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nitannichionne · 4 years

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Leading Lady, Chapter 17: Vegas Mission (A Henry Cavill Cast Fic)

Chapter 17: Vegas Mission (Shane POV)

I was determined, on a very personal mission as we flew into Vegas. It was Thursday, so I had until Friday night. I was quiet on the flight, thinking about what happened in Phoenix:

We were signing autographs and taking pictures at the con. So far, she was doing autographs and I was taking more pictures than anything, recognized from BBC and Kitara's covers. She was answering lots of questions, discussing books, and I could tell, trying not to look at me because some questions were about our relationship.

Then this actor type showed up.

He gave a small smile. "You probably don't know me--"

"You look familiar," Kitara frowned. "You did a movie on Lifetime, a thriller suspense one!"

"I did!" He looked relieved.

"Rob? Rob, uh--"

"Wilson," he seemed happy to be remembered. "I heard you were going to be here, and I had to meet you."

"Really?"

Oh, my God, was she eating this? I stepped up next to her after taking a picture.

"I have been following you for years now, so of course if there's any role I can be considered for, I'd appreciate it." Rob smiled. "But I do have a question."

"Shoot."

"Why did you hide?" he asked. "I am looking at you and--"

"I know!" I said, putting an arm around her. "I thought the same thing."

"Oh, I didn't know you'd be here. You're uh--from Britain, right?"

"Yes," I offered my hand. "Zachary Sheridan."

"Nice to meet you," Rob nodded. "Oh, you've got someone there waiting."

An excited fan was waiting to take a picture with me.

"Oh, excuse me," I smiled, touching Kitara's hand and moving away to take the photo. I strained to hear what was said.

"So, how's it going? Heard it's your first con tour."

"Alright," she nodded. "It's so much easier with Shane around."

"Shane?"

"Oh, Shane---" she nodded in my direction, and was surprised to make eye contact with me. "Shane is his real name."

"Oh, so you guys are on a real first name basis."

"Yes," she smiled.

He gave a small smile. "What other basis are you on?"

She blinked. "We're getting to know each other."

"Hmm." He nodded. "Well, please let me know if you need anything." He put his phone numberin her phone and handed her a card. "I hope to hear from you."

"Uh, thanks."

I was boiling inside as I thanked the fan and she left. This guy was basically flirting with her! And since we were working, I couldn't stay by her side. That little--

"Rough, huh?"

I turned to see none other than Colin Wayne standing there. "Uh, hi."

"Study long, study wrong, man," Colin shook his head. "Make a move!"

I turned to look at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"Hey!" Colin greeted a little loudly, and took my hand to shake it. "If I sat like you did, I would have never gotten my wife, and never had my son."

I felt stupid. He was young, but ahead of the game in this respect, I reckon. I sighed. "I want to-"

"Fortune favors the bold, man," Colin's eyebrows raised, putting his arm around me and posing for selfie with me. "I heard that she approached you to be her cover for her book. She approached me, too, but she never sent me a manuscript."

"I know."

"Like--your girl--said, if you know, act like you do," he advised, clicking his phone. "More models and actors are seeking her out. Nothing wrong with that, but if I were you, I'd be drawing lines in the sand, like, all around her." He gave a smile. "That's the soldier in me, though."

"Thanks, you just confirmed something for me." I told him, offering my hand. "Thanks, Colin."

"Anytime, Shane, anytime." He left, waved at Kitara and joined his family off in the distance.

"Shane?"

I was startled for a second, coming out of deep thought. "Uh, what?"

Kitara frowned. "What on earth were you thinking about? You looked...different."

"Nothing, darling," I said quickly, back in the present and on the plane. I covered her hand with mine. "I guess I just want to stretch my legs, go for a jog after we land and get settled."

"Jog?" she repeated with a scoff. "You're on your own there, fella."

I smiled, knowing that was what she would say. She loved to cycle, not to jog. "Tell you what, you hit the spa, I'll hit the gym this morning. We'll meet up for a late lunch or early brunch."

"Okay," she raised an eyebrow. "What are you up to?"

I was about to think of something to say, and she raised both eyebrows, her way of telling me to tell the truth. "If I told you I wanted to go out with you tonight, would you hold it against me?" I saw her expression become so sweet and tender, I couldn't help but take her hand and kiss it.

"Oh, that'd be...so nice," she looked as if her eyes were misting. "You mean, like dress up and everything?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "And we have time to do all that activity stuff Friday or Sunday or Monday."

"Or spread it out," she seemed pleased with this idea. "I'm...you made plans for us!"

"Yes, I made plans," I told her. "And I pulled a few strings. We're staying at the Luxor."

She let out a squeal that had people on the plane looking at us. "Oh, Shane!"

"I missed your birthday earlier this year, darling," I murmured. "Am I forgiven?"

"YES!" She hugged me tight, and whispered. "I've never been to Vegas. This is going to be...epic!"

"Vegas, epic, that definitely goes hand in hand," I told her, trying not to laugh. I kissed her temple.

As soon as we landed and checked in, I told her to look for shows she wanted to see, or casinos she wanted to visit. She ran off to the spa with barely a word, but kissed me goodbye. She was so excited, so giddy.

I did plan on hitting the gym, but not the one at the Luxor. I had friends at the Excalibur, and I had a favor to call in. The hotel was set in medieval times and I wanted to do something for her. I wanted to do a duel or something. That was easy to rig. A ninety minute workout with some old friends, a quick review of swordplay to show I still had the skill, and a promise to try to get them into one of the movies and I was in. I sent headshots of my old pals to Rick and crossed my fingers, but at least I kept my part of the deal.

Finally, I had one thing left to do. I put on a cap and sunglasses and hopped in a cab. "The Black Room, please." In minutes I was there. I even left the cab running; this wouldn't take long.

The clerk was dressed for the place, and she took one look at me and smiled. "How can I help you?"

"I'd like a pair of handcuffs, and do you adjust the length of chain?"

The clerk's smile broadened. "Anything you need."

"Perfect."

@mistress-of-ward @summersong69 @griscka75 @kebabgirl67

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fluff #august walker #captain syverson #clark kent #geralt #superman #sherlock #witcher #walter marshall #will shaw

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queenbirbs · 4 years

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the way home | epilogue | Edward x MC

Pairing: Edward Mortemer x MC

Warnings: some language

Word count: 1,340

Read from the beginning

Read on AO3

------

“If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends, make it last forever, friendship nev-- ow! fuck you, scrubby pad! -- eeeeennddss.”

“Babe?”

From her squatted position on the shower floor, Gabby groans and leans back to poke her head around the corner.

“Yeah?” she calls out.

“Your phone’s going off.”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, what does it say?”

There’s a brief pause, and then: “It’s all notifications from something called are slash time travel.”

“Ooh! Can you bring it to me?”

“My hands are covered in spackle.”

“Mine are covered in bleach, though,” she whines.

There’s a sigh, then the sound of footsteps coming down the creaky hallway. A moment later, Iman pushes open the door and winces.

“Holy shit, how much Comet did you use?”

Jumping to her feet, Gabby cheerfully abandons the chemical-induced haze of the guest bathroom shower and takes her phone from her girlfriend.

“Thanks, honey.”

“The window’s… why isn’t the window open? I’m opening the window.”

She nods her head, letting Iman fuss in the background while she swipes open the app. Her breath catches at the top post’s title: I think I found the new celebrity time traveler.

The body of the post is copied from an article published by National Geographic that details a new historical discovery.

“Our running theory was that this was a Dread Pirate Roberts situation,” Professor Belinda Doyle explained. Doyle, a professor of history at Boston College, focuses her work primarily on piracy and smuggling in the 17th to 18th centuries.

“We believed that the strange gaps in the timeline meant that Captain McTavish was either killed in battle or hanged, and that another female pirate using that same name would take her place. We know now that wasn’t the case, thanks to the artifacts and documents that have been uncovered. Instead, McTavish was disappearing over the years to have a family. It would’ve been hard, certainly, for a female pirate during that time to take on raising a child. With the legend she made of herself, it makes sense that she would’ve kept her family as much of a secret as possible.”

Several items were found on Tiburon, a tiny island in the northern Caribbean, including a painting, a glass ornament, and a small chest of other artifacts. Most of the objects are in near-mint condition. The blown-glass trinket is still wrapped in a cloth with a slip of parchment tucked inside. The documents inside the chest include ship logs, inventories, letters, and birthday cards. The most stunning relic is the family portrait, painted by famed artist Marianne de la Vega sometime in the 1760s. The painting features McTavish, her husband Captain Edward Mortemer, and their two children.

Past the text dump are side-by-side photos of Elena’s old headshot and a copy of the painting.

“Oh, my god!” Gabby sprints out of the bathroom and down the hallway to show Iman. “Honey, look! Look, it’s her! I found her, it’s her!”

“Babe, stop, you’re going to get bleach all over the new… holy shit! It’s her!”

------

“You’re fidgeting again.”

“I don’t make it a habit of sitting in one place and not moving.”

“You do when you’re reading.”

“Ah, but I don’t have a book to keep me occupied though, do I?”

“I’ll tell you a story, Papa!”

Elena puts a hand on their son’s shoulder as he starts to get up. “No, Christopher, you need to sit still, remember?”

He juts out his bottom lip in a pout. “I want to tell Papa a story.”

“You can tell me a story when we’re done,” Edward reassures. “I promise.”

“Mama!” Andie coos from Edward’s lap, trying to stretch her short arms out and grab hold of her mother. “Mama!”

He tries soothing their daughter with a toy, but her soft babbling soon turns to hiccupy cries. He shifts to catch Marianne’s eye from around the easel.

“I apologize, but can we…?”

“‘Tis fine,” she murmurs, most of her concentration still on the canvas before her.

Elena gathers Andie into her arms and bounces her on her lap, knowing she despises sitting still as much as her father does.

“This would be much easier if it were one of your photographs,” he murmurs with a smirk. She thinks of the secret Polaroid she has stashed away, the one that she uses to take photos of their crew and their little family.

“The camera won’t be invented for another sixty years, sorry. Besides, you’re the one who insisted on getting a portrait done.”

“It’ll be nice to have.”

“You only wanted one because Robert and Julien had one made.”

“Please try to keep steady,” Marianne warns again.

They settle back into their chairs, having not realized they drifted closer during their teasing. Other than Andie demanding to swap laps a few more times, the rest of the afternoon is smooth sailing. Elena feels like she can make that comparison, given that they’ve sailed half the world over now.

“Alright, you may stand.”

She releases the children, much to their relief, and they race through the door and out into the courtyard. Edward helps her up from her chair and they cross the room to see the painting. The background is still blank, save for a halo of deep blue around the family, but the rest is in full color.

“It’s wonderful,” Elena murmurs, drawing her hand through the air to motion to each fine detail. “The ruffles in Andie’s dress, the pattern of my coat -- oh, and especially your eyes. A spectacular job, Miss de la Vega.”

“Aye, a fantastic job,” Edward agrees, then draws up short. “You know what I’ve just realized, though, lass?”

“What?”

“We’ll have to have another one made once this one comes along,” he says, reaching out to palm the obvious swell of their child.

Pursing her lips, Elena tilts her head and studies the painting.

“I don’t know. She is already in this one, technically.”

Edward snorts out a laugh, knocking his shoulder into hers and prompting a chuckle from her. “Same time next year, then, Miss de la Vega?”

“Of course. I’ll have this sent to you once it’s finished.” Marianne glances up from organizing her paints to smile up at them. “I think it’ll look rather grand above your hearth.”

With a last farewell, Elena takes Edward’s hand and wanders out into the courtyard with him. The afternoon sun bakes along the stonework, but in the shadowed recesses, the summer day is tolerable. Palm fronds tickle their shoulders as they stroll through the breezeway.

“How are we going to tell her our ship doesn’t have a fireplace?”

“I think she already knows,” Elena assures. “The swords at our sides aren’t exactly subtle.”

A grin flashes across his face.

“Well, we do have a reputation to uphold.”

The high-pitched sound of laughter leads them to the center courtyard, where Ginny and Lottie are chasing Christopher around a bubbling fountain. Andie cheers on from her seat at the fountain’s edge, the fine ruffles of her dress already soaked, tired from her earlier race. Rushing forward, Edward snatches Christopher up and throws him over his shoulder.

“Have you prepared the rigging, sailor?”

“Nay!” he squeals with laughter, wriggling as his father tickles him.

“‘Nay’?” Edward swings him with ease to his other shoulder. “Captain McTavish, I believe we’ve a lazy pirate on our hands. What are we to do with him?”

Elena hums, feigning a look of consideration as she boosts Andie down from the fountain ledge. Ginny scoops her up onto her hip, to which Elena shoots her a look of gratitude.

“I don’t know. Maybe a night in the brig?”

“Mama, no!” Christopher protests in between giggles.

“No!” Andie interrupts. “Go home!”

“An excellent idea.” Slowing his stride, Edward sidles up next to Elena. She takes the opportunity to ruffle their son’s hair as he chatters away. “What does the captain say, though?”

“Set course for Tiburon,” Elena agrees. “It’s time to go home.”

------

Author’s notes and what-have-yous:

The painter’s surname is a reference to Evelyn de la Vega, a patient in OPH. Also, thus ends this series! I’ve got a google doc with a few ficlets / fragments of scenes that fit within this series that I may get around to posting at some point. Other than that, here’s the end.

#distant shores #distant shores fic #edward x mc #edward mortemer #f: the way home #Kaila writes things #ahh epilogue time

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anninhiliation · 5 years

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Circles

60 Follower Writing Challenge @you-kinda-smell-like-christmas

Congratulations on the 60 followers!😍🥰😈 I bet you have so many more by now (Since this started like a month ago sdhfjksfhskj)😈👀🥵

Masterlist Going Under

Wordcount: 2.6k+

We couldn't turn around

'Til we were upside down

I'll be the bad guy now

“Why am I mad?” I huffed as I angrily tossed my purse on the kitchen counter “Oh I don’t know, maybe because I caught my boyfriend staring at another girl’s chest practically drooling then had the audacity to walk over to her to flirt as if I was nothing as if we were nothing! I swear to god every time you leave for tour you probably bring some whore into bed with you!” I fumed as I walked away from him

I noticed his body language stiffen, as my last words burned his ears. Chris tried to remain calm, as he placed his keys on the small metal hook. He took a deep breath before turning to face me.

“Nena are you jealous?” Chris questioned in an accusing tone as he followed close behind me into the family room "that girl was a fan and I was just saying hi” he explained trying to lessen the tension as I continued to walk away, towards the foyer.

“Yea just saying hi with all those arm touches, looking her up and down, kissing her cheek- I swear to god Chris if I wasn’t there you would have probably let her come to bed with you!” I shouted as I took off my heels placing them in the small closet and rubbed my feet.

“Mi Amor I'm sorry, I promise it was all harmless” Chris sighed as he placed his hands on my shoulders, going in to massage them "Vos sabes que yo te amo y nunca quiero hacer algo para lastimarte"

I flinched away, moving his hands away from me and walked up the stairs.

"Stop lying to me, and to you because we both know none of that is true” I mumbled from halfway up the stairs

But no, I ain't too proud

I couldn't be there

Even when I try

You don't believe it

I had locked myself in our shared bedroom and proceeded with my night routine. Before getting into bed I heard a soft knock on the door.

“Chris” I whined “I’m done with this for the night”

“Nena, can we please talk about this?” He pleaded as I rolled to my side facing away from the door

“Chris I’m done for the night” I sighed

“Can you at least open the door...por favor nena” Chris implored

“Can’t you just sleep on the couch tonight I don’t want to deal with this anymore” I groaned

I heard Chris mumble something from outside the door before turning away and going back downstairs.

We do this every time

Seasons change and our love went cold

Feed the flame 'cause we can't let go

Run away, but we're running in circles

Run away, run away

I tossed and turned all night unable to fall asleep with the fight with Chris still beating through my thoughts. I huffed as I tore the covers off of me, slipping on one of Chris’s sweatshirts and opened the door. Guilt pooled my body as I saw a now cold tea mug on the ground. I sighed, picking it up and making my way downstairs. Chris laid sound asleep on the white couch in the living room. I placed the cup on the coffee table and snuggled in next to him. His arm instinctively wrapped around my lower waist and held me close. I melted under his touch, as I heard him let out a content sigh.

“Chris?” I almost inaudibly whispered

“¿Si?” He mumbled

I wiggled around under his arm, turning to face him. His sleepy big brown eyes met mine as he waited for me to continue. My hand intertwined with his high lighted locks as I gently played with his hair.

“I’m sorry mi amor” I sighed “I overreacted”

One thing lead to another, and our lips came crashing onto each other. My leg wrapped around his waist as Chris moved making me fall onto my back as he hovered his body over mine. He kissed my neck hitting my sweet spot making a soft whimper escape my lips. Chris tugged my sweatshirt off, as I yanked off his shirt. He kissed my collar bone and down my body. Heat flooded down to my core as I tugged on his locks begging for more.

“Papi...I need you” I moaned as fingers grabbed the hem of my panties

“Fuck Nena” He groaned as he pulled the fabric down exposing my soaked entrance slipping a finger in drowning it in my arousal.

He nipped my inner thighs before kitten licking my wet folds sending me on a cloud of pleasure.

“Chris” I whimpered as I tugged on his soft locks

He tugged on my bundle of nerves before drawing stars on it. My headshot back as my toes curled as he did all the right things to my core. Slipping two fingers in and curling them at the right angle.

“Papi” I whimpered

Chris changed the pattern to figure eights as he pumped harder. Two fingers stretched me out nicely enough to please me, but not enough to fulfill me tonight.

“Papi I need more...I need you inside me” I begged as I grew desperate

He let out a groan as he pulled his mouth away from me. Chris lowered his boxers and wasted no time inserting himself inside me. I let out a fulfilled moan and scratched down his back as his first thrust threw me into the stars. We kissed desperately letting out all of our unspoken emotions. His tip pounded into my inner sweet spot as he moved his lips to my lower neck. A knot formed in my lower stomach as he nipped my warm skin.

“Papi...I’m close” I whimpered as my hands found their way back into his hair

“Cum for me nena” He grunted as his thrusts lost their tempo

I let the knot to snap, as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. My thighs shook and toes curled as Chris rode me out. His name escaped my lips as I hit my highest point. I felt a warm liquid shoot inside me as Chris let go of his own orgasm. He slowly pulled out of me and laid back down next to me. His arm grabbed my lower ribcage and pulled me closer. My head snuggled on to his other bicep as he kissed the top of my head.

“Te amo nena” He whispered before the two of us drifted off to sleep

I dare you to do something

I'm waiting on you again

So I don't take the blame

We went three consecutive days after that without fighting, arguing, or bickering at each other. Tonight, we decided to celebrate how well their promos were going and hit the club. As soon as the door opened, the Latin music enveloped everyone's ears. Chris ordered us a drink, which turned into two, then three. I grinded on him, as the music possessed my body and the alcohol pumped through my veins. I barely noticed he left my side when a warm pair of hands wrapped around my waist making my hips sway onto his.

“I've been watching you all night and damn ma you got some moves” an unfamiliar voice growled in my ear

“Chris your voice sounds funny” I giggled

But before I could piece together that the man standing behind me wasn't Chris, my arm was yanked and I was pulled off the dance floor.

“Nena I leave you alone for one second and you already find yourself someone new? Yet, I am the one who is always accused of bringing someone back to the hotel with me, and that I am the cheater!” Chris huffed as we walked outside of the club “I swear to god, nena I have never even kissed a fan on the cheek and I take your hurtful words and never say anything! But I am tired of this double standard you set up.” By the end of his rant, Chris was left panting and red.

His words felt like someone had shoved a knife through me and twisted it. His facial expression, the darkness in his eyes petrified me to the point where I ran off. I hid in the crowds of people hearing him scream my name.

Run away, but we're running in circles

Run away, run away, run away

I stopped running when I reached my favorite diner. The warm familiar smell and faces soothed my nerves. As a hostess who always took the night shifts walked me to my usual table.

“I’m surprised you and your boyfriend didn’t come in here together tonight. He’s been waiting for you ya’know” She cheered with a friendly smile as she walked me to my booth

My breathing hitched as I saw Chris look up at me from the booth. He was less tense than before, as he watched me slide into the opposite end of the booth.

“What are you doing?” I questioned

“Nena, I've been thinking for a while and we need to talk” He sighed as his hand rubbed his face and dragged it down, a thing he only did was he was nervous and stressed.

Let go

I got a feeling that it's time to let go

I say so

I knew that this was doomed from the get-go

I bit my bottom lip and bounced my leg quietly as I felt bad news headed my way.

“What is it?” I finally questioned as I toyed with the menu trying to distract myself from what was yet to come

“Lo Siento cariño” He sighed dodging my eye contact “but we need to break up.” he finally choked out as he looked out the window

“What? Why?” I gasped, thinking back to all the times we broke up in the past.

But this time he sounded and acted differently, sending a pit to my stomach.

“Nena...all we do is fight.” He explained making me quirk an eyebrow “We are always arguing, pissing the other one-off, estoy cansado nena.”

“We always make up at the end of every fight” I quietly protested

You thought that it was special, special

But it was just the sex though, the sex though

And I still hear the echoes (the echoes)

“Nena we never made up we just fuck” Chris pointed out locking eyes with me

I broke eye contact looking down at my hands, fidgeting one of my rings. He was right after every argument one of us would come crawling back to the other apologizing and the apology would always end in us cumming. The sex was always intense, as the two of us would let out all of our pent up anger, and other bottled emotions.

“You’re acting different this time” I blurted out “Is this...the last time?”

“I’m afraid so nena...we are no good for each other and it has to end” He stated grimly

I got a feeling that it's time to let it go

Let it go

Seasons change and our love went cold

Feed the flame 'cause we can't let go

Run away, but we're running in circles

Run away, run away

After that night, I took all of my things and moved out staying in with a friend until I found my new apartment in the middle of the city. We never texted or called after our agreement to stay away from each other for our own health. He even blocked me on all social media platforms canceling out any temptations we might have had. Three months had gone by since I last saw Chris and even started moving on. My life was going great until I heard a knock on my door. I opened the door and my heart sunk to the ground. Chris awkwardly stood in my doorway, taking in the new environment and subtle changes I did to my appearance.

“Hey nena” he finally spoke as I moved away letting him in.

I dare you to do something

I'm waiting on you again

So I don't take the blame

“What are you doing here Chris?” I puzzled as I closed the door crossing my hands over my chest

“I missed you nena” He started once again, we picked up where we left off. He slammed me against the wall, in a pang of desperate hunger.

“Fuck nena” He groaned as he lifted my hair and nipped my neck remembering where my sweet spot was.

I melted under his touch, feeling a pool forming between my legs. We quickly ripped off each other’s clothes throwing them aimlessly around the apartment slowly making it to the bedroom. Chris pushed me to the bed as he slammed himself inside me. It had been months since I’ve had him and his full size inside me, making me wince a little. Chris noticed as he kept himself slow letting me adjust before going at our old pace. The sex was rough and quick, as we desperately chased our relief wanting to see the familiar galaxy the two of us sent each other to.

Maybe you don't understand what I'm going through

It's only me, what you got to lose?

Make up your mind, tell me, what are you gonna do?

It's only me, let it go

I laid on his chest, tracing his tattoo as I listened to his heartbeat calm down.

“Chris...can I ask you something?” I started trying to muster up some courage to find the truth

“Whats up nena?” He responded as his hand softly rubbed my lower back

“Did you come back for sex or for me?” I blurted out as I looked him in the eye “I hate to ask like that because its been three months and I need to know” I cut myself off not wanting to mention I had gone on a few dates with someone and it seemed like he would want to take things to the next level and officially start dating.

“Nena I came back for you...it was hard to find you” Chris whispered as he kissed the top of my head “I missed you so much nena”

Seasons change and our love went cold

Feed the flame 'cause we can't let go

Run away, but we're running in circles

Run away, run away

I woke up to the sun gently piercing through the shades and a missing body that was supposed to be next to me.

“Chris?” I called out

No response, making me jump out of the bed taking the bed sheet with me.

“Chris?” I called out again, as I searched around the apartment.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I noticed he was nowhere to be found and not a single text or scribbled note was left. Feeling like a complete idiot I decided to reach out to him.

What the hell I thought when my text didn’t go through

I hit his number and decided to call instead but was sent straight to voice mail. Confused, I checked his Instagram and he still had me blocked. Tears flooded my eyes when I pieced everything together. He did not come back to build a new relationship. He came back because he caught the scent of me starting something new with someone new. I had been moving on from him and he couldn’t handle that, so he came back into my life just to leave again.

I dare you to do something

I'm waiting on you again

So I don't take the blame

Run away, but we're running in circles

Run away, run away, run away

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luckyfirerabbit · 5 years

Text

Jaune Doe: Pt 2

Pyrrha is always up early. Almost every morning she's up and about before the sun with the intent of going for a jog around the block. She was part of the boxing club in high school and college, so this sort of exercise was all but second nature by now. She still goes to the local gym three to four times a week, keeping just shy of competition sharp, mostly for the relief it gives from the daily grind of her job.

She gets back home with enough to time to shower and change, and to get started on breakfast before Diana wakes up. She knows when that happens because the cat comes scrambling into the kitchen as if it's a race, one the cat always wins. It jumps onto the island, all black with a white face, and glares at Pyrrha until she reminds it that its bowl is on the floor.

"Morning, mommy." comes the little girls yawn.

"Morning, baby." Pyrrha smiles and looks down, seeing the incredible mess of jet black curls. "Ready to eat?"

"Mm-hmm."

"You want oatmeal, or do you want what mommy's having?"

"Oatmeal, please."

Pyrrha nods; so polite for five years old. "You want to watch cartoons while we eat?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Go ahead and get settled in, I'll bring it to you when it's ready."

The two of them will eat quietly, Diana engrossed in the television and Pyrrha in the copy of the case file she had brought home. She takes short breaks from the papers, because there's a lot, and because she wants to make sure Diana knows she's paying attention.

"You want to go to the park later?" She asks during a commercial.

"Okay." Diana replies, sounding a little more awake. She looks up at her mother, her eyes just like Pyrrha's. "Are you going to bring work with you?"

"No, baby, I promise."

"Okay." the little girl nods. "That's why daddy says I can't come and see you, because you work so much."

Pyrrha's expression abruptly sours, then she shrugs. "That's not true, honey."

"Then why can't I come visit that much anymore?"

"I don't know." she reaches out and strokes her daughter's cheek with the back of her hand. "I've asked your dad several times, but he still hasn't given me a straight answer. I think you being with me upsets him for some reason."

"Is it because you hit him?"

Her brow furrows. "It might be, but he won't say so, so there isn't much I can do to help him with that."

"But you only hit him because he hit you first." she says matter of factly.

"That's right." she wanted to smile, feeling a spark of triumph, but that wouldn't be right. "Because we're allowed to fight back, even if it's someone we loved."

Diana goes quiet after that, getting reabsorbed into her cartoons, and Pyrrha does the same.

There are some photos in the file, most of which she ignores because she just isn't awake enough to stomach those. Instead she keeps going back to the headshot, the wallet sized picture of a drowsy, bruised twenty something with messy blond hair and dim blue eyes. She doesn't so much see him as she feels his appearance; it makes her feel vulnerable, weary...in some empathic way she feels lost. Clearly he had been through hell, and not just that night, but for some time.

Jaune Doe.

The variation of the monicker sits awkwardly in her mind for a moment, until she reads further on that it's the man's first name; it's the only name he remembers.

Possible trauma related amnesia.

Understandable, she decides as she starts skimming the list of injuries the primary exam had found. Broken ribs, concussion, multiple lacerations and abrasions. She reads intentional scarification at the bottom of the page, turning it without a thought that a photograph might follow, and immediately jerking away and turning back.

"You okay, mommy?"

"I'm fine, baby."

Poor thing.

The blood work wasn't in the file, and all she can do is shake her head. They typically don't take more than a day, so this man must have had a pharmacy inventory in his veins for it to take this long.

There are other pictures, some that she can tolerate that she studies rather closely. They fit in with the official police report, the suspicion that Jaune Doe was an addict; multiple injection scars had been found and cataloged, most of them obvious, which made her suspect the same thing as the police. But there were more in less obvious places, places even the usual junkie didn't use and were realistically impossible to reach by yourself. For her, a seasoned lawyer, that was enough to establish reasonable doubt in the initial theory.

What happened to you? She has a theory or two, but she doesn't like either of them.

When she's had all she can take she sets the file aside, sliding them into her open briefcase on the floor at her feet, knowing there will be more to it come Monday and leaving it until then.

(--)

Pyrrha will drop Diana off at school and then head straight to the hospital from there. She doesn't mind getting in early, especially if it helps sate her gnawing curiosity of what will be waiting on her desk when she gets there. This case has been haunting the edges of her mind all weekend.

Sure enough the manilla folder is there in the middle of everything, waiting for her, and she'll scoop it up after dropping her briefcase in her chair. She leaves the office for the lounge, having been unable to wait long enough to grab her morning tea. Somehow she navigates the barely busy halls, expertly sidestepping people and equipment with her nose deep in the newest reports -the full bloodwork and police testimony, including statements from the staff during Jaune Doe's intake. It's almost the perfect stroll until she bumps into a wall of body in the lounge doorway.

Pyrrha lifts her eyes, blinking through a reflex apology, looking directly into the buttons of a pressed white shirt and security badge. Lifting her chin lets her see the tusks and freckles and curly red hair of Sahv Starborough.

"Good morning, Miss Nikos." the officer grins, seemingly unfazed by the obstacle the much smaller woman was presenting.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes again, "good morning. I didn't mean to, I was just,"

"It's okay." Sahv insists. "Got the new patient's file?"

"Yeah, thought I'd get a jump start on it." she smirks and steps aside, expecting her to go by, only to be presented with a mirrored gesture from her. Pyrrha advances with the gentle insistence of Sahv's big hand. "Is he doing any better?"

"Maybe, haven't started my rounds yet." The faunus half sits on the nearest table, arms crossed. "He had a tough weekend, though. Some of the nurses were worried we'd lose him."

"Goodness." There's that painful empathy again.

"You seen his blood sheet yet?"

"Not yet, those are hard for me to read, anyway." Pyrrha shakes her head with a breathy chuckle, fumbling briefly with the tea bag and dropping it twice.

"Oh, well, I was hoping you could tell me something. Still, whatever he had in him was making him seize Saturday morning, they stopped eventually -thank gods- but he's had round the clock observation since."

"Any idea what could do that?"

Sahv shrugs. "Saw it a few times when I was a paramedic...rohypnol overdose usually." Pyrrha pauses, half turning with a quirk to her brow. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"Ruffies is the street name."

"Oh. So...but some of those injuries...that's not an overnight thing. There's evidence of long term abuse, at least as far as I can tell."

"I don't know, really." her broad shoulders jump in resignation. "I do know they think he's a druggie but..."

"You too?"

"Yeah. I mean...I've seen bad trips before -real bad- but I've never seen one like that. He was so scared, Miss Nikos. And it wasn't over things that weren't there, like the usual, he was afraid of us. He was convinced we were going to hurt him."

Pyrrha's heart clutches hard behind her ribs, her imagination going where she knows it shouldn't.

"It's all in my portion of the intake report, so I'm not going to trouble you with the specifics." Sahv shrugs sadly, likely feeling something similar.

"I'll probably ask you anyway. Cases like these...I need it to feel personal, makes me work harder."

"Whatever helps, I guess, you know what you're doing, Miss Nikos."

There's a moment of quiet between them, the only other sound is the chime of the water heater.

"He's at the top of my rounds, you want to come with me? You're his voice right now, so I figured," her nod mimics Pyrrha's, "but I have to fetch Miss Velvet first."

Pyrrha offers her leave to do what she needs to, assuring Sahv that she would be right behind her at the risk of almost pouring hot water over her hand. She scurries out of the lounge as soon as she's able, the file tucked under her arm.

The lights in Jaune Doe's room are dimmed, but still bright enough to see by. The curtains are draw across the window to keep out the sunlight, anything to help facilitate and rest he could get. And by the looks of it, he is indeed sleeping. Finally.

Pyrrha lingers in the doorway at first, content to let Velvet and Sahv do their jobs without her possibly interfering presence. After a few seconds she doesn't even see them, really, her attention is fully fixed on the man in the bed. He's coiled up, knees near his chest and arms crossed like he's cold, likely is seeing as the blankets have been kicked down to the foot of the bed. Once the seizures began the restraints had been removed for his safety, and since there didn't seem cause enough to replace them, he had been free to toss and turn through sometimes feverish unconsciousness.

Velvet immediately pulled the blankets back up, softly talking to him as if he was listening. She's sympathetic to the possibility that he feels like he's burning up -Pyrrha can see a faint shimmer of sweat on his skin from here- but assures him that he needs to keep his temperature stable if he wants to get better. Carefully, so carefully, she moves him to lie on his back to get the pressure off his ribs. When he's mostly tucked in she goes about checking the numbers on all the machines he's hooked up to.

Sahv is here for safety's sake, just in case things go horribly wrong, but she appears to have another purpose. She quietly moves to the small table beside the bed, to the little black box sitting on it as she pulls a USB cable out of her pocket.

Pyrrha cocks her head, suddenly noticing something. "Is...there's music playing?"

"Yeah." Sahv replies just above a whisper. "I was watching him the other night, once his seizures stopped and everything, and I had my scroll playing. It seemed like it let him rest a little easier, so I leave it in here for him. I just need to plug it up so it can charge a while."

Pyrrha moves inside now, feeling like she has permission to, and approaches carefully, mindful of her footsteps. She'll pause briefly when she hears the music, mostly soft but swift guitars, then closes the gap between her and Sahv as the faunus turns around.

"Is that Caravaan?"

"It's my favorite kind of music." Sahv nods, smiling. "You know I got to see Gypsy, live, just before she retired?"

Pyrrha's face lit up a little. "No, I'm so jealous."

"As long as it lets him sleep, it could be show tunes for all I care." Velvet adds softly. "But it's awful nice of you to leave it for him, Sahv."

Now Pyrrha looks down into the bed, finding Jaune Doe's face, and feels a distinct clench in her chest. He really does look young, even with all the roughness and bruising and the patches of stubble. He seemed much too young, too soft, to look so unwell.

He's hearing voices again, sounds swimming through the lingering, heavy heat in his brain. The music was better, softer, sensible, it was something he vaguely knew. But now it's broken up with something more like static. The irritation it makes him feel pulls his consciousness a little higher, lets him feel his fingers again, and a part of him tries to wake up. He comprehends flickers of light let in through his fluttering eyelids.

They part for just a moment, long enough for most of the blurred shapes in his view to drift into focus for a second or two. There's a hand on the stainless steel rail of the bed, a woman's hand, he thinks. Without a thought his eyes flit upward, unsteady and quickly blinking again. He meets and holds the attention of brilliant green eyes.

"Hello, Jaune,"

At least that's what he thinks was said, because he didn't have the time to process it before his consciousness dipped again.

"Oh?" Sahv's attention piqued. "Is he awake?"

"I...I don't think so, not really." Pyrrha tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear, hoping there's no visible evidence of the heat she feels in her face. "His eyes were open for a second, that's all. It's a reflex, sorry."

"Well," the security guard inches her shoulders, "still, it's good to talk to them, isn't it, Velv?"

"So I've heard. Can't hurt him, I'm sure." the nurse replies, jotting down the last of her notes. "I do it all the time and haven't done any harm, as far as I know."

Pyrrha just nods, quiet for a moment, then it seems her train of thought clicks from one thing to another. "I've got to get back to the office. Thanks for letting me visit, ladies."

"Sure," Velvet smiles. "See you at lunch?"

"Probably." and the three laugh quietly and separate towards their respective obligations, leaving Jaune Doe to sleep in peace.

(--)

Blake Belladonna tucks the last of her paperwork into the drawer in her desk, locking it with the little brass key on the ring before closing her laptop. Rising from her desk she pushes the chair in, slips the strap of her messenger back over her shoulder, and strolls for her office door. Without a second thought she pulls on the nob, the door swinging open with the usual, reflexive force. Reflexive as the feline shriek she makes when she nearly walks into the person waiting much too close to the doorway on the other side.

"I'm sorry," Pyrrha gasps, shrinking at the noise Blake makes and the way her ears flatten. "I didn't mean to, I was going to knock, I swear."

"It's all right." Blake takes a few seconds to compose herself, the lift her ears back up. "What can I do for you, Pyrrha?"

"I'll be quick, I promise." Pyrrha assures her. "What can you tell me about scarification?"

For several seconds Blake just stares at her, blinking once in an exaggerated way. "You know...I had a myriad of questions in mind that you could have asked...and that was not one of them."

"I know it seems out of nowhere,"

"Nowhere isn't quite strong enough a word, but,"

"It has to do with the new Doe case."

"I see." Blake nods once. "Come on in, I have a few minutes."

Pyrrha thanks her a thousand times, or at least she tries to reach that number as she slips in behind her coworker and into the shady room.

Blake half sits against the edge of her desk, only partly settled because she hopes not to be here that long. "I haven't seen any paperwork on it yet, but I've heard a few things. So what does he have to do with your question?"

The lawyer has the file under her arm, the photograph she needed sticking out of the edge in preparation. "He's got some, clearly intentional, and I was wondering if you could tell me anything about it. Does anyone in Argus do it, what sort of significance does it have, that kind of thing."

Blake takes the picture and studies it, her ears twitching asymmetrically. "Just because I have tattoos doesn't mean I know anything about this."

"It's still body modification, right? Those things tend to run together, so I thought you might at least know someone who knows someone, you know?"

Blake blinks at her again, amused by the way her words ran together. "...Good point. Can I keep this? I can show it to the guys at the parlor, maybe they can track down the artist."

Pyrrha exhales in a relieved way, as if maybe she had expected some sort of rejection. "Thank you so much, I really appreciate it."

One sable ear cocks to the side. "Isn't this usually something the police would be doing?"

"I mean...yeah, but...I love Nora and Ren to death, but most people don't trust cops like they used to, you know? So I thought this would get better results."

"Fair enough." Blake nods.

"Plus, this poor man threw himself out of window to get away from...something, or someone, and if they're looking for him, the first thing they're going to be on the lookout for is cops canvasing the area."

"Another valid point, you've really got it all figured out, don't you, Nikos?" Blake smirks. "Diving in head first with this one."

Pyrrha returns the expression with one of her own, coupled with a sheepish chuckle. "Is that so bad?"

"Not at all, I just think you should observe a little caution. You might not like what you find."

"Good thing I don't do this for my sake, then, huh?" Pyrrha's smile widens, becomes calm and confident. "Thanks for the help, though. And tell Yang I said, hello, won't you?"

"Of course. See you tomorrow."

#Jaune Doe #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #blake belladonna #rwby au

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umbrahighpriestofgiratina · 7 years

Text

Liberating Glamor

This fic was an Undertale crossover and an April Fools joke and I have no regrets.

Reshiram, having taken the form of a human woman, looked around the house, inspecting it curiously. It was pretty simple, small, plain, for something scrounged up for cheap and pretty out-of the-way, but something still felt… new about it.

She looked to her companion, a young-green-haired man, who seemed to be more idly staring off into space. She'd known N long enough at this point that he was likely contemplating the room more intently than she was, however.

"...It's different, isn't it?" she said after a while.

N blinked, as if snapped out of a trance, then turned to her. "This place? It is. yeah."

He smiled. "In a good way though, I think. It's comfortable, secure, structured…"

Reshiram smiled too. "A good bit more simple than a big ol' castle, at least."

N chuckled heartily. "Definitely. We can both easily say that!"

His smile grew noticeably smaller. "And… a lot less of a mess in more ways than one than…"

He trailed off and stared off into space a little while.

Reshiram looked at N, then, after inspecting her human hand to get in the right position, placed it gently on N's shoulder.

"N… I'm sorry. You're safe now. We're all safe now."

N flinches out of his thoughts at the touch, but looks at her and smiles more widely and genuinely again.

"Thank you."

Reshiram smiles back, then furrows her brow and scans the room. "Speaking of which, where are those two ex-Plasma Grunts that helped us get this place anyway?"

The two then hear shouting from another room.

"Boom, headshot!"

"Tom, that was ME, dammit!"

Reshiram blinks as she looks quizzically at N. He chuckles again.

"They said they were playing a game called Halo. Said it was fun."

"A game?"

"Yeah!"

He furrows his brow himself. "Though… Something called a video game… Apparently they play them using a TV or a special device and sometimes that "internet" thing we heard about while wandering…"

He notices something tucked over in a corner on a table and perks up. "Oh! That's one of those devices. It's apparently Roger's, though."

Reshiram looked over and indeed noticed a medium-size, clamshell-shaped device with a glowing front displaying strange colors and patterns. Curious, she walked up to it and inspected the glowing bit, noticing the colors and patterns formed pictures and words in a strange arrangement. Looking to the top of the device, she saw words of some language she even as a Legendary couldn't comprehend.

"Hech… tepee… pee… deinostros… tumbler… com?"

She looked down at the buttons and noticed they have letters and words on them themselves. She pressed one with an R on it. Nothing happened. She tried the one that said "enter" next. Nothing again. She went for "shift" with similar results and scowled.

"N? Can you help me work this thing?"

"Um, isn't that Roger's?"

"I just want to see how it works!"

N approached the device as well, inspected it himself, then noticed a little white arrow on the screen. "Maybe that does something…"

He notices buttons with similar arrows, but while they have more success in moving the words and images up and down the arrow on the screen is unaffected. "Strange…"

He then turned his head a bit and noticed a strange oval object next to the clamshell. Idly curious, he picked it up, only to notice out of the corner of his eye the arrow on the screen moved.

N smiled. "Ah!"

He waved the oval around. Nothing. He frowned and set it back down again, only for the arrow to move again and his smile to return as he moved it back and forth. "I think I've got something..."

He noticed part of the words on the screen change as he hovered the arrow over them. As he eyed them quizzically, he noticed idly feeling the oval its upper-left corner seemed to bend inwards. He pressed it downwards, the oval giving a distinct click and both his and Reshiram's eyes widened as the page's words and pictures changed dramatically.

"Okay, I have definitely never expected humans to come up with anything quite like this."

She then looked at the new words and pictures and narrowed her eyes a bit."Move the words and stuff a bit with those buttons again please, N?"

N nodded and did so. Reshiram looked in and inspected the words and pictures carefully.

"OK... Some of the words kinda look like they were written by Roger... But most of the rest don't... And there's all these weird pictures, I have no clue where the hell they came from..."

N looked at the pictures himself only to smile upon seeing one in particular. "There's a cute little Zorua!"

He noticed a static arrow on the Zorua picture he used his moving arrow and the pliable part of the oval to click, and his smile grew wider. "The picture moves when you click on it! The Zorua's rolling around in some warm blankets! It's adorable!"

N then noticed the right upper corner of the oval was pliable too. "Wait, what happens when you click this one?"

He did, and a grey box with a list pops up. Looking it up and down, one particular item stood out.

"Inspect... eechteeemell?"

He clicked on that with the left one again, and a large bar appeared with yet more text. Upon looking at the text proper, however, N's eyes lit up and his jaw dropped.

"These... they're... they're..."

Reshiram blinked. "Formulas?"

"Yes!" Said N. "Formulas! Strange new formulas! Oh, but I'm already starting to see patterns..."

He hovered the arrow over the formulas and saw the pictures and words light up in tandem, and he grew even giddier. "This... This whole display is made of formulas! It's amazing! It's beautiful! I want to see more of how it wor-"

It was then Tom and Roger entered the room, bickering as usual.

"Dammit Tom," said Roger, "You gotta stop making us lose every time!"

"But I blew up that base and got all those kills!" Said Tom.

"That was our base, you nitwi-"

They stop and stare at seeing N and Reshiram hovering over the device. They quickly noticed and stared back. There was a long, awkward silence before Roger finally broke it.

"Okay, what the hell are you two doing with my laptop?"

Reshiram scowled. "Roger, I recommend you don't take such a tone with a Legendar-"

"It's called a laptop?" Said N. "It's amazing! You can interact with the words and pictures, and they run on this whole language of formulas!"

Roger raises an eyebrow, then goes over to the laptop himself, sees what's going on, and sighs. "Oh, you found my Tumblr. And... somehow figured out how to inspect the source code."

"Is that what this formula language is called?" said N. "It's fascinating!"

He inspects the code again and frowns slightly.

"Though... Looking at it again, some of these formulas seem off, wrong somehow..."

Roger frowns himself. "That's because Tumblr's coded by people as bad at programming as Tom is at first-person shooters."

"Is there any way I can fix it?"

"Well, you're going to have to get your own lapto-"

"Roger," said Reshiram, giving her own frown.

Roger turned to her, puzzled.

"We... Don't have much to do here," said Reshiram, sighing. "He's found something new and fun he's already really enjoying. Why can't he give it a try?"

N looked at Reshiram, concerned. "Reshiram, you don't have to get him to-"

"...No, she's right," said Roger. "If we're gonna help give you guys a place to live we ought to help keep you entertained. I'll get you an account set up on my laptop."

N blinks, then smiles. "Thank you, Roger."

Reshiram smiles herself. "Likewise."

"It's fine," said Roger. "I just gotta make sure to teach you how to not fuck the thing up, N."

He leers at Tom.

"I still haven't forgotten about you overrunning it with viruses."

Tom leers back and raises his index finger.

"Hey! In my defense, the banner ad with the cute Cleffa promising me free screensavers looked super-cuddly and harmless!"

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

Several days later, Tom, Roger and Reshiram are sitting together at a table with drinks, Reshiram going on some rant about the old days.

"So then this uprising happened in East Unova and we had to figure out how to-"

Tom blinks and looks around. "Where's N?"

"He was messing with my computer still last I saw..." Said Roger.

It was then N strolled into the room, a smug smile on his face.

"Everyone? I have something important to show you all!"

The others all blink and look amongst each other in confusion.

"...What is it?" Reshiram finally asked.

"Follow me!" Said N, walking back into the other room. Everyone else cautiously followed.

N led them all over to Roger's laptop, then spread out his hands to draw the attention of the others to himself. "So... Bad news first. Tom was right when I was first introduced to computers, Tumblr's use of the language of formulas is... Broken, twisted, corrupted."

"More at 11," replied Roger.

"But!" Said N. "The Internet, all of which uses that language in various dialects, is vast, immeasurably vast, with connections to nearly every device in the world, all with different means of bringing that language to life! And I've extensively studied and analyzed that for one grand purpose!"

Reshiram furrowed her brow. "Every device..."

Her eyes lit up as she came to a realization. "Oh! Did you manage to rip the people behind that one TV show with that blasphemy to me known as Volcaryu in it?"

N frowned slightly. "Sadly no."

Reshiram frowned more thoroughly and grumbled. "Damn it. You know I hate that utter mockery of me so much..."

"Thunderyu's cooler anyway," said Roger.

Reshiram nudged him aggressively. Roger did so back.

"Hey, guys, stop it, N's trying to say something really awesome!" Said Tom.

"Er, thank you Tom," said N.

He smiled again as he gestured to the computer screen this time. "The real good news is I created an all-new social media site on my own!"

Everyone had rather disparate reactions to his announcement.

"...How?" Said Reshiram, bewildered.

"That quickly?" Said Roger, skeptical.

"Ooh, what does it do?" Said Tom, excited.

N simply twiddled his fingers at all of them. "Let me show you."

He moved to the computer screen, and everyone soon followed as N showed them his creation and giddily explaining it.

"I took Tumblr's source code and completely overhauled it using things I learned from the code and features of other sites. It's so much less buggy now, and has so many better features! There's on-blog comments in addition to commenting by reblog, likes are on a by-blog basis, asks and IMs are overhauled completely for better discussion and use of formatting, there's ways to have forum-style conversations with either mutual followers or simply your normal followers on a subpage of your blog, much more thorough and easy customization of themes and what they do and display, and so many other things to make it perfect for both sharing and discussion! It's nearing perfection and moreso as I refine it!"

Roger blinks. "Wow... You went all-out."

He furrows his own brow soon after. "...How the hell did you get the domain names and servers and shit though?"

N grinned. "It's a peer-to-peer client app that replaces the central server with a distributed algorithm secured with homomorphic encryption, with the cluster bootstrapped by leveraging the BitTorrent DHT!"

Roger merely stared in shock. "...Is it wrong I understood every fucking word of that and yet have even more questions as to how the hell you pulled it off?"

Tom, however, gave an equally wide grin. "Wow, N, if Roger's impressed you must have made something really awesome!"

"It looks wonderful!" Said a similarly-excited Reshiram. "What's it called?"

N smirked, scrolling to the top of the website's page, showing a "P" version of the Tumblr logo juxtaposed on a white shield with a black dot in the corner.

"Plasblr.com! It's already gotten so much traffic! It's going to be revolutionary!"

Tom kept looking sparkly-eyed. Reshiram smiled but Roger eyed the whole scenario much more warily.

"This is going to go horribly wrong soon enough," he whispered to Reshiram.

"Don't tempt fate. N can handle himself fine anyway. He's learned a lot," she whispered back.

"Well if it does go horribly wrong it's your fault."

"My fault? You-"

They descend into incomprehensible prattling as N explains Plasblr's features to an enraptured Tom, both unaware of their companions' argument.

---------

Late at night, after several months peaceful and uneventful aside from the continued success of Plasblr, N is frantically working away at its source code, growing increasingly frustrated.

"I can't fix this bug from the newest update still... There has to be a way..."

He rapidly pressed several keys, booted the attempted fixes to the server, and grinned as the fixes seemed to have gone through...

Only for the grin to vanish immediately as an error message popped up on the screen.

"'...You have successfully divided by zer-'"

Space suddenly warped violently around N and the laptop as the latter let out a shocked scream.

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

That morning, Reshiram approached N's new room, regarding it quizzically and raising an eyebrow in concern when she heard no noise from it. After a few more seconds of waiting, she cautiously opened the door.

"...Hey N? Tom and Roger made their Persnickety Snickerdoodles, I thought you'd like so-"

She stops and stares in unabashed horror as a strange, boxlike robot propelled by one wheel on a single leg below its body, sporting two metallic ringed arms, and with a screen on the front of its body that superficially resembled the cube N carried around his waist in its squarelike patterns except lit up in white-and-green and forming a shape vaguely reminiscent of a face rolled up to her.

"OH, HELLO, RESHIRAM! I WAS JUST FINE-TUNING MY NEW BODY. HOW DO YOU LIKE IT?"

"Er, it's, um... Aesthetic?" Said Reshiram. "W-where did you ever get it, N?"

"WELL, I WAS UPDATING THE PLASBLR SERVERS, AND THERE WAS THIS BUG IN THE UPDATE THAT WOULDN'T BE FIXED! NATURALLY, I HAD TO REPAIR IT, AND I DID - BUT THE FIX CREATED A WARP IN SPACETIME THAT MERGED ME BOTH WITH THE LAPTOP AND THE MERNGER SPONGE I CARRY WITH ME TO CREATE THIS NEW ROBOTIC FORM! I CALL IT METATONN! PLEASE REFER TO ME AS SUCH FROM NOW ON, RESHIRAM! I FEEL MY NEW NAME WILL ATTRACT A GOOD DEAL OF TRAFFIC TO PLASBLR!"

"Er, yes... MetatoNN," said Reshiram, looking him up and down worriedly. "Any thoughts of changing back to your human body for anything?"

"WHY WOULD I? THIS NEW BODY HAS GIVEN ME AN IMPORTANT BENEFIT - MY MIND NOW HAS FULL ACCESS TO THE ENTIRE PLASBLR NETWORK! WITH ENOUGH TWEAKING TO MY MENTAL PROGRAMMING, I MAY BE ABLE TO EXTEND MY REACH TO THE ENTIRE INTERNET! THEN I SHALL ACHEIVE MY ULTIMATE DREAM - USING THIS INFINITE KNOWLEDGE TO BRIDGE THE GAP BETWEEN HUMANS AND POKEMON BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY!"

"Er, that's lovely, MetatoNN, I'll go tell Tom and Roger the good news!"

She exited the room and immediately slammed the door shut behind her, pressing her body as hard as she could against it. After several seconds of staring out into space in panic, she pulled out a brown paper bag.

"Okay, Roger says this works wonders..."

She breathed in and out heavily into it several times before holding it out in front of her and scowling.

"It's not working!"

She gave a distinctly draconic snarl as she conjured flames between her hands that incinerated the bag in seconds, only for the snarl to turn into a whimper as she heard a voice immediately after.

"Um... Reshiram, why are you mad?"

She looked up to see the source of the voice was a very worried-looking Tom, accompanied by an equally irritated Roger.

"What's going on here?" Said the latter.

"...N's not hungry," replied Reshiram.

Roger sighed. "Well if he isn't then can he let off the Plasblr maintenance for long enough to let me play some fucking Starcraft?"

"OH, TELL ROGER I CAN GIVE HIM ALL THE STARCRAFT HELP HE NEEDS NOW!" Said MetatoNN from behind the door.

"Er, just a second!" Said Reshiram.

"Hey N! You sound kinda funny!" Said Tom.

"MY NAME IS NO LONGER N! IT IS-"

"Shh! Don't spoil the, er, surprise!"

"...Okay, what the hell is going on here?" Said Roger.

Reshiram stares at him and Tom, then gulps.

"OK, fine, I admit it, N might have kinda sorta changed himself into..."

MetattoNN suddenly bursts through the wall next to them, now holding and speaking into a microphone.

"ONE KILLER ROBOT! HOW DID YOU LIKE THAT ENTRANCE, RESHIRAM? YOU KEPT FUMBLING, SO I FELT IT BEST I DO IT MYSELF!"

Everyone else just stared in utter bewilderment.

"What the everloving fuck," said Roger.

"WOAH! I'M GOING TO HAVE TO APPROVE THE PLASBLR APP GETTING AN M RATING WITH LANGUAGE LIKE YOURS FEEDING INTO IT! CAN'T HAVE THE RATINGS BOARD DOWN MY BACK!"

"...So, if you're a robot, do you have any cool robot powers?" Asked Tom with a now more enthusiastic tone.

"OH, I'M TESTING PLENTY WITH MY INCREASING MENTAL ACCESS TO THE ENTIRETY OF THE INTERNET! I'VE GOT-"

"N!" Said Reshiram. "Enough!"

"I SAID MY NAME IS METATONN NOW! I THOUGHT YOU RESPECTED MY DREAMS, RESHIRAM!"

"I do!" Said Reshiram, gritting her teeth. But not when you handle them like this! You're going too far making yourself a robot and trying to absorbthe whole internet! This isn't the person I believe in!"

"WELL THEN, IF YOU'RE GOING TO BE SO SKEPTICAL, I'LL PROVE THIS WILL WORK! IN FACT, I'LL FIND THE NEAREST CITY - PROVE IT IN FRONT OF AN AUDIENCE! IT'LL BE SPECTACULAR!"

Before anyone else could stop him he'd motored his single wheel away through another wall into the outdoors, speeding off towards civilization.

Everyone just stared off hopelessly after for a while before Roger finally spoke to Reshiram.

"...Your fault."

Reshiram twitched violently as a large gout of flame erupted next to Roger, causing him to yelp and jump into Tom's arms. Tom grinned smugly.

"Sick burn there."

"...Shut up, Tom."

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

MetatoNN rolled and rolled, processing countless terabytes of data along the way until he saw traces of thicker civilization on the horizon and he stopped and stared at it a good long while.

He felt Reshiram, in her more natural dragon form, fly in with Tom and Roger astride her, but he did nothing at first.

~N! Please, stop this! This can't end well!~

"She's right, dammit! Your fucking internet omniscence scheme isn't gonna get anywhere!"

"N, please... Listen to Resh and Roger?"

MetatoNN was silent for a while longer. Just as Tom took note of a strange switch on his back, he finally turned around and spoke.

"...OH YES. THERE YOU ARE, DARLINGS."

Noticing the coldness in his voice, Reshiram hesitated before responding.

~...N?~

"IT'S TIME FOR MY BIG MOMENT. TIME FOR ME TO USE THE INFINITE KNOWLEGDGE OF THE INTERNET TO UNITE HUMANS AND POKEMON IN PEACE..."

"...NOT!"

Roger blinked. "But you said-"

"THE INTERNET? USED AS A TOOL OF HARMONY? GET REAL! TURNS OUT THAT'S A FORMULA AS HACKNEYED AS THE ONES THAT RUN TUMBLR!

ESPECIALLY SINCE THEY'RE PART OF THE PROBLEM LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE, EVEN MY OWN LOVINGLY-CRAFTED PLASBLR!"

"But you said it was going so awesomely! What happened?" Said Tom.

"THE INTERNET... IT PLAYED ME FOR A FOOL THE WHOLE TIME. AS I WATCHED IT ON THE SCREEN, I GREW ATTACHED TO HOW THE CODE OF FORMULAS THAT RAN IT ALLOWED HUMANS AND POKEMON ALIKE TO SHARE AND TALK AND HAVE FUN. I DESPERATELY WANTED TO BE A PART OF IT. SO I INSERTED MY OWN CONTRIBUTION. I CREATED PLASBLR, HONED IT, EXPANDED IT, LET OTHERS JOIN IN ON IT, SO I COULD ADD TO A VIRTUAL WORLD OF ELEGANCE AND BEAUTY..."

"...THAT DIDN'T EXIST."

Reshiram tilted her head. ~Wait, what the hell do you mean?~

"I THOUGHT THE INTERNET WAS THIS GREATEST THING THAT IT WASN'T. AS I OVERHAULED TUMBLR'S CODE, STUDIED OTHER SITES, DEVELOPED AND THEN RAN PLASBLR, THEN STARTED SYNCING IT AND THE REST OF THE INTERNET WITH MY OWN MIND... I SAW HOW AWFUL IT COULD BE. FIGHTS, OSTRACISING, BULLYING, SPEWING OF HATE THAT DRAWS FAR MORE ATTENTION AND MEAN-SPIRITED PRAISE THAN HEARTFELT EXPRESSIONS OF PASSION AND JOY... IT'S DISGUSTING. BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS I KNOW HOW TO STOP IT."

"...Please tell me this isn't going where I think this is going." Said Roger.

"YOU SEE, I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THE INTERNET BRINGING OUT THE WORST IN EVERYONE. I HAVE NO DESIRE TO KEEP FEEDING IT - FAR FROM IT, ACTUALLY. I ONLY DESIRED TO ENTERTAIN. BUT MY USERBASE STILL COULD USE A GOOD SHOW, COULDN'T THEY? AND WHAT'S A GOOD SHOW... WITHOUT A PLOT TWIST?"

Data starts streaming across MetatoNN's blocky face.

~N! W-what's going on?~ said Reshiram, hastily whipping up a few small flames.

"SORRY FOLKS, THE PREVIOUSLY-SCHEDULED UPDATE TO PLASBLR'S BEEN CANCELED! BUT WE'VE GOT A NEW ONE THAT'LL DRIVE YOU WILD! IT'LL LET ME HIJACK THE ENTIRE INTERNET AND USE IT TO DESTROY ALL HUMAN TECHNOLOGY AND COLLAPSE THE SOCIETY THAT CREATED THIS AWFULNESS! IT'LL BE THE ULTIMATE SHOW! SO WHAT IF COUNTLESS PEOPLE HAVE TO DIE? IF I LEFT THE INTERNET AS IS AROUND THEY'D JUST MAKE MEMES OF IT ANYWAY!"

Reshiram's flames grow brighter. ~N... I can't let you do this!~

She shoots a fireball at his robotic body, but it buffets harmlessly against it.

"NOT EVEN THAT WILL DO ANYTHING! I MADE THIS BODY IMMUNE TO THE STRONGEST ASSAULTS!"

"Great," said Roger, "Not only have you made yourself into a fucking omnicidal maniac, you've made yourself into an invincible omnicidal maniac!"

Tom just stares worried and unsure before something clicked and he turned to address MetatoNN directly. "Hey, MetatoNN! I've got advice for your apocalypse plan!"

"OH, THANK YOU TOM, FOR REFERRING TO ME BY MY PROPER NAME! AND USER FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED!"

"You're welcome! But there's a big city over there! If you want to announce their impending doom, why not do it live?"

"THAT IS AN EXCELLENT IDEA, TOM! I COULD EVEN STREAM IT!"

He turned around and turned up the volume of his microphone.

"GOOD AFTERNOOON, CITIZIENS OF-"

Before he could finish, Tom had run over and flipped the switch he'd noticed earlier on MetatoNN's back.

"Hah! I've exposed your weak point! We've got you now!"

MetatoNN simply froze for a few seconds before finally speaking.

"DID YOU. JUST FLIP. MY SWITCH?!"

He fails wildly as a blast of smoke from his body knocks Tom back. As Tom gets to his feet he and the others watch in bewilderment as stage lights appear out of nowhere and the smoke seems to be displaced by... Sparkles?

"...Tom, what the fuck did you do?!" Said Roger.

Suddenly, a very flamboyant version of N's voice echoed through the area.

"Oh my... If you flipped my switch, that can only mean one thing... You're desperate for the premiere of my alternate body. How rude. Lucky for you, I've been meaning to use this for modern civilization's grand finale... So, since you three seem so intent on turning on and stopping me... as a handsome reward, I'll make your last living moments..."

The obscuring smoke and sparkles dispersed as the spotlights shone brighter.

"...Absolutely beautiful!"

Before Reshiram, Tom, and Roger stood an android-ized version of N. His pants and shoes had morphed into armor-like boots and legs, his arms were divided into segments - black ones with white squares encircling them for his left, blocky gold ones for his right - that connected to white spiked shoulders on a equally white torso save for a symbol resembling his Mernger sponge on the right side of his chest, another symbol likewise resembling the shape of his necklace on his left, and the Plasblr logo on a plate attached to his waist. Sprouting from said torso was a head and face that looked much like his human self's except distinctly metallic and polished and with robotic touches, and his hairstyle had warped into something even more wild and wavy with large bangs obscuring his right eye.

Reshiram, Tom and Roger all stared at him awkwardly - Roger distinctly blushing - before responding in turn.

~...Hot damn.~

"...Hot damn."

"...H-hot fucking damn."

"Yes!" Said the now-humanoid MetatoNN. "Witness the glamorous debut of MetatoNN-EX!"

At this Reshiram quickly scowled. ~Hey! EX is a title reserved strictly for-~

"Oh," said MetatoNN-EX, "If we're going to have a pre-finale throwdown, you all best suit up for the occasion!"

Suddenly, Roger had Gyarados-y skin, facial fins, and eyes plus Zekrom-y armor and a matching spear. "Wha- Rrr! What the hell was that for?"

Tom now sported gray armor with strange black symbols, plus red boots, gloves, and a ragged bandanna-scarf around his neck. "NYEHEHEHEH!!! THESE LOOKS DON'T SEEM TOO BAD TO ME, ROGER!!!"

Reshiram looked at herself to initially see nothing had changed on her end. <Well phe->

Only for her to look again and notice she'd somehow been fitted with a labcoat and glasses. <O-oh no...>

"Now then you three!" Said MetatoNN-EX, "I'll be streaming this throwdown for the whole Plasblr community as a pre-civilization-extermination special, and the more views I get the better, so put up a good fight, will you?"

He struck elaborate poses as he tossed small bombs at the group; Tom ducked out of the way, Reshiram intercepted the bombs with fireballs, and Roger deflected them with his spear. One deflected bomb strikes the Plasblr symbol on MetatoNN-EX's waist, and he staggers back, stunned. Roger pumped his fist with a Gyarados-like triumphant growl.

"The Plasblr symbol's his real weak spot! Get it!"

~Y-yes!~ Said Reshiram. ~But be careful!~

"Oh, marvelous, marvelous, this is heating up!" Said MetatoNN-EX. "Now for some utterly fantastic close-quarters combat!"

He jumped and dives in toward the others, delivering a flurry of kicks with his armored legs. Roger and Reshiram are both struck and stunned, but Tom manages to duck out of the way and poke MetatoNN-EX's Plasblr symbol to somehow damage him more. MetatoNN-EX retaliates with another kick as he strikes a pose, sending Tom sprawling.

"DON'T FEEL SO GOOD..." Said Tom.

He then blinked and pulled out a cup with the words "Starfait" on it, grinning. "I MUST BE DEHYDRATED!!!"

He chugged it down.

"Oh! Starfait is one of Plasblr's sponsors!" Said MetatoNN-EX. "The ad revenue will let the stream spread to-"

He's cut off by Reshiram blasting his weak spot with another fireball, which he staggers back from again, then grins.

"Oh, you're a fiery one..." He said. "But how much fire do you bring... to the dance floor?!"

Before Reshiram knew it, she was suddenly tangoing with MetatoNN-EX beneath a massive disco ball.

<Er, um, I...>

The disco ball suddenly starts shooting lasers at her.

<A-ah!>

She rapidly attempted to dodge the lasers while still keeping in tandem with MetatoNN-EX before incinerating the disco ball and then blasting him back with a Dragon Pulse.

MetatoNN-EX quickly recovered and tossed more bombs. Roger deflects them all and gives a frenzied snarl. "You're really pissing me off! And I'm not exactly happy with all those people you suckered into watching your stream of us being entertained by you fucking with us!"

"Ooh!" Said MetatoNN-EX. "The stream chat just got loaded with people rooting for your destruction! Helps prove my point when this is all said and done!"

Roger snarls again, but then smirks. "Well, then, how's this for my point?"

He rushes in with his spear, ramming it into the Plasblr symbol hard enough to send MetatoNN-EX reeling.

"ROGER THAT PUN WAS BAD AND YOU SHOULD FEEL BAD!!!" Said Tom.

Roger snarls again. "Well it seemed to work just fine on him!"

Immediately after he says so, MetatoNN-EX's limbs pop off.

~Aah!~ said Reshiram. ~Not fine!~

"...A-arms?" said MetatoNN-EX. "W-hho needs arms when you have legs like these? I'm still going to win!"

He kicked up his legs in acrobatic poses to fire a flurry of bombs out of the soles of his metal green boots. However, everyone now is able to predict their trajectory enough to dodge and deflect them all, striking dramatic poses upon neutralizing them completely. MetatoNN-EX's smug smile breaks a bit.

"T-they're rooting for you all now..."

He scowled. "Enough of this! You want civilization to continue ravaging itself?! Or do you just believe in yourselves that much?! Regardless - fine then, it's either me or you all! But we all know who's going to win. Witness the true power of the liberator from technology-driven hatred!"

The Plasblr symbol glowed and unleashed massive bursts of energy at Tom, Roger, and Reshiram. Tom and Roger are both instantly blown back and crash to the ground; Reshiram, however, manages to take the hit and retaliate with a last-ditch Draco Meteor that blew off MetatoNN-EX's legs as well.

After the blow, MetatoNN-EX's limbless torso and head fall to the ground, somehow still standing upright. After staring out into space in shock, he gives a weak chuckle. "Heh... You think you've won, haven't you. Hosting this stream got Plasblr the highest traffic it's ever had... More than enough to destroy civilization and all its toxicity-spreading technology with it forever..."

His voice started shifting more to its human self. "And yet... With that increased power, connection... I saw hope."

Reshiram staggers, panting, from the Draco Meteor but manages to keep her eyes locked on him. <H-hope?>

MetatoNN-EX paused before speaking again, his voice now fully that of his former self.

"The Internet was a dark, cruel, place... But I saw lights... Lights in the darkness... Places where it had genuinely made people's lives better... or even sved them... Places where people had made the best freinds they ever had... Places where people disavowed the darkness and cruelty of the larger whole to form safe places to have fun and be kind and caring to one another on a smaller scale... All this on Plasblr and beyond... Those lights in the darkness, those sparks... In the end, I saw that was the only way to fight the hatred... The part worth fighting for..."

He finally looked straight up into Reshiram's eyes.

"And... Now I realize... I need to value the friends that make a point of light in my life... You, Tom, Roger, all others who've helped me... I... I'm sorry."

Tears streamed down Reshiram's face as she approached him and placed the claws of one of her wings onto a-now armless shoulder.

<I... N, I'm just glad you're back.>

He smiled widely back.

Tom and Roger then groggily picked themselves off the ground.

"...Did we win?" Said Tom.

"Considering Resh seems to be chummy with a delimbed and less-omnicidal android, I'm hoping yes," said Roger.

The two stagger to their feet and join Reshiram. N looked between them all, smiling.

"Heh... Good to see you all are at least back to normal..."

The three look down at themselves to see the effects of the battle had disappeared.

"Aww, I liked that armor..." Said Tom.

"I'd prefer not literally seeming fishy," said Roger.

Reshiram then looked over to N with concern. ~...On that note... How are we going to get you human again?~

N frowned. "I'm battle damaged enough I can't recall the function I figured out for that... I think it might be on what's left of this body somewhere...

Roger scanned him up and down, then noticed a slot saying "Insert Coin To Liberate" between N's chest and waist.

"Well, there we have it. Hold on..." He pulled out a coin from his pocket and moved to put it in the slot.

N looked over at Roger to see what he was doing and panic.

"Roger wait, no, that's my-"

Too late. Roger had plunked the coin in, and a timer immediately appeared in its place counting down just enough for N to say:

"...Coin-operated self-destruct. Not one of my better ideas."

A several-megaton explosion obliterated all in the vicinity.

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

"...And that's why we can't let N learn programming!'

"...Tom, this is why I told you not to play that sleeper hit video game everyone went gaga over all in one sitting."

"Hey, the game was super-fun! But my story could totally happen!"

"Look, you full well N would never-"

*You're listening to all this idly from the other room, of course, sipping from your custom-made "World's Best Fire Dragon Godess" coffee mug.

*Roger is correct anyway. N wouldn't make a social media site, turn himself into a robot, and try to destroy society.

*You know N. He's grown so much. You're so proud of him.

*Besides, you already have a laptop of your own and a Tumblr account. You figured things out yourself and post there all the time.

*...You also briefly considered running a Volcaryu hateblog on the side but very, very admittedly decided that was a bad idea for several reasons, so you'll think of something else for now.

*You move to take another sip of your coffee as you reassure yourself that N would be fine learning some programming. He probably actuallywould enjoy it anywa-

"Hey, Reshiram, this must be your Tumblr you told me about!"

*You freeze as the mug is about to touch your lips.

"You've made some great posts, I can't stop reading!"

*You make no sudden movements, reassure yourself this is totally harmle-

"This picture moves when you click on it! This Zorua's rolling around in some warm blankets! It's adorable!"

*...You further reassure yourself this is just a coinciden-

"Inspect... eechteeemell?"

*You wordlessly drop your coffee cup as it shatters on the floor. He doesn't seem to notice.

"This... This whole display is made of formulas! It's amazing! It's beautiful! I want to see more of how it works!"

*You feel your sins crawling down your back.

"Though... Looking at them again, some of these formulas seem off, wrong somehow..."

*You run. You don't know how you do it so fast, it could be just that you're a Legendary. All you know is you need to stop one of the best friends you've ever had, one of the only friends you've ever had, from suffering a terrible fate and taking you and everyone else you care about with him.

"Is there any way I can fix i-"

* Laptop

[FIGHT] [ACT] [ITEM] [MERCY]

[ACT]

*Shut Down

*Immolate

*Toss

* Toss

*You toss the laptop at a nearby window. It shatters and flies through the window with a loud crash.

*N stares, then looks at you with genuine concern.

"...Did you post an embarrassing picture of yourself or something?"

***

#mettaton ex #n pokemon #fanfic #yangverse

7 notes · View notes

dataframe-blog · 7 years

Text

Sometimes Rosita wants to ask Fletcher how she knows how to survive and how clutching Fletcher’s hand can make her feel safer when Fletcher isn’t in a better position than her. She wants to ask why Fletcher would give her the time of day when Rosita wouldn’t have done the same for anyone if it meant more food for herself for just a few more days.

“Cold out today. They’re slower.”

Rosita hums a little, an acknowledging sound. She pushes her face harder against the space between Fletcher’s shoulder blades. Fletcher is messing with a pocketknife that she picked up days ago. There’s a bottle opener on it. Rosita hopes they use it someday when the world isn’t ending.

“I’ll go out later,” Rosita offers, like she always does. She owes her and keeping their cots together so they can stay warm and Rosita can shove her hand between Fletcher’s legs until they both forget the state the world is in doesn’t count as paying her back. “See if I can get more canned shit at the grocery store.”

“We searched the whole place last week.” Fletcher’s voice is the same. Patient and understanding but not wanting Rosita to throw herself somewhere that she doesn’t need to be. The less they were put in danger, the better. In a city, it wasn’t just the savages that they had to worry about. Other survivors would be looking for supplies too. Rosita doesn’t argue but a pout settles on her face until Fletcher twists around to look at her.

“I’m not gonna go,” Rosita promises and watches as Fletcher, now appeased, gets up and heads to one of their backpacks to yank a blanket out of it. It’s dirtier than it should be and thinner than what Rosita would find useful right now, but she can still remember frantically shoving it in her pack while her parents, panicked in their own right, tried to get their children still living with them to pack a single bag as fast as they could of their most important things.

Rosita remembers when Adonis got sick. She remembers how slow it was, how stubbornly Adonis fought. She remembers not being allowed near her. She remembers her family not having enough for the infamous cure.

She remembers the equally slow process of Mom’s breathing getting harder and harder too. She remembers when she quit eating because she couldn’t keep anything down and she wasn’t about to pointlessly take food from her and her siblings. She remembers her parents arguing. She remembers both of them leaving and only Mami coming back.

She doesn’t know what Fletcher has gone through and maybe that’s for the best, but she wants to reach out. Rosita hates herself for the few nights that she has tucked her head in under Fletcher’s chin and cried into her neck.

Rosita goes easy when Fletcher lays down and pulls her down with her. Her body is small enough for the blanket to fit her without much of a problem, but Fletcher’s feet stick out and Rosita ends up stretching her legs a little so she can cover Fletcher’s feet with her own. “I heard the military was gonna be rolling through again.”

“They shoot on sight.”

Rosita doesn’t stop to think about how she knows that.

“I guess. We could use another gun though. Ammo, at least.” She speaks more to the abandoned subway than to Fletcher. Realistically, Rosita knows they won’t get something as vital as weapons or ammo from anyone claiming to be there doing good. She was better off swinging around the fire axe that she had found when they first took up shelter there, with little more than a face mask as armor to battle the contagion.

Fletcher tugs and Rosita abandons her thoughts again in favor of moving half on top of her, ignoring how her cot sinks a bit in its effort to hold two people up.

Had it not been for Fletcher, Rosita knows she would be dead. Her family had been separated and she’d been ready for infection. She hadn’t had any intention of begging for her life then and Fletcher hadn’t made her do such a thing.

“We could try the library,” Fletcher whispers.

“The library? There’s just books there. Good for a fire, I guess, but we can’t really have a fire down here.”

“That’s what everyone else is gonna think too. No one’s gonna raid a library.”

Rosita’s heart swells a bit in her chest because Fletcher still sounds cautious, as if she hadn’t been single-handedly saving their asses since day one. As if she hadn’t already been making all the good decisions and preventing Rosita from making the terrible ones, like searching an empty grocery store again.

“So we’ll go to the library,” she agrees, bumping up against Fletcher until the other woman looks down and lets Rosita kiss her.

---

Guns had never been Rosita’s strong point. With her height deterring her from using things that would put her too close to the savages like knives, her fire axe had proved to be valuable. Guns were long range and handy, sure, but what if Fletcher misses the headshot? It’s Rosita that steps in swinging, driving the top of it against the thing’s chest, staggering it, and driving her weapon sideways into its side. It falls, staying on the ground just long enough for Rosita to do the same to its head.

She adjusts her face mask as if both of them hadn’t quadruple checked each others’ masks before they left.

“Yuck,” Rosita offers up, trying to make light of a permanently heavy situation. At least Fletcher doesn’t gag when she does the killing blow anymore. They make their way into the library, Rosita first because she’s smaller and Fletcher can shoot over her shoulder if she needs to but Rosita can’t swing through Fletcher. It’s dusty and Rosita thinks she sees a mouse scramble away, but that’s the only movement inside the torn little building. It’s more enclosed that she would have liked—claustrophobia hadn’t set in until she experienced trying to crawl under a vehicle for safety. She doesn’t like the idea of something waiting just around the corner.

The smell of death pulls her from her thoughts. A rotting woman lays outstretched on the front desk. Fletcher leads her away before she can think about anyone she knows rotting away like that. Was that a fate worse than deteriorating into something that only wanted to tears things apart? She wasn’t sure.

Fletcher looks for food, bottles of water, clothes, anything that could prove to be useful. Rosita looks through the shelves, flips through anything she recognizes.

“Would you read to me?”

Fletcher doesn’t hear her or pretends she doesn’t. Rosita doesn’t ask again but she tucks a few books into the empty pack on her back for later. She tells herself that there’s some practical use for them. There’s a puzzle that sits in the kids’ section that she shoves into her pack as well before she goes to find her companion.

“I haven’t found anything,” she reports back as soon as she finds the taller girl just in time to see Fletcher turning an opened box of granola bars over in her hands, having been going through the desks there.

“Your pack doesn’t look as empty,” Fletcher points out, causing Rosita to shift and draw the straps of her backpack a little tighter with a shrug. She looks back down at the desk drawer and Rosita’s gaze drifts back to the woman at the front. “There’s a back room. If you wanna check it out.”

It’s meant to distract her and it works. Rosita offers up a smile, steps close to give her a kiss (which amounts to her bumping her face against Fletcher’s cheek thanks to the masks), and walks away in search of the other area.

It’s more of a study area than a back room. Computers line the far wall, though most of their screens are busted. There’s more shelves, this time with things more akin to reference material than works of fiction. Rosita finds herself in the little section about maps, thumbing through one of the bigger books.

She doesn’t hear shuffling but she does hear the grunt alongside books toppling over. Rosita can’t bring her axe up at a proper angle fast enough and gets grabbed, hard. Her arm is wrenched at an awkward angle just as harshly and she shoves into the thing trying to rip into her. It knocks into the shelf next to them but drags her down with it.

Calling out for Fletcher ends up being unnecessary because landing wrong on her ankle and crying out because of it means Fletcher shows up a whole three seconds later, yanking her back. It was too close. She had been too close and now Fletcher was too close to her. She recoils, shoves Fletcher, and stumbles on her now weak ankle. It gives her some momentum to start hacking away at the thing before it can get up. It’s not so sickening to dismember something that was putting both of them in danger.

“Go. It’s okay.”

Fletcher doesn’t. “It’s not,” she mutters, turned away from what used to be a creature that used to be a person but not so much so that she couldn’t see the wide-eyed look on Rosita’s face.

Rosita’s good at acting unfazed but when something affects her, it does so blatantly. Her shaking hands almost have her dropping her axe. She puts distance between herself and Fletcher, snatching a world map off the wall and rolling it up. Later, she’ll point to all the places she wanted to go as a kid. Later, she’ll point out the same places and say she’ll take Fletcher there.

Now, all she can think about is whether her face mask works as well as she needs it to.

---

It’s the placebo effect. So convinced that she’s sick, Rosita feels it. It’s the reason why she keeps trailing behind Fletcher, like she wants Fletcher to save herself and just leave her but Fletcher keeps stopping and advising that they really did need to move and Rosita could rest her ankle as soon as they got home. She keeps shooting looks at the abandoned roads they pass. Rosita can’t figure out why until she hears the distant, familiar rumbling of a military vehicle.

Ammo. Guns. If she’s sick, what does she have to lose?

“Hey!” Rosita calls out when the vehicle is close enough and Fletcher is far enough away. Fletcher, to her credit, comes right back to her and she looks livid. They shoot on sight, Rosita recalls her words. She forgets how fast Fletcher can move until the taller girl is taking her by the arm and all but dragging her away, weaving through alleyways and cutting sharp corners just in case Rosita had been heard. She wasn’t.

Rosita stumbles her way after her. It doesn’t really reach her how much her ankle hurts. It doesn’t even reach her how angry Fletcher is, not until they’re “home” but she recognizes that it’s fear-anger and not anger-anger. Rosita wishes it was anger-anger.

“What was that? What were you tryin’ to do?” Fletcher yanks off her own face mask. Rosita doesn’t.

“Getting guns? That’s what they’re fucking here for, right?” Rosita wants a fight. She needs it to be easy to slip away. “Because they’re sure as fuck not here to get rid of those disgusting fucking things if I had to kill two since we left.”

Fletcher moves like she’s going to take off Rosita’s face mask and Rosita drops her map so she can clasp a hand frantically over it. Her face softens just a bit, understanding. It isn’t the first time this has happened.

Rosita thinks about her parents. She couldn’t ask Fletcher to kill her. Suicide by military seemed like the way to go if it was going to happen. She stiffens like she’s waiting for a lecture but it doesn’t come. Instead, Fletcher goes to the cots and takes the thin blanket, folds it up until it’s enough to keep Rosita’s ankle elevated if she were to lay down.

She’s trying.

Rosita doesn’t go to the cots. She goes to the few clothes she has so she can change out of anything that now has blood on it. She ends up changing out of everything because it feels like she can’t get the sickness off of her.

“I’d get sick of taking care of me if I were you.”

“I’m not.” It’s so simple. Fletcher makes it sound so simple.

“You could,” Rosita accuses. She’s not sure what she’s trying to accomplish. Pushing Fletcher away? It’s better than the prospect of getting her sick. Fletcher doesn’t say anything though, ruining the momentum Rosita has built up to ruin this one good thing she has. Deflated, all she’s left with is the persistent pain in her ankle.

She yanks her cot away from Fletcher’s that night. She can’t drag someone down with her.

---

Fletcher gets shot once. Sort of. It doesn’t go through her arm exactly, but it slices her bicep open pretty good and it bleeds and bleeds and bleeds but they can’t slow down until they’re sure they’ve lost the soldiers that had spotted them.

Putting whispering what the fuck under her breath over and over again on hold, Rosita catches her breath and grabs for Fletcher while her companion slumps a bit against the brick wall of the building next to them. “I don’t have anything to stop it with,” she realizes, but that doesn’t stop her from digging through her backpack. She can tear up her shirt. She can do something. It’s hurting her heart to see the pained twist Fletcher’s expression has, the other girl’s hand clasped over her wound and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Fletcher is so much stronger than Rosita could ever hope to be.

So when a cheery voice interrupts Rosita’s panic, she’s not surprised when Fletcher still lifts her gun and shifts away from the wall, just enough to make sure Rosita can’t shield her. It’s not the blonde that alarms them, even if it seems like she came out of nowhere.

It’s the solid, stoic, steady woman behind her with a much, much bigger gun trained on Fletcher. Rosita swears she can feel angry heat radiating off of her when Fletcher points her gun at the blonde. She won’t take the shot, Rosita knows that. Not unless they’re in jeopardy. She’s not so sure about the woman holding the much more impressive firearm though.

“We can chat,” the blonde offers, hands in the air. She’s not armed. Rosita can’t figure out her angle, growing even more confused when she continues on without mention of a catch. “Your friend here is gonna bleed out though, and my wife can stitch people up in her sleep. We can help.”

“Tell her to put the gun down,” Rosita demands. They won’t be taken off guard. She can’t count the number of times they had been stolen from, just narrowly escaping with their lives. Right now, they can’t afford to face more theft. They were starving and now Fletcher was hurt.

“She’s not going to do that.” The blonde doesn’t hesitate with her answer but she does offer up what seems like a genuinely apologetic look. “Just like your friend wouldn’t if I asked her to. The longer we stand here, the more time we waste. We can’t take you home but we’ve got a place.”

Rosita shares a look with Fletcher. Her woman is hurt and obviously not wanting to accept a hand-out, but Rosita can’t let them waste more time. The defeated sag of her shoulders is all the answer anyone needs. Fletcher doesn’t look happy, but Fletcher also looks about a minute away from passing out. Rosita takes the gun from her, ignoring how jarring it was to immediately have a gun trained on her the second their gun switched hands, and looped her free arm around Fletcher to support her.

“I’m Selena,” the blonde speaks up again, moving to take Fletcher’s other side but Fletcher doesn’t accept the help. It doesn’t bother the blonde, though she does shuffle forward to lead the way while her wife falls into step behind them.

Nobody else introduces themselves. The only thing Rosita can focus on is Fletcher’s weight leaning heavier and heavier against her, distracted only by each gunshot behind her from the otherwise silent woman each time a savage came out.

Headshot. Headshot. Headshot. Headshot.

Rosita can’t help but think that she’s walking them to their death.

---

Curling up in Fletcher’s lap seems selfish when she’s hurting so much but Rosita can’t stop herself and Fletcher doesn’t object. Sure, she can’t really comfortably wrap her injured arm around her, but she’s got a whole other arm and that’s good enough for Rosita. They aren’t alone but that doesn’t stop Rosita from pressing a few easy, slow kisses against Fletcher’s lips, whispering promises of making it up to her for not giving her a choice as far as accepting help from a stranger went. Now they had debt. Rosita wonders how they’ll be made to pay up.

“Thank you.” End of the world or not, Mami taught her manners and Rosita doesn’t forget them. Sadness sweeps over her for a second but it doesn’t show on her face as she turns to Selena and Desi, a name she had learned while Selena was asking her to shove a few tables together in the abandoned restaurant Rosita and Fletcher were taken to.

Selena leaves Desi’s side and wanders close to them, seemingly oblivious to both of them leaning away from her where they sat in a booth when she scoots onto the table. “If we don’t look out for each other, we’re all gonna end up zombies.”

Rosita rolls her eyes before she can help herself because those things aren’t zombies. They’re not undead. They’re barely really functioning and they can’t really be called people anymore and sure, maybe in the process of tearing people apart they may eat a few body parts, but she knows zombies. They aren’t half as terrifying as these things.

Maybe the fact that they’re still alive is the worst part, that there could be a person underneath all the layers of sickness and rage. Could they still be cured like this? Were they killing good people? Fletcher tightens her hold on her and Rosita melts into her.

“Yeah, sure.”

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sakura-soldier · 7 years

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To-Do List

I was tagged by @winter-is-ending and boy, it's a lot to think about! Do this: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or as little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, arts, gifsets, whatever. 1. I'm drawing fanart for @crop-stomper (also known as CelticGames4 on fanfiction.net) about the escorts of Danzón: The 125th Hunger Games! I'll be making 2 drawings, actually. I'll explain them individually. a) Right now, I'm drawing one depicting the escorts wearing their Reaping outfits (or something close to it) in headshot mode. I'm currently almost done the pencil sketches and I'm hoping to finish it as soon as possible; I just need to draw my own OC (and my current bae), since he's also an escort and working for this Quarter Quell. I have some problems figuring out how to draw his hair though.... *scratches head* I'm not gonna tell you his name just yet though, or the other escorts. *smiles mysteriously* b) Ok, I'm REALLY excited about this particular project. According to the plot of Danzón and Celtic's words, there'll be a Pre-Games Party/Victors' Ball hosted by the current president, Pilotheos Blossius, and it will take place after the interviews but the night before the official Hunger Games. Alongside the headshots, I've also gotten permission from Celtic to design the escorts' outfits specifically created for the party! \^.^/ I got, like, so many ideas and I'm so hyped I can't wait to draw them all!!! Besides, my experience in art and knowledge in fashion should come in handy for this project. Depending on the individual escort, I will be taking inspiration from the Hunger Games movies, high fashion/fashion shows, Flare and Elle magazines (maybe Vogue?), fashion shown and created in places like tumblr or Pinterest or Etsy, fashion blogs, and lolita, while still keeping true to the Celtic!verse, the submitters' descriptions, and my own twists on things. I'm also gonna draw my OC in his party outfit for the story (I have something awesome and unique just for him!), but chances are, he'll end up having his own separate page compared to everyone else's because there's a lot of detailed components in his outfits (it doesn't help that his "date" for the night is one of the mentors/co-worker) and he's PROBABLY gonna make ovaries explode (and dicks). The bigger question though; should I draw my OC first or draw the other escorts first? If you want more information on those drawings or have any questions about the escorts before I unleash both of the drawings to the world, just tell me and I'll be willing to answer it! 2. Finish chapter 13 and 14 of Subzero Hero. Subzero Hero is an Ultimate Spider-Man/Rise of the Guardians crossover of mine; so basically, at some point, Spider-Man discovers and meets a superhero who can use, create, and manipulate snow, frost, and ice, which is Jack Frost. At the same time, Peter and his teammates discovers a new student who's attending Midtown High and Peter ends up befriending him. But little did Peter know that his involvement with the new kid, and the new hero in town, will end up triggering and unfolding Jack's motives in the superhero business, with Peter as a catalyst.... believe me, it's a long story, but I promise you it's gonna be epic. It will even be part of a Marvel/Rise of the Guardians/Guardians of Childhood series that I've been planning for about 3 years now, with Subzero Hero being the first book. Chapter 13's supposed to contain the 2nd half of the cockroach cockfight (trust me, it's better and worse than it sounds). Chapter 14 will feature bento, somewhere, and I'm plotting another chapter (either 15 or 16) that will feature @winter-is-ending and her 2 OCs, Tracey and Barry. Not gonna spoil everything, but I'll give out several hints: Mel's old YouTube account. Disney. Video games. Ovaries will explode. Then MORE ovaries will explode. Followed by a shower of nosebleeds and hard-ons. 3. Try to stop procrastinating so much and do AT LEAST 1 chapter of either Spying For My Love (a Hetalia spy AU story that involved Norway and Iceland, agents of a top-secret spy organization called WISH, trying to win Liechtenstein's affections while trying to deal with an over-protective former agent and the notorious crime lord (?) Arthur Kirkland/England), Glacial Blaze (Bakugan drabbles about Keith Clay/Keith Fermin/Spectra Phantom, and how he became Spectra), New Lenses, New Insight (originally supposed to be an Ultimate Spider-Man Christmas gift fic for a guy named FrivolousThoughts, but it looks like it will become a two-shot instead..), or Costume Personas (an Avengers Halloween reader-insert where everyone in the world, including the Avengers, got transformed into murderous versions of their Halloween costumes and reader-chan, who's the only one unaffected, has to find a cure before she, or everyone else, gets killed). 4. Finish chapter 28 of Heroes of the Star and the Maple Leaf (a second fanfic of a Bakugan/Hetalia crossover series; this one takes place in Bakugan: New Vestroia and follows a similar plot to the original, but America and Canada are on a mission to save Japan, who somehow got kidnapped and tortured by the Vexos). Honestly, I have NO idea how to work out the plot for the chapter, but it will involve Ace, Marucho, and Shun waking up from their coma-like state and finding themselves in Earth somewhere. I'm hoping to actually finish that one because Bakugan's been around for 10 years now, so I'm planning to celebrate by bringing that story back up somehow. 5. Finish constructing my tumblr blog here. Yeah, it still looks messy but at least I'm getting better at organizing my profile. Hopefully I will also post and reblog stuff for real this time, too. I'm not sure who to tag so... I'm gonna tag @crop-stomper, @americanpi, @nerfherder-han, @vanjestic, @imaginaryanon, and @i-aim-to-overanalyze.

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

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Forget Me Not ~ YJG [Request]

➵➵➵Word count: 2,500

➵➵➵Genre: ermmm thriller??? mystery??? FLUFF

➵➵➵Pairing: Yang Jeongin x reader

➵➵➵A/N: This is my first time writing something with this kind of genre, I hope I did it justice enough for you as I was unsure of how to make it work. I hope it's okay though if not feel free to message me and I will rewrite the entire thing or write you something new. Love You.

The music you produced was like angels singing to Jeongin he adored everything you ever released and spent most of his free time listening to your music or looking up information on your fandom. The Stray Kids vacation was coming up and so was one of your concerts so he was planning on going to watch you live but as he delved deeper into your life and the fandom that surrounded it things started to feel weird. He noticed that the fans, named H.E.A.R.T.S after your stage name H.E.A.R.T seemed to be a little bit off, there was something there that didn't seem quite right. Normally fans were there to support the artist in everything you did but yours seemed to want to stop you from growing, making sure your music stopped at certain limits, stopping certain people from seeing interviews or photographs, everything was under lock and key with you and the company you worked for. Your real name was always hidden from the media and no one saw you unless the company allowed it, you weren't spotted out by paparazzi ever, and you were never seen except for live performances and interviews.

"What are you doing?" Chan asked when he walked in on the youngest member going through something on his laptop, I.N was trying to figure out more information on you but every website he seemed to go onto was blocked without proper passwords or hacking being needed.

"Ah, you're looking for H.E.A.R.T?" Jeongin looked up at the leader nodded and looked back down to the laptop, it was so weird that things around you were the way they were and he wanted to figure out why.

"No one knows the passwords unless they've been given them," Chan stated taking the laptop away and shutting it,

"No one knows who she is though...What's her name? Her age? Where does she come from?!" Jeongin was really interested in finding out everything and anything he could about you, and maybe that was the point in your fandom being so secretive, so that it would drawer more and more people into the investigation that was your life but all he knew was he wanted to know more.

Jeongin had tracked down the company you worked for using JYP's accounts thinking it would work better than a normal email, another company looking to collab with H.E.A.R.T is what he was posing as. Trying to discover anything he could,

Dear Mr J.Y. Park,

We would be delighted to let your singing Mr Yang Jeongin work with our artist H.E.A.R.T as we believe it would be a fantastic opportunity for them both to widen their fanbase however, H.E.A.R.T. is under a very strict time-consuming contract and we would have to have them record things separately, only meeting for one performance. We will arrange a conference call between H.E.A.R.T and Jeongin when the time is right for you, please let us know ASAP what your thoughts on this will be. What kind of song he will want to produce and we will get back to you.

Yours,

Sync Industries

Seoul, South Korea

That was a start, at least now he knew you were located in Seoul somewhere and he could work from there, he felt like one of the detectives he'd always seen on the TV or in mangas. He began replying the email and then going on to do his best to figure out more about you now he knew where you were and the company name that represented you.

He paced back and forth in the hallway of the apartment building he was standing in, he'd managed to find out where your family were living, your last name and he'd been fighting to go and see them for the last three days debating with himself if he would seem like a crazy stalker but there was nothing crazy compared to your fandom. He needed answers and he needed them now. He didn't tell anyone where he was going or what he was doing, he knew Chan would disapprove of this whole thing but he had to know what was going on. Taking a deep breath he walked up to the door and knocked on it, waiting patiently until a small elderly lady came to the door and looked at him,

"Hello," She greeted and he smiled at her, greeting her back.

"Hello, I just came to see if your granddaughter was home?" She ushered him into the house with a sad smile on her face, she sat him on a sofa and went to make tea without saying another word to him and he wondered if he'd gotten the right address.

"Miss Y/l/n?" She looked up at him as she brought a tray of tea into the room pouring him a cup and sitting opposite him on the other sofa.

"You mean our young Y/n? Y/l/n?" That name, he remembered that name as if he knew it but he'd never even heard of you until your music, and he didn't remember you from anything else except that.

"Yes, Y/n." He said your name as if he was trying to memorise it and she sighed getting up from the sofa and going over to a photo album, she brought it back to him and showed him photos of you dating back from your birth until recent ones, but the more he flicked through the more he noticed that you were fading in recent photographs,

"She's fading away." He frowned not understanding what she was trying to tell him, then she pulled out a small box with notes inside.

Don't forget me x Was written in red ink on a piece of screw up paper, more notes with the same words scribbled across them were in the box, some with drawings on and other just plain pieces of paper. Jeongin felt his heart lunge whenever he saw the handwriting on the paper, his heart was racing whenever he turned over another note seeing the same message over and over again getting more and more distressed with each note.

"Will you put those old things away!" Another voice called out, Jeongin looked up from the book to see a woman the spitting image of you only a little older walking into the apartment carrying bags, he rushed up to help her and she thanked him.

"Is she showing you those? She always does this, we didn't have a daughter!" She yelled at the old lady who grumbled something and started packing everything away into boxes yet again.

"She likes to tell people we had a daughter, but I didn't. I can't have children you see," He carried the bags through to the kitchen for the women he thought was your mum but was unsure now she was telling him she'd never had a child before.

"I hope she didn't bore you too much." He laughed it off and collected his things to leave again, he was almost out of the building when the elderly woman came down the stairs clutching in her hands.

"Jeongin!" She called out which shocked him because he hadn't told her his name, she pushed something into his hands and walked back into the building. He waited until he was in the car to see what she'd given him, in his hand was a photo of himself standing next to you but you were fading quickly in the photo. Written across the back was

Jeongin remember me

He took the photo back to the dorms and studied it, trying to remember you. There was something in the back of his mind that he couldn't access through, as if something was blocking him from getting to the memory.

After explaining everything to Chan, Han and Changbin in explicit detail and showing them the photo they agreed to help him get to the bottom of everything that was surrounding you and H.E.A.R.T promising the youngest they would figure it out together which lead to them standing in the middle of Sync's building disguised as janitors.

"We don't even know where she is?! Is this going to work?" Changbin asked as they pushed a cart around the neverending building,

"We don't even know if she's in the building," Han added earning glares from both Jeongin and Chan as they got into another elevator.

"I'll take the top floor, Chanbin will take the lower levels, Han the middle and I.N. can take all the others." They agreed and spread out going to find you. It was midnight so the place was empty except for cleaners and a few guards that were roaming around the halls.

I.N was about to take out his phone and call Han defeated when he heard singing coming from a room, he put his phone down and walked down the hall in the direction of the studio door. He knocked but the singing stopped and the room fell into a dead silence.

"Y/n?" Your headshot up as someone said your name instead of your stage name and you felt your heart begin to pick up at the mere thought of someone knowing you were there.

"Hello!?" You yelled out banging on the table for them to open the door, it was never locked because no one ever bothered to come and see you anymore. The door opened slowly and stood there was your childhood friend Jeongin.

"I.N!" He jumped back a little as he took in your appearance, you were chained up to a desk by your ankle, you were wearing nothing but an old looking hoodie and some leggings.

"Y/n?!" He rushed over to you pulling at the chain to try and see how tight it was but you whimpered as he did so. You'd been trying to get out of them for years it was no use without the keys.

"How did you find me?!" You whispered looking at him and he stared at you, as soon as you stared into his eyes you felt your heart drop.

"You don't remember me do you?" You felt your heart shatter once he shook his head no at you,

"But I'm starting to remember small things, how long have you been here?" You looked at the calendar on your wall and then at him,

"Three years." You whispered knowing there was no way out of here,

"You need to leave before my manager comes and finds you," You whispered looking at him and then over at the door standing there were three boys you'd never seen before.

"We're your rescue team." One of them said in a thick Australian accent holding up a pair of bolt cutters,

"How did you know we'd need those?" The shortest one asked looking at the one with the Australian accent,

"I just assumed we'd need lots of stuff," He opened a bag to reveal a bunch of spy-like equipment, he walked over to you with the bolt cutters and looked at the chain around your ankle.

"Is it attached to anything? Like an alarm?" You shrugged your shoulders, you had no idea what it was attached you. All you knew was there was no way out of them without a key or in this case bolt cutters,

"Changbin, car. Go." Chan said throwing him the keys,

"Text me when it's out front," Jeongin ordered and Changbin ran off down the hall leaving the other one there,

"I'm Han by the way and he's Chan...The leader of your breakout crew."

A giant alarm went off throughout the building as soon as the chain was broken and you were sprinting down a flight of stairs holding Jeongin's hand as you headed for the main exit of the building,

"Faster!" Han yelled pulling you all in the direction of the doors, a shutter was starting to come down but you were out just in time and into the car, Changbin sped off down the high way in the direction of the JYP Building hoping you weren't being followed by whoever it was that had taken you in the first place.

Over the next few weeks, you'd explained in detail what happened to you. How you signed a simple contract without reading the small print and piece by piece your life was being taken away from you until the point that not even your mum remembered who you were,

"I still don't understand how I couldn't remember you," I.N said as he stared at the photography which was fully restored to you both sitting in front of a bonfire with smiles on your face,

"We were close." You whispered looking at the photo and then back up at Jeongin who looked pained that he'd forgotten you, you'd told him a million times that week it was fine and that you were fine now but it still didn't seem to settle his mind about it.

"Jeongin, everyone forgot not just you." You nudged him as you sat on the balcony of his dorm together, he stared at you as you looked out at the view of Seoul. You'd wanted to sit outside all day every day for as long as you could, it had been so long since you'd had fresh air. There was an investigation going down with the police looking into the contract between you and Sync but there were still things that weren't adding up for you,

"It was like a signed my soul away." You mumbled looking at the photograph. Jeongin had gone into extreme detail about the way it looked before, you were hardly there just an outline of your body and facial features.

"Whatever it was, you're safe now." His hands linked with yours and you stared down at them with a small smile across your face.

"Thanks to you." You whispered leaning across and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"I have no idea how I can ever thank you enough, but I'll do my best every day to remind you just how thankful I am." Your hands stayed locked together, it just felt right for the both of you to stay just like that right there, together with no other distractions except for the sound of traffic and people in the middle of Seoul you could have stayed there your whole life if time would let you.

"I promise to never let anything happen to you again." He whispered to you, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles and then bringing your hand up to his face to kiss it gently.

"I promise." He repeated before looking up at you, you stared back at him before he slowly leaned up to your face and pressed his lips against yours. Pulling away a couple of seconds later to check you were okay, when you kissed him back he was relieved he hadn't just creeped you out to the point where you didn't want to be around him anymore and that you wanted to kiss him again instead of pushing him away for good.

tagline:

@yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @jooniesdarlingdimples

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