreading from his head, down his torso, through his legs and arms. There is a pressure settling around him from all sides, slowly squeezing tighter and tighter as the memories begin. 

Obi-Wan, meeting Anakin for the first time in college. 

Anakin, swimming with Ahsoka, shouting and laughing. 

Anakin, the day his mother died, face wet with tears as the cancer finally took her. 

Obi-Wan, age 5, playing with his parents in a verdant, rolling field.  

Obi-Wan’s grief and guilt after his last copilot died.

Anakin’s insecurity at being compared to Obi-Wan’s former copilot. 

Obi-Wan and Anakin, the first time they drifted.

Obi-Wan and Anakin, becoming ObiAni. 

In tandem, their eyes snap open as the link finalizes. Two men and their hulking avatar, a perfect union of flesh and steel. ObiAni feels cold wind and sea spray on his face. He blinks, trying to dislodge a water droplet that isn’t even there. When you drift, you aren’t just melding with your copilot, you are embodying the Jaeger too. He hears and feels laughter echoing in his head. 

I missed this. I missed you. 

Was it Anakin or Obi-Wan who said that? It didn’t matter. All that matters is Anakin and Obi-Wan are one. Two halves of a whole, greater than the sum of its parts. ObiAni breathes, feeling his chest rise and fall as the heartbeat of Rebel Blue thrums in his ears. 

“Neural handshake strong and holding.” Tendo’s voice brings him out of his reverie. 

Right hemisphere, calibrating. ObiAni speaks, raising his left hand out to his side. Metal creaks as Rebel Blue obeys his command. He rotates his arm so his palm is facing up and slowly curls his fingers into a powerful fist. 

Left hemisphere, calibrating. This time, he brings his right arm up, repeating the motion. He bends his arms together and thrusts them forward in a powerful double punch. 

“Proofed and transmitting.” Rebel Blue coos in his ear, speaking to him and Command. ObiAni flexes his fingers. He curls his left hand into a fist and his right hand he leaves palm up. Fist meets palm in a powerful show of strength and aggression. ObiAni cracks his neck and views the HUD of Rebel Blue critically, making sure all systems are green. 

Pentecost begins giving them orders. “Rangers, you are to keep Insidious away from the coastline. Terminate it quickly then get back to base. As you know, breach activity has been increasing, I don’t want you caught in an ambush. Copy?”

Copy that, sir. 

ObiAni switches off comms and the bodies of the men that were Anakin and Obi-Wan look at each other. Obi-Wan’s face has a thin layer of sweat. Anakin’s breathing is spiking as adrenaline takes over. Their hearts beat in tandem with the nuclear core of Rebel Blue. 

You’re in my head, you know what I’m thinking. 

I do. 

Let’s go get this sonuva bitch. 

Flexing his muscles, ObiAni begins to walk and Rebel Blue follows suit, water sloshing around their ankles. Death could be on the horizon for ObiAni but now, he is whole, he is powerful, and he is going to save lives. 

And that’s all that matters.

[mitsmebinch]

The Dumbest Shit in the Weirdest Places: New Mexico Edition

I don’t know if I’ve ever had a near death experience. From the name itself, I would imagine it to be something abrupt, something terrifying, something that you would realize immediately. I would imagine this fear because you came to the rapid understanding that you were, in fact, about to die imminently. That would be my understanding of what it would mean to have a ‘near death experience’. And it would be my understanding that kind of experience would be something like a serious car accident, a violent altercation, maybe a medical emergency.

But what about other experiences, where you came to the understanding that your death was simply inevitable, but perhaps not imminent? Not to be morbid, but perhaps you were stuck underground from a cave-in, or under a boat that had capsized - only to be snatched from your circumstances before anything became too perilous. I would argue those to be ‘near death experiences’ as well.

I wouldn’t be so vain as to put my experiences in either one of these categories personally, because in hindsight I know that I had a good chance of survival. So I’ll call it what my sister coined a ‘death-adjacent experience.’ An experience that if something had gone wrong, you’d be well on your way to the kind of experience one could call near death or death.

As most of my stories worth telling start, I was doing something stupid.

I was a few miles outside of Cuba, New Mexico, with a GPS that was trying its hardest to take me down every back road as I was trying to find a gas station. It had been raining the night before, and it was still pretty gloomy. I should have taken that as a sign to not do what I was doing, but I was pumped full of the finest young adult confidence and I continued to drive to the next destination my GPS swore was a gas station. Finally, I found a gas station that my GPS claimed was in the postal code of Nageezi, New Mexico and filled my tank.

I then embarked down a road I should not have gone down, nor would I ever suggest another human person to go down especially in the weather conditions I chose. But again - nuclear grade confidence over here. I went down that road as soon as my GPS told me to. It was then that I found myself on County Road 7950.

Dear reader, do not ever find yourself on County Road 7950.

7900 does not prepare you for 7950, as 7950 is an entirely washboard dirt road that makes you think your car is coming apart one screw at a time. The technical speed limit is 35, but even 20 feels like you’re going too fast from the skaking. There is no section of the road that is calmer, or less bumpy, from the start of 7950 until you reach the blessedly paved portion of the Chaco Canyon Cultural Site.

But, Chaco Canyon! That’s an amazing ruin of the Anasazi! Everyone interested in their ruins should go there! I agree wholeheartedly. It is a fantastic ruin spanning several miles, most of which is open to walk and study for the public. Of the five Anasazi ruins I’ve walked in the US, it is overshadowed only by Mesa Verde and its dozen or so cliff dwellings, temples, and kiva enclaves.

The problem is not with Chaco Canyon, but with the roads into Chaco Canyon. My GPS didn’t want to take me the least problematic route - 550 to 7900 to 7950 - but on a wild chase up literally dried up riverbeds, over side roads with cracks my car could have easily fallen into, and past what I can only describe as a murder shack, complete with a few discarded shoes and a pile of ash out front (No, I’m not joking). By the time I returned to 7950 after that strange escapade, I vowed to only follow the paper map I had bought all the way back in Cimarron.

After 45 minutes of the strange drive across the New Mexico desert, with rain beginning to come down once more, I finally saw ahead of me the paved road of Chaco Canyon. Huzza!

My first stop was what I later realized to be Gallo Campground, with its measly collection of one, maybe two cliff dwellings. I nearly blew my top at the idea that I had just taken the time to see such a thing, but got back into my car to continue down the smooth Canyon road. Next was the Chaco Canyon Observatory, not much to see aside from trailheads into the canyon. It was raining pretty hard at this point, so again I got back into my car and kept driving until I saw the sign for Chaco Canyon’s crown piece: Pueblo Bonito.

I got out of my car, unfolded my umbrella, and trekked across the entire thing. The stairs lead from the southern tip up the northeastern side, where a portion of the cliff wall has destroyed the city, but most of the ruins remain intact. I descended into the city, walked its plaza, looked into the many rooms that resemble the circular kivas atop Mesa Verde. By the time I stepped out to walk the western side, the trail had become mud.

And I, a tourist with the idea that New Mexico would be hot, was in flip flops. The Anasazi people had chosen Chaco Canyon for several reasons, but one of those reasons was that the soil there was extremely useful in the production of clay and the mortar that held their walls together. Every step felt like my straps were going to break, pounds of mud and the suction that came with it holding my feet wherever I stepped. When I did manage to find footing, it was so slippery I nearly fell several times. By the time I made it back to the cobbled path leading to the pueblo, my feet were covered in pretty red mud up to my ankles, and I was very very cold.

I rushed back to my car, pulling my only bottle of water from the side of the door and washing my feet off so I could at least drive away. I went by Pueblo del Arroya as well, and then turned to my long suffering GPS to send me to Grants, New Mexico.

At first, it wanted to take me out the way I came, from the north. Of course, I wanted to go south, in the direction of Grants and then later Albuquerque. So I took my big dumb finger and maneuvered the path south, along NM-57.

Dear reader, do not ever find yourself on NM-57.

I, like someone who was capable of learning from their mistakes, turned to my paper map to confirm the road. I followed my route, through Nageezi, down 7950, and then through Chaco Canyon. There! I found the road. Strangely, the map was calling it Service Road 14. No matter, I thought to myself like someone who wasn’t capable of learning from their mistakes, it was the same road and they both said it would let me out at the same place: Seven Lakes, New Mexico.

So, I started up the car and followed the GPS to a turn in the road, and saw a sign that said to the best of my memory: ‘Service Road 14, Conditions may be impassable.’ Hmm. Alarm bells went off, but overconfidence is a powerful thing. I was a good driver. And 7950 had been so horrible, what could possibly be worse on this road?

Ten minutes later, things got a lot worse.

I was going down 14, minding my own business, when I noticed ahead of me the tell tale signs of someone having lost control of their vehicle - a bunch of lines showing their tires going in a big circle. I took my foot off the gas and put it on the break, and got to hear a sound I wish to never hear ever again.

Cars, at least ones made after 2010, have 2 features that are usually very useful. They will try to alternate which tire is breaking when it can tell that it doesn’t have traction, and it will make a different sound when you try to turn your wheel and you have no traction.

In this instance, those two features in unison made a sound I can only describe as entirely too loud as my car slid to a halt at a forty five degree angle in the road.

Ah. Shit.

My confidence disappeared immediately as I came to the realization that when people feel the need to put up a sign that says ‘Conditions may be impassable’, they might actually mean it.

And I was going to have to take this road all the way to Seven Lakes, as Service Road 14 was entirely downhill from Chaco Canyon with no room to make a u-turn. So, I put my foot back on the gas, my hands white knuckling the steering wheel, and got up to a thrilling 5 miles an hour.

I kept driving, glancing from the road, to my GPS, to the setting sun every few feet. I had gotten to Chaco Canyon late in the day, and I was losing light quickly. I kept at it for another ten minutes before I came to the top of a small hill and had to put my breaks on so I didn’t accelerate too much.

I slid down the hill, with the back end of my vehicle slowly inching its way to the front until finally I was again at 45 degrees with the road. I pushed down a little more on the break, and I heard that sound again. My car kept moving, all the way into the ditch on the side of the road, mud kicking up to eye-level of my driver’s side window.

I sat there for about 30 seconds, weighing my options. Either I would get my car out, or I would not. I knew I didn’t have the strength to manually push it out of the ditch, let alone when the ditch was filled with mud. I spent the next two minutes turning my wheel a few degrees at a time until finally it managed to catch the slightest bit of traction and pull out of the ditch.

At this point, I was crying and trying my very hardest not to hyperventilate. I already don’t like driving in slippery conditions on account of being rear-ended on ice before, and now I was hydroplaning on mud, sun going down, with zero service, in a place I had told no one about and I had seen no one as I drove.

So I put my foot back on the gas and continued to white-knuckle my way down the worst road I had ever been on. I continued to hydroplane, going entirely perpendicular several times as I slid down the road, talking to myself to keep my breathing at least moderately normal. I came to the mantra that managed to keep me as calm as I could considering my situation.

“I’m going to get to Seven Lakes and call my mum.”

It feels weird that this was the phrase that I repeated probably a hundred times in that hour and a half slog, but it made sense in my head. I always texted my mom where I stopped for the night on my trips, and she would be expecting the text soon since the sun was almost down. If I got to Seven Lakes and called her, that meant I was somewhere safe to sleep for the night.

Finally, I came to one final crest in the hill and I saw for the first time in a long time: a paved road. I started crying harder, slowing to a stop just before my tires reached the smooth black stuff before me to look around for the sign of what road I had just come down.

On this side of the road, however, there was no sign. I had come from an unmarked, dirt road.

So, with equal parts relief and boiling rage, I hit the call button to my mum as I arrived at Seven Lakes.

I got about as far as saying, somewhat jokingly but somewhat serious, “I’m so happy to hear your voice, I just had an awful drive,” before the call dropped. I still only had one bar after all.

SHIT.

I didn’t know how far she had heard of my call, but if she heard any of it she could hear the utter exhaustion and fear in my voice. I immediately turned down the road to Crownpointe, knowing it was a bigger city and would probably have service.

Nope.

I sped towards Thoreau, now in total darkness that the sun had gone down, windshield wipers going as fast as they could. It was not until around 30 minutes later that I had enough bars to make a call.

I immediately dialed her, and was picked up on the first ring. I got the expected “Are you okay? Where are you? Do you need help? We’re ready to come get you.” (Mind you, my mum was minimum 8 hours away, with no idea where I was). I explained to her as calmly as I could that I was okay, a brief and abridged version of my journey so she didn’t worry, and that I was okay now.

Apparently, she had only heard, “I’m so happy to hear your voice,” before the call dropped, which I will probably never live down. We talked for another few minutes before she let me off if I promised to call her tomorrow morning. I continued to drive in the dark, rain pouring down, most of my visibility afforded to me by the bright lights of semis, in absolute silence.

It was not until I saw the warm glow of a Loves (the best truck stop in all of the US and yes I will fight you on that) sign in the distance - Grants, New Mexico. I immediately started crying again, the view of something familiar, a place with a shower after my long day since I was still very much so covered in sweat, tears, and dirt.

I parked, got my little toiletries bag out of the back seat, and trudged into the Loves. I waddled to the counter, looking closer to a wet rat than a person, and asked to buy a shower from the cashier in between sniffles.

She gave me that, “Um, yeah,” you give customers when they’re doing weird shit but you can’t say anything, and handed me my shower ticket. A few minutes later, my shower opened and I went in to stand underneath the water until the chill from the rain went away. I came out of the bathroom still exhausted, but at least clean.

It was still raining, so I ran out to my car. To my luck, there was a Walmart supercenter just down the road - my go-to sleeping arrangements. I quickly situated myself in the back of the parking lot, and looked around for somewhere to eat. I immediately noticed a Denny’s just across the way, whose lights were still on (I didn’t know they ran 24 hours at the time). Finally, the rain had stopped, so I ran across the parking lot and poured myself into a booth facing my car.

I remember being unusually happy to find out they serve breakfast food even this late, at 10 PM if I remember correctly, so I got chicken nuggets with hash browns. To this day, Grants, New Mexico holds a special place in my heart, and remains one of the only two places I have ever visited twice. I just can’t get that memory of my savior, Loves, coming into view out of my head.

[finnyboywolfhard]

Song That The Morning Brings (Chapter Twenty One)

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

catch up here

summary: They are wandering through the tunnels after escaping the elevator, Steve gets in a fight and Erica is a nerd. 

warnings: cursing, violence, angst, spoilers ig 

word count: 4.3k 

The entire group clamors up to atop the elevator and impatiently waits for whatever is to come next. Loud beeping and clunky footsteps break the silence as the doors smoothly open up. Two large men walk into the elevator and begin grabbing boxes. The one man begins aggressively sniffing, before speaking a sentence in Russian that none of them could understand. The two have a small conversation while pulling the boxes down and taking them to somewhere outside of the elevator. Steve is laying down against the grate, eyes sealed to watching the room. Steve looks around the group, signaling to be quiet, stopping his eyes on Erica who is still holding a tube of the goo.

The door starts closing, the group waits until the Russians are out of ear shot from the elevator to jump down and begin piling out. Steve falls down to the ground and shoves the tube in between the elevator door and the floor, giving them a passage space to crawl through to get out.

“Let’s go.” Erica tosses Steve her backpack which he shoves underneath the door. He begins shuffling them all through the door, chanting “go” repetitively as the crawl under. First Erica, then Dustin, then Robin and then Y/N. They all shuffle through and stand up briskly once they reach the other side. Steve starts to climb out just as the tube begins to crack, nearly shattering.

“Stevie! Come on!” Y/N yells out to him. He slides out and away from the door just as the tube shatters, the goo burning a hole into the ground surrounding its shatter sight.

“Jesus Christ!” Steve huffs out as he stands beside the group.

“You still want to drink that?” Robin says to Erica with a twinge of superiority.

“Holy mother of God.” Slips out of Dustin’s mouth as the rest of the group turns to look at what he was seeing. The expanse of the hallway went out so far they couldn’t even fathom of seeing the end. The cool blue lights reflected off of the floor, though seemingly getting darker and darker as it stretches farther down.

“Well, hope you guys are in good shape. Looking at you, roast beef.” Steve said pushing his way to the front of the group tapping Dustin on the chest after his last remark.

“Stevie, that was mean.” Y/N said shuffling a little to catch up with Steve. The rest of the group joining slightly after Steve says, “Let’s go, come on.”

Y/N’s feet began to ache after a while, no clue how far they had walked at that point, but it didn’t seem like they were ending anytime soon. She was looking down at her feet walking in as straight of a line as she could before she felt an elbow nudge her slightly, she looked up to see Steve’s brown eyes peering down to her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah Stevie, I’m okay. I just want to get the hell out of here.”

“Don’t we all.” She heard Robin quip from the other side of Steve. The group kept talking in small segments before Dustin started a whole other conversation.

“I mean, you have to admit, as a feat of engineering alone, this is impressive.” His voice echoed around the tunnel.

“What are you talking about? It’s a total fire hazard.” Steve remarks back to Dustin. “There’s no stairs, there’s no exit, there’s just an elevator that drops you halfway to hell.”

“They’re commies.” Erica replies to Steve. “You don’t pay people, they cut corners.”

“To be fair to our Russian comrades, I don’t think tunnel was designed for walking.”

“They were clearly on something that took them to the elevator. We just don’t know what. And I mean think about it, they have developed the perfect system for transporting that cargo.” Y/N said in response to Robin, completing her thought.

“It all comes into the mall like any old delivery.” Dustin said, before Robin replied.

“And then they load it up onto those trucks and nobody’s the wiser.”

“You think they build this whole mall just so they could transport that green poison?” Steve asked the three discussing the genius feat of the Russians.

“I mean, I don’t think it’s that simple.” Y/N replied.

“I doubt it’s that boring, just poison. It’s gotta be much more valuable like promethium or something.”

“What the hell is Promethium?” Steve quickly asked.

“It’s what Victor Stone’s dad used to make Cyborg’s bionic and cybernetic components.” Robin responded.

“You’re all so nerdy, it makes me physically ill.” Erica said, nearly gagging at the end of her sentence.

“No, no, no! Don’t lump me in with them. I’m not a nerd, alright?” Steve exclaimed towards the little girls insult.

“Why so sensitive Harrington?” Robin asked.

“Yeah, Stevie, is your ego crushed by someone calling you a nerd? Are you afraid of losing cool points to a ten year old child?” Y/N said with a slight, breathy laugh.

“No, I’m just saying I don’t know jack shit about Prometheus.”

“Promethium. Prometheus is a Greek mythological figure, but whatever. All I’m saying is it’s probably being used to make something.” Steve was corrected by Dustin

“Or power something.”

“Like a nuclear weapon.”

“Totally.”

“Walking towards a nuclear weapon. That’s great. That’d be great.” Steve said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“But, if they’re building something, why here?” Robin said. “ I mean, Hawkins…seriously. Of all places.” Robin kept rambling on about the obscurity of it happening in Hawkins while Y/N felt her body grow cold, as she stopped dead in her tracks. The gate was here. All of the problems from the past two years, were here. They could be trying to use whatever the hell is in Hawkins for this. Steve and Dustin both stood back and the three kept locking eyes. Y/N could feel herself going paler and paler until it was even hard to breathe. But she couldn’t make it that obvious that she was worried, especially because she wasn’t exactly sure what she was worried about.

“You think the Russians know?” Dustin asked the two standing beside him.

“About the-“ Steve was cut off by Y/N.

“They could.”

“So, it’s connected?” Steve asks the Henderson siblings.

“Maybe.” Dustin replied only to be asked another question by his sister.

“But how?”

“I don’t know but it’s…”

“Possible.” They all finished Dustin’s sentence in unison.

They all stand looking at each other. Y/N began nervously fiddling with her own hands before slowly linking her arm with Steve’s to steady herself for a second.

“I’m sorry, is there something you’d like to share with the class.” Robin yelled, cutting through the tense moment the three were experiencing. The three just keep looking from each other to Erica and Robin. The looks are put to rest when Dustin’s Supercom hisses alive as the Russian message pours through it’s speaker. They all surround it and listen intently, before Robin begins speaking along with it.

“It’s the code.”

“Wherever that broadcast is coming from-“

“It’s close.” Y/N interrupts her brother. “And if there’s one thing we know about that signal…”

“It can reach the surface.”

“Let’s go.” Robin says, pulling herself up from the floor. The entire group keeps walking along the halls, getting ready to reach the surface thanks to the walkie.

Eventually, the group reached a point of entrance in whatever this place really was. The entire group had to keep ducking and hiding behind walls and objects. Steve took the lead of the group. They had begun hiding behind a wall as multiple of the weird car like carts were passing through. They all waited a moment behind the wall before Steve kept moving.  He leaned passed the wall and whispered to the group.

“Okay, clear. Clear, come on, let’s go.” The entire group rounded the corner before Robin abruptly said.

“That was close.”

“Too close!” Dustin said with an angry tone.

“Dusty, calm down.” Y/N said with Steve following closely after.

“Relax, All right? Relax. Nobody saw…” He was cut off as he entered a large room full of Russian men. They were in every nook and cranny. There was loud announcements over a speaker, that none of them could understand. The men were hustling and bustling all around, and talking to each other in strong tones. No one wasn’t moving.

The group stood staring in fear at what they had become witness to.

“Oh fuck.” Y/N said under her breath from besides Steve.  They kept looking around at all of the differently uniformed people. There were ones dressed in military garb and others dressed in lab coats. Some were in business attire and others looked like average citizens. Their staring was interrupted when they almost got caught.

“Shit.” Steve whispered as he threw himself to the ground in attempts to hide, the rest of them falling in line with Steve. “Oh Jesus!”

“Red dawn.” Dustin said in a breathy voice, clearly showing he was in shock a bit.”

“What are we even looking for?” Y/N said finally asking the sacred question.

“I saw it!” Erika replied. “First floor, northwest.”

“Saw what?” Steve asked her, Y/N inevitably agreeing with his question.

“The comms room!” She whisper shouted at him

“You saw the comms room?” Steve and Y/N said in unison.

“Correct!”

“Are you sure?” Steve asked again.

“Positive. The door was open for a second, and I saw a bunch of lights and machines and shit in there.” She replied, as if it was a stupid question.

“That could be a hundred different things.” Dustin snapped reality to everyone.

“I’ll take those odds.” Robin said turning towards Steve and Y/N. Y/N looked into Steve’s eyes. Without any words, she could tell he was asking her what she thought. Somehow, she showed to him that she would do it but she was scared. He shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh. He leaned out from behind the large box they were behind, the group following suit. He leans back and they had all turned to him.

“Alright, we’re gonna move fast, we’re gonna stay low. Okay?”

“Okay.” The group all responded to him. They beginning crouching and running with quick steps from behind the box. They move to behind another large object, they were almost like grates. Y/N wrapped her hands around one of the cold metal bars in order to ground herself. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts rang through her head. Steve tapped her hand that was resting on the bar and shooed her forward, along with everyone else. They moved once again, now they were extremely close to the door to the comms room. A man walked out, and the door started to close slowly.

“Let’s go!” Steve said rushing them all to the door. They all get through the door, Steve whispering “come on” to the group as they shuffle inside. All of them facing towards the door, watching one another. They all get inside, and Steve turns around only to notice that there is still a man sitting at the control desk. He removes his headphones and turns to look at the rag tag group that just walked in. The man gives them a scared yet angry look, and all the group can do is stare back at him. He reaches for a weapon from his hip, and Robin blurts out a part of the code, reaching her hand toward him to show that she isn’t a threat. However, all this does is confuse the man who is still reaching for his weapon. He begins speaking in Russian which none of them could understand. Robin continues saying parts of the code, regardless of if they make sense or not. This cycle repeats itself a few more times before he actually starts working to get his weapon out. The scared silence is broken by Steve screaming and running straight towards him. He slams his body into the mans, shoving him back against the desk. The man immediately throws Steve over to the other desk, causing Steve to stammer a bit. He goes to throw a punch at Steve but he misses after Steve falls backwards. The man grabs Steve by the collar and throws him over to the side once more full force. Steve’s stomach hits the desk, the man grabs his neckline to turn Steve around and just as he does so, Steve’s elbow flies straight into his stomach. The man stumbles back a little bit, giving Steve just enough time to grab a hold of a wired phone in order to turn around and hit the man in the head with it. The man falls to the floor with a grown, passing out immediately. Steve stands straight up and runs his hand through his hair in efforts to actually catch his breath. Y/N couldn’t believe her eyes on what just happened.

“Dude!” Dustin yelled, causing Steve and everyone else to turn towards him. “You did it! You won a fight!” Steve glances down at the man on the floor and Y/N started giggling immediately.

“Jeez.” Steve said with a soft and breathy chuckle. Dustin runs up to the man on the floor and snags his key card from his belt.

“What are you doing?” Y/N asks her little brother, who was doing something that could potentially be very dangerous.

“Getting us our ticket out of here.”

“You want to walk all the way back?” Erica harshly replied.

“Well, we can hang out for a little bit, relax, have a picnic maybe.” Dustin said sarcastically. The two bicker a bit as Y/N goes up to Steve.

“That was stupid, but I’m proud of you. Thank you for essentially saving us.”

“Anything for you, my damsel in distress.” He makes a mocking joke, which hit Y/N in a weird way. It made her feel special, and like Steve did it exclusively for her.

“Yeah, yeah. Are you gonna brag about that now? How you won a fight against a Russian soldier?”

“Hell yeah I am! I lost to Billy and Jonathan! That’s embarrassing.”

“Oh, so you’re finally admitting to losing to J, huh?”

“Oh, shut up, no need to point it out.” She smiled at him before looking back at the group.

“Shit, where’s Robin?” As if on cue, Robin entered once again.

“Guys, there’s something up there.” She said in a worried tone, pointing to the top of the steps. As Y/N glanced up, she happened to notice the glowing and flickering light. The group ran up the steps and through the door to see what Robin was talking about. Dustin, Y/N and Steve all look forward into the space in front of them. It was the gate. Glowing and open once again, even though El had closed it less than a year ago. Y/N instinctively moved closer to Steve, pressing their bodies together gently. It made her feel slightly safer that she was with Steve, but she was still terrified.

“Holy shit.” Dustin let out with a breath. The three of them looked at one another before muttering “the gate” and continued to stare ahead at it. Y/N almost felt bad for the two other girls with them. They had no idea what this was, hell they had no idea that this even existed. She also felt concerned that it didn’t necessarily shock her that this is why they were in Hawkins. Y/N ripped herself away from the group and out of the door. Steve signaled to the other girls that it was time to go and they all ran after Y/N.

“I don’t understand, you’ve seen this before?” Robin asked, confused as to why they were rushing aware from this brand new discovery.

“Not exactly.” Steve replied.

“Then what, exactly?” Robin asked in response.

“All you need to know is it’s bad.” Dustin said, trying to catch up with his sister.

“It’s really bad.” Steve agreed.

“Like end of the human race as we know it kind of bad.” Y/N finally spoke up again after storming out.

“And you know about this how?” Robin asked the three of them, only to be distracted by Erica.

“um Steve? Where’s your Russian friend?” They all get snapped from the trance they were in and look to the floor where they had just left the soldier. Just as they do, an alarm starts blaring.

“Oh shit!” Steve starts running around , peering out the door to see that every one of the Russians are teaming up with one another to find whoever these intruders were. Except, they saw him looking. Steve slammed the door and shuffled everyone out of the room they were in. They rush from one room to another trying to find somewhere to hide. They run into the control room for the gate, and instantly run back out, trying desperately to escape the armed men. They run out onto the platform next to the laser, only to realize that it’s a dead end. Dustin begins shrieking “holy shit” over and over again, which doesn’t really help their situation. Steve looks to find an exit, and when he does he yells out to the group which way to go. They run down a set of metal steps, almost being caught by guards meeting them at the bottom. Steve pushes a few metal barrels towards them, throwing them off their track. They hurry into another room trying desperately to shut themselves inside. Steve pushes his body weight against the door.

“Help me! Help me!” Steve yells, causing Robin to rush to the door and propel herself onto it as well. Erica discovers a vent that she can climb into, yelling for Dustin and everyone else to join her. Y/N looks back to Steve to see what he wants her to do. Dustin yells out to Steve .

“Come on!”

“Go! Just get out of here! Y/N go with them! Keep them safe!” Steve yells to them as they begin piling into the vent. Right before she ducks into the vent and the Russians break through the door Y/N yells out to Steve.

“Don’t break your promise. I can’t lose you.” As soon as the vent is shut, she lets out a breath and shoos the kids along. They get a bit farther away, just enough so they can no longer hear yelling men.

“Fucking hell.” Y/N lets out, stopping the group for a moment.

“Are you okay?” Dustin asks his sister.

“Dustin, what do you think? No. Fuck me. Oh my god.” She continues to let out a string of curses while trying to figure out what they hell they should do. Her mom wandered every thought possible, but the only thing they could do was keep moving, find Steve and Robin and get the hell out. “Okay, well, we can’t stop moving or else we will die and so will Steve and Robin. So just keep crawling until we find something, someone or somewhere.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna work as well as you think it will.” Erica said from behind the girl.

“Oh really Erica? You have better ideas? Because the last time I checked, all you have been doing is giving everyone else grief. Now pipe down and let’s get moving.”

The three started to crawl through the vents until they hit fans that were cooling down the vents.

“We have to get them to stop spinning, that way we can get through. Do you have tools in your backpack?” Dustin said once they arrived at the first one.

“I have a few.” The two younger kids rummaged through the bag before taking the initiative to stop them.

“Be careful Dusty, don’t electrocute yourself.” Y/N said keeping a watchful eye over her brother. He stops the first vent after about a minute of fumbling and continues to crawl through.

“Could y’all tell me how you know this shit is bad? You got all freaked out and left.” Erica posed the question in a harsh, almost accusatory tone.

The two siblings recounted the woes of the past two years to the young girl. From the very beginning all the way up till now. They told their own sides of the stories in connection to one another. Y/N sharing about fighting off a Demogorgon and going face to face with one. She shared about fighting the Demodogs first hand and she told her perspective of the tunnels. Dusty told of the day they met Eleven and when they discovered Will wasn’t dead. He shared about his connection to Dart and then he told his stories of the night it all went down. They didn’t spare a single detail of who was there, what happened, when it happened and why it seemed to happen. Erica responded asking for it to be broken down quickly once again, leaving Y/N to run through it all.

“When we set fire to the hub, we drew the Demodogs away so El could close the gate. But now, for some insane reason, the Russians appear to be trying to reopen it, which just destroys everything we all risked our lives for.”

“By ‘we’, you’re including Lucas?”

“Yes, of course.” Dustin said from in front of the fan.

“So, all that shit you told me, Lucas was there?” Dustin and Y/N both affirmed that question before Erica continued, “My brother, Lucas Charles Sinclair?”

“Yes!” Dustin lowkey shouted.

“I don’t believe you.”

“So you’re telling me that you believe everything about El, the gate, the Demodogs, the mind flayer, me coming face to face with a liter monster but-“ Y/N said, getting cut off by Dustin.

“But you don’t believe your brothers involvement?”  

“That’s correct.”

“Yeah, that makes total sense.” Y/N sarcastically said. She watched as Dustin continued to fiddle with the screwdriver, trying desperately to crack open the casing for this set of wires.

“You need help with that?” Erica asked, getting a negative response from Dustin. “Well, I mean, it’s taking a while so-“

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock.”

“All right, so if we don’t find a more efficient method to stop these fans, we’re not gonna find help and your boyfriend and little ice cream buddy are screwed.”

“He’s not my-“

“With that attitude they are, Jesus.”

“I’m just being realistic. I mean, we’ve made it about point three miles in nine hours. Then we had to walk three hours down that tunnel, so I’d estimate ten miles back to the elevator, which should take us approximately twelve and a half days.” Erica rambled off in response to the siblings.

“Did you just do all of that in your head?” Dustin asked, noticing the same thing as his sister.

“I’m good with numbers.”

“Holy shit! Erica, you’re a nerd!” Y/N said with glee looking unto the smaller girl.

“Come again?”Erica asked, denying the accusation.

“You. Are. A. Nerd.” Dustin said, word by word, demanding her attention to them.

“Okay, you better take that back nerd!”

“Can’t put the truth back in the box!” Y/N said for her brother.

“But it’s not the truth.”

“Hmm, Dusty, you wanna take this one?” Y/N asked, egging her brother on.

“Let’s examine the facts, shall we? Fact one: you’re a math whiz apparently.”

“That was a pretty straightforward equation.”

“Fact number two: you’re a political junkie.”

“Just because I don’t agree with Communism as an ideology-“ Erica was cut off once again by Dustin. Y/N had to admit, it was extremely funny watching Erica try to convince them she wasn’t a nerd. She was pulling excuses out of excuses.

“Fact number three: you love My Little Pony.” Dustin hit Erica where it hurt.

“And what does My Little Pony have to do with this?”

“Ah, let’s recall the ponies’ latest adventure shall we? The evil centaur team and Tirek turns Applejack into a dragon at Midnight Castle, and then Megan and the other ponies have to use Moochick’s magic to defeat his rainbow of darkness, saving them from a lifetime of enslavement. All the pink in the world can’t disguise the irrefutable fact that centaurs and castles and dragons and magic are all standard nerd tropes. Ergo, My Little Pony is nerdy. Ergo, you, Erica, are a nerd.” Dustin finished off his argument strongly. Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle a bit to herself. Erica’s eyes were widening, her jaw a little bit slack.  This is why Y/N feared Dustin’s intelligence a bit. He just shut Erica down in three sentences. Erica regained her confidence to ask another question.

“And how do you know so much about My Little Pony?”

“Because, I’m a nerd.” Dustin pronounced as he pulled the wiring from this casing, turning the fan off. The three kept wandering through the vents. The conversation that just happened replayed through Y/N’s head over and over and over again.

“Steve isn’t my boyfriend by the way Erica.”

“That’s a lie.”

“No it’s not. We’re not dating.”

“Could have fooled me. The way you’re both always looking at each other is gross, plus you never stop flirting.”

“What are you talking about?” Y/N said trying to understand where this is coming from.

“She means that whenever you two talk to one another, you’re always sickly sweet to each other or you’re protective in ways only couples are. Besides, you’re both in love with each other; you just haven’t done anything about it.”

“You guys haven’t done anything? Nothing at all?” Erica asked, dumbfounded by the revelation at hand.

“We kissed once, but never talked about it after.”

“You’ve kissed?!” Dustin asked, grabbing his sister’s arm. “And you didn’t tell me about it?”

“Dusty, it’s not a big deal.”

“When? When did you guys kiss?”

“After graduation.” She felt like she was being drilled by a drill sergeant. They kept bombarding her with questions about Steve over and over again. It was tiring but they were curious. She walked them through their entire friendship and everything in between. The two kids exhausted their questions and remarks about the two, just as Y/N noticed a glowing vent about them. She pressed against the vent and it popped right open.

taglist: @mochminnie @queen1054 @prettysbliss @voidnarnia

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Banished (Part 46)

~Banished Master~

Paring: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Word Count: 9.5K

~Master~

*Based off episode 4x01 of the 100, Echoes*

Oh, and bold italics are in trig, I just can’t write it in Trig cause that’s hard...

Previously...

“Y/N, what’s wrong? You’re not acting like yourself. Especially not after saving the world.”

“We didn’t. Bellamy, I think- we’re not done yet.” You told him. Bellamy didn’t know what to say. He wanted just five seconds to not have to worry about the end of the world or losing someone. He just wanted to spend five seconds without worrying about losing you. 

Without another thought, Bellamy pulled you into him, kissing your lips because just a few hours ago he felt stupid for not doing it before you went into to the city. He almost never got the chance to do it again. You weren’t expecting Bellamy’s kiss, but you didn’t pull away, melting into his embrace like it was the only thing that made sense. Maybe it was. You and him always stuck it out, things got messy, yet here you were. You pulled away, biting your lip and resting your forehead against his. “Bellamy. I lo-“

The sound of a sword going through Pike stopped you as your heads shot to the source, watching as Octavia removed her sword from Pike’s body and then man fell to the floor groaning until silence. Pike was dead, Octavia killed him, and you were proud.

--- 

Bellamy started after his sister, but you stopped him, pulling the tubes and wincing out in pain. Your hiss caught Clarke’s attention as she jumped over, her mom coming with and sat you down. Bellamy looked between you and sister, his eyes landing on the door. You reached up slowly, tugging his arm and attention to you.

“Let her go, Bell. She needs space.” He didn’t say anything, gulping as he watched Clarke and Abby clean up the last of the equipment. You stood up, pulling Clarke and Bellamy off to the side and away from prying eyes. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” Clarke asked, narrowing her eyes at you and Bellamy, who was slowly clueing himself in on the situation.

“ALIE.” He mumbled, making only making Clarke more confused.

She was about to ask what he meant before you spoke. “The world’s ending.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair and not looking up at either of them. “By 6 months, the nuclear power plants will have melted down and the radiation would destroy the earth. ALIE said 96% of the world, I think, would be uninhabitable. No more earth.”

Bellamy and Clarke’s faces looked exactly how you thought they would with this news. “ALIE told you this?” Clarke asked. You hesitated but nodded.

“I watched the world go up in flames.” Bellamy hadn’t said a word, his arms crossed in front of him as stared at you, listening to you catch them up on everything ALIE told you. “I just destroyed the only thing we know that could save us. That’s the beauty of it.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Bellamy assured you, hearing you blame yourself. “Destroying the City of Light was a good thing. We’ll figure something out. Together.” You picked your eyes up, looking into his and sending him a half-hearted grin.

You heard someone shout, telling of a way down as the three of you took one last glance at each other before reluctantly heading over.

Stopped yourself, you watched as Clarke walked away before you grabbed her arm, getting her to look at you. “What is it?” she asked, watching you stumble in your thoughts when your arm fell to your side.

You had to tell her. She deserved to know.

“Something happened while I was there.” You began, unsure of how to bring up her deceased love. Clarke furrowed her brow, starting to ramble on about Ontari’s blood and whatnot before you stopped her, putting both your hands on her shoulders. “Lexa saved me.”

Clarke’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes faltering from yours enough to let you know whatever you were to say would cause her pain. “Lexa? She was…?”

“I saw her.” You whispered, biting back the sob in your throat. “These men were attacking me. She saved me. Without her, I would’ve died.” She didn’t say anything, only nodding her head shortly. “I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked.

“For what?” Clarke tried to smile, tears in her eyes making it hard.

“You could’ve seen her again.” Clarke didn’t know what to say as she looked at you, shaking her head. “Clarke you could’ve seen her.”

“Stop.” She whispered, putting a hand on your elbow for comfort. “It’s alright. I’m glad you’re okay.” You closed your eyes as your head fell, the sting in your throat keeping you from saying more.

“Y/N, Clarke.” Bellamy shouted from across the room as you both picked your heads up and followed him down. Octavia beat you all down having climbed down on the side of the tower. She was kneeling over Indra as Bellamy, Clarke and you walked outside.

You gulped as you looked at the dead bodies, women and men everywhere coating the ground with blood.

“Help!” you heard someone yell as the three of you looked, seeing an older man hobble as his wife tried to hold him up, a deep cut in his leg impairing his ability to stay on his feet.

“I’ll handle it.” Clarke told you as you nodded pushing her gently towards the olden couple. She helped the man, seating him on the steps and tying a tourniquet around his leg. The groans and cries of other men and women drew your attention away.

Bellamy wasn’t watching Clarke, or you, instead his eyes were scanning around the city, looking for his sister before he found her. You looked between the siblings with a sigh. “Pike had it coming. Everyone knew that. He got what he deserved.” Bellamy kept his mouth shut, looking from Octavia to you. You couldn’t keep your eyes still, looking from one dead body to the next as Bellamy pulled you to focus on him. You appreciated the distraction, looking into the brown depths of his eyes. “So, what do we do now?”

“Well,” he breathed out, putting his hands on his hips and frowning. “We don’t know if ALIE was telling the truth-“

“She was.”

“But we don’t know that.” He stopped you, making you sigh. You knew he was right, but so were you. “We need to keep this to ourselves until we know what we’re dealing with and how to stop it.”

“Who knows how people will react.” You nodded, Bellamy’s ideals making sense. You ran a hand over your face, feeling the scar and blood back on your skin once again from after the City of Light, missing how your skin once felt whole again.

“Exactly.” Bellamy agreed before his eyes softened, catching your mood drop when your hand fell. “Besides, I could use a break from keeping you alive.” He joked, getting you to smile and nudge him with your shoulder. He went on, telling you that you didn’t survive this long to get killed by a little radiation.

You felt a smile tug on your lips as you met his eyes, Bellamy’s arm coming out to pull you into his side as you stared out amongst the dead. “Thanks for keeping me alive, Bell.” You whispered, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Yeah, well it’s not always easy.” You were about to laugh before a woman not far from you starting wailing. She was clutching onto a man who’s head hung low, obvious signs of death on him as you and Bellamy exchanged glances, meeting Clarke as you got to him.

Clarke went into doctor mood immediately, checking over the man as Bellamy furrowed his brows. “He didn’t fall.” He pointed out before glancing at you, your face fallen and emotionless. “Y/N?”

“He didn’t fall. He was chasing me when I was in the City of Light.” You cleared your throat, aware of the eyes on you. “Lexa killed him before he killed me.”

“You did this.” The wailing woman stood up, her eyes glaring at you as she stepped back. “Skaikiler.” Murmurs echoed around the City, Skaikiler, Wanheda, and Skaikru coming up quite a few times as Clarke and Bellamy looked at all of them, their worries increasing as you stood your ground, staring down the woman who started this all.

Well, Fuck.

The Ark was far more upbeat than Polis, music filling the air as Harper and Monty snuck glances from across the room to each other. They worked away, trying to get their equipment as Jasper strutted in in a cup in one hand and a pitcher in the other. Harper raised her cup to have him refill it and he did. Jaspers couldn’t help but look to the bloodied scar on Harper’s face, his stomach falling at the sight.

“Sorry about the um...” he couldn’t find the words as he pointed to her head, over her right eye where the mark sat.

Harper nodded, knowing what he was getting at. “Smashing my face into the wall or pistol-whipping me?” Her voice was laced with a small pain as Jasper rocked back on his heels, his eyes widening and lips pursing.

“Can I plead the chip?” Harper nodded, raising her cup to let Jasper know he was forgiven. He cheered back before taking a sip, moving forward fill Raven’s empty cup. Raven shot her hand up, covering the cup to prevent Jasper from filling it. “Raven, when you save the world, you’re supposed to celebrate. I think it’s a rule.”

“I’ll celebrate when I know our friends are okay.” She sat down on the stool, pulling the keyboard closer to her as an error message showed on the screens in front of her. “And when I get the mainframe back online.”

Jasper looked at the screens, seeing the code Raven was working on fill the screen. “Is it weird I wanna go back in?”

“It’s not weird Jasper.”

“It is weird that you can code without being a coder though, right? It’s like ALIE updated your brain.” Raven paused her coding, turning around to look up at the boy.

“You okay?”

“Are you? You’ve been through more than anyone.”

Raven sighed, clicking her tongue. “There’s nothing like a little pain to remind you you’re alive.” Jasper nodded as Raven stood up and headed over to the radio.

“I wish I had an upgrade.” He mumbled to himself. Raven kicked the other three out of the room, telling them she needed silence to fix the radio. They listened, leaving the mechanic to her work, unaware of the gun Jasper had just grabbed and tucked into his pants. As soon as the room was cleared, Raven fell into the chair next to her, no longer hiding the pain her leg is giving her. She slammed her hand down on the radio before picking up the microphone.

“Bellamy? Y/N? Clarke? Are you there? Arkadia to Polis, come in. Where are you?”

When Kane and Jaha came down from the tower, they were greeted with the same sight you were, only Jaha was filled with more guilt. “What have I done?” He whispered, watching grounders drag deceased members into piles scattered about.

Kane put a hand on his back, comforting his friends’ guilt. “What have we done?” he said, sharing the blame with him. Their presence caught Abby’s attention as she left the man she had just finished helping to them.

“I told you to stay upstairs with the rest of the wounded. Do you need another shot?” Jaha sensed her coldness, not replying as he moved past to help the hurt. Abby hid her sneer as she watched Jaha leave, moving to stand by Kane’s side. “Do Miller and Jackson have everything they need upstairs?”

Kane nodded, falling victim to the glares of several men around them. “They blame us for the chip. We’re not safe here anymore.”

“Wanheda!”

“Skaikiler!”

Kane and Abby’s head’s shot forth at the Grounder’s names for you and Clarke, both of their fears escalating as they watched the crowd separating and Clarke, Bellamy, and you walked through. Kane could see not only annoyance in your face but fear as your eyes met and he put a hand on your shoulder, silently checking with you. You appreciated it, hesitating before slowly pulling him in for a hug since when you were going to do it earlier you were cut off. Kane was shocked, but didn’t wait to return the action, tucking your head under his chin.

“We have to go. Rover’s in the north woods.” Clarke told Kane and Abby, who furrowed her brows.

“What about the wounded?”

Kane felt you shake your head as you let go of him. “We can’t help them. Not when they’re ready to kill Clarke and I if we even look their way.”

“The grounders don’t want our help.” Bellamy clarified, seeing your clenched jaw as you kept looking over your shoulder, meeting various eyes of pissed grounders. “We take our wounded back to Arkadia and treat there.” You and Clarke agreed, knowing it was the best option at the moment.

“Hello? Bellamy are you there?” Raven’s voice came from the radio in Bellamy’s pocket as he pulled it out, stepping of to the side to answer. Clarke was going to follow before Abby grabbed her, telling her they needed help with the wounded. You were about to help as well before seeing Bellamy glance back to you, nodding to join him.

“Raven? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. We’re all in one piece here.” A sigh of relief left both your mouths before Bellamy spoke up again.

“Raven we need you to look into something.”

“First tell me how my friends are.” She cut him off, making you grin at the girls tenacity. “Y/N?”

You took the radio from Bellamy’s hands, covering his with your own for a moment. “Alive only thanks to you. A raven sign? Brilliant.” You could hear the girl chuckle, knowing she’s patting herself on the back. “Hey Raven? Did ALIE ever mention why she made the City of Light?”

Raven thought for a second, trying to recall anything ALIE might’ve let slip but she shook her head, coming up empty. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

You groaned, feeling Bellamy put a hand on your back. “Because I think we have a problem.” You were about to tell her everything you told Bellamy minutes ago before yelling caught your attention, yelling in Trig about Roan being alive, needing a healer. Your attention was snapped away, completely forgetting Roan was shot because you asked for a favor. “Shit.” You mumbled. You thrusted the radio into Bellamy’s hand, aware of the confused look he was giving you.

“What are you-“

“He was only here because I asked him too. A favor, remember?” Bellamy nodded, your words jumbled as you backed away, pointing at the radio. “Just catch Raven up, please?” He tried to stop you, but you were already gone. He shook his head, walking to a quiet place to tell Raven what you knew.

Clarke, Abby, and Kane were already there as you knelt on the other side of Clarke from Abby as Roan was turned over to see his exit woundless back.

“No exit wound. We need to get the bullet out quickly.”

You wanted to know how you could help but your words were cut off as a cold sword was pressed to your throat and you threw your hands up, rising to your feet slowly. “Step away from our king.” The woman currently holding your life in her hands said to your friends as you turned to look at her, a hint of familiarity crossing her features. Clarke, Kane, and Abby all bargained for your release, telling her you were part of the coalition and Abby can save Roan. Grounders were ordered by the woman to take Roan back

“I know you.” you groaned when she kicked you in the leg and your knees hit the ground. Your hair was tugged back enough to reveal your neck when the woman narrowed her eyes. “You were in a cage in Mount Weather. You saved me before.” You reminded her, thinking back on the time Clarke and you were almost caught, this Azgeda grounder being the only reason you weren’t found hiding next to the cages.

“Echo!”

And just like that, Bellamy was back to keep you alive. He looked pissed and you didn’t miss the way his fist were clenched as he came storming over, seeing Echo with a sword to your neck.

“Wait, Bellamy don’t!” You shouted at him, seeing his determination not drop. “Kane!” Kane didn’t need you to tell him before he grabbed onto Bellamy, keeping him from finishing his distance.

“Let her go echo. Let her go!” Bellamy fought against him, eyes going between you and Echo as you begged him to calm down. You could hear swords drawn behind you as Echo taunted Bellamy, pressing the sword closer to you, lining up almost exactly to the cut Emerson left on your neck not long ago when you were in the same position.

“Back off Bellamy.”

“Echo?” you spoke rather slowly, not wanting to evoke her to hurt you. “Echo. The King is my friend. Let them help him.”

Echo let her sword drop slightly, listening to you. “I saw you in the City of Light. I know you destroy it.” You gulped, hoping this wasn’t going to be a repeat of earlier. “Thank you for that.” To saw you were shocked would be an understatement. She dropped her sword completely, sheathing it and grabbing your arm to pull you of the ground. As soon as you were on your feet Echo’s hand was on your back, pushing you right into Bellamy’s arms. He caught you easily, wrapping one arm around you to keep you upright as he brushed your hair out of your face, letting him look into your E/C eyes when he cupped your cheek. “Look around you.” Echo called to her people, getting everyone’s attention including yours and Bellamy’s. Skaikru did this to us. Because of them, Ontari, your rightful commander is dead.” Echo glared at Clarke. “This imposter stole the Flame.”

Kane stepped forward. “No. Because of her, Y/N was able to save us. If Wanheda hadn’t stolen the Flame, we’d all be dead- Grounders and Skaikru.” She countered him, saying without Skaikru there’d be nothing to be saved from.

“Kane.” You mumbled, reaching forward to tug on the man’s arm, knowing he was fighting a loosing battle. He saw you tilt your head, knowing you were signaling for him to stop. He stepped back, turning his back to Echo as you looked at her. “Azgeda doesn’t have any authority here.”

“We do now.” She smirked at you, turning to address everyone once again. “In the name of Kind Roan, as rightful caretakers of the throne of the commanders, Polis is now under Azgeda rule.”

“The hell it is!” A woman shouted as she approached Echo. “Where is your war chief, girl?”

“Our war chief is dead, Ambassador.” Echo gave you a side glance before stepping towards the older woman. “As a member of the Queen’s guard, command of the army has fallen to me, until the King awakens.”

“If he awakens.” The woman corrected her, and you hid a small gasp of guilt. “Until a new Commander can ascend, Polis is to be ruled by ambassadors of the Coalition. If Azgeda wants it, they must take it by force.”

Everyone seemed to agree by the rules you knew were correct, but there was no way this was going to be that easy. Just as the thought crossed your mind, Echo sliced the woman’s throat and the woman fell to the ground. “Consider it taken.” Echo mumbled. She picked her head up. “No Skaikru leaves this city! For Azgeda!”

Bellamy’s hand tightened around your waist as Ice Nation cheered, both of you watching the men pump their weapons in the air. “Looks like saving the world will have to wait.” He whispered in your ear as you nodded, looking to Echo. The smirk on her face as she chanted to your people before looking at you concerned you. You pulled yourself to look away, settling on Bellamy. This wasn’t going to end well.

After everything Jaha did, he wanted to repay everyone. He helped carry dead bodies to piles, ignoring the frowns on everyone’s faces as they watched him. He groaned out in pain, his body full of aches from his injuries as he placed a deceased girl down. A woman’s cries not far from him reminded him his pain was only physical when he looked to see her clutching a man’s dead body.

His face sunk further as he approached her cautiously. “Let me help you.” His soft voice got her to look up, disgust written across her face. “Please?”

She spit in his face, her way of declining his offer.

“Good to see you’re making friends.” Murphy called out to him, having watched the whole debacle.

“Hello, John.” Jaha spoke to him as Murphy grunted, putting his hands on his hips. “Glad to see you made it down. I could use some help with the dead.”

“Go float yourself.” Murphy spat, his nose flaring at Jaha. “These dead are you too, Chancellor.” Jaha picked up another body, ignoring Murphy as he walked off in the direction of his girlfriend.

Emori was scavenging through packs and bodies, looking for anything she could find. “What are you doing?”

“Stocking up. What does it look like?” She smirked as Murphy squatted to her level.

“Stocking up for what?”

Emori sighed, not stopping her searches. “It’s not safe for my kind here. Freikdreina are forbidden.” She held up her hand as if Murphy needed a reminder of why she was different. “I have to leave this place, John.”

She moved onto the next body as Murphy scoffed. “So you’re just gonna bail on me again?”

“I didn’t bail on you.” Her voice was harsh as she dug her hand into the pocket of a woman. “I came back. I took the damn chip because Jaha said he would take me to you.”

Murphy bit his lip, suddenly realizing he was only fighting his girl earlier because she took the chip for him. “Hey,” he lowered himself, putting his hand on her arm to keep her from scavenging more. “Come to Arkadia with me.” Emori scoffed. “I’m serious Emori, okay? We can be together there. My people will protect you.”

“You sure about that? How many times have they cast you out?” Murphy paused. Emori had a point, he was always the cast out in the group, but so were you and you looked like you were doing fine.

“It’s different now. They owe me.” Emori still wasn’t convinced. He reached out to her, taking her deformed hand in his. “Please?”

He ran his thumb over the fabric covering her skin, Emori watching the action before considering her options. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.” They both let smiles take over. “We can still pick up a few things first, right?” Murphy nodded as Emori reached into her bag, pulling out Murphy’s bomber jacket. Murphy took it without any hesitation and held it out in front of him, grinning before throwing it on.

To protect Skaikru, you all took shelter in the Temple, rounding up as many of your people as the guards could find. You were standing next to Bellamy, leaning on the wall with your eyes closed as you heard Bellamy shift next to you to see you.

“Hey.” He whispered, nudging you with his hand. You opened your eyes, raising a brow for him to continue. He cleared his throat, trying to get the words out. “What were you going to say? Before Octavia and Pike?” You stayed quiet, just staring at him as he tried again. “Was it uh, was it the same thing you were going to say back at the Ark, with Emerson?”

Yes.

“No. I told you, I don’t remember what I was going to say then.” You lied, watching Bellamy lick his lips and nod.

“And today?” Again, you stayed quiet. Why couldn’t you tell him? 6 months left before the world is kaput and you were scared to tell a boy you were in love with him? Bellamy wanted to push you, he wanted to know if you were in the same boat as him, but he didn’t. Instead he glanced down to your neck, seeing the scarred tissue from Emerson then Echo before a hint of silver caught through from your shirt. He furrowed his brows, reaching up slowly in case you stopped him before uncovering your necklace. “You kept it? I thought you didn’t want it?”

“I didn’t.” you admitted, covering Bellamy’s hand with your own and holding the jewelry. “But I realized I can’t hide from my past. And Besides, it means a lot to me that you went back for it. Thank you.” Bellamy smiled. As much as he loved having the necklace, he liked seeing it on you better than on his bedside table.

The last of your people were collected as you and Bellamy shared one last look, ready to figure out the plan. Kane shook hands with one the guards, telling him to lead their people home and you all would stay. He winced at the contact, pulling up his sleeves to show his newly bandaged wounds from being on the cross. Abby watched him hide his injuries before she pulled up his sleeves, looking at his arm with a frown.

“I’m fine. We focus on the next step.” He assured her, bringing up a hand to caress her cheek, unknown to you and Clarke both watch them. You were happy for Kane, he could use someone like Abby in his life. By the look on Clarke’s face, she was in the same boat with her mom.

The door opened to the temple as you all turned to look, seeing Indra and Octavia come barreling in. Bellamy left you to close the door as Octavia came to you first, both of you hugging. “I’m glad you did it.” You whispered in her ear pulling away, sending her a look to know you weren’t lying. She nodded, appreciating your support. Kane approached Indra, not knowing how to apologize for everything he’d done. Indra didn’t need him to speak before she hugged him as well.

“What’s the plan guys?” you asked everyone, breaking up the reunions.

“When you destroyed the City of Light, there were a thousand Azgeda warriors inside the city of Polis.” Indra explained as you sighed, chewing on your lip as you listened.

“So, what I’m hearing is I had amazing timing.” You joked despite knowing there was no other way this could’ve worked in your favor.

“The only way to remove them is by force.”

“Then let’s remove them.” Octavia shrugged as if it was the simplest thing ever. Abby wanted to shut the idea down, telling them you’ll start a war.

Indra nodded, thinking about the clans. “Rockline, Flokru, and Broadleaf will join Trikru without question, but we'll still be short.”

Abby once again tried to deter the idea, convinced leaving now would be the best option. “They know where we live. If we run, they’ll follow.” Kane reminded her before looking to Indra. “There are 8 other clans, can we get them to join us?”

Indra wavered. “I can do it, but I’ll need the flame.” Clarke refused to give it up, despite you and Bellamy telling her the clans follow the flame, but Azgeda wouldn’t.

“Then we fight. That’s the point.” Octavia was getting tired of Clarke’s refusal.

“There’s no time for a fight. We have to save Roan.”

“Save him? They won’t let us near them.”

Clarke’s head turned to you, everyone following and seeing your eyes locked on the floor. Abby furrowed her brows. “What don’t we know?”

“The reason ALIE created the City of Light.” You muttered, looking to Bellamy and Clarke for guidance. Clarke nodded, Bellamy’s hand ghosting the back of your own as you took a deep breath. “Nuclear reactors inside power plants that survived the bombs are melting down. Radiation levels are already rising and until we figure out a way to fix it, we’re all dead in 6 months.”

The temple fell silent, everyone processing your news. “ALIE told you this?” Kane asked as you nodded. “And you believe her?”

“Raven’s looking into it.” Bellamy spoke for you, having told Raven he news like you asked him earlier.

“Even it’s true, that’s six months away. There are a thousand Ice Nation warriors on the street who want to kill us today.” Indra’s words only made you feel worse.

“They won’t kill us.” Clarke broke you out of your thoughts as you all stood confused.  “We’re gonna surrender.”

The plan was in play. Jaha left the tower with body in a nightblood soaked sheet, passing by Grounders as they dubbed the body Ontari. They let him pass, heading to their healer who was currently working on Roan. Attention was called as Jaha walked into the room.

Echo stood in front of him, raising a brow at Jaha’s offering of the body. “Ontari belongs with her people.” Echo agreed, telling a man to take her and put her with the other bodies. Jaha groaned as the weight was lifted off his shoulder, sending pain throughout his body.

“Show him how Ice Nation repays a favor to the bringer of the key.” Echo’s men listen, attacking Jaha with his injured shoulder before punching him and beating him repeatedly to bring him to the floor.  

“Skaikru is surrendering!” An Azgeda warrior shouted as he ran into the room. The beating stopped as eyes spun to the man, everyone waiting for Echo’s orders.

She didn’t know what to do at first, not believing Skaikru’s surrender. “Guard the king, the rest on me.” She started out of the room, ordering someone to bring Jaha. The Ice Nation made their way outside, coming to see where you, Indra, Kane, and several guards stood. Echo’s guards released Jaha at her order, letting the man stumble forward in pain. Echo grabbed his shirt collar, pulling him to her. “Tell them I only talk to Bellamy.”

You couldn’t hear much from across the courtyard, but there was no doubt you heard her say Bellamy. You looked up with only your eyes, looking at Bellamy watch through his scope as she pushed Jaha forward to you all. You gulped, ignoring the fright in your brain or the way your brows were drawing together.

What does she want with Bellamy?

You shook your head, catching Indra glance at you as met her look. The plan was working, Octavia was inside.

Octavia, who was brought into the healing room in the sheet as Ontari, quietly cut herself free, the only other people in the room being Roan and the healer as she slid herself off the table. She peered over to the healer, remaining unseen as she turned to the guards at the door. She pulled out her knives, running to the door and sliding with a yell as she sliced the man’s legs, bringing them to their knees before stabbing them in the chest. The healer turned around at the sound, shocked at what he saw before Octavia stood up, sending the guards spear hurling with perfect aim into the man’s face.

Clarke and Abby waited outside as Octavia opened the door, nodding behind her. “Your king’s on the table.” Clarke passed by Octavia, ignoring the dead bodies while Abby stood in shock. “Well.” Octavia said, knocking Abby out of her trance. “Go save him.”

It was nightfall by the time Bellamy was set to go talk to Echo, and you stood next to him with Kane and Indra, the older pair advising Bellamy as you tapped your foot, your arms crossed and a from on your face.

“She’s Ice Nation. She can’t be trusted.” Indra said, shaking her head as Murphy walked up to your group, standing next to you.

“Never a dull moment, huh?” Murphy called out, you and Bellamy instantly looking as Indra chastised Bellamy for not paying attention.

“She’s part of the royal guard, spies.” Indra carried on as if Murphy wasn’t even there. “That’s why she’s not marked. Very dangerous, very loyal.”

Bellamy scoffed, his head turning away from the woman. “Yeah not to the people who saved her life.” He looked upset, betrayed obviously, but why did the way he act make you uncomfortable, shifting in your spot and leaning against the wall. Murphy was the only one who caught your discomfort, a smirk forming on his face as Kane and Indra started to bicker about guns and he paid more attention to the conversation when Indra claimed she never agreed to give them guns.

“That’s probably because you’re not an idiot.” He snarked.

“Okay, am I the only one who doesn’t like this plan?” you spoke up, throwing your hands in the air. Sure you had done dumb things in your time to protect your people, the last day being your top, but Bellamy doing it was different.

“It won’t get far.” Kane tried to assure you, but it did nothing. “We just need time for Abby to save the King.” He looked to Murphy. “If you want to help, then grab a gun.”

“Here.” Bellamy said as he removed the gun from his shoulder. “Take mine.”

“Woah, Bellamy.” You said, putting your hand on the weapon to stop the transfer. “You’re going to talk to her with no weapon. Are you crazy?”

Bellamy didn’t say anything as he put your hand down, passing the gun to Murphy. He gave you all one last look before turning around and heading to talk to Echo. You scoffed, letting your head drop.

“How does it feel to have Azgeda want your boyfriend?” Murphy teased you, a playful smirk on his face that you just couldn’t match at the moment.

“Not the time, Murphy. Besides, he’s not my boyfriend.” You grabbed your bow off your shoulder and followed after Indra and Kane, watching Bellamy walk into the grasps of the enemy.

Murphy followed too, his smirk long gone when he realized how dumb his plan of staying at Arkadia was. “Sorry Bellamy.” He whispered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you weren’t watching as he snuck off, grabbing Emori to follow through on her plan to run away.

Bellamy gulped as he walked to the center of the courtyard, meeting Echo halfway. “Before you say anything, remember I saved Skaikiler’s life in Mount Weather the first time and I saved your life by taking you out of Mount Weather. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you to bring the girl. But I was following orders, Bellamy.”

Bellamy remained stoic as she spoke. “I wish it was that easy.”

Octavia watched her brother talk to Echo, shocked you’d allow him to go without you by his side. She groaned, telling Clarke and Abby to hurry up, but Abby insisted she needed more time as she dug around in Roan’s chest, looking for the bullet. Once the bullet was out, Clarke and Abby waited before noticing Roan’s breathing was too shallow.

You watched Echo talk to Bellamy, guns being offered much against Indra’s liking. And against your liking, the choice of war was thrown around. Echo gave Bellamy one last ultimatum: put your weapons down and they’ll let the children live, or everyone dies.

She turned to walk away, letting Bellamy decide but he grabbed her arm, stopping her from going. Within a second, Echo had Bellamy pinned to the ground, a knife pressed to his throat.

“Screw this!” you yelled out, running to Bellamy and Echo, dodging the hands of people grabbing you to stop. “Let him go!” you pulled back your bow, aiming an arrow at Echo’s head. You heard Kane yell your name and through your peripheral vision, hundreds of arrows were aimed, most at you, and some at Kane and Indra who went forward to stop you. “Let him go, Echo.” Echo knew how much Bellamy and you meant to each other from the way you and Bellamy both begged for the others release.

“Lexa isn’t here to save you this time, Skaikiler.”

You stared her down and refused to waver. “I don’t need Lexa to save me. I said let him go.”

“Y/N. Put it down.” Bellamy pled looking at the determined look in your eyes.

“Do as she says.” Kane tells your people and you ignored him, eyes locked onto Echo. “Y/N, put the weapon down.” The sound of guns behind you being put to the ground let you know every Azgeda weapon was on you.

“Y/N.” Bellamy whispered as you relaxed your bow and closed your eyes, groaning and putting your hands in the air. Some man came up and yanked the weapon out of your hand and threw it to Kane’s feet, forcing your hands behind your back.

Bellamy was forced to his feet, eyes locked on yours as you sneered at the man holding you. So, what if you messed up the plan, the plan didn’t involve Bellamy with a knife to his throat. You and Bellamy were separated from Kane and the others, lead to their med room and you hoped Roan was up, or else this wasn’t going to end well.

The doors opened, and Echo’s guards went in first, seeing Abby, Clarke, and Octavia trying to escape as they grabbed them. You and Bellamy barely made it a foot in the room before Echo’s sword was in front of both of your necks, picking your chins up. “They were trying to kill the King! Check them.” Echo ordered as the trio was forced to their knees.

“We were trying to save him.” Clarke tried to inform her. The sword was dropped from your necks as Echo went to Clarke.

“For my Queen!” She screamed as she lifted the sword into the air. Your eyes widened, realizing she was bout to kill Clarke.  

“Wait!” A groaned yell stopped Echo’s actions, everyone’s eyes snapping to Roan as he tried to sit himself up. He coughed as Echo dropping her sword, head bowing to her King.

“Roan…” you whispered, relieved he wasn’t dead. You weren’t aware of Bellamy glancing at you.

“Roan, help us. Tell them we’re friends.” Clarke begged as the man stood up, receiving a yell from Abby, but he didn’t listen.

“Where’s Ontari?” He coughed out, holding a hand to the hole in his chest he just discovered.

“Dead, sire, killed by them.” Echo spoke, giving Roan the half truth. Roan looked at you all, his eyes moving between Echo, you and Clarke as the blonde shook her head.

“We couldn’t save her, but we did what we came here to do.” Roan refused to look at Clarke, trying to determine the best actions. “Now I need you to honor your promise and protect my people.”

“That was before your people shot me and killed my commander.”

“We just saved your damn life.” Echo paid no mind to Octavia’s comment as she approached Roan, speaking quietly.

“Roan, your people are hungry for you to lead them. Do so now as your mother would have. Kill Wanheda, Skaikiler too. Take their power. And rule over everything.” You felt your stomach drop as Clarke turned to look at you, fear in her eyes only making you more mad as Roan looked forwards, catching your eyes move off Clarke to him.

Monty and Harper giggled as Harper rolled off Monty, giddy smiles on both of their faces as they relaxed in the bed.

“That was something.” Harper grinned as Monty panted, licking his lips and nodding. They both laughed before Harper quieted, looking over to Monty. “Hey, look. Um, now that everybody’s coming back, I just... I don’t want you to think that I expect anything.”

“What if I do?” Monty cut her off, grabbing her hand on his chest.

Harper’s smile spread across her face. “Well yeah, that’d be good too.” Monty joined her smile before leaning over and kissing her again.

The door to their room opened once against during their post sex bliss as Raven let herself in. “Sorry.” Raven said, looking away as the couple sat up.

“Knocking really isn’t your thing, is it?” Monty jokes but Raven didn’t laugh, instead getting serious.

“Get dressed and meet me in engineering.” She was about to close the door before Harper called out, asking what was wrong. Raven paused. “We’re all gonna die.” She said, not sugarcoating it as Monty and Harper stared on in shock.

Jasper was having a hard time since being out of the City of Light. All he wants to do is go back inside, but he can’t. But he couldn’t live with his pain either.

He put a pair of earbuds in and turned on his music, listening to the verses as he placed a suicide note next to his goggles, Monty’s name scribbled messily on the envelope. He grabbed the piece of art Maya had once showed him in Mount Weather, leaning it up against the wall and with just a few steps he settled himself down on a tarp, his eyes red as he mumbled along to the song. The gun that once was laid on the table was taken into Jaspers hands.

“I’ve been awake from deliverance.” He mumbled to the song as he stared at the gun, the thing that could easily end his life sitting in his hands. His eyes closed, the gun moving under his chin slowly as he took a deep breath.

Monty knocked on the door to Jasper’s room, knocking Jasper out of his head as the boy’s eyes opened, trying to block out the sound. “Jasper?” Monty called out as Jasper broke, pulling the gun from his head and scrambling to get up.

“One second!” He said as he tucked the gun into the back of his pants, turning down the note he left and opening the door. Monty tried to walk in the room, but Jasper stopped him as the boy looked at him confused.

“What we’re you doing?”

“Uh, nothing. Sleeping.” Jasper tried to convince him as Monty nodded slowly, telling him Raven needed them in engineering. Jasper sighed, looking back at his tarp covered room before following his best friend.

In engineering, Raven sat in front of the screens, all the info she researched for Bellamy and you up as the four of them looked at it. “After the second Fukushima disaster, Panacea Power patented a failsafe system with multiple redundancies. By 2048, two dozen mega reactors were built to withstand any disaster, even a nuclear attack.”

“Well that’s good, right?” Harper asked, uncertain why they were going to die.

“There’s always a catch.” Jasper grumbled and Monty furrowed his brows at him.

“The plants were built to be self-sustaining for a hundred years.”

“So, the warrantee just ran out.” Raven nodded to Monty as he walked over next to her. “This is us?” He pointed to a gauge, the needle pointing to yellow as Raven let out a loud sigh.

“Yeah. It’s been yellow since we landed. Now yellow we can handle thanks to our bodies adapting in space, but now its rising instead of falling. When it hits red-“

“We’re dead.” Jasper finished for her, looking at all the screens with a small hopefulness. “Uh, how long?”

“At the current rate of increase, 6 months, but it’ll be bad way before that. There’s no stopping it.” The group fell silent, the only sound being Jasper’s breathy exhale as he turned around. His sigh turned into curt laughs as he smiled. The other three, very confused and concerned for their friend, observed him.

“Oh. Oh man.” Jasper reached to the back of his pants and pulled out the gun as Harper reached for the one sitting on her hip and Monty’s jaw fell open. Sighing in happiness as he placed it down on the table, Jasper looked at them all. “I’m going to go watch the sunrise.” He told them with a smile as he walked out of the room, not caring about the terrified expressions on his friends faces as they watched him leave.

Roan held a knife into the fire next to him, heating up the blade. Echo walked into the room, a small smile on her face. “Wanheda and her friends are locked up. The rest of Skaikru appear to have fled, but we’ll ride them down on your command.”

“Not yet.”

Echo narrowed her eyes at her King, watching him pull out the now orange blade. “Forgive me Sire, but we can’t afford for people to think you’re weak.”

Roan didn’t speak before pressing the knife against his bullet would, cauterizing the wound without so much of a grunt. “Call me weak again.”

“I meant no offense.” She tried to backtrack.

“Yeah you did.” Roan groaned as he tossed the knife onto the table, picking up his shirt instead. “Say your piece.”

Roan began getting dressed as Echo spoke. “You haven’t been home in more than three years.”

“You act as if that was my choice.”

“Of course, I wasn’t. You were a bargaining chip. It almost broke your mother to send you away.” Roan interrupted her speech with a scoff. “Killing Lexa in Soulou Gonplei was to be your triumphant return, but you lost. Our war chiefs don’t respect you.”

“Then I'll get new war chiefs.”

“The army is loyal to them, not you.” Roan questioned her loyalty, knowing Echo’s loyalty lies with her promise as a spy. “I'm loyal to my clan, to my king. Let me serve you. I can help you do what your mother never could, what Ontari never could.��

“Rule everything?” Roan questioned, his head tilting in contemplation.

Echo nodded. “Yes. Trikru is weak and ready to fall, and Skaikru is more hated than ever. Give the order to take them both out, and our war chiefs will follow you. Show them Wanheda's head while you do it, and they will worship you.” She uncovered the wool package in her hand, holding out a crown made of bone with the Azgeda symbol on front. “Bring honor to your grandfather's crown.” Roan’s lips parted as he slowly picked up the crown, deciding what to do before giving his orders to his guards as they headed to where you all were locked up.

Your hands were locked in metal, keeping you standing in place between Kane and Bellamy. Roan was alive, but would he be on your side? Head against the wall, you kept our eyes closed as you thought about the last two days events. There had to some way to live, to stop the destruction of earth, but you couldn’t do that if you were locked in Grounder jail.

“Y/N?” Kane whispered to you as you turned your head, opening your left eye. He gave you a smile. “It’ll be okay.”

You let out a pithy laugh, biting your lip afterwards. “You say that now, but what about in 6 months when the world is gone? What about then?” His smile fell and he tried to reach out to you, but his bounds kept him from doing so. “What if I’ve killed us?” you whispered, loud enough for him to hear. “Was the City of Light that bad? I was there and you were there. Did I make a mistake?”

Kane heard your voice break as he shook his head. “You did the right thing. The City of Light needed to be destroyed.” He assured you as you took a deep breath, exhaling through your mouth and closed your eyes again.

“Thank you.” you whispered to Kane. You turned around seeing that Bellamy was looking at you, having heard your conversation with Kane. You were about to speak before the gates of the cell were opened, several guards coming inside. You thought they’d go to Clarke who scrambled to her feet, but instead they went to you. “What’s going on?” you asked them, pulling against them as they started to release your cuffs.

You listened to everyone shout for you and the guards, Clarke wanting to know where Roan was and Bellamy and Kane both shouting for them not to take you. The last thing you saw before a bag was thrown over your head was both of them pulling at their chains, trying to stop them from taking you.

To say you were terrified was an astute observation, but you were also pissed off. The bag was pulled from your head after you were led out of the cell, coming to stand in front of Roan.

“Skaikiler, as requested. Shall I summon the War Chiefs?” Echo asked as you furrowed your brows. They were going to start with you?

“No. Get out.” he ordered Echo and against her desires she led the guards out of the room.

You watched Echo leave the room, before looking towards Roan again, waiting an explanation. “Why me? Why not Clarke? Isn’t she the one your people want dead?” You jumped right in, not expecting Roan to begin.

“They want you dead, too.”

You nodded, your lips falling into a thin line. “So, why aren’t I?”

“Because you’re the only Skaikru I trust.”

You let out a real laugh as you threw your head back in amusement. “Your people don’t seem to like me.”

“I thought we were friends.” He had a cocky smile on his face as you put a hand to your heart, pretending to squeal.

“Aw, we gonna get matching friendship bracelets? Gonna get a club name?”

“You finished?” he asked amusedly.

You just carried on, moving past him as he turned around with a fond smile. “We could call ourselves ‘The Banished’.” You faked suggested, turning around and crossing your arms, seeing him raise a brow at you. “What do you think? A little out there?”

“Is there more?”

You dropped the act, done playing games. “We need your help Roan. The only way that can happen is if you start trusting that Skaikru knows what’s best for the clans.” He was taken back by your change of emotion, despite knowing you were humoring him.

“And what is best for the clans, Skaikiler?”

“You know we’ve been over this, you can call me Y/N, right? That is my name.” He rolled his eyes, coming to stand closer to you as you stood with the same bored expression.

“What’s best for the clans, Y/N?”

“Something’s coming, Roan. The fire that ended the world? Lexa called it Praimfaya. It’ll be like that, a wave radiation that will kill everything in its path.” Roan wasn’t listening, telling you his ancestors survived and his people will too. “You won’t. Not without us.” Shouting from outside made you turn around, Roan and you sharing a look before moving to the window. You bit your lip. “I don’t know if we can stop it, but in 6 months if we don’t we’re dead. Science is out only hope, and hope that Skaikru is the only clan that can provide. Honor Lexa’s coalition. Recognize Skaikru as the 13th clan and we’ll go home and figure out how to survive. How we all survive.”

The shouting got louder as Roan looked out amongst Polis, hearing people cheer for your deaths. “Listen. I let you live, you’ll be dead in 6 days, forget 6 months. Sorry. No can do.”

You knew Roan had a price, there was one thing he wanted, something Clarke was the only person who could provide. “I’ll give you the Flame.”

Roan turned to look at you, mistrust written across his face. “We were told it was lost.”

“You were told correctly. I just happen to know who took it.”

“Wanheda.” He whispered as you quirked your eyebrow, letting him know he was correct. “Tell me why I shouldn’t just take from her and cut your heads off anyways?”

You chuckled, looking out amongst the crowd. “Because I still owe you a favor. Can’t repay you if I’m dead.” Roan seemed to agree with you, considering your proposal. “The clans will follow you. That's what you want, right?”

“I want what's best for my people, same as you.”

“Then it sounds like we have a deal. You control who ascends. With the Flame, there will never be a commander to rule over Azgeda unless you allow it.

“And Wanheda would give it up?”

You paused, hoping Clarke would agree. “Leave it to me. I can handle Clarke.” Roan nodded, calling echo and his guards back in. Echo shot you a glare as she entered, receiving orders from her King to retrieve Clarke. As soon as she returned with Clarke, Clarke’s nerves were put to rest when she saw you alive.

“Thank god.” She sighed before hugging you. You hugged her back, shooting Roan a plead for a moment alone and he nodded, leaving you both alone in the room.

Clarke was confused as Roan left, looking to you for an explanation. “He’s agreed to help.” You told her, seeing her face brighten before she got suspicious. “There was a price.” You reached into her pocket, pulling out the Flame and holding it out to her. “We have to give him the Flame.”

“Y/N-“

“I know.” You stopped her, seeing her eyes start to water. “I know it’s Lexa, believe I know. But we don’t have a choice here. Roan’s promised to honor the coalition, to give us time to find a solution. We just have to give him the Flame.”

“Do you trust him?” She asked you.

You didn’t hesitate, but you thought about it. “I do.”

She wiped her eyes. “Okay. Then I trust you.”

You were shocked it was that easy, but you hadn’t known Clarke already said goodbye to Lexa down in the cell. “I’m really sorry, Clarke.” She nodded and put a smile on her face.

Roan came back inside, seeing the Flame in your hand as you held it tight before holding it out to him. He graciously took it, holding it up to see it in the light. “I honored my side. Time to do the same.”

Roan held an assembly, speaking to your people and his own as you listened, surrounded by your friends. “I know you've all come here for an execution, but no one else will die here today. The City of Light has fallen and there is no commander left to rule us. Until another nightblood ascends, I, King Roan of Azgeda, eldest son of Nia, Grandson of Theo- am Caretaker of the throne and keeper of the Flame.” He held up the flame, letting everyone get a good look at it as you felt Clarke stiffen momentarily next to you as shouts of disapproval roared from the crowd.

“You’re a King, not a priest!”

“This is blasphemy!”

Indra slowly turned around, the voice of the last protester familiar as she searched the crowd.

“Not Blasphemy. Order!” Roan went on. “Until another ascends, Azgeda will honor and defends the coalition of the last true commander, Lexa Kom Trikru, including the 13th clan. Let it be known that an attack against Skaikru is an attack against us all.” Roan looked out amongst the crowd, meeting your eyes.

“Thank you.” you mouthed to him as he nodded.

Roan told you were to meet after the announcement and for 15 minutes that’s where you all stood waiting as Echo finally showed up.

Bellamy walked up to her, glancing back at you to follow but you didn’t, allowing Bellamy to talk to Echo alone. “From your king.” She said, holding out a wrapped package. She opened it up, the Ice Nation seal sitting in her hand. “With this, you’ll be safe in any of lands.” He took the crest but Echo didn’t let him pull it away. “You think we’ll ever be able to trust each other again?”

“I doubt it.”

She nodded, letting him take it. She looked at all of you, a frown on her face. “Welcome back to the coalition.”

Bellamy turned around, seeing you stare after Echo as she walked away. “Time to go.

“We’ll do our best to keep the king on his throne.” Kane told Bellamy, Clarke, and you as you nodded.

“If you all screw this up, we’re dead. No pressure.” Octavia joked but Bellamy ended her fun, reminding her this was serious and if anyone found out why Roan helped every clan would come after you all.

Knowing it was getting dark out and you all had to get moving, you started your goodbyes.

You hugged Octavia first as Kane and Bellamy shook hands and Kane gave Bellamy advice. “You turn the page and you don’t look back. You do better today than you did yesterday. You understand? Before you it, you’ll deserve to survive.”

“I hope so.” Bellamy nodded, stepping aside to let Kane say goodbye to you. You hugged Kane before pulling away, seeing him give you a lopsided smile as you, Bellamy, and Clarke turned away, heading back to Arkadia.

“The youth inherited the Earth.” Kane mumbled to Abby, both of them watching their respective “kids” head off.

“And now they have 6 months to save it.” Abby added as you disappeared from their lines of sight.

As for Praimfaya, its already making its way across the globe. A couple, man and woman crossing the desert in Europe, found it out the hard way. Their bodies were covered in burns, as they tried to find sanctuary. The man collapsed, his partner falling with him as she panted, trying to get him to respond to her but he wouldn’t answer. She let out a sob, barely able to make a sound from her dried throat. At an odd sound, she pulled herself up, trudging atop a sand dune to look upon pyramids.

But along with the structures a wave of radiation came upon her. She let out a scream as the radiation took her over, her skin burning off as she fell to her knees and her body was swept away.

6 months, starting now.

A/N: Season 4! Wow! So much to come, just a heads up, this is going to probably be a busy season. Flashbacks will happen in quite a few episodes, some back on the ark, some back during the 3 month gap, so please make sure to drop your thoughts in the comments or on asks! ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY JENNA!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

A/N 2: I’ve been trying to log into Tumblr all day, I wanted to post this by noon my time and it’s after 11 at night. I was so close to saying fuck it and just accept my fate of not posting. Then it finally worked, thank god, so I’m sorry I didn’t post this earlier!

Are you guys ready? BANISHED TAGS OPEN!

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @saturn-aka-six​ @nathaliabakes @whyamihere-bro @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @hollymac79 @delicately-important-trash @emcchi @rauwz @herondalescecilys @chewymoustachio @smilexcaptainx @wellhellotherelovey

Bellamy: @jodiereedus22 @nyxxxwtp @danielabetancourth @a-sweet-little-fangirl @bellkadia @werosies​

**If you were on the banished tags when I posted the teaser and are removed now, send me an ask and ask to be added again because I might’ve made a mistake!!! I hope you’d forgive me if I did!

Banished: @strangerliaa​ @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash @abysshaven @poisoned-girl @captainam-erika-trash @annoylinglyaries @peqchynero @buckysjuicyplums @your-typical-giggle @thelastdragon6 @savannah0111 @mckeeee-1 @disneychic8 @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis @oopsiedoopsie23 @crashlyrose @miindfvl @hurricane-abigail @thebookisbtr @txladyj-blog @lauren-100 @mrsjandrews @astroninaaa @broco8 @kittymcdougall12 @capsheadquaters

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Sunshine City: One

A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked the prologue. You’re all very, very kind. I hope you continue to like this story. SO! Fun fact, my computer glitched and deleted this chapter and the next chapter for Blood in the Rivers AND the next chapter for my Din fic over on Ao3. Yeah. It was a good time. 

Pairing: (Eventual) Agent Whiskey x F!Reader (No Y/N)

Word Count: 3.4k

New York glittered when the sun hit it just right. Light bounced from one skyscraper to the next and made the mess of glass and metal and stone shine like a puddle of diamonds. Of course, that was only true if you were sixty stories up.

It had been three years since she’d joined Statesmen. Three years of being shot at by cartoon-like henchmen and nearly poisoned by a man who definitely twirled his mustache. It had been a wild ride. She’d swapped her usual glock for suitcases that fired missiles, her usual pant suit for a pair of jeans and a blazer, and her name for a stupid code word. Their given names didn’t exist anymore, really. She wasn’t even sure she’d answer to it if she heard it on the street.

She was Capri Sun—the sugar filled silver pouch juice that American kids slurped up like it was crack on a hot summer day. And she would only admit on threat of death that she enjoyed the juice drink, too. A sinking feeling had her thinking Champagne knew about her proclivity for the childhood juice. The code-name in and of itself denoted her status as a field agent and her lack of presence at the “high table” where everyone had taken their monikers from alcohol. The paperwork of being higher-ranking put her off ever trying to achieve it. But yes, Capri-Sun. Most called her ‘Cap’ for short.  

But some…

“Sunny!”

She turned away from her window to face Agent Whiskey, her boss and general terror of her existence. “Yes, boss.” It wasn’t even surprising that he’d let himself in to her office. That had stopped being a shock about two months into her new employment. 

He sauntered up to her, hips cocked to the side as he stopped. His ridiculous Stetson was still on his head and he looked out her window, too. “Still enjoying the view?”

“It never gets old.” She stepped away from the window and his side and settled into her high-backed chair behind her desk. “What do you need?” He chuckled and dragged his fingers across her desk as he made his way toward one of the chairs on the other side. His legs were spread and she absolutely did not look below the belt of his too-tight jeans. Nope. Absolutely not. “I sent in my report for that Milan job. Did you have questions?”

His large hand scrubbed at his jaw before he leaned forward. “You’ve been with Statesmen for three years, Sunny.”

“Yes, I can read a calendar.”

His smile grew. “Then you know what today is.”

“Friday.”

“And?” He tilted his head to the side, dark eyes sparkling.

“And I’m leaving the office in 42 minutes.”

His smile fell the slightest bit. “Three years is a long time for a Statesmen, Sunny. Let me and the rest of the crew take you out for a few drinks to celebrate.”

She looked at him, watching his smile fade just a bit more with each passing second, before answering. “No.”  

“Well, why not? You never come out with us.”

“I don’t drink, boss. You should know that with how many times I’ve told everyone in this building.” She leaned back in her chair, gut twisting. “But thank you for the offer.”

His smile was still present as he slapped his knees before rising to his feet. “You know, one day, I’m going to get you to have some fun with the rest of us.”

“Okay, boss,” she said to his retreating back, tone bordering on placating. 

“I mean it!” He shouted over his shoulder. “You need to let loose, Sunny!” Whiskey stopped and turned just on the other side of her doorway. “And I’d love to see it happen.” He then walked away, tight jeans and all. 

It was only when she heard the elevator doors close did she let out her breath, long and slow. 

Agent Whiskey was the terror of her life, that was true. He was gorgeous and kind and flirty—and a good boss to boot. But he also fucked anything with tits and had no qualms about it. More than once, she’d caught him with his tongue down some mark’s throat when she was supposed to be keeping an eye out for any henchmen—or nosey husbands. He obviously knew what he was doing. The dazed, hungry look that his conquests always sported after spending an ounce of time with him was one hell of an indicator. 

It would be a lie to say that she hadn’t thought about how it would feel for him to kiss her, to hold her, to fuck her. But she’d seen firsthand what workplace romances, especially in a field as volatile as international espionage, could reap. 

She also knew of Whiskey’s tragedy. Ginger Ale had softly whispered it when she had seen the moon-eyes Sunny had made at her boss when he wasn’t looking.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Cap.”

And that had been it, really. 

She could keep him at a distance and still do her job. She could be a professional. She’d been trained to suppress her emotions to manipulate others and complete missions. This would be the same. She was here to help save the world from the shadows—not fuck her boss. The feelings would fade, right? 

Well, it had been two and a half years since she’d noticed how his eyes sparkle and she still hadn’t fully recovered.

Her overall-prickly disposition hadn’t changed. That was just who she was. And she wasn’t sure if she would be able to change it even if she wanted to—she just hated how Whiskey seemed to see it as a challenge. She also hated that Whiskey continually rejected Ginger Ale as a possible member of the “high table” of the agency. She was strong, capable, and smart as hell. Ginger deserved to be sitting at the table as much as any other stupid-Stetson-wearing man.

She turned in her chair and looked out over the city again. Watched it sparkle. Yes. It was a beautiful view.

                                                   **

The door to her apartment squeaked when she opened it and the happy tap-tap-tap of paws against her wood flooring had a smile pushing at her lips. Her corgi, Bela, trotted into view. When he spotted her, he bounded over to her and stood on his hind legs and pressed his front paws against her jeans in welcome. She scooped him up into her arms and pressed a kiss to his one remaining ear, a sign of his puppyhood as a stray. “Hi, baby,” she murmured into his fur. She carried him into the kitchen and set him on the counter and he promptly sat down and waited for what he knew was coming. She pulled his bowl from the cabinet and his bag of food, too. The kibbles rang out as they hit the ceramic and his little stump of a tail wagged happily as she pushed the bowl in front of him. He ate as she put a bowl of veggie fried rice into the microwave for a few minutes. When it was finished, she hopped up on the counter and ate next to Bela.

“Long day?” She asked through bites of food.

Bela snorted at her before returning to his dinner.

“Yeah, me too.”

A knock at her door made her frown for the umpteenth time that day and she slid off the counter and set her fork in the sink before tossing the empty paper bowl into the trash on the way to the door. She peered through the peephole before swinging the door open.

“Pushing your luck today, boss.” She stepped back and let him in. “You know I’m a stickler for my weekends.” Especially when she’d just come back from a week-long stint in a different country.

He walked in and looked around just as he’d done every other time he’d invited himself over. “There’s a dog on your counter, Sunny.”

“He likes to feel tall when he’s eating.” She pushed the door closed and crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you need?”

“Champ called.”

Y/N groaned. “I just got back.”

“Well, that’s the beauty of it: your bags are already packed.” He smiled. “And I’m coming with you.”

She resisted the urge to sigh. “Where to now, boss?”

His smile widened. “Vegas.”

                                                     **

Las Vegas did not glitter like New York did. It was a buzz of neon lights in an array of harsh colors. And it smelled like stale beer cooked into the asphalt.

They landed a little before ten that night and the city was still very-much alive. She’d lost count of how many people she’d shoved out of her way on the walk from the hotel’s parking lot to the front entrance and she’d batted away more people handing out flyers for hookers than she wanted to admit.

She hated this city.

Homegrown terrorism was the New York office’s specialty and the group they were tracking had their fingers in lots of pots; drug trafficking, assassinations, kidnappings, and plots to use nuclear waste to create dirty bombs. They’d already tested one bomb off the coast of South Carolina. It had been a dud, thankfully, but still did enough for Statesmen to take notice. The goal of the terrorist group was to create a new world order with women firmly at the bottom.

The mission was supposed to be fairly simple—simple for a Statesmen, anyway. They needed to stop the group from obtaining any of the nuclear waste the US government had stored outside the city limits. There had been a tip that a sale was going to happen the next night between the terrorists and the suppliers and the goal, overall, was to get both groups off the streets. By any means necessary.

She and Whiskey were booked into a hotel suite across the street from where the targets were staying and had settled in for a bit of surveillance. The gadgets Statesmen had created were so much better than she could have ever dreamed of using in the CIA. Even something as benign as binoculars had been developed into something she had only seen in sci-fi movies—and she would never cease to be amazed by it—quietly, of course.

“Well, they look the type,” she muttered as she looked at the targets through the binoculars—three white guys with stained white t-shirts. One of them even had “Cool story, girl. Go make me a sandwich” written across his chest. She handed Whiskey the binoculars with a shake of her head.

He looked through them and chuckled. “Oh yeah.” He set the binoculars down and turned to her. “Is that what the kids call a ‘neckbeard’?”

She choked on her spit and earned a thump on the back from her boss. “Um, yes. Those are neckbeards.” She cleared her throat. “Are you trying to learn new slang?”

“World’s changing, Sunny. I should at least try to keep up.”

The familiar compulsion to smile pulled at her lips but she snuffed it out, as she always did with Whiskey. She wanted to smile with him, laugh with him. Wanted to talk with him about what he’d seen out in the field and through the years at Statesmen. But she was sure it would only lead to more conflicted feelings about the man. So, she bottled it away.

Whiskey yawned.

“I’ll take the first shift. Get some sleep.” She pulled the binoculars out of his grip.

“That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me, Sunny.”

“Good thing you don’t have to be a gentleman with me—” She quickly froze, hearing how those words sounded. “I mean. You’re my boss. J-just go get some sleep, boss.” He chuckled as he looked at her, the familiar low sound making her stomach twist and the familiar butterflies rage.

“You sure?” He asked and rose from his seat near the window. The artificial light bleeding into their room bathed him in blue, making him look like some old-time movie star. His smile was soft but she could see the tiredness ringing his eyes. It was the one thing he’d never been able to hide.

“Yeah. Our intel said they shouldn’t be trying to make the purchase until tomorrow anyway. Just don’t snore and I won’t have to kill you.”

“Fine, Sunny. You win this round. Wake me three hours.” He smiled again as she nodded and his fingers curled around her shoulder and squeezed in thanks before he walked toward the separate bedroom their suite provided and closed the door behind him.

She looked at the door for a moment and then turned and raised the binoculars again.

A few minutes trickled by and she could hear him snoring through the door. She almost smiled.

Hours ticked by. The targets were getting blown and doing blow. Classy. Her watch beeped as it reached 3AM and she mulled over just letting Whiskey sleep for the night. She slept on the plane but knew he didn’t—he never did on commercial flights. But she knew she needed to get at least a few hours of sleep if she wanted to be productive tomorrow so she tip-toed over to the bedroom and opened the door. A sliver of light creeped through the room to show Whiskey sprawled across the bed in just a t-shirt and boxers. The rest of his clothing was neatly folded on the bedside table. His face was scrunched into scowl and he turned one way and then the other as the sheets were gripped tight in his fists.

“No…” He muttered through clenched teeth. “No!”

Nightmares were not anything new for her or any other professional in their field. The horrors of their job are bound to leave a mark no matter how well a mission is done and lives are saved. Maybe it would be kinder to wake him…

Slowly, she reached out and grasped his wrist and shook it a bit.

He didn’t move.  

She shook him a bit more but then gave up and grimaced, thinking of what she should try next. A traitorous memory of her mother waking her up by gently brushing the backs of her fingers against her cheek came to mind and her own-tired brain thought she might as well try it. She sat on the edge of the bed and brushed her fingers against his cheek with a quiet, “Whiskey.”

The speed in which his eyes opened and he sat up and wrapped his hands around her throat as he pinned her to the mattress would have been impressive she didn’t feel her air being cut off in the perfect stranglehold. The mint from his toothpaste and the last traces of his expensive cologne brushed against her nose. His eyes were hard but unfocused as he stared at her. And she would blame the shiver that racked her spine on fear and not on the tight coiling in her belly. Maybe this job had actually messed her brain up. But being strangled wasn’t exactly a new sensation and the man strangling her was still her boss.

“Whiskey.” The name was pushed out against his grip, rasping in her throat. She raised her hands and gently held his face. It was a common technique to give the other person a grounding sensation, to continue to wake them up as their mind waffled between their nightmare and reality. “It’s just me, boss.” His tired eyes focused and he immediately dropped his hold, sitting upright with his knees still bracketing her thighs. Her hands dropped from his face, the scruff of his unshaved face catching against her palms.

“Jesus, Sun. I’m so sorry.” He lumbered off her as she sat up and curled into himself, pressing the heel of his palm against his brow. “Fuck.” He turned toward her and brushed her hair away from her neck with shaking fingers. His hands were warm and the pads of his fingers trailed against her neck and the simple touches stole the breath from her lungs for the second time that night. All of her training, all of her careful interactions, and planning to keep him at arm’s length evaporated as he traced touched her so gently. Whiskey’s touch was soft and deliberate, almost reverent as he brushed against her pulse point, feeling it steadily beat. And that seemed to not be enough for him because his touch slipped away before he gently grasped at the back of her neck and dragged her close, pressing his forehead against hers.

She had dreamed of holding him close like this, close and soft and unburdened by the woes of the world. But there was still a dull throbbing around her neck. And she knew the terrors that plagued his resting mind—they were the same as hers. An ache that settled in her bones when she realized that this was too close. Too close to the pipedream she’d concocted like a lovesick teenager. Too close to something she would never have. But she couldn’t pull out of his hold. “I caught you off guard during a mission. My fault.”

He nudged his nose against hers and her entire chest seemed to clench. His eyes closed and an unsteady breath brushed against her lips. Whiskey held her there for a little while and she felt his heartrate start to slow. And that was when she pulled back.

His dark eyes were unreadable and he turned to throw his legs over the edge of the bed. It was almost ridiculous how cold she felt when he stood. “It’s okay, boss. Really.”

He huffed as he pulled on his jeans. “It’s not fine. It’s… It just isn’t okay.”

While it was impressive to see him wiggle into his tight jeans and she definitely filed the image away for later, she couldn’t help but notice how his shoulders remained slumped. The usually vivacious Whiskey was refusing to meet her eye.

“I’ll wake you up around seven.”

Before she could stop herself, she reached out and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “Whiskey. Look at me.”

It took him a moment, but he did.

“I’m fine. Everything is okay.”

He pulled out of her grasp only to grab her hand and press a kiss against her palm.

“You’re too good to me, Sunny.” He squeezed her hand again before letting it drop. “Get some sleep.” He left the room without a glance back and the door clicked softly in its frame.

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself. “Fuck.” She pulled off her shoes and jeans and angrily settled into the bed he’d just vacated. Why had she gone and tried to comfort him? He was her boss. Just her boss. She repeated it over and over again to try to tell herself that it was true.

But the pillow smelled like him.

                                                         **

The buy was supposed to happen at a club inside The Mirage. She’d slipped into a slinky dress and heels and stashed her gun and small knife on her thighs with Statesmen-issued garters and fixed her hair and makeup to blend in with the crowd she knew would be filling the dance floor. She looked good, she knew she did. And that was the reason behind the slight spring in her step as she exited the bathroom. Whiskey had pulled on yet-another pair of dark wash jeans and a dark blue button-down that stretched across his chest in an almost obscene sort of way and she had to actively fight to not swallow hard.

“You look like a glass of water on a summer day, Sunny.”

“That’s probably the most coherent metaphor you’ve ever come up with, boss. I actually understood that one.”

He smiled and grabbed for his Stetson before she slapped his hand.

“We’re in Vegas. No Stetson.”

He sighed dramatically but didn’t move for it again. “Fine, fine.”

She grabbed the binoculars off the table and looked out toward the targets’ room across the street to make sure they hadn’t left just yet. What she saw made her pause. She lowered the binoculars and turned toward her boss.

“What is it?” All traces of his smile faded from his face and he took the binoculars from her loosening grasp.

She watched him look through the binoculars and frown before he turned to her. His mouth opened and closed without a sound coming out. So, she said it: “They’re turning blue.”

A/N: So, please let me know what you think! 

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @spookyold-saintjm​ @honestlystop​ @paryl​ @fioccodineveautunnale​