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#and another one rocking a three piece brown suit with a red tie
doctor-whu · 2 years
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Seeing old aunties ,walking down the street, dressed in extremely cool and unique style makes my day <3
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sparrowjaywrites · 3 years
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Forget-Me-Not
-Spencer Reid x Female Reader-  Plot: When the team is caught in explosion you wake up with no memory of who you are, or who anyone on your team is.
Y/N = Your name
Y/L/N = Your last name
H/C = Hair color
Heat burned around her as the young woman stumbled to her feet; her vision was hazy, blurred. There was a part of her who wondered if the blurriness was from her pounding head or her missing glasses… glasses moments ago she hadn’t even known she wore. Her feet kicked against debris small stones and smoldering pieces of wood; she could see an opening… a doorway red and blue lights flashed through it. She coughed as she moved, she needed to run, to get out faster… yet despite her desperate need to escape, a need she didn’t understand she couldn’t make her feet drag any quicker over the soot covered floor.
She stumbled through the doorway the red and orange haze of smoke quickly replaced by police lights that blinked fast enough she wasn’t sure if everything was washed in blue and red or possibly purple as her vision began to blur more each time she coughed. A man… no two men raced towards her shouting words she couldn’t make out past the ringing in her ears. Her knees gave out just as one of the men a handsome black man with kind eyes reached her. The other man was just as handsome though in another way… cute with curly brown hair and a singed sweater vest over a buttoned up shirt that she was sure had once been white.
She let the men drag her towards the ambulance slumping into their arms her boots dragging on the black cement. She was placed on a stretcher the second man, the nerdy one she dubbed him simply climbed in with her holding her hand tightly in his. She didn’t know why he held onto her so tightly but she found she liked it; it was comforting for some unknown reason.
The drive to the hospital seemed to pass in a blink of an eye… or maybe she’d just passed out for a moment; that was more likely she mused as she was rolled through the ER doors. Nerdy man followed her inside but was quickly rushed away by a nurse. The nurses were speaking to her asking questions she still couldn’t fully hear though she could now make out the low hum of their voices. They quickly stopped speaking to her just offering her comforting smiles as they worked. She knew she must have been loud with her hisses and yelps of pain as they began to remove blackened pieces of cloth from her legs and chest, and small pieces of metal from throughout her body.
Nerdy man was back as soon as the nurses let him past. Again her hand was in his as he talked to her and tried to smile at her. She blinked at him blankly, she couldn’t hear him… the nurses must have said as much, a doctor had even looked in her ears. Why was he bothering? Who was he, why did he seem so upset by her blank stare? He lifted a hand from hers and brushed his fingers along her cheek, she jerked her head back at the motion. Holding her hand was one thing, to touch her face when she didn’t even know him was another. The man quickly moved his hand back looking at her questioningly; hurt clear in his brown eyes.
A nurse quickly joined them injecting something into her IV, it wasn’t until her eyes began to shut that she recognized the burn in her throat and realized she had been yelling. What she had yelled she had no idea, nor did she care as her eyes drifted closed.
---Line Break---
The next time the young woman awoke she was in a room. She scanned the room with squinted eyes, she couldn’t see much of anything clearly, no she would need her glasses for that. Glasses she had left behind in the burning warehouse she had woken in originally. She cursed her stupidity her eyes landing on a man reading a book beside her, she could hear the turn of the page every few moments, far too quickly for anyone to actually read she suspected. Blinking back the haze of sleep… or drugs, yeah definitely drugs, she recognized the man.
Why was Nerdy man by her bedside again? She blinked at him staring silently until he glanced up as the beeping of her heart monitor sped up as she tried to figure out who he was. Those brown eyes that seemed so very precious to her though she knew not why locked with hers. A relieved smile split the man’s face as she immediately set the book he’d been holding aside.
“Y/N?” His voice fit him, his long lanky form straightening as he grasped her hand once again. Y/N? Who was Y/N? Was she Y/N? The woman blinked fear flickering through her as she realized she didn’t know… what was her name? How old was she? When was her birthday? Who was the man sitting next to her? “Whoa, hey it’s okay, you’re safe, we’re safe.” Nerdy man quickly reached out cupping her cheek in his large hand his long fingers gently caressing her skin as she began to hyperventilate.
“Who are you?” She managed to rasp out past her smoke damaged throat. Brown eyes widened at her question his hand quickly falling from her cheek as he gazed into her eyes worriedly.
“Y/N? It’s me, Spencer.” Spencer… the name fit, recognition pinged in the back of her mind, though the sensation was short and fleeting gone before she could grasp it.
“I… am I Y/N?” She swallowed thickly speaking her words slowly, she could hear the fear in her voice, it was almost solid it was so thick. Nerdy man… no, Spencer closed his eyes clearly blinking back panicked tears as he took a deep breath then nodded.
“Yes, you’re Y/N. I’ll be right back.” He quickly stood striding out of the room in long strides on long legs. Though blurred Y/N couldn’t help but note he had a very nice ass… shut up, Y/N, this isn’t the time. She chastised herself surprised how quickly she accepted her new… or old name. It felt like a long while before Spencer returned followed by two men, one clearly a doctor in a white coat the other a man in what was clearly a suit, though he had the tie and jacket draped over his arm.
“Hello, Agent Y/L/N, my name is Doctor Lynn; Spencer here tells me you don’t remember him?” The doctor asked slowly giving her a content smile. Y/N shakes her head silently noting the deep frown on the suited older man’s face and the pain that quickly covered Spencer’s face. “Agent Y/L/N do you know where you are?”
“A hospital… is Y/L/N my last name?” Her eyes move to Spencer as she asks the question, he had stood by her through everything from the moment she’d stumbled out of the warehouse too lying in the bed she was now in. He was who she trusted to answer her honestly.
“Yes,” Spencer said clearly though his voice rasped with unshed tears. Suit man placed a hand on his arm reassuringly.
“Agent Y/L/N, can you tell me what you remember about yourself?”
“I… I have H/C hair…” She responds after a moment of thought, small flashes of cutting off long H/C locks in a bathroom, a school bathroom as a teenager flashing through her mind, “I wear glasses… I left them in the warehouse… I couldn’t fully remember them so I didn’t pick them up.” She adds after a moment.
“Well you’re correct on those counts. Agent Hotchner, Dr. Reid could you please wait in the waiting room?” Both men shared wary looks but nodded leaving the room. The suited man shooting her a caring smile on his way out. The next few hours… at least it felt like hours were spent being whisked through the hospital from one machine to another then back again. Nurses explained what they were doing every step of the way, every hour she was asked if the remembered the three words the doctor had told her before her bed had been rolled from her room. Spoon, House, Rock. She passed with flying colors or so her Nurse, Rebecca Jones informed after each memory check.
“It seems you have amnesia Agent Y/L/N. We believe it was caused by the head injury you received in the blast along with brain damage caused by multiple seizures you experienced in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.” Dr. Lynn explained slowly and simply making sure she nodded before continuing. “You seem to be forming new memories and retaining information perfectly well, which is a surprise considering your ADHD, making us believe your experiencing retrograde amnesia, your bouts of recognition also assure us your symptoms are temporary.”
“So I’ll get my memories back?”
“You should, I can’t promise you’ll get them all back, you’ll likely never remember the moments before the blast, but overall we have high hopes for your prognosis, Agent Y/L/N.” They discussed more technical things such as bringing in a social worker and psychologist to determine if she is mentally sound enough to be in charge of herself or if her medical power of attorney would need to be brought in. It was quickly determined she would need to be placed under her medical power of attorney’s power until she at least remembered more about herself and her life. From there though she was informed of everything being done and all conversations she was not a part of them.
Normally she’d have been furious about this she suspected but considering she couldn’t even remembered her damn birthday let alone what medications she was one, where she worked, or any of her family she agreed this was probably for the best. She didn’t see Spencer or suit man again until the next day; they came into the room cleaned up and in fresh clothes.
“Hey, Y/N how you feeling?” Suit man asked smiling at her.
“Like I was blown up… which I was so that seems pretty apt.” She shrugs in response. She had learned she had second degree burns covering both her legs and a good portion of her chest. She had also been riddled with shrapnel though all of it had been removed and the cut’s either sewn or glued closed and covered. She was told she could be released in about forty eight hours when she’d been woken for the billionth time by her nurse that morning. All her wounds could be managed outside the hospital but they wanted to keep her a few days due to her concussion.
“Memories or not you’re still you.” Suit man snorts with a small grin.
“Good to know. So which of you is my medical power of attorney? They said you two were handling my affairs so I assume it’s gotta be one of ya?”
“I am, I uh… we made each other our power of attorney’s when we moved in together.” Spencer spoke up nervously. Y/N’s eyebrow rose at his words… moved in together? Her mind flicked to the sense of comfort she got from him clutching her hand, the way her mind immediately jumped to… less than appropriate thoughts when looking at his very fine ass, and the way he hand caressed her cheek. Oh… oh, that made a lot more sense now.
“Dating, engaged, or married?” She asked calmly smiling as he immediately turned bright red and started stuttering over himself.
“You two are married.” Suit man snorted. Y/N nodded slowly, thinking hard she could remember a wedding dress, blue flowers… forget-me-nots… huh ironic she snorted at the memory before smiling. It may have only been flashes but the memories brought joy, so very much joy.
“What are you smiling about?” Spencer finally found his voice sitting beside her in the same chair he’d been sat in the night before.
“I was trying to remember, forget-me-nots… at our wedding? A bit ironic now wouldn’t you say?” She asked with a small laugh. Spencer’s face lit up at her words as he chuckled along with her.
“I’ve never known anything to fit the meaning of the word better.”
“I mean, the odds, we tempted fate with that one didn’t we?”
“Clearly...” He took her hand in his squeezing it. “Do you… remember anything else?”
“My dress, at least I’m assuming I was the one in the dress,” She raises an eyebrow her eyes moving up and down his slim form. “Though I’m sure you’d look very beautiful in one.” The laughter from her other side was sudden and quickly covered up with a cough as suit guy quickly left the room.
“Your dress… I don’t wear dresses” Spencer quickly confirmed his own amused smile blindingly bright. Maybe, just maybe she could get through this after all?
 ______________________________________________________ AN: Hey Everyone I know it’s been years since I posted but I’m back with this little story I suddenly had the urge to write at 3 am. I plan to post the original version of this which is with my original character as well for anyone interested in that. I may make a part 2 if people are interested, and if not then the one with my character will probably at least get a part two. I hope you all enjoy!
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heavenfordoms · 3 years
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”Innocent“ Hug (Deku x fem! Reader):
Pairing(s): Deku x reader
Warning(s): 18+ minors DNI, cussing, manga spoilers, riding, death, semi-public sex, eating out
Genera: angst to fluff to smut
A/N: wait this was actually fun and easy to write for me wtf
Fandom: My hero academia (boku no hero academia)
Glossary:
Y/n = your name
Summery: Bakugou looses his life in battle and y/n goes to comfort Deku, soon Deku ends up forgetting about Bakugou as y/n rides him
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You sucked in a breath, holding it for a while as you stared at the villain in front of you. You where crouched down low so you knew that he couldn’t see you. But you sure saw him. Your quirk was called memory, you could memorize anything that you wanted. The downside to this quirk is that while your mind was full of knowledge your body was weak so it was no good for battle-training, another bad thing (or more annoying then anything) is that we can’t forget it, ever, even if you wanted to. You remember every single detail of your life and every single thing that has happened to this point in grave detail. Not like you wanted to remember it, but you felt so worthless that it was almost blood to memorize everything. Like how there where five street lamps outside the bar. They where dimly lit and flickered every five second, each one after the other. The one on the very right was the first to flicker then it would go all the way to the left. Sometimes the one in the very middle would shut off at random times as the other lamps brightly shone in the night-sky.
“Could you stop mumbling?!” Katsuki whisper-yelled at you. You slightly cringed at the blonde male’s words before nodding your head in a form of acceptance (for some reason people saw that as acceptance so you did as well).
Katsuki is a young man of average height for somebody his age, with a slim, muscular build, and a fair skin tone. He has short, spiky, ash-blond hair with choppy bangs that hang over his eyebrows. His eyes are sharp and bright red in color. His hero costume is composed of a tight, black, sleeveless tank top, with an orange "X" across the middle, forming a v-neck. There are two dots along the left line of his collar, indicating the support company that designed his costume. His costume also has a metallic neck brace worn with rectangular ends that have three holes on each side. His sleeves reach from within his large grenade-like gauntlets to his biceps. His belt, which also carries grenades, holds up his baggy pants with knee guards, below which he sports black, knee-high combat boots with orange soles and eyelets. His mask is jagged and black, and as it goes around his eyes, a large, orange-rimmed flare shape protrudes from each side.
You focused your eyes off of Kastsuki and onto Dabi, the villain who was standing guard outside the bar. Dabi is a fairly tall, pale young man of a slim, somewhat-lanky build, described to be in his early twenties. He has white hair with a few red streaks at the crown that spikes upward around his head, hanging low over his eyes, which are thin, turquoise in color, and heavily lidded. Before the reveal of his true identity, his hair was dyed black. His most striking features are undoubtedly the patches of gnarled, wrinkled, purple skin that cover much of his lower face and neck, all the way down past his collarbone, below his eyes and on his arms and legs due to him having a quirk at a early age and not knowing how to control it. These appear to be attached to the rest of his skin by multiple, crude surgical staples or hoop piercings. He has several silver cartilage piercings in both ears, and a triple nostril piercing on the right side of his nose. He also seems to be lacking earlobes on both sides of his ears upon close inspection, he wears a dark blue jacket with a high, ripped collar, and matching pants, cut off above his ankles, a pair of dark dress shoes on his feet. He also has a plain pale gray, scoop-neck shirt, below which a gray belt with a circular pattern wraps around his waist, a leather satchel attached at the back.
Nobody knew his real name, until now, Dabi had revealed himself as Touya Todoroki. Everyone now calls him Touya but it never settled right in your gut to call him that. His name was Dabi to you and it will always be Dabi. It didn’t matter if he did a big entry and say that he is part of the Todoroki’s Dabi didn’t seem like them. The Todoroki’s where a strict family with ruled set in place. Endeavor, now the number one hero, had tried to welcome his family with more open arms. You could tell that Dabi’s opening was not out of grief for his family but instead out of spite. Like saying to Endeavor that he needs to take a chill pill with this whole anime redemption arc thing that he has going on for himself (and you didn’t quiet disagree with the oriole scarred man either).
You often thought of life like a anime, it was easier to explain. If somebodies life was broken they just ended up in the wrong anime. It also helped reminded you that every villain has a backstory. You never got to see their perspective in things. You never got to see what happened to the villains after they got defeated. Nope. You never got to see that, maybe if people saw the villain’s side. Everyone would hate the hero‘s and build their own path just as villains do. They make a path that no one has ever gone on, slowly making it a dirt road and them turning it again into an actual road that everyone can go on. Villains never got the roadwork. Hero’s probably always destroy it.
“So what’s the plan?” You leaned in close to Katsuki and whispered in his ear, Kastuki tensed up next to you and sucked in a breath before looking at you through pointy eyes.
”I will distract scar-man while you go and get Deku from the bar.” Kastuki explained, you nodded your head ‘yes’ before you pointing in the direction you where going to go. Kastuki grunted to himself as he crawled slowly in the opposite direction. Sending explosion at Dabi’s face before ducking behind a large wooden tool-box that had the words ”Back Bend Inc” on it in Ariel black font. Although it had been there for so long that the black ink looked to be a dark smoky gray. You quietly padded off into the opposite direction, your head ducked and eyes darting every five seconds to catch every detail around you.
Silently, you slipped into the bar. There was a wooden plank that held up the first stand, it looked to be pretty normal from here. There was dark wine stands that had a light brown color to them. The walls where colored with a sand tan. Over by the bar there was stacks and stacks of different liquor that people could have. Above was the general black chalkboard menu, there was smeared blue chalk that said “SPECIAL: Burbon” the strong smell of liquor and whisky hung in the air. There was a cigarette hanging off the ledge, still lit and everything. It looked pretty normal, but there was a slight piece of the cigarette where it was unwrapped and that told you enough to not say ’fuck it’ and have a smoke break. Turning your head slowly you walked up to Kurogiri. Information began flooding in your head about the villains and the bar. Unluckily for you everyone noticed the smartness you had and quickly found out your quirk. They began to flood your Brian with information. Information that a kid didn’t want to hear. You heard everything when you where just in High School. Now, everyone hated your quirk, everyone fucking hated it. The people who raised you said that you where a monster and that they didn’t know you anymore. But the sad part was you didnt do anything wrong. After hours of racking through your mind you couldn’t find a single moment where you did something bad. “I need to see Tomura.” You stared blankly at the mist villain. Kurogiri's entire body is made out of a dark purple mist, save for his eyes, which are glowing yellow. He normally wears a very elegant suit with a tie and has a metal brace that goes from around his collarbone to just below his eyes. It was pretty simple description of the villain, but there wasn’t much to him.
“Now?“ The male inquired, a hint of annoyance traced his smooth and calming voice. His voice sounded a lot like a gently sea softly rippling in the waves. But in actuality he was more like a thundering storm as the large ocean waves crashed harshly against large dark-gray-almost-black rocks.
“Yes, it is important.” You answered, putting a fake smile across your face. You still heard the faint sound of explosions from Katsuki and knew that you didn’t have a lot of time. Katsuki only could hold off for fifteen minutes before he went full on battle mood. And the villains would definitely think at something is up. Kurogiri hummed thoughtfully before nodding his head in agreement and holding out his purple misted hand.
”Come on dear…” The man whispered soothingly and smiling up and down at you.
“Thanks!” You chirped getting up and going behind the bar, following the villain down the stairs that creaked underneath your feet.
“BOSS!! Somebody wanted you!!” Kurogiri called, you took a deep breath before flinching as you looked into the villains base.
It was the same red bricks that seemed to be different colors every brick that was placed down to make the wall of the bar. There was smooth fake wood counter with clean royal red plush bar stools with the smallest backs on them. There was a few hero posters scattered around the base, one medium sized All Might poster hung to the right of a small screen TV. The dull gray light picketed on and off as the headlights didn’t provide much protection against the dark loom of everything. Different types of bottles hung on narrowed shelves behind the bar. Right next to the bar was a metal door, the window had cages around it and a long shiny knob that went down the left side. To the right of the door was a old faction radio station with LED lights surrounding it. It was currently playing Take Me to Church, apparently just starting to play it seeing how the introduction was still on. You narrowed your eyes before leaning against the red brick wall and giving everyone a swept gaze. All of the villains names that where forced to memorize came to your head all of a sudden.
Himiko Toga was standing in the farthest left, spinning in the red barstools.
Himiko is a relatively petite, fair-skinned girl who is very prone to blushing and is frequently described as to having a rather pretty face. She has slightly inward-tilting bright yellow eyes with thin slits, making them somewhat resemble those of a cat, and her wide mouth is also rather feline, as both her upper and lower canines are more pointed and longer than the rest of her teeth, giving her a vampire-like appearance. Her hair is a pale, dirty ash-blonde and is styled into two messy buns, with numerous wild strands sticking out at all angles from their centers and where they’re fastened, a straight fringe and two chin-length side bangs to frame her face. Himiko’s outfit consist of a plain seifuku with a Kansai collar, both the skirt and the shirt dark blue with a double white trim, which is paired with a red scarf that she ties loosely below. Over this, she wears an oversized beige cardigan with a rather long hem and cuffs, and pockets on either side, the right one shown to hold a number of trinkets on either a keychain or a cellphone strap. She sports knee-length black socks and dark brown dress shoes with thick heels, the same as the outdoor uniform shoes students traditionally wear in Japanese schools.
Tomura was standing next to Himiko, a bored expression clouding his features.
Tomura is a slim man with deathly pale skin, tinged yellow, and wrinkled a great deal around his eyes. His lips are chapped and uneven, a small mole on the right underneath, with visible scars on his right eye and under his lip. He has messy grayish-blue hair of varying lengths, the longest clumps reaching to about his shoulders, left hanging over his face in uneven waves. His eyes are normally obscured, but when visible, they are usually stretched wide in a rather maniacal manner, their bright red irises are very small.
Interestingly, when Tenko was at the age of five, he bore a striking resemblance to Izuku Midoriya, with his blue hair originally being dark black in color, while also having dried patches of skin around his eyes, though his lips were shown to be healthy in appearance. After his Quirk manifested, his appearance changed giving him a wrinkled face and changing his hair color.
Nobody else was in the base, the rest of the villains where busy surviving customers or dealing with Bakugou.
Then you saw him
Deku…
Deku has been a classmate of yours for a while, although you guy’s rarely talked to each other you always admired his strength and wisdom. Soon he became the number one hero and you became the second, Bakugou and Todoroki following closely behind. The only real reason you where able to make it to number two was due to the popularity votes for citizens. Everyone liked you, they loo up to you. So rationally you often teamed up with Deku. He was not good with the citizens since he never got a chance to talk to them due to the fact that he broke his bones in battle often but his quirk was amazing. And you didn’t have a lot of strength so that gave you time to connect with the citizens. The two of you working together helped everyone live a better place. Now seeing him tied up and helpless, it made you pretty angry.
“I would love to sit here and chat, but I got a hero to save!” You smirked as you raced on ahead and grabbed Deku, pulling him out of the chains before the villains had any time to react. Standing next to the hero you where slightly taller (mind you he hasn’t grown since high school so that wasn’t really anything to brag about being taller then him).
”HELLPPP!!!” A scream shouted from Kastuki, your eyes widened as you sprinted off to get the number three hero. Deku closely followed you as he got his quirk ready. But by the time that you rushed out you knew it was too late. Katsuki had been crushed by the blue flames that wrapped around his body.
“KACCHAN!!!” Deku screamed, DabI whipped his head around and started at the number one hero.
”You idiot!“ You hissed as you grabbed Deku’s arm and made a run for it. Dragging him out into the open where a bunch of other hero’s where’s standing just in case something happened. You noticed that they where busy on their phones and probably didn’t even hear Katsuki screaming for help. You rushed Deku to the side of the red brick building and waited for a ambulance to come pick Deku up. Once they carried him away you narrowed your eyes at the pro-hero’s.
”I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD I AM GOING TO KILL YOU AND YOUR FAMILY IF YOU ACT LIKE THAT AGAUN!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH STRESS YOU PUT US THROUGH??? DYNAMIGHT COULD HAVE STILL BEEN ALIVE IF YOU HAVEN’T SAT ON YOUR ASS ALL DAY AND ACT LIKE A BUNCH OF FUCKING SLUTS!! I SWEAR TO GOD I AM GOING TO RIP ALL OF YOUR HEADS OFF, FEED THEM TO MY DOG, MAKE MY DOG SHIT OFF A BRIDGE AND SEE THE SHIT SMEERED ON THE TIRE, GET A LIGHTER AND BURN THE CAR DOWN, TAKE THE ASHES AND PUT THEM IN A GROUND, I WILL TAKE THE GROUND WHERE THE ASH IS AND MAKE IT A STRIPER CLUB, AND THEN GET A EXORCIST TO PUT YOU TO HELL!!!” You started cussing them off, the pro-hero’s shuffled uncomfortably and looked at each other with weird stares. They knew that they where in shit when they pissed you off. You weren’t very easy to piss off so when somebody pissed you off they knew they were in deep horse shit.
*** You rushed into the hospital bed where Deku was at. Your breath coming out in short puffs as you stood on the edge of the male’s bed and watched as thick tears streamed down his face. You grew soft and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“Calm down baby…I am here…” You reassured, slowly climbing on the bed and getting on him. Deku gulped thickly at the closed distance between the two of you and began sweating nervously.
“Y/n!“ You yelped, trying to scoot back. You looked up at him and gave the male a cocky smile.
“What? Are you suggesting something?” You leaned in and whispered in Deku‘s ears. Deku whined before nodding his head ‘yes‘ you rolled your eyes and began to unbutton your shirt. Popping out a few buttons in the process. Gently, you pulled down your panties and threw them to the side, lifting up your skirt and showing your ass to Deku. Deku trembled slightly and started licking at the entrance, slowly, he began eating you out. You moaned quietly before bucking Your hips backwards. Deku gasped before moaning also and continuing to do his work. Once Deku are you out for a few minutes you pulled away and Deku looked at you with large puppy dogs eyes. His Greek emerald eyes blown wide in lust.
You leaned down and took off his pants with your teeth, dragging your nails up his clothed hero uniform shirt. Deku bucked his hips up and whimpered. You smirked into the material. Once you actually got the pants down you slipped off his boxers and starting to get settled on Deku.
You and Deku had this off and on thing. You guy’s weren’t dating each other and fucked other people but it was always a delight when you got to fuck him. A smile always formed on his lips when you topped him. He always thought that everyone was going to leave him to be the top, so it was reassuring when he saw that somebody cared about him enough to dom him and show him who is in control.
You where snapped back into reality when Deku gasped in shock as you took him all in, groaning slightly at the fact that you took him with such ease because he has been in you so much. Slowly you waited for yourself to adjust (which didn’t take that long) before you started bouncing up and down. Deku threw his head back and moaned loudly as felt your walls clench around him. You kept bouncing on him up and down in a rhyme pattern.
“Come on baby, thought you liked it…” You pouted, looking down on the green haired hero and smiling cockily.
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Not You (one-shot)
Synopsis: Bucky has loved the Reader for three years. She has loved him for two. Both are dumbasses, and Sam is fed up.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader
Genre: fluff, angst, SMUT
Warnings: SMUT (unprotected sex (wrap it up, before doing the devil’s tango), swearing, filth, but like cute and fluffy filth. Filth with emosh.
Word count: 5172
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   “What is this?”
   That was not how Bucky Barnes thought his night would go. After leaving the gala where Pepper announced the Black Widow foundation, the ex-Winter Soldier said 'thank you' to his date, walked her home and slowly strolled back to the apartment he shared with Sam. Once he got there, he took off the suit and the tie that had been choking him the whole evening, grabbed a hot shower and plopped down into his bed.
   He was surrounded by mountains of pillows and the softest mattress and bedding he’d ever had. After everything he’d been put through, Bucky appreciated soft things. That’s why he loved Y/N so much.
   She was the softest being in the universe, figuratively and literally. The first time they’d met and shook hands (he deliberately stuck out his flesh one, not wanting her to touch the silver-and-red-starred monstrosity), his eyes had widened in disbelief at how soft her skin had been. The handshake lingered a bit longer than needed for a first-time meeting, not to mention how he’d run his thumb over the top of her hand repeatedly.
   “You know, I’m gonna need that back at some point,” Y/N teased him, a mischievous glint sparking up her Y/E/C eyes.
   Bucky’d muttered a quick apology, but she dismissed him. “If you need a longer hug as well, just let me know.”
   And he had. Whenever he’d had a bad day, especially after missions, he’d come to the tower and plop down onto the couch. No matter what she’d be doing, around five to twenty minutes later, Y/N would appear with two hot chocolates in hand. Instantly, Bucky would curl himself against her as her fingers would card through his brown locks, making him feel safe and warm.
   That’s how he had fallen asleep that night - with the gentle thought of Y/N lying next to him and humming a quiet tune. It’s why he was more than surprised to find her banging against his door, fury, hurt and confusion written all over her face.
   “What is this?” she repeated again, pushing a piece of paper towards him.
   Fuck, how he wished he hadn’t cut his hair just so it could obscure the utter horror that exploded on his features when he saw the words on the page.
   He shook his head. “I – I didn’t write that.”
   “Bullshit, Barnes!” Y/N hissed, elbowing her way inside the apartment. “I recognize your handwriting because it’s the exact same handwriting I see every day as I rewrite your reports.”
   Bucky’s eyebrow shot up. Y/N shrugged. “Your grammar is horrific, and Fury would throw out any report that even mildly looked like yours do. But that’s besides the point. What the fuck is this?” She didn’t give him time to respond though. “You – you can’t just do that! You can’t leave me confessions like these after what you’ve done.”
   “What did I do?”
   Y/N scoffed and glared at him, hands on her hips. “You brought someone else to the gala. You took someone else as your date. Not to mention your Friday ‘love-nights’. How do you expect me to believe this shit when every weekend you spend it with someone else?”
   “You weren’t meant to see that,” he whispered so low she couldn’t hear it.
   “Pardon?”
   Bucky let out a shaky breath. “You weren’t meant to see that. Ever.”
   That made her take an involuntary step back, and Bucky raked a hand through his hair. Only then did Y/N fully see he was just in his boxers and had to swallow hard.
   “It was Sam’s dumb idea.”
   “What was?” she asked, voice low and trembling.
   “To write that letter. He told me to write down how I felt because I couldn’t deal with it anymore,” his blue eyes snapped up to hers, and it was like all the air was punched out of her because of the intensity in them. “Do you know how hard it is for me to see you every day without kissing you? How much self-control I need to have, not to just lean up and press my lips to yours when you so easily hold me? It’s like what I’ve done doesn’t matter to you!”
   “Because it doesn’t!” Y/N’s tone matched his. It was the only thing she could say, as processing the previous statements turned out not to be that easy.
   Bucky let out a frustrated snort. “Yeah, I know. That’s why it’s practically impossible for me to be around you. You just – you just accept me for who I am, and you love me the way I am… broken bits and all…”
   Her vision had gotten watery, and it was only when Bucky stepped forward and wiped away a stray tear did Y/N realize she was crying. “You’re not broken,” she choked out and shook her head.
   “No,” he agreed. “Not to you. For whatever reason, by some kind of a miracle, you see me just as a man… like I’m normal… and that’s why I fell in love with you.”
   “Why didn’t you say anything?”
   Bucky lifted his shoulders and dropped them. “How could I when I knew you deserved better? Deserve better. If things had gone the way I wanted them to, you’d never have known how I felt. You would have fallen in love with someone kind and smart, and they would treat you like you deserve to be treated. And I’d stand by and watch.”
   Y/N closed her eyes and stepped out of his embrace. “Why? Just… why?”
   “Because this can cost me you. And I’m a selfish asshole… losing you is not something I can handle.”
   “So – so all those other women,” she pointed to the door as if there was a hoard of people outside, “so you just use them to forget about me?”
   Bucky shook his head. There was no point in lying anymore. All the cards were already on the table. “No. Every time I go out with someone, I genuinely hope that there will be a spark. I truly, honestly hope that maybe I’ll fall for one of them… But I don’t… because they’re not you.”
 “No,” Y/N stammered, shaking her head. “They’re not me… because I’m… me…” Her eyebrows were furrowed as she pointed a finger at herself and looked to the ground. At this point, she was unsure if she was herself because Bucky being in love with her didn’t make any sense.
   It didn’t make sense that he had taken Sam’s advice, it didn’t make sense that he had written out his love confession, and it didn’t make sense that he was so openly admitting that every single word on that page was true.
   This was not how Y/N thought her night would go. After seeing Bucky enter the hall with a gorgeous date by his side, she instantly rushed to the bar and ordered herself a drink. As she sipped on it, she was glad she had her own date with her. Matt Murdock. They’d been friends ever since law school, and she was very much so aware of his nightly activities. It was more so a business arrangement, that evening that is. He was on a trail of a dirty businessman, and she needed his legal counsel after some questionable actions had been done by a rogue SHIELD agent.
   “Drowning your feelings?” her friend’s gruff voice sparked up next to her. Y/N looked to her right and saw Matt remove his glasses. She smiled. She was one of the few people he did that around. It made her feel trustworthy.
   “Something like that.”
   Matt chuckled and motioned with a finger towards the bartender. “Does that have anything to do with Bucky who just walked in?”
   “Do you ever mind your own business?” Y/N snorted, taking the legs of Matt’s glasses and playing with them.
   “I’m a lawyer. It’s my business to be all up in other people’s business.”
   “Yeah, but I didn’t invite you here as my lawyer,” she said, chugging down the rest of her drink.
   Matt gave her a crooked smile. “Well, with you… and certain other people, I’m all up in your business... as a friend.”
   “Well then, friend, how about you get me another drink, and I can tell you all about my sob story?”
   They chatted for a good hour and a half, and Matt did everything in his power to take Y/N’s attention away any time Bucky so much as stepped in her direction. Somewhere along the line, they had ventured on the topic of Matt’s own love-life, and by that point, Pepper had made the official announcement of the Black Widow Foundation as well as the Tony Stark Trust fund.
   Champagne flew, laughter and cheers echoed all around, but Y/N wasn’t feeling it anymore. Not after seeing Bucky lean down to his date and press a kiss to her cheek, as she, with a smile on her face, took his hand and together they made their way out of the hall.
 After that, Matt had called a taxi and together they’d gone to his office, grabbed some files and made their way to his home. Y/N paid the fare and stepped out onto the freezing streets of Hell’s Kitchen. She couldn’t help the smile that lifted her lips at the irony.
   Matt motioned with the papers to the apartment behind him. “Wanna come up? I have some beer, and we can talk a bit more… or go through the case if you need to think about something else.”
   “I think I’ll just walk back,” Y/N waved him off and rocked back and forth on her feet.
   “Are you sure?” there was concern in Matt’s voice. “I don’t mind you staying over. I can give you some spare clothes.” But Y/N was already shaking her head. She knew Matt couldn’t see it, but he definitely heard how her hair swished in the wind with the motion.
   “I need to clear my head,” and she started to walk away but not before turning around and saying, “besides, I have the Devil looking over me.”
   Not that she needed it. Working with the Avengers in any capacity made sure you knew hand-to-hand, let alone being a Level Nine SHIELD agent. But it was nice knowing she had someone looking out for her. It was nice knowing Y/N had someone who cared.
   Snow had started to fall in heavy flakes, and a gust of wind pulled up her coat. Instantly she regretted her decision of walking back to the tower. With a grumble, she stashed her hands into the pockets, and that’s when something crunched there.
   In the middle of the road, she stopped and pulled out what turned out to be Bucky’s confession. It only took her twenty minutes to get to his apartment. And that’s what had led them to that moment.
   Bucky tilted his head trying to read Y/N’s expression but without any luck. Guess seventy years of being a spy went out the window the second he was faced with the woman he loved.
   “What’s going on through that pretty head of yours?” he whispered tucking a piece of hair that had gotten stuck to her lip back behind her ear. The snow that had been stuck in her hair when she’d first barged in had now melted, leaving the Y/H/C strands with translucent pearls atop them.
   Y/N shook her head. “That we’re the biggest idiots the world has ever seen.”
   There was no time to process what she had said because, in that same moment, her arms had wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders and pulled him down for their lips to meet. He was glad she was strong enough to carry a man (and his emotional baggage) because he quite literally sagged down, tongue swiping against her mouth to ask for entrance.
   In his head, Bucky thought she’d easily give in, but the smirk that pulled her lips up in a smile, made him groan in frustration.
   “Baby come on,” he said, kissing her again and again. “Please.”
   Y/N just chuckled. “Gotta make you work for –“
   He took his chance. Right in the middle of her sentence, he slotted his tongue between her parted lips, and now she was the one whose knees wobbled.
   “Take me to your bed,” she gasped once Bucky was satisfied with how far he'd gotten to explore her. “Please.” But then another thought entered her mind. “Unless you already have someone in it.”
   “God, no,” Bucky laughed, slipping off her winter coat and leaving it on the floor, exposing the exquisite sight that was hiding underneath. “That place is reserved just for you.”
   “Yeah?” Y/N’s nose nudged against his, and he nudged right back.
   “Yeah.”
   Both of them were breathless by the time Bucky’s bedroom door swung open. One, it was from all of the kissing, two, because neither had really seen the walls in the hallway and had slammed one another against them.
   “Make love to me,” Y/N breathed against his mouth, tugging Bucky’s bottom lip between her teeth.
   “What?”
   “Tomorrow you can fuck my brains out… but I want you to make love to me tonight. Show me that everything in that letter is true.”
   It didn’t take more than that for Y/N to convince Bucky. Almost viciously, he gripped the covers of his bed and threw them onto the ground. His hands didn’t leave her body for a single second. Every night there had been a goodbye, one last touch of the day before both of them went their separate ways. There had always been one last hug. Not this time.
   Bucky sank down onto the floor, on his knees in front of Y/N like in a prayer, one hand on the back of her thigh, the other trailing lower and lower until he reached the end of the evening gown.
   She was still wearing her heels. He could feel how cold her toes had gotten after that walk, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to leave the golden stilettos on, but this wasn’t about him. It was about both of them. So, he quickly unclasped them and held out a hand which Y/N graciously took as she stepped onto the cold hardwood floor.
   When she had first walked inside that room where the gala was being held, Bucky thought his lungs had stopped working. Y/N was breathtaking. All dolled up to the nines, with the sheer black dress and the golden sparkle that strategically covered her up, he no longer remembered how to breathe. There was even a cape that transformed from black into the golden shimmer like the evening sky, and he could only think – what if the black was white?
   Bucky took great care in removing Y/N’s dress. He took his time marking her skin with his lips, leaving himself and her little reminders for tomorrow… or that morning, as the clock on his nightstand showed it was 3:13 AM already.
   Had he been wearing his suit, Y/N would’ve been mimicking his moves and undressing Bucky, but he was already almost naked, so she just allowed her palms to explore the scarred skin.
   He was all dips and ridges, with some of the raised skin more sensitive than other places, especially where his metal arm met his shoulder. This was the newer one, the one from Wakanda. There was no star or silver. It was all black and gold, much like the dress that now was in a heap around her body, and much like the underwear still left on her form, to which Bucky had to use all of his willpower not to rip it off.
   A shudder ran down his spine when Y/N leaned away from where he’d been assaulting her neck and pressed her own lips against his left shoulder. Shuri and the rest of the doctors had taken great care of the ruined tissue, and it no longer looked angry and red, rather a pale gleam against the rest of his flushed skin.
   For the first time in a while, Bucky allowed himself to enjoy what was happening. There was that stupid, annoying voice in the back of his head, the one that had told him he wasn’t good enough for Y/N, but he put it in a little jail cell and threw the key away because he’d be damned if he didn’t allow himself to fully experience what paradise was like.
   He hadn’t even noticed how Y/N’s hand had travelled all the way down from his collarbones to his chest, down his abs and to the front of his boxers, too focused on the gentle way her lips marked him.
   “Shit, fuck, baby,” Bucky hissed as her palm had slipped behind the one piece of clothing on his body and grasped him at the base.
   He was hard, painfully so, but the slow and rhythmic twisting of Y/N’s hand alleviated the built-up tension. She swiped her thumb over the tip of his cock, and he moaned.
   “Keep going like that, and I won’t be able to deliver.”
   Instantly Y/N pulled away, and instantly he missed her touch. “Really?” she smirked. “I thought the super-soldier serum enhanced everything. Stamina included,” she had leaned back up and tugged at Bucky’s earlobe. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you are a hundred-years-old grampa.”
   Hands roughened by war and hurt oh so tenderly slid up Y/N’s waist to her back and unclasped her bra. She sighed in relief as the material was flung away somewhere into the depths of the room.
   Bucky’s fingers skimmed over the marks the offensive piece of clothing had left all around Y/N’s ribs before he leant in and closed his mouth around one of her nipples.
   “Hundred or not, I wanna make this last,” a sloppy ‘pop’ noise made her gasp as his lips travelled back to her neck. “And I ain’t cumming until you do. At least three times.”
   He guided her backwards, careful not to get tangled in the dress. The back of Y/N’s knees hit the edge, and slowly she crawled up the soft mattress, not once letting Bucky’s lips disappear from hers.
   He hovered above her, and for a while they just made out, letting their hands roam over their bodies and release any stress or anxiety that was still hiding in their muscles. At some point, both of them had lost the last bits of underwear and knowing that nothing separated the two made a set of butterflies fly around in Y/N’s stomach while they frantically trashed in Bucky’s.
   He was keeping himself in check, his cock resting heavily against the inside of her thigh. He was so close, so close to being whole, but safety came first.
   “Condom,” Bucky announced, ready to climb off of Y/N, but she was quicker. In a flash, she was on top, straddling him and grinding against his hard-on.
   “ ‘M on the pill, need you now.”
   Bucky had to bite on his lip to the point that the tangy taste of iron invaded his mouth not to let the pornographic moan into the open at the feel of just how dripping Y/N was.
   “We can stop,” he shakily stated. “Any moment you feel uncomfortable, we can stop. I promise I won’t be offended.”
   Y/N’s heart clenched at the thoughtfulness, but she was eager and impatient and wet beyond belief, so with a roll of her eyes and without a warning, she rutted her hips a bit more backwards and let the tip of him slip into her.
   That shut Bucky up real quick, as inch by inch Y/N engulfed him in her warmth. The pleasure was the kind that consumes everything, leaving only heavy breathing and rattling hearts behind.
   She collapsed against Bucky’s chest once he was buried to the hilt, and he was quick to wrap his arms around her, letting her adjust and calm down a bit.
   “I want you,” Y/N murmured against Bucky’s collarbones, giving them a quick peck. “All of you… I’m kinda in love with you. Just as a side note.”
   Bucky was ready to fall back into his sappy speech, but once again Y/N took all the words right out from his mouth with just a simple swivel of her hips.
   “Fucking love that side note,” he helped her raise herself up and held the palms that rested on his stomach. “And you, of course.”
   Y/N let out a chocked back laugh before looking down at Bucky. It was like he had gone into his own little world as his blue, well now almost completely black eyes, scanned every inch of her body, only stopping when their gazes met.
   She reached out, thumb gently stroking his cheekbone. “You okay?”
   “Yeah,” he nodded and kissed the inside of her palm. “I’m perfect.”
   She kept eye contact with Bucky the whole way as her other hand trailed down his metal bicep and intertwined with the appendage. “Yeah, you are.” And slowly she lifted her hips up and sank down.
   The first time Bucky made her cum, he watched her. He memorized every single facial feature, and how beautifully Y/N’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp, her Y/E/C eyes never leaving his. He ingrained it in his brain - the way her chest stuttered while drawing in a breath, and how her whole body shuddered with pleasure. He just had to see it.
   The second time Bucky made her cum, he listened to her. He flipped her over and settled himself on top, hiding his face in the crook of Y/N’s neck. He listened to her laboured breathing, her thumping and erratic heart and the sweet, sweet way she whimpered his name. He listened to the obscene noises that exploded into the air every time his hips met hers and how her body moved against his sheets with every single move they made. But the symphony came to a crescendo when he finally heard her choke on a breath as extasy took her over.
   The third time he was going to make her cum, he wanted to feel her.
   “Turn around, doll face,” he muttered, taking in a shaky breath and kissing her neck.
   “But Bucky,” she whispered, tightening her grip around his shoulders, digging her nails in his skin in defiance to his wishes, “I wanna see you. You didn’t cum, and I wanna see.”
   A fluttering in his heart made the biggest fucking smile appear on his lips. Just the thought that she wanted to see him happy and in pleasure, made the super-soldier want to giggle like a schoolgirl. “And you will, I promise. I just wanna feel ya.”
   Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’d say you’re feeling me more than anyone right now.” In retaliation for that comment, she squeezed her already sensitive walls around his cock making both of them let out a moan.
   “No,” he groaned out, “just, please. Just wanna feel. Besides, I need a new canvas to leave my masterpieces on.”
   Hungry eyes trailed over her chest and neck and even her stomach and hips which were all littered in hickies. It was this realization that gave him a moment of opportunity to pull out and gently flip Y/N onto her stomach. She was already half-spent so rising on her elbows and knees was a task, but Bucky didn’t need her to do that.
   “Shh, lie down, baby,” he muttered, his chest pressed tightly to her back. Y/N didn’t argue. Her stomach was met with two soft, cloud-like pillows which Bucky had somehow managed to push underneath her. They lifted her hips up just enough, put them in the perfect angle for him to comfortably slide in without breaking Y/N’s spine in half.
   Her hands fisted the sheets above her head as Bucky filled her once more, and now she understood what he’d meant by just feeling her. She couldn’t see him anymore, and his breath was obscured by where he’d hidden his nose in her hair. Only Bucky, only his gentle hands sliding down her biceps until they curled around her wrists and intertwined with her fingers, and only the steady thrum of his heart existed. No hug could ever make Y/N feel safer than she did at that moment. No kiss would ever make her soak up his existence more than that position. Nothing in the world could ever make her feel him closer than that single position. 
   All of Bucky's focus was on now was how Y/N felt underneath him. Her hot, sweat-slicked skin, how her back rose and fell, and the way she moved her hips in a desperate attempt to meet his. Bucky closed his eyes and tuned in all of his senses on how she felt wrapped around him, so tight and snug around every ridge and vein… so perfect…
   And all Y/N could focus on was Bucky. How his giant frame enveloped hers in a secure embrace, how his hands tightened around hers, and the way his chest heaved at every thrust, Bucky’s heart stuttering with every push. That little bubble was filled up even more when he leaned completely on top of her, careful to hold off his weight by placing most of it on his forearms and kissed her, swallowing all of her praises.
   “Fuck, I’m so close,” he moaned and captured her lips in another kiss. He was just about to let himself be taken over by absolute bliss, not before getting her off first, when Y/N spoke up.
   “Stop, Bucky, stop.”
   Instantly terror flooded his veins, and he pushed away. He was sacred he had hurt her, had done something she didn’t like, or that suddenly, in the middle of everything, she regretted him and would dash out of his apartment and life.
   “Do you hear that?”
   His forehead scrunched up. The only thing Bucky could hear was his own heartbeat in his ears and Y/N’s labored breathing. But then he focused and did. A soft scraping somewhere in the apartment had interrupted them.
   Her head turned fully to the side. “You said Sam’s away on a mission.”
   “He is,” Bucky nodded right as someone unlocked the door. Instantly, he was off of Y/N and out of the bed, grabbing his discarded boxers. “Stay here.”
   She hissed his name, right as he grabbed a gun from the bedside drawer and exited into the hallway. With a roll of her eyes, she wrapped the sheet tightly around herself and picked up one of the stilettos, pulling out a thin vibranuim needle from one of the heels. She never went anywhere without a weapon.
   Y/N was half-way towards the living room when two voices talking back and forth, made her slow done her pace. One of them was clearly the gruff tone of Bucky flinging off the walls, the other was a bit smoother, but still just as deep.
   “Sam?”
   Almost like in a daze, half-smile on his lips he waved back at Y/N, Bucky swishing around as well. “Hi.”
   “Weren’t you supposed to be on a mission?” she asked, careful of the way the sheet stayed wrapped around her body. Knowing it wasn’t an intruder, she dropped her blade onto the countertop and crossed her arms.
   Sam nodded. “Yeah, but there was some new info that needed to be processed before they sent us out. So, I’m leaving tomorrow evening instead. Wanted to get one more good sleep in before spending my nights in a Siberian forest for a month.”
   A beat passed before Sam grinned like the Cheshire cat, motioning with a finger between the two and their undressed state. “Am I right in what I’m thinking?”
   “Dunno,” Bucky growled, crossing his arms over his chest. “If it’s about how you’re close to losing some teeth, then very much so.”
   But the Captain-ex-Falcon disregarded his dig.
   “Fucking finally!” Sam hollered, fist-bumping the air. “God, it’s taken you two ages! This calls for a celebration!” He was halfway to the fridge when Y/N cleared her throat.
   Bucky put both hands on his hips. “Yeah well, can we do it later? We were in the middle of something. And, ya know, neither of us got to finish.”
   “You know what, it’s fine,” Y/N waved both of them off with a tight-lipped smile. “The mood’s kinda ruined. I think Imma just grab a shower and get a cab. We can finish this at some other time.”
   That was the wrong thing to say as Sam rushed afterwards Y/N and pulled her by the bicep towards Bucky practically shoving her into his chest.
   “No, no, no, no, no! The mood is not ruined!” Sam pointed at Y/N. “I’ve had to listen to him groan about being in love with you for the past three years, and when it finally happens…” he huffed. “I’m not going to listen to another thirty years of his dumbass complaining… now go in there and finish what you started.” He gestured towards Bucky’s bedroom. “I did not go through all that trouble with that stupid note just for this whole thing to fall apart. I’ll be out of your hair in a second.”
   “It was you?” Bucky exclaimed holding onto Y/N’s waist. 
   If Sam was the least bit ashamed of going through his personal things he didn’t show. “Don’t leave your love letters lying around the house… besides, she’s been in love with you for two years. It’s not my fault you’re two dumbasses. Someone had to make the first move.”
   Bucky scoffed. “I would have!”
   “Really?” Both Y/N and Sam looked at the brunet with raised eyebrows. 
   Bucky blushed a bit and tightened his hand on Y/N's waist. “Yeah… eventually.”
   Sam snorted and gave him a ‘sure you would’ve’ kind of a look before grabbing his keys from the counter. “I’ll be staying at the tower. Use protection, kids!”
   The door slammed shut right as Y/N and Bucky both scoffed and shook their heads. She was still staring where Sam had disappeared thinking about when the hell did he manage to slip the note in her coat when she felt the strong gaze of two blue eyes watching her.
   “Yes?” Y/N cocked her head to the side.
   Bucky shrugged. “I’m still up for it. I promised three orgasms, didn’t I?”
   “That you did, but tell you what,” she trailed a hand up his chest, Bucky instinctively wrapping his hands around her. “First we order pizza, and then we finish what we started. You kinda made me hungry.”
   For a moment, Bucky contemplated Y/N’s proposal, but he wasn’t going to disagree. As she went to plop down onto the couch, he went after his phone and placed the order; he didn't even need to ask what she wanted, knowing her choice by heart.
   “Done,” his heavy frame made the sofa dip, and Y/N was just about to cuddle in his side when he pushed her back and slotted himself between her legs, the sheet unceremoniously falling to the ground revealing her naked form. “But I’m having dessert first.”
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A/N: mY BUCKY TAGS ARE NOT WORKING :(((((( TUMBLR!!!! WHAT THE FUCk!!
does anyone know how to fix that???
P.S. what did ya think? my tags are always open
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ALL-STARS -STORY MODE- CHAPTER 19
Heya everyone!
Sorry for the absence of chapters, there are things good and bad in my life but that is not important right now.
The OC belongs to @mortal-kombattore-115
I like to thank @this-person-is-slowly-dying and her friend, AlphaKing and @sampoststuff for providing me artwork for this so give them credit guys. ^^
That being said, enjoy reading the chapter you are waiting for while I work on the 20th chapter.
-Chapter 19-
-Back to the All-Stars Group…-
“So there will be a great conflict in the future, eh?” Bruno had asked this while he fed the fire with the wood leftover after others had barricaded the house. “To hell and back it will be to your dimension eventually.” Dempsey said as he helped a captive Helghast making a grate to hang the skinned bear over the fire.
“Still, too much hell for what the Germans had done to us.”
“Can you explain what had happened in that war?” as the large Frenchman helps out Heavy with the creature over to the fire to tie it on a grate.
“To make a long ass story short,” Dempsey apperaded, as he and the Helghast managed to get the grate made from scrapped metal and pipes from the shed with the help of Ratchet who set it in the ground with rocks. “Blame the Germans.” with Ultimis Richtofen giving him a glare from the background with Primis Jin shaking her head.
Demoman walked over with a knife from a kitchen as the smell of sizzling meat and hearing bubbles erupting from the flames crisping on the skinned bear creature. Soldier had to pull the Scottish man back and whispered “You think you can prepare dinner for us?” with a little concern for him. “I mean, Engie and Pyro can cook good meals…”
“I can cook, Jane, I have cooked a lot of food for me ma, remember?” Tavlish smiled with his one good brown eye, looked at it, and the Soldier patted his back and said “Just remember to put spice on each piece if someone wants one.” and Demo nodded.
The meat was grilled by the fire on a grate, was curved and cut onto a plate and served to the people around the bonfire. Spice and salt was provided to several others who wanted it and they ate it with ease.
Some laughed and made jokes, others were keeping watch for any familiar or the unfamiliar threats as Demoman looked a little proud of himself, an friendly atmosphere with little laughter and he thought “All of this needs to have a piano music.” rather joking in his head with a chuckle.
Door opened slightly from beyond the group and they jumped a little as Bruno looked at the door better than anyone and said “Erron is awake.”
Frisk had led the patched up Erron to the bonfire and had him rested at a spot with Mugman looking at them, “Thanks, kiddo.” Erron muttered under his breath as Cuphead looked at Erron and said “Amazing that you had survived that-”
“A Panzer Soldat,” Erron interrupted, “That’s what I learned from an ugly ass octo-” he noticed Jin finally who was looking at him with an eyebrow, “...pus, hello.” he greeted, he seemingly… looked similar to a marine in the group but Jin simply shrugged it off as she then introduced herself “My name is Jin Huang, you’re Erron, if I am correct.”
“Erron Black, Jin.” Erron confirmed, holding his newly bandaged side, “I see you’re here in a tournament too?”
This confused everyone around him as Primis Dempsey asked “What tournament? What’s it about?”
“To think you would know about it by now,” Erron begins to explain, “from where I am from, there was a battle-to-the-death tournament event known as Mortal Kombat. The winner will be the last one standing to decide the fate of the earth realm. But in order to win, is to off the other.``
Others were confused but Frisk looked fairly worried and Primis Dempsey figured it out what it meant as he said “Do we have to…” to Erron who is dead serious about this.
“Yep.” he responded, as Jin was perplexed with a thought of the tournament, “Mortal Kombat…” as Erron looked at her with little interest. “I had heard from Frisk that you are a damned good fighter, right? In the earth- In my universe, we had those there in the other realm. But they are not the only ones, there are tough-ass fighters out there as well and I won’t be surprised that we are meeting one of them from the realms I belong to.”
“I am not but I have been taught to defend myself.” Jin said as she looked at him, “Yet, I can’t die without a fight if it does happen.”
“Oi reckon that and the reason our own had been kidnapped.” Sniper added with a nod, “Yet, so far, it worked for a while so far?”
“Fighting a giant flower, then extraterrisory soldiers, our teammates taken to another world and now this.” P!Dempsey recounted the events from before, “So that could be the theory for this shitshow happening.”
“Could be…” Radec had remained silent until this point, “A strange entity had somewhat cause us to be here, our leader had sent us here to investigate the power and to harness it-”
“Before the shitshow hits the fan with war following suit!” Soldier jabbed, pointing a finger at him as if he was the only one who has authority over their captives. “You pushed first and we pushed back!”
“Stand down, son.” Dempsey said loudly as the Soldier looked at him, grumbling something under his breath as he sat down. “Yet,” Erron broke the ice as he looked at him, “You guys are going to leave me to die here once you guys leave.” in an accusatory tone. Radec nodded and said “But it all went wrong and no hope of leaving this planet as the carrier was destroyed, we are all trapped here together all thanks to you.” as Everyone looked at him until Mugman piped up.
“Not entirely.” he said, Cuphead and Frisk looked at him and said “What do you mean, Mugs?” with an eyebrow.
“Rachet, Clank.” he called to them, “You had said you two came here by a ship of your own, right?”
“Of course, we did but why did you ask?” Clank asked as Ratchet simply tilted his head to this. “You must have a radio on it, you can contact anyone far away from here, does it still work?”
“It does,” Ratchet answered as he simply shrugged but had a disappointed look on his face, “But the galaxy we are from is too far away from here, this is a Milky Way Galaxy afterall, there's a bunch of other galaxies in the universe.” as he stretched his arms.
“Or the next,” Clank added as he stood up and then chuckled when Ratchet turned to glare at him, “Mr. Masaki and Erron had said that this realm is what we are currently living in right now.” he further explained. “As for our ship, we can overlook the city, be your eyes and ears for any zombie coming your way.” Ratchet offered as Clank sat back on three bricks stacked on top of another.
“I agree with the strange talking cat lion alien,” Ultimis Nikolai interjected with a little sober voice even as it was slurred, “On the bright side, they can find Nikolai more vodka in this sh!t hole!” He raised the bottle and then drank it as the scarf Mugman was holding to patch the crack glowed cyan softly as he looked at him before looking away.
*You had no idea why this scarf was connected to Ultimis Nikolai…
A text hangs below his head as he looked at it before he looked at Frisk, who patted his shoulder in comfort. The look they had as if they knew whatever the newer text will explain, they would tell them about it.
Demoman yawned as he looked up the nighttime skies, the stars could hardly be seen because of the city’s lights but in this one, electricity that powered the city was all but gone after something had happened to it and the beauty of the stars and dust sparkled and smudged to regin the skies once more.
The moon is glowing softly with a few stars around it, a night silver ring of rainbow around it as the nearly glassy clouds covering it. “Demo?” Scout asked as he looked at him who got up and said “We should all get sleep, we can talk more in the morning, Lads.”
“I will take the first shift, then Bendy soon Richtofen.” Bruno had stated as he raised the hammer and placed onto his shoulder, resting it in place. “That’s a good idea,” Bendy walked with him to the captive Helghasts, “in case they had any funny ideas.”
“Oh ja,” Ultimis Richtofen said this with rather a sinister venom as he looked at the Helshasts with a wicked smile, “I vill gut zhem if zhey tried to escape.”
As the moon slowly sails in the clouded skies, everyone has made the parts of the backyard and the house itself as their spots for them to live temporarily. Half of them had set up tents in the backyard while U!Richtofen already had the shed to call his ‘cottage’ of his own.
Rest are resting in each rooms of the house 1145, Ratchet and Clank has the couch, Erron and Scout has the room with a bunk bed at the end of the hall in the upstairs, corporal had the master bedroom, Frisk had the side room with two bunk beds as it seemingly possible and sharing it with Cuphead and Mugman and lastly, the rest of the RED Team had the downstairs family room with one room but not the rest of them at the least, Sniper is at on the roof with a lantern on watch duty.
“Do you think that we have to fight each other?” It was Mugman who asked Jin that with a worried look on his face while Jin helped him onto the top bunk, with a blanket he had caught and wrapped himself with.
“Erron had said that as a theory, we don’t know about it yet.” Jin said as she adjusted the blanket he had and tried to be careful not to press the cracks and make them worse. “We need to know the reasons why we are here for a tournament.”
“And if it was the way to-”
“Mugman,” Jin had insisted, looking at him as she had a bit of a parental tone in her voice. “I will not let it happen if it is the only way, I promise you that I will protect you.”
“Really?”
“Do I ever lie to you? I am a fighter afterall.” she softly smiled as she lifted his chin up to face her, “Please get some sleep, Mugman, tomorrow will be better.”
Mugman slightly nodded and then laid down to get comfortable as Jin exited the room to find something to lay down to rest when she noticed something from the master bedroom that caught her eye before she could.
It was Primis Dempsey, he wasn’t wearing his coat and the boiler as they rested on a folding table close to him, sitting on a chair and holding a colt revolver in his hand as he stared at it. He looked at the window and then he rested his forehead on the cylinder and the rear sight with his eyes closed.
Something about this scene had her worried for the marine. She watched him raise his head back up to the window and he appeared to notice something on the window. Then he looked at the doorway, raised an eyebrow at the fortune sight before him.
“Jin? What are you doing over there?”
“I…” She said shyly as she walked in, “I wanted to make sure that you are alright, Dempsey.” she excused as she made her way to the dirty yet faintly clean mattress with a few blankets on it. He sighed as he walked over to the bed to sit down beside him.
“Thanks for doing that,” he said as he looked at the colt in his hand, “But ya really don’t have too, Jin, I am fine.” it was a lie and he and Jin knew that just the way he was holding the weapon. She reached out and then held the hand holding the gun, making him look at her.
“Mind if I ask why are you holding a revolver?” she asked as she and him looked at each other.
Dempsey knew that he wanted to do it with a weapon such as a colt revolver, that one thought, an idea, just swimming in the back of his mind for quite a little while but he couldn't let that side of himself show, not by a long shot and too stubborn to admit it. He simply shrugged and said “Just wanted to make sure those Lickers don't eat us in our sleep,” he excused, “You could never be safer than being ripped to shreds.”
Jin looked at him a bit more now and then she said softly, “I’ll stay.”
“Run that by me again, Jin?”
“I’ll stay with you.” in repeated herself, letting go him hand, she intended to stay with him to make sure that he doesn’t do anything too stupid, possibly to his own life, “I will let you be on watch if you want, do wake me up if you do see something.”
Tank looked down to face the revolver from Jin, looking a bit confused yet vacated from the conversion they had before he looked at her and nodded “Yeah, sure.”
Jin nodded as Dempsey got up to let Jin get into bed, she stretched her arms to prepare for the night as she pulled the sheets over her with P!Dempsey sat down on the bed again as he looked at her. She does have a nice…
“Not now, Tank.” his subconscious told him as he shook his head, “No time for feelings, lover boy.”
Jin fell asleep quickly after finding comfort in the blankets as Dempsey watched, letting out a soft sigh as he looked at the revolver again. He wasn’t the one to admit it but she had stopped him, he’ll give her that but he is a little worried about the Lickers he encountered however so it is a reason for him to keep watch.
He looked at the window again as the fire in the backyard had dimmed and smoke rising from where the bear was cooked. He has watched the window like a hawk for anything with a long tongue and teeth for an hour or two when Jin woke up with a sketch and got out of bed.
“Sleep well?” he asked as she sat down beside him, “Yes I have.” she answered as she immediately prepared to take the night watch, “It’s now your turn to get some rest and me taking watch.”
Dempsey looked at her and then looked at the revolver in his hands, he then looked at her again and said “Do you know how to use it?”
Jin simply nodded as she took it from his hand gently before he had got up to lay down the bed with the blanket over her, she looked over to the corporal and responded nicely “Sleep well, Dempsey.”
Dempsey softly smiled with tired eyes and then started to fight his way to get some sleep. A few minutes of this, his eyelids closed tightly, soon softened and he fell asleep soon...
The sound of gunfire and chains flying through the air, his boots were dusted in dirt as his two feet crashed onto the ground as he ran away from whoever it was he was running from.
“Sh!t sh!t Sh!t SH!T….!” he cursed loudly under his breath as he was losing air from his lungs, the sounds of the gun firing and chains flying in the air are consent; whenever he had to stop to catch his breath, the sounds returned and making him turn tail and running through an old western town that seemed abandoned since the 1800’s or after that century.
He skidded on the ground to turn the corner and then made it inside an nearby building that seemed like a shack. He hid inside the shack, on the wall and remained silent and watched a figure walking by: the one with a cowboy hat, a trench coat and weiding what appears to be a gun of a strange kind.
The pursuer walked by the marine without even noticing him being inside, Tank had sighed in relief softly and he got off the wall. “Thank god…”
He then walked towards the way he came in but chains suddenly appeared and stretched across the doorless frame, wrapping and blocking off his exit as he yelled out a curse word.
He feared that the man chasing had heard it happened too so he had to find another way out of the building as he turned to notice something that he didn’t see in this shack before he entered. A staircase that leads down, he softly breathed in and out before looking at the blocked off exit, then he shook his head at this.
With no other choice on the matter, he descends downstairs with slow steps on the steps as the setting sunlight creeps through the walls made from wood boards. He then turned to see what was in the basement itself of the shack. He muttered “Oh no…” as he got a look of what was in the room.
It was a stake in the center of the basement and on it were four rusted hooks, but they looked like they were sharpened to a fine point and crusted with blood, like it was used countless times with an animal of kind that had been hoisted onto it.
He had stood there to take in what he was seeing until the chains upstairs had been taken down and someone walked in. He cursed under his breath and looked for a way to hide which he eventually did through a hole wide enough for him to fit inside.
Footsteps were descending down the stairs and came upon the landing as he could see through the cracks to see who it was: The man with the gun came inside the basement and began to look around, finding someone inside.
“Where are you…?” an old voice called out from the man, banging on the creaking walls and pounding, “I know you’re in here!” He said as he used the bunt of the rifle to bash through the wall on the right of the basement, the sound had revirabated to Tank as he flinched but didn’t make noise, he was not going to give away his location.
After a long time, the man seemed to give up as he said “Well said… Have it your way then.” as Dempsey sees him going back upstairs with the shadow stretching out on the wall where the sun was shining before it had settled over the entrance.
Dempsey carefully slid out of the hole and looked around as he saw the hole the man in the trench coat had made with his coat. The chips and splinters were on the inside of the wall and some of it was hanging off the craves.
He slowly had put his hand into the hole his purser had made, feeling another wall from within, feeling cobwebs and wood from inside. The bunt of the rifle had made a bend on the wooden plank wall when he had his fingers to feel the bump the man had made out of anger and frustration.
“Jesus…” he muttered as he placed his hand through it, “at least have an therapist…” he sarcastically jabbed as he pulled his hand out of the hole but then jumped when an one claw wrenched out of the hole the man had made, it was pitch black and it had a tinge of orange on the tip as it had a bit of fur of the same color when it came out and made him yell in shock.
The claw happened to try to slash at him but he missed it just in time just narrowingly avoiding its attack, then he witnessed its shell cracked and then crumbed away, transforming it into… Chains.
It was a flash as the chains behaved like snakes controlled by their master and it shot forward towards as he turned to try to run but these metal linked strings had latched onto his right arm and coiled around it in a tight grip. “What the hell…?!” He pulled at the chains as he tried to break it but then he spotted another same claw came out of the first hole he was hiding in and it, like the claw, changed into chains and lashed out.
His left arm was grabbed and coiled by the chains behaving like a predatory snake and the next thing he knew, they pulled and his arms were stretched about as he screamed. The footsteps returned and there was the cowboy on the landing. Dempsey pulled desperately to get them to let go his arms but their grip was death-like as they were rattled and clacked.
“So that’s where you were boy,” the man then lifted his head up to reveal the rest of his face, Caleb the Deathslinger, his white and black eyes locked onto his target as he had lifted his jawbone upward, reconnected it to his skull with a crack that made Tank cringed at the sound of it. “Nowhere to run this time.” he muttered as he stood where he was as he lifted his rifle upwards him as he gotten a good look at it:
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[Digitally drawn by Meaghan “Icefir” Halter]
The rifle had a reel with chains attached to it, with a lever to pull it and lastly, it had a very defining feature to it as the chains are connected to it: Some type of harpoon or a spear and it was aimed at him.
The hammer was heard smashing onto the barrel and the next thing he felt was a spear piercing through his abdomen and out his back as the pain was unbearable-
He jumped out of his sleep with a yell, eyes wide open and panting as if he was seeing hell far beyond him. He quickly checked his abdomen with his eyes locked onto it as he placed his hand on where the spear surpassingly made its mark.
No blood, no sign of t-shirt torn or penetrated the skin, flesh and bone. “Dempsey?” a soft voice had questioned worryingly, he turned to face Jin, she was looking at him with an unsettled yet concerned look in her eyes.
He looked at her for a good minute before closing his eyes and placing his hand on his forehead as sweat trailed down. “Are you okay, Dempsey?”
“I’m alright, it’s just a nightmare… that’s gotten worse.” he muttered as he looked in the other direction, Jin was a bit puzzled of what she could understand him saying under his breath. “Nightmare?” she said as she lowered her hand as he looked at something else in the room, an old pile of junk that is drawers filled with beads, strings, scissors and paint brushes with painting of any kind and other things. Like he had never said that but he did say “What time is it?”
“It was only 3 o’clock in the morning, Dempsey.” Jin responded as she looked at him a bit more, studying his movements, “Damn…” he sighed, “Just when I was getting some good night sleep too.” as he rubbed his eyes with his shaking hand with a soft groan.
Jin was worried for his mental health as she continued to look at him for a bit longer and said “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m feeling fine, Jin.” he lied as he looked at her now with tired eyes as he let out a dry chuckle. But she refused to believe him as she saw through that sentence; a lie. A lie to keep his pride up.
“Are you sure about that?” she responded as she crawled onto Dempsey’s side, sitting next to him as he had his hands on the bed, planted onto the sheets as he was baffled by this. “I can see it in your eyes that you are… Distressed.”
Tank looked at the window to avoid but then in defeat, he let go of the breath from his mouth. “Like I had said, it’s a nightmare.” he confessed finally, Jin listened closely to what he had to say more. “It was me being chased and eventually being killed by a creepy-ass cowboy that looked like a zombie but smarter than that.” he then looked down from the window. “And he had a gun with a spear that killed me with…”
“If it’s connected to the war,” Jin rationalized as she had placed her hand on his cheek and had him turn to look at her, “If so, it could be understandable.”
His eyebrows furrowed upward and as he had his arm rested on one of his knees, “But something about it felt so real.” he mumbled softly to himself. Jin then said “There is no need to worry.” before wrapping her arms around the American. He was a little flustered when she did this but he found comfort in this and held her arm with one hand as he closed his eyes.
“Thanks.” he said, showing gratitude.
“No worries.” Jin replied with a gentle smile.
He was smiling softly himself but then they both flinched when they heard the door open, they were both ready to face whatever it was until they saw who it was: It was Erron who yawned as he rubbed his eyes.
“Hey Erron,” Dempsey sneered tiredly, “You almost scared us.”
“Evenin’, Tank,” Erron stopped to see Jin with him, he had dark circles around his eyes like he hadn't slept for a while but he had brushed it off and asked “Mind if I ask you two what you are talking about?”
“Nothing important, Erron.” Dempsey responded as he looked at him carefully, “Speaking of which, ya’ll looked like crap, Erron.”
“It was Scout’s fault for talking.” Erron complained as he had his thumb pointed at the closed door on his left as it left him and the Shaolin woman confused by what Erron meant by that. “But wasn’t Scout asleep on the top bunk above you?” Jin responded with a raised brow as Erron looked like he had run out of many cares to give anyway.
“Oh, don’t worry, he is asleep,” he answered as he grabbed the doorknob, opened it just a crack and what they were hearing was kinda humorous. “Heeeey, Pauling…. Do ya want to go on a date?” Scout murmured from the darkened bedroom with Erron holding the door open just a small wedge as he concluded “But he’s like a radio that can’t shut up.”
Jin giggled and face palmed as Dempsey smirked “Poor you” he joked as the Outworlder glared at them as he pulled the door close just as Scout mumbled out “Oh no, the dog has wings….!”
“Anyway, I was going to take a leak in the middle of the night anyway.” Erron explained as he let go of the knob and waved this off with his hand before he wrapped his arms together, trying to warm up as he walked into the darkened hallways.
“You should’ve got a blanket with you, dumba$$.” Dempsey sassily remarks as the man was fading into darkness as he replied “Yeah, whatever.” his response echoing in the halls.
The corporal smiled as he shook his head while Jin looked sighed and held her forehead, but then he looked solemn again as he looked down again as she noticed.
He looked aloof with himself, “Dempsey,” she responded as she placed her hand on her shoulder. He looked at her again then responded “It’s only a nightmare, I know-” but he was cut off.
“If you want more sleep then you would,” she offered, Dempsey’s mouth was aigbe a little bit upon hearing that, “if you had another nightmare, I’m here, understand?'' She sounded like a mother figure for someone that’s broken, broken nearly beyond repair but he had said nothing but nodded. “We have to do work at sunrise, try to get some sleep.” she said as Dempsey laid back down and fell asleep with Jin beside him, sitting upright on the bed.
Yet, Erron had lied about going to the restroom but instead had his hand over his mouth as his eyes locked onto the ground with furrowed brows. What he had overheard, he hardly ignored what Tank experienced in that nightmare.
He muttered “That can’t be Caleb…”
-In the morning light.-
Sun rose over the mountains that seemed to be close to the neighborhood in ruins and dominated by the forest trees as dawn bleeds anew with colors of purple, orange and sky blue dancing in the sky.
Primis Takeo placed the pieces of firewood into the dying campfire to warm up Heavy, and Sniper.
Bendy had to share a blanket with seemingly tired Bruno who was barely awake as they had been watching their prisoners, the Ink Demon looked concerned for the giant Frenchman as he had him wrapped in the blanket to get him warmth.
Scout was on look out of Ultimis Richtofen’s “Cottage” with Ultimis Nikolai was slubbed down, back on it and drunk as ever, vodka in hand as he hiccup. Ratchet and Clank are with Frank West, Raiden and Erron with the digitized map of Salt Lake City in ruins but it is now named Fallen City due to it’s population of the undead roaming in its streets.
“Hard to believe that they could do this much damage.” Erron muttered under his breath as he looked at the map, Raiden interjected “In most cases, an outbreak like this is common since the COVID-19 pandemic.” as he looked at him while pointing at where they were right now on the map.
“Actually, Raiden,” Clank intervened, “It’s only Utah that’s populated with the infected.” as the cyborg and kombatiant were confused by what the small robot had said. “How is that?” Raiden responds in confusion, “It should be an epidemic by now.”
“It could be but the place where I am from, something similar happened to Willamette is that the national guard had roped and blocked off every road leading into the town where the outbreak started.” Frank rationized, motioning Rachet to zoom out the city and they watched as the city was zoomed out to view the state.
It was Utah in nearly red color but it remained in its shape of that state, not once are any signs of the infection leaving it. “But this was unheard off, they said that it could stay in one city but not the whole state itself.”
“No sh!t, Frank.” Erron said as he looked closer at the map, small red dots were going close to the border of Utah but they disappeared upon reaching the line, “Whatever’s keeping the dead inside the state is not going to let them out.”
“Almost like a force field.” Raiden added. Clank nodded as Ratchet added “Still, it’s something to think about but keep in mind though…” as he pointed at a few blue dots leaving the state and a couple more dots entering it. “I am guessing those who are not infected are allowed to leave and go inside Utah as much as they want.”
“Almost like it was a strange type of spell quarantining the state.” Erron said as he watched the two different colored circles moving around in a few cities of the Beehive state. “With us survivors, it’s good that we don't have to worry about the dead coming out but if you’re a zombie, being trapped here will suck so much.”
“Frank,” Raiden said as he looked at him, “Do you remember how you got here?”
“Not too sure but I was outside the city before I met you guys, plus the way out of it was blocked off but there are other roads out of it if you’re asking.” he replied as he looked at the map once again. Having Ratchet zoom in again on the city.
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[Map of Utah, from Google Search]
Raiden looked at the one lone black dot on Orem and pointed at it with a sharp metalized index finger, “That’s where we are right now but if we go along the line,” he said as he had his finger follow the line towards Cedar city. “It could have a road leading out of the state, then we could get out of this hellhole.”
Erron looked at Raiden and insisted “But to travel that far, we need supplies to last us about three days to get there. We need to find as much as we can carry on us.”
Frank West internally groans, again with the three day mark like the same scenes before. He face-plamed at this and said “Is there a train that can get us there?”
Erron looked at Frank West and said “There is one, but it’s in Provo and there’s all of them all over the place.” he then looked at Raiden, “Do you think you can clean that town up?”
Raiden remained silent for a moment but then he responded “You’ll leave them to me.” as he turned away and said “Find anyone that will scout the area, we’ll be leaving at sunset.”
“With pleasure, Raiden.” Erron nodded as he turned to walk away from the map as well with Raiden, leaving Frank West with the lombax and a small robot companion.
“Mr. West.”
“Hm?” he turned to face Clank as he was looking back at him. “You wanted to scout the area as well?” Clank offered as well, “You are a reporter-”
“As well as a freelance photojournalist and a teacher in a local college, Clank.” Frank added as he pointed at the camera, hanging around by an landrid around his neck and hasn’t been used in a while since he met the group of people from different worlds.
“Yeah, that, something like that is useful.” Ratchet said this as he crossed his arms, “Dempsey did say that there are mutations of those zombies like Lickers. If there are more, we need pictures of them.”
“Sounds like a scoop you wanted me to look into.” Frank smiled, liking this idea already but then he said “What if I accidentally ran into one of them if they heard me?”
“Hey Frank, that’s what our arteries are for.” Ratchet responded, “Most of us are armed to the teeth and neck deep in these infected people.”
“As for Lickers,” Clank added as he justered his finger upward, “Mr. Dempsey had said on the note he found that they will attack anything that makes noise so best to remain quiet when they are in an area with you.”
“Gotcha, Clank.” Frank said as he nodded, he then looked at the barbed-wire bat he had rested on an overgrown oak tree with vines draggling off the branches. He walked over to it and then picked it up and threw it over his shoulder and landed. “Right, I’m heading out first before anyone could scout out. Make sure they will bring back any stuff and food we could need.” Frank responded as he headed to the east gate that leads out of the backyard, opened it and then went out of it as it closed behind him.
Erron then turned to Ratchet and Clank then said “As for you guys, best to find the best scouts that can do this.”
They nodded as the map was turned off and then he helped Clank onto his back with a click before walking off as he placed his hands on his hips.
-Later on that morning-
There are a few willing volunteers willing to savage the area; Scout of course, Erron, Gordon Freeman, Soldier, Demoman, and Jin Huang. They are given a brief rundown on how they will be leaving soon but warn them about the mutations.
“So, we will have to find other resources for the journey ahead,” Erron explained to the group, Scout had swung his bat onto his shoulder and asked “And where are we going?”
“Cedar City is far from this city,” Erron answered, “Hopefully less zombies, the better.”
“Aren’t we going to wait for the others?” Soldier asked as he adjusted his helmet a little as Demoman looked at the Outworlder. “The Knight said that they are in another world,” as he places his hat back on and it is shadowed over his eyes, “Besides, he has an artifact that allows him to go from one realm to the next so they will be able to catch up to us.”
“Seems possible?” Jin commented as she raised a brow, “And I had to ask, what artifact is it?”
“I don’t know to be truthful,” Erron responded, “Most of us don't tell me about it but best have good faith that he still has it.”
“Plus, we are armed to the teeth,” Scout strugged, “we can take on those lickers.”
“I didn’t say there will just be Lickers, they could have other mutations.” Erron interjected that poke a hole in the young man’s bubble. “The science experts had said that zombies with parasites or viruses can mutate overtime, judging on how long this city had gone through over the years or so.”
Scout gulped with the thought, Erron then shook his hand to dismiss the conversion as he said “Very well, then, we haven’t got time to waste away. We gotta find something to survive on for the next few days or die stravin’.”
“Understood, Erron.” Jin nodded as Demoman looked at her but then nodded. Soldier then salutes this, “Remember before you're a$$es left; be careful out there.”
They nod to acknowledge before heading toward two different gates and going out back into the woodland neighbor and into the infested busy streets.
Jin, however, still struggled to comprehend how different characters could coexist with each other but she had to push aside her new questions and continued on forward. As they go on, she learns more about Gordon, Demoman and Soldier.
Gorden Freeman is truly a man with a few words, he had helped people in an accident as he had referred to as The Black Mesa Incident and led a rebellion against an enemy known as the Combine.
Demoman and Soldier are quite good friends and teammates actually, despite the American being obsessed with wars and bloodshed while the latter is working two jobs, one being a house cleaner and a flipping demolitions expert as a mercenary for hire.
They are quite smart to stay in groups as new breeds of infection are now more presentable, not just 115 zombies.
One infection had visible black veins, rarely ones without injuries but others are most bitemarks and scratches where the virus had spread. Another was riddled with worms, strange worms of alien origin and mutated into special types as their green vomiting counterparts had different yet same parts when it came to mutating.
The zombies, the non-eyes-glowing ones had eyes almost white yet they stumbled slowly, they will be resistant towards being shot in the head surprisingly but it will take 4 or more bullets or even stabs to bring it down.
They had gotten into stores and located non perishable items that strangely haven’t yet been perished yet despite how much time had passed by since what happened to this state in the U.S.
To cover more ground and to get more, they split up and told to keep an eye out for threats around the corners. Jin entered a community hospital and she had found modern medical equipment with an umbrella logo on each of them. The scene seemed to have a group of people researching brain samples before they were interrupted by something that she already knew what it was.
“We better need medicine for our journey ahead of us.” she whispered as she had a sack to stuff them in but when she’s all done doing so, Jin had found notes on a pharmacy desk, curious on what they would say, she picked them up and read them.
Umbrella Corps. Research Notes
The T-Virus had appeared when we had gotten here, it was thought to be destroyed yet we are trying to come up with the theory for its continued existence.
The virus that mutated white and red blood cells causing them to go black colored, the origin is unknown but it is referred to as The Black Plague Virus.
The parasitic worms, a neurological alien of unknown origin, can take over the host and control it. These “Devil Worms” as we call it and it is rather shocking they can merge together as they mutate.
The victims had similar symptoms to the rabies yet it appears that it had been weaponized, the virus of this type had been nicknamed the Green Flu due to it showing signs of a flu but soon they will become rapid overtime.
The unknown element had reanimated dead cells in the human body, making them, like the four other deadly pathogens, into literal zombies, finding documents of the same thing happening in the late 40’s as this element is referred to as 115 discovered by an organization called Group 935.
They were theories on how they are contained inside the state of Utah due to them unable to go outside as something is keeping them inside. It is unknown what is happening could be good or bad yet we could not know for now.
Further research is needed.
Jin was confused by the notes provided such similar information yet it is useful that it showed strange yet same symptoms of the zombification process. Violet behavior, headaches, sensitive to light and such more.
“This is strange…” she muttered as she folds the notes and placed them in her pocket for later, to show the others of her discovery. She was about to leave when she noticed something that caught her eye.
A mysterious hooded figure walked away from the mirror hanging above and walked out of the door calmly like it was a normal day. She turned to see the backdoor closing in time. “Wait…!” she said as she walked fastly towards it and then pushed it open and she found herself in an alley away that’s rotten away and nature crawling upward on the walls.
She looked on the left side, the end of the alley way leading towards the more heavily woods and on the right she saw the Ridden and Black Plague zombies, they were not looking in her direction but hissing and screeched at one another over a kill the other claimed. Similar to a pack of wolves when the alpha is defending its meal.
Jin covered her mouth to prevent the sound from coming out, deciding that she needs to leave and leave now. Moving slowly, she walked back to the door and tried pulling it open but it wouldn't bulge. She tried again but harder yet it still couldn't open from the second attempt. She was locked outside.
She turned to pay attention in the right direction, one of the Plagues seemed to sniff the air and then turned to the alley, its face was half-way ripped off, flesh and teeth showing as black veins sprawled across its features. It snurled upon seeing her as her thoughts were racing but she remained calm, not showing fear from what her masters taught her. “Looks like I am taking an alternate route…” she thought as she turned on her heels and then ran as she heard the screeches from the damned reined in the air. She ran into the forested area to lose them as both Ridden and Black Plague are flooding in the alley and making their way to the heavily wooded area but not without killing each other to get to it first.
They bite and scratch each other as some of them are overwhelming them and then devouring their flesh and organs that have been tainted with the virus or a parasite as the rest had managed to make it through the alley way and proceeded to chase her.
She was like a monkey on the loose upon release, she ran and avoided logs and used branches to swing over the terrain to outrun the dead. The sound of something else is hopping with her at the same pace as her but she was confused when she heard at least six pairs of feet on the ground or the branches.
Before she could turn her head to face whatever it was, that couplet had hopped into her vision, right in front of her. It was human but it lacked of hair on it’s head, it had four arms, two small as the other limbs are longer and it had a red pulsating organ on the bottom of its throat and collarbone as it has been missing a jaw to begin with and replaced with a lower part of the mouth with small sharp teeth.
Red eyes glowed as it snarled and crawled like an animal one side to the left then to the right a little. A worm with mandible spurts out of it’s one eye socket and into another as they bleed crimson tears down from its eyes as Jin cringed at that sight when she looked at the creature in the eye.
“Did the worms do that?” she thought as she pulled her hair ornament out, prepared to fight what this monstrosity is but it seems to know what it is doing. Getting on two feet and then doing something peculiar with it’s four hands as if it was a normal day of folding clothes but something was slimy and drooling in them then suddenly, it tossed the “ball” at her and it exploded.
She exclaimed as she tried to get away but her legs were caught in the mucky projectile and it climbed up to her stomach, pinning her in place while she stood. “What the hell…?!” she tried to pull at the clammy slime but it was like rubber and it stood on her while the screeching had reached her ears.
She looked up just in time to find the worm-ridden creature leaping at her, the two hands wrapped around her throat and neck as the other two are holding on her shoulders as she is doing the same with her own arms to push or try to push it away from her as she was choking, fighting for air.
It roared at her as worms fell out of it’s eye sockets and onto the ground, missing her face as she was losing consciousness but then, its side of its head had exploded with blood and brain matter spewed out. It stopped then fell with Jin in its arms as by now the slime had expired.
She gasped in for air as she heard a familiar voice calling out to her, “Jin!” and feet running over to her and then her arm was grabbed and being pulled up onto her feet. It was P!Dempsey.
“Are ya alright!?”
“Yeah, I am fine…” she rubbed her bruised neck as she looked at the creature, “It’s true what Erron has said about the mutations.”
The marine was looking at the corpse then shrugged a little, “A stinger like this one must be Licker’s second cousin, an ugly b@#$ too.” he sass-talked before the ‘Stinger” was slowly getting back up but was quickly shot down with another bullet with a gun.
Head was clearly devastated from the second bullet discharge, several worms crawled out and went into the ground as they groaned in disgust. “F*#$ing gross…”
Jin thought back about the notes she found and then worried that the others might catch up from the alley after their fight with each other. “Corporal,” she spoke up as he was going to leave, P!Dempsey looked at Jin with a raised eyebrow as she held up the papers and landed them on him. “I had found this from the hospital before I fled, I think there are not just two viruses here in this state.” she explained.
“Could be worth the trouble you’ve gotten yourself into.” he said softly but then he heard faint growls from the tree lines. He gestures with his hand to get her moving as he muttered “We have to get the f#$% out of here…”
They turned and fled the area where the Stinger had appeared as the Ridden and the Plague were coming in.
-Suncrest-
From a frying pan and into an oven, that is what Jin could hear him mutter under his breath as he read one page after another. Apparently the deadly pathogens that can create the dead walked this earth and had each section separately after research on them.
“What is the matter, Tank?” she asked softly as the corporal placed the notes in his pouch and said “First 115 and now four more?” sounded angry, “Talk about dinner for the worms after they can…” he then shook his head. He wasn’t sure if this was even more worse than the previous universe they belonged in.
“Dempsey,”
“Yeah, Jin?” he asked, annoyed as he looked at her now.
“That Stinger, it had..” she was interrupted with the marine’s hand placed onto her shoulder and said “I know…” softly, “It’s one hell of a way to die.” and Jin looked down with her brows furrowed. She then looked at him and nodded wordlessly. He smiled softly and then looked around.
Yet, she can’t let go of the feeling peculiarly on how he was at the wrong place yet the right time, so she needs to ask while they are now continuing to walk down the street that is now halfway covered by dirt forming a path.
“Dempsey?”
“What’s up?”
“I like to know, how did you find me in trouble?”
He was usually loud enough to verbally question Richtofen or someone else loudly but he was oddly quiet but then he answered “Don’t like to copy Tak but I had a stinking feeling when you left. " as he scratched the back of his head."
Jin cocked her head to the side with little confusion yet interested, “You had sensed that I’d be in danger.” she said as she and him continued walking down the path. “You could say that.” he nodded as he looked at the tall trees, pine trees and oak trees that grew to climb the skies upon the ground and dirt.
“I like to call it a “gut feeling” in situations like that one back at the house.”
“Well, I am glad you listened to that “gut” feeling.”
Dempsey chuckled softly as he closed his eyes and turned his head away from the trees, “Yeah, this tank sure did.”
Jin softly smiled at this man as she had a tint of pink on her cheeks as birds above them chirped above them. This is a peaceful walk in the woods that is once a town before the walking dead of all five kinds showed up.
Yet, the feeling hasn’t shown up until when they are deeper into the forest and the air has gotten… colder?
Jin had felt the familiar temperature and held her arms together as Dempsey looked around as soon as he felt the wind had gotten colder than usual, “What the hell?” he muttered as they walked along but more aware of their surroundings.
Their feet crunched onto something soft, they looked down and saw they had walked into a bed of snow. “Why is there snow in the middle of summer?”
“The hell I know,” Dempsey had spoken the thought out loud, those the only thoughts he could think to say as he was caught off guard with what appears to be the change of the session. “Whatever’s happening is not a part of mother nature’s to-do list.”
He continued onward into the slowly falling snowflakes before a blizzard hit them both, “Holy sh!t!”
“Tank!”
The snowstorm had come along and the environment had transformed into a winter hell, Dempsey calls out to Jin ``Jin! Are you there?!”
He felt a hand grabbing hold of his own, he flinched and was going to get a knife out, believing it was another zombie but then heard her voice “Wait, I have you!”
He felt himself relaxed a little when he heard Jin, they sheided their eyes from the shooting snowflakes as they continued forward, “It is almost like that winter from the 1900’s!” he bellowed out as he was trying to find a sight or a road for them to go on. “It was colder than Northern France!”
“And it still is!” Jin stated as she too was trying as the corporal marine, “Do you think what might cause this, Tank?!”
“How the hell should I know-” they then bumped into something that caused them to fell backwards from, they looked up and saw a buff towering figure over them, it was frozen but it’s features are still visible; it was missing a jawbone and a tongue dangling out, its fists are too big for the normal human fingers to curl into one.
They both yelled and Dempsey got out his revolver to fire but then noticed the big hulk-like zombie was indeed turned into an icy statue as it appeared it was about to smash onto something or someone it was targeted.
“Hold on…” he got up on his feet as Jin stumbled onto hers as well, and as they looked around the area, they were barely able to see what else was around them; a horde of zombies, frozen into light blue statues as they appeared to have green vomit leaking from their lips. They way they are posed as if they were after something or someone they were chasing.
More of them are several common yet some are special, one of them had a long tongue as it looked like a frog trying to catch a fly almost similar trait to the Lickers, the other had claws and bleeding from the eyes as the hood had covered its head but its face where it was features shown and it was even being hold up by the ice sickle attached to a nearby building as if it was jumping towards something.
The other looked like it had been crying for a long time judging by the trail of tears on a creature’s features with long nails, long blooded sharp claw-like nails up into the air, ready to strike and like others around her, it was also frozen solid.
“They are…” Jin is finding the courage to speak up in silence besides the noise of the snowstorm, “They are all frozen.”
“You said it, Jin.” Dempsey nodded, zombies frozen in places that reminded him of the time that Nikolai had tried out the Staff of Ice for the first time back in France and it had frozen one of the 115 zombies. “It’s like back in Northern France, Jin.”
“Shh… Something is coming.” footsteps crunching in the snow from the south direction, they turned and ready to confront whatever’s the one responsible. The crunching snow made by two pairs of feet came closer as the figure had formed a shadow from the blizzard. It was the shape of a man and this human had glowing icy blue eyes peering from the hail of snow before stopping in front of them.
Dempsey said “Whoever you are, f*#$er, show yourself.'' With a threatening tone in his voice, the figure responded by raising his hand and then in one smooth motion, his hand traveled to the right shoulder and then washed it back down.
As if on command, the storm driddled and hastily stopped as light from the sun shined through once more, revealing the figure that dwindled in the blizzard. As the snow settles around them, the sun reveals this stranger quickly, he is wearing a blue zukin mask, a hooded cowl with a hat and blue ribbon flowing in the wind yet soon slowly handing it as it dies down. The jacket he was wearing had no sleeves and both of his arms are ice colored unnaturally but they moved just fine with no issue as blue and silver arm guards are strapped to them as well with fingerless gloves, blue wrap around his torso and black boots buried in the snow.
Jin looked at this man as he was staring at them with one scar over one of the eyes, his breath breathed through the mask as it provided four retringle holes as it was seen in the frost.
She walked beside the tensed man before her and then gently rested her hand over the barrel of the revolver then lowered it slowly down as he looked at her in confusion. Jin was certain that the situation would continue negatively.
“We mean no harm, sir, we are not one of them.” She spoke in a calm yet professional manner as she looked him in the eye as they changed colors; from icy blue to normal brown as their glow was lost.
“State your business then.” a deep male voice responded from the man as he stood down as a sign of being less of a threat. “We are only salvagers, looking for supplies to get the hell out of this sh!t.” Dempsey responded with his eyebrow raised.
The man responded “Then we are in the same scerno.” as he had his hand reached his zukin mask and then with little work, he removed it, revealing a beard that is black as a raven’s feathers. “I am Sub-Zero.”
“Sub-Zero, huh?” Dempsey is a little intrigued by the name this man had, “Mind saying why they call ya that?” Yet before anyone could say anything, a loud screech was heard and the couple spotted one of the zombies frozen running towards Sub-Zero. It was one of those hooded special zombies as its teeth are sharped and bared like a rabid dog.
“Watch out!”
Sub-Zero said nothing as the screeching zombie acting like a wild animal was running towards him and ready to strike but they seemed aware of what was happening as he turned and then grabbed this “Hunter” by the head.
It attempted to scratch his arm to break free but very quickly, the frost and ice spread all over it as it stopped moving due to cryo-hibernation the Shinobi had performed upon it as P!Dempsey and P!Jin watched on with astonishment.
And then in one go, Sub-Zero threw it onto the snow-covered road, upon impact, its body, head, arms, legs, hands, and feet had exploded into pieces all over. The head rolled over to Dempsey’s feet as he said “Holy sh!t…!”
Jin was a little shocked to see this happen but they now know why he is called “Sub-Zero.”
“Is this why, Sub-Zero?”
The man only nodded before putting his mask back on, and saying “There are much more things than this.”
“Still freezing the crap out of that freakbag!” Dempsey finally laughed a little, “How did you do that?”
Sub-Zero looked at him and answered “I and my brother were born with these,” as he shook his head at the marine, but then took a moment to examine the duo. They are from a different realm, in a past somewhere from what he could think of.
“Do you two know where you are from?”
“From ours?”
Sub-Zero nodded as he crossed his arms as he looked at them both while the two were standing there, recovering from what had transpired.
“We are from…” P!Dempsey wanted to say what dimension they are from, “1918. We’re from the first world war.”
He looked a little surprised, “We are from different realms, whoever did this must have a purpose for us being here..” he stated, Jin looked at Sub-Zero as her eyes narrowed, “Do you believe this might be a Mortal Kombat tournament?”
“Yes, I do.” Sub-Zero nodded as he turned around then walked away, Dempsey then followed behind him with Jin doing the same. “Hey, we have theories about this bullsh!t too.” he said as their feet were crunching upon the snow passing by the horde of frozen statues with the Green Flu.
“And they might be?”
“It could be the octopus-things called Apothicons that Doc called them, or that some kind of an experiment gone wrong the worst way possible.”
“Or could be Shao Khan or Shang Tsung.” Sub-Zero poked the holes, as he looked down at the ground slowly changing from snow to the dirt ground. “The latter could have done this.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Time to count the suffering.”
“I am sorry, Sub-Zero.” Jin apologized as Dempsey looked ahead as he asked “So, you stated you are born like this, is there any training for that?”
Sub-Zero slowed down a minute and turned his head facing the corporal, “If you are ever born a cryomancer, the clan, Lin Kuei, will train you yet I train you how to use winter’s power, and to control and tame it.”
Jin nodded understandingly, as a shaolin monk, she understood the warrior.
Sub-Zero then stopped himself, which made others stop in their tracks, “Stay quiet.” Sub-Zero’s instincts were quite right, Jin took note and got her hairpin out as Dempsey looked at them in confusion but soon heard voices faintly as he muttered “What the hell is that?” as he held up the revolver once more.
Sub-Zero shushed him and they slowly stepped over to the source of the voices and then kneeled down into the tall grass with P!Dempsey and Jin behind him. The tall grass are yellowish green and the height of grass itself goes up to an average human’s wrist but it was tall enough for an animal to hide, the grass was parted halfway for them to see who was talking, much to Tank’s confusion, and Sub-Zero’s surprise, there were Hyenas standing on their hind legs, holding sharpen boomerangs, bows and arrows, and other weapons that the humans would use. They are dressed in tribal african clothing that seemed to be a mix of 1920’s and medieval age.
They are speaking in an unknown language, a mix of Zulu and strange gibberish pouring from their mouths as they surround carcasses with arrows in them, bleeding from the open wounds. Upon closer look, Dempsey and Jin had realized that those were the strange bears Takeo had slain, faces that looked like tigers but had bodies of normal bears with long tails. patterns of tiger stripes placed upon their dark brown and white fur they bore. Then the other spoke in english “Do you think she will approve of the fest of living Tears?”
“The queen will,” the other Hyena responded as he gently kicked the tiger-bear’s head that had been called Tear. “She had said this once and not twice, the Untotens’ flesh is far too rotten and unsafe to eat.”
“Due to the five plagues they had within.” the other one said with a female voice as she had taken a rag that was used too many times to the point it was just a dark crimson fabric. “Humans weren’t prepared for the All-Five Outbreak 500 years ago.”
“Neither the same with Monsters.” their leader added as gotten a knife out, the one that appears to be made from bone and wood, walking over to one of the Tears’ corpses, “Yet, all five Untoten Hordes were stopped by the Tree of Life.” He spoke as he kneeled down and then stabbed the carcass.
Tree of Life?
Primis Dempsey had heard them wrong or… he had recalled a myth that his mother had recalled when he was a boy, he showed a little interest in his Irish heritage and Celtic religion his mother had tried to force upon.
Crann Bethadn is referred to as the Tree of Life by the Celtics in Ancient Times as they believed that the trees on Earth had several powers and were sources of all life we breathed into our lungs.
The symbol is preserved well for so many centuries by our people of Ireland.
We carry our deep roots of our heritage.
Primis Dempsey had averted his eyes away from the Hyenas to focus fighting that memory in his mind, bad timing to recall the past, bad timing he thought.
“Still, do you remember what our elders had told us over and over?” as several other Hyenas looked at the female hunter in their group, “About the forbidden water that was left behind after Humans and Monsters ascended.”
“Ah yes, Femina, we remembered.” the pack leader answered as he pulled out meat and muscle from a Tear and put it into a sack as blood dripped from the bottom. “Gods of the Old World had accidentally let the forbidden water fall down from the skies, our past elders drank from it and soon, knowledge had changed them the way we are now.”
The trio listened to them as the story behind the ordeal was unfolding, yet it was sickening: an zombie outbreak had happened with all five dangerous biohazards and it had been 500 years later afterwards but what caused it to happen? Then a thought came in Dempsey’s head: Broken, the one that Knight had talked about, might have something to do with it.
Something had done something unforgiving and appealing towards humanity and monsters had made his blood boil but he can’t let it burst out of him, not here, not now.
“The day that world has fallen, the Incident, Humans, Monsters, fled into the stars to flee the terrors.” the other Hyena nodded to the conversion, “Yet, from the previous animal kingdom, Gods of The Old World had given birth to us, Furthers, to watch over the world to wait for their return.”
“Yet, the queen is here so we will have no fear if they will attack or not.”
“I agree now, help me skin them.”
They watched in silence as Hyena Furthers had gotten out similar knives and started skinning the Tears, taking organs and flesh covered in blood as they were placed in sacks as blood dripped and poured from the bottom of the sacks and onto the ground.
All that is left of the Tears now were skinless, fleshly yet bones exposing carcasses. They then got up on their hind legs again like they were human beings and then walked away from the bloody scene.
They waited until the voices and footsteps had vanished in the distance, “We are safe now.” Sub-Zero was the first one to speak up as he and others got up from the grass as Dempsey looked to where the hunter Furthers had gone.
“What the f#$% is a Further?” P!Dempsey asked as he is now the one questioning this reality as Jin seems hinged by this discovery. “Do you remember that I said I had woken up in a house with talking animals, Dempsey?” she asked as he placed her hand on his shoulder, making him look at her with doubt for his sanity and Jin knew it.
“Those talking animals were Furthers as well,” she responded, “They had the bare intelligence of a regular human being yet they had developed their own language and cultures. They had worshipped the ‘’Gods of the Old World'' as their religion.” she explained as P!Dempsey stared at her.
“Holy sh!t..” he said with disdain, “Richtofen wasn’t kidding about different realities, wasn’t he?”
“Who?” Sub-Zero was confused about who Dempsey was talking about.
Jin looked at Dempsey and then rubbed his shoulder a little, he loosened up a little when he felt it with comfort. “Thanks, Jin.” he sputtered nervously aas he looked at her with comfort in his eyes.
Jin smiled softly but then heard Sub-Zero calling out softly to them, “You two, come over here.” as they turned to notice that he was kneeling on the ground, picking something from it, something glowing faintly of soft blue.
The duo walked over to the Cryomancer as he stood back on his feet while looking at the object in his hand. Without a word, he showed them both of what he had found on the ground. They looked to see that it’s a gem, an ocean blue crystal that is about the size of a quarter.
“I had found this crystal on the ground.” Sub-Zero said as he was looking at the crystal with wariness in his voice. “It was glowing faintly, I am sensing strange energy coming out of it.”
“Do you think this is nuts, Sub-Zero?” Dempsey asked out of disbelief and ignorance at first but the look in Sub-Zero’s eyes had told the different answer. “Oh, right.” he responded under his breath as he looked back down at the crystal once again.
Jin was looking at the inscallfincent crystal, resting in Sub-Zero’s palm as she felt like she needed to take a closer look, as if it was holding a secret that none of them don’t know yet. “Sub-Zero,” she spoke softly as her hand had started to lift upwards and going towards a crystal slowly, “Can I see it please?”
Sub-Zero was weary of what she was doing and was trying to get his hand from hers but she had managed to get the crystal away from the palm of his hand and it was a bit fuzzy soon afterwards.
One moment, she was with the two men in a forest with a small crystal in her hands but the other minute later, she was somewhere else entirely and laying on the ground. The day was nighttime as a hand came into her line of sight yet this hand is not her own.
This hand was wearing a violet purple glove with metallic claw armor on it as it was placed onto her forehead, it took a moment to realize that what is happening is that she is in a memory of someone and she is watching this from their point of view.
Flashback of Blood
The person she was witnessing had then got onto their feet as she had gotten a look of their attire. The ninja yoroi was pink colored with slight cleavage showing as this person is a female.
“Hmmm…” a woman’s voice groaned as it sounded like it was an echo, and looked around “The earthrealm is different now, must to find a few souls…~” she purred that made Jin feel on edge just by hearing this from her as she walked ahead from where she has woken up.
As the moon floated over the bloodbath and nearing those hours of sunlight rising, this woman had performed onto the undead yet she often let out a groan or a moan of disdain when she sniffed or looked at them as if they were not the one that she was hoping to find. What was she trying to find?
“Most of these mortals are undead… I wonder if this realm has warriors left?” she purred in strange interest as she dropped the Black Plague zombie onto the ground as a dark red pool formed from its devastated head.
She then heard twig snapped and she turned to see a Hyena Further with an arrow pointed at her, the moment she saw him and the next thing she heard was a dark giggle coming from the woman, the type was feral but with ill-intent and sounded like her prayer had been answered.
“You dare to raise your weapon to your ruler of Outworld?”
The Hyena Further looked a bit shock at first but didn’t have time to react when the woman lunged out at the helpless hunter with her claws out and Jin haven’t seen what had happened next but she did heard the hunter screaming that soon heard a gurgle as well as with crunching of teeth and flesh tearing apart that made her recoiled.
Soon afterwards, she saw two more Hyena hunters with bows and arrows on their person. One of them is a man and a woman hyenas as the female hunter looked concerned.
“Juju?” she asked, “What is wrong, we heard screaming.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[Two comic strips are drawn by SamPostStuff on Tumblr]
A crunch only answered them, Jin turned to see what it was as they stopped and the other readied the arrow, willing to fight but they both froze in horror. Jin cringed at the sight before her.
The same hand was holding the corpse of their comrade before dropping it onto the ground with blood on its palm as Jin had gotten a good look at the woman’s face; it looked like something that any child would scream in terror in their dreams.
Her face was drizzled in blood as sharp needle teeth were on the outside of her lips and cheeks, forming a mouth, her eyes a golden yellow with short black hair flowing freely.
“She really is real…” she heard a male hyena mumble to his friend in pure shock, “Our queen.” is the only thing that he finished the sentence with.
The woman- no, this creature smiled grisly, “Ah yes, I am your ruler.” she spoke with such atrocious tempting bliss, “Your Queen Mileena.” as Hyenas are trembling in fear.
“W-We…” the lady hyena began to explain themselves with a catch of breath, “We are so sorry, we… We have no idea it’s you.”
“Or even say that it’s-” the lady hyena immediately covered her friend’s mouth before he could finish.
“It is only a shock,” She said as she understood yet the look of her eyes can seem like they would hold potential, “I will let this mistake go for now.” Mileena responded as she lifted up what looked like a windpipe and with one chomb, she ate it, blood flowed through her mouth and dropped onto the ground.
“But for now, I have something for you to do.”
That was the last thing she heard before everything around her had gone into white.
“Jin? Jin!”
A familiar voice had ringed in her eyes, Jin was on the ground and being held by a man wearing a familiar jacket, it’s Dempsey.
She was being held in his arms as she, Primis Tank and Sub-Zero as the sun was over them and in noon time. “T-Tank?” she spoke up in pure confusion as she placed a hand on her forehead, “What happened?”
“After ya took that crystal,” Dempsey started to explain the situation, “you just collapsed when it glowed for a little bit.” as Sub-Zero had removed his mask once again and held the crystal yet he’s making sure that it's as far from her as possible this time.
Jin seemed lost for a moment when she looked at them both, but then remembered back the dream she had for a short time with the woman, Mileena, and Hyena Furthers worshipped her as their ruler- a goddess even. As if she was the one they were waiting for god only knows how long.
But she has to know how long she was out like a light, how long was she dreaming exactly before that first, she turned over to Sub-Zero and questioned him, “how long was I out?”
“Only nearly an hour, Jin,” he answered.
“Yeah, while you were asleep. We had to pray it out of your hand since you were holding onto it tight.” P!Dempsey added further.
“I see…” she muttered softly as she looked at the ground again, the two men looked concerned now for Jin as the birds were chirping sweetly in the green and yellow trees around them as the wind danced smooth as butter.
“Let me guess for you,” Dempsey responded a bit more gently than usual, “You had a hell of a dream when you passed out.”
Jin looked at him with a slight jump from her stupor yet nodded, “How did you see?” Sub-Zero questioned her, “From the start of it, how much did this crystal have foretold to you?”
Jin with what little strength she had in her gut, she told them about it in little detail of the dream regarding the comprehensiveness of itself to them but she had noticed that Sub-Zero looked troubled when she had mentioned Mileena’s name, in fact, he looked like he never wanted to hear this name from someone else, ever.
Dempsey took notice of them as well as Sub-Zero had stood up and then walked from them a bit, giving them some space between himself and the two. “Hey, ya alright there?”
“I am fine, marine.” was Sub-Zero’s response.
“Ya sure, you seemed like you know this Mileena chick.”
Sub-Zero turned to look at them with his eyes glowing again but calmed down right away when he drew in a breath and exhaled it. “She was the creation of Shang Tsung, who was an ally to the former Emperor of Outworld itself.”
“Outworld? The one where Erron was from?”
“Erron Black?” Sub-Zero was surprised to hear that, “He was here as well?”
“Of course.”
Sub-Zero looks down for a moment, thinking of what is happening and how much of this revelation has unraveled itself. “There is going to be another tournament,” he thought without doubt but he is quite skeptical of what Mileena’s intentions are. He doubts she could be capable of doing this; kidnapping people from their own realms and into this one, unknown as uncharted.
“...Does anyone but us here?”
“I dunno.” Dempsey said uncertianingly, “All we know, that there most of us are from our universes alone or in a group that’s brought in this hellhole, Sub-Zero.”
Sub-Zero then turned his body to them both and responded “Mileena will be my responsibility to take care of, you two need to get back to your camp right away.” he then started to travel to the direction where he believed the Hyenas had gone too.
“Hey, where the f$%^ are you going?” he yelled after the shinobi who doesn't stopped walking, “I’m going to find their queen.’” as his arms are covered in frost.
Primis Dempsey was watching him go when he noticed that Jin was trying to stand up, “Ya think you can still walk?” he asked while he stood up, helping her onto her feet. “I think so, Tank.” she simply answered from her dizziness from the crystal's influence, legs wobbling like jelly.
She stumbled but she was grabbed by Dempsey when she nearly fell over, “Hey,” he said, “Don’t push yourself too much.”
“I wasn’t trying too.” she replied, holding on her arm while she’s trying to adjust her balance. When she got hold of her footing, she let go of the marine and then tried walking again but this time, one step at a time.
Still, Dempsey is walking beside her in case of her falling again while she was walking as they went through the way they came in, they walked past the tree line and back to the frozen graveyard of the green flu zombies.
They kept an eye out for anything that moved as they carefully walked past them as Dempsey noticed something that made him realize; the sun was hot enough to melt the ice on a hot summer day and the ones that had been turned into frozen statues were dripping water.
“They’re melting…” he muttered, catching Jin’s attention. “What?”
“These freakbags.”
Jin looked around and saw the ice that jailed them was melting into slush, even the big one, a hulking muscle with normal human legs and big arms that nearly overgrown its fingers. They noticed it was moving a bit by the minute soon afterwards a second.
They walked fastly past the major zombie as the ice was cracking as its arms were vibrating, it was going to break away from the ice in a moment and they both knew it just by looking at it. The popping and snapping of the cryogenic ice getting louder, before they knew it, Tank had said “MOVE!”
He pushed Jin forward as the ice finally gave way, soon afterwards a roar from the creature as its hands, now freed, smashes onto the ground, making the ground rumble under them and they stumble from the impact.
P!Dempsey got out his assault rifle and then immediately opened fire on the giant thing but as blood sprayed off of it’s pale too-much built body, it had no effect and that seemed to enraged the creature.
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[Drawn by This-Person-is-slowly-dying and AlphaKing]
“Dempsey, get away from that thing!” Jin yelled as the big fella began to charge at the two on it’s knuckles and feet, similar to an angry gorilla ready to destroy whatever had tried to kill its mate and his kid.
He let out a curse and then turned to run from the beast, while they heard it growling. Soon, they heard the ground rumble behind them, Tank turned to see what was going on but soon regretted doing so because this thing had pulled a rock from the ground, hanging it over its head.
“Jin, incoming!” He ran faster and tackled Jin to the ground just as the big boulder was thrown and went over them, smashing onto a nearby car, even though it had aged over 500 years but it is shocking part of this is that its siren had sounded as they looked up. As if it does it despite the age of time.
Soon afterwards, the screeching of the damned was heard from a distance faintly but grew louder as they got back up and soon after he aimed at the incoming horde infected by the Green Flu Virus as he asked Jin “Run or fight?”
She looked at him confused but soon she was brought back by the big creature’s roaring as it was powering through the horde to get to them first before they did.
Dempsey repeated himself loudly.
“Run or fight?”
Jin has already decided on the answer already; she responded “Both.”
He had no time to argue with her so he and she turned to run towards a road, heading towards a hospital while an army of Green Flu zombies closed in the gap as they ran while Tank turned to open fire on them, splitting their heads open, painting the ground in red before turning to keep running.
“F#%^ off, you maggot-asses! Along with that Tank too!” He taunted them, but he is mostly taunting towards the now nicknamed big beast that’s catching up to them more than the horde.
Jin shook her head with raised brow as they reached the hospital, the glass of the doors was long since broken down long ago so they are able to get through them with no trouble but with each answers, it has pros and cons to solve any problems; the con was that there is no barricade to keep the riff-raff out.
Jin had got out her hair ornament from her hair but then she felt a nudge on her arm, she turned to see Dempsey holding a revolver, “Take this!” he ordered her as Jin used her other hand to take it.
“Ever use that gun?”
“I had never used it on a person!”
He fired on a couple of zombies coming closer, he turned his head to her and responded “Well, the best thing to do is to aim for the head.” he then looked at them, he had often felt safe with barricades but he knew that this time it's the opposite, the doors without wood boards and he does not like it.
“Sh!t… What should we do now?”
“I am working on it…”
Just when the horde and the Tank are coming closer, the intercom had rung to life and a new voice came through, it was a different male Australian accent like Sniper’s.
“Oi!” the voice called out, making them look at the intercom with shock and confusion, “Ya two are not one of the Green Flu bastards, are ya?” Then they heard a ding, they turned to look at an elevator opening up with the dimmed light glowing from its ceiling. “Come in the elevator if ya want to live!”
They looked at each other, then they turned to look at the incoming horde and the Tank that is posing through it like a runaway bull attacking anything that has red all over a group of people.
The choices were: Either be killed by the rabid horde and eaten or get in the elevator to where this voice is in one of the five floors.
They looked at each other again and then at the horde before they decided the latter: they ran in the elevator and Dempsey slammed the filth floor button and they readied themselves as the common infected ran inside as the doors hastily closed in.
They are watching them heading towards them as the moving doors closed up and hearing them banging on the doors as they go upward. They ascended upwards as the arrow slowly moved towards and crossed each number as the little moment of relief washed over them, “Holy sh!t….” he muttered, “Never seen anything like that…”
“The horde of the undead or that big creature that could rival a Panzer Soldat?”
“The big guy.” he answered, placing the revolver back in his Back-Pit device and holding his head a little.
“Still, do ya see what it has been doing?”
Jin nodded as she looked down at the ground. “It had thrown the zombies out of the way to get to us,” she softly said, “I can not imagine what it will do if it got to us.”
“Properly literally crush us with those arms,” he halfry joked, crossing his arms as he looks at the arrow going over to the number five, indeciting they are getting closer to the floor he selected. “Besides, we’re gonna be alright now.” he said it too soon the moment the elevator dings upon their arrival on the filth floor.
The elevator doors opened up to reveal their “savor”; a cyborg Carcassian man with device over his right eye or at least acted as his eye, a beard, wore no shirt but a strap that form an X across his chest with the device with glowing red glass, army green cargo pants and boots as he appears to be holding something behind his back.
With a smug smirk, he said in the same accent “Ya made the right choice.” before they heard what sounded like a pin being pulled and then he threw a container at them in the elevator before he had put on a gas mask.
The container they were looking at had exploded and a pretuid smell came from before them as they were trying to get away. “Dempsey watch...ou…” Jin had started to say but the smell had gotten to her that caused her to slur her speech and she fell onto the floor.
“Jin!” He ran over to her but his body started to get heavy but his mind was ordering it to keep going as he stumbled towards her as he was trying not to inhale the stench before he too fell down just inches to her.
The world around him had begun to spin as hearing had started to rung in his ears as the man walked over to them then knelt down while Dempsey watched. He chuckled while he looked at the marine as his eyelids were getting more and more heavy and soon, the world had been drowned in darkness.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A soft moan left his lips as he suffered a suffocating headache, he felt like he had drunk too many beers while he had his hand stretched the back of his head as he muttered “Argh…. My head…”
He groggily turned his head over to look around as his mind wondered where he was right now and he saw Jin sleeping by his side, sleeping softly with her head on his shoulder. “J-Jin…?” he mumbled as his mind was swimming from whatever happened to him.
Inspecting her closer, her coat was missing as well with her hair pin and her hair was let down and flowed down her back.
As he tried to remember what had been transferred, he looked down to see that his coat and boiler were missing, as he was in his gray t-shirt.
The feeling had come back to him and came with it was metal and rust, at the base of his neck as he raised an eyebrow at this and had his hand reached to what it was and whatever it was it was around his neck.
He then had another hand on it as it dawned on him with distress; he had a collar around his neck. He turned his head at the wall and saw that he was chained to a wall before he looked at Jin and saw that she was collared as well.
He was on his knees and then grabbed her shoulders. “Jin! Jin! Wake up!” he said as he shook her by the shoulders as her sleep was disturbed, her head swayed as she groaned in strained breath as she opened her eyes and looked at Dempsey in confusion.
“Dempsey?” she groaned as her head was throbbing in pain as she held her head, “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” he said as he noticed that her coat was gone as well. “But it has something to do with that guy, I think we have been ambushed.”
“What?”
“We have been ambushed.” he repeated himself, “Have we been captured?” she asked to which he nodded.
They looked around the room they are in, it was dark but the light is peering through the bars above them and only them, but it did luminated what room it is; the ceiling, the walls and floor are made from stone, with reddish brown and moss on the wall but they hardly could see through the darkness.
“I believe we were in a cell.” Jin stated as she looked at Dempsey. He said nothing but then he sat down beside her again and looked down, “In all honesty,” he started to say, “I had gotten myself into worse sh!t like this.”
“You’d been captured?”
“That and many things that I wished could be a nightmare.”
Jin sighed lightly as she lowered her head, “So do I.” as she held her forehead. “I wished the same as you.” while Dempsey looked at her again. He said nothing but looked at her. He looked at the chains and by the look of them, they haven’t been properly clean for a good long while.
There is something moving from in front of them, the peek through hole opened up and the eyes are peering inside looking at them with a contented look in their eyes.
“They’re awake.” The voice echoed softly in the chamber, those familiar, different eyes of a hyena is no mistake for the two to recognize, they heard the clanking of boots is heard from outside the cell and a voice, a distorted woman’s voice speaking to the Further as he looked at whoever she was. “Open the door please.”
“Yes, your highness.” the hyena complied as he hopped down from the hole, letting a bit of light flowing in for a moment as they heard something unlatching on the other side of the door.
The metal door scraped across the stone floor as the rusted yellow light poured in the room as a figure entered and the cell door closed behind her. The clicking of heels returned once more but this time towards them.
Soon, Mileena came into the light of the barred off hole in the ceiling yet she was noticeably different with a zukin mask as Jin had noticed. The corporal sighed and said “Let me guess, you must be Mileena, right?”
“Of course, you had it right.” she confirmed as he and Jin had backed up to the wall a little bit, leaving space between them and her. “Do you know where you are now, kombatants?”
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[Drawn by Meaghan “Icefir” Halter]
“Your boyfriend, Mileena?” he answered sarcastically, as the chains rattled a little bit behind him with his hand fumbling on the floor for a stone piece that he could use as a weapon in case things could get messy once she got closer.
“Not quite.”
“Hyenas are your army now?”
A giggle as two out of five of her fingers rested on her mask, it was not a good sign as she continued.
“Much so, fair lady.” Mileena responded, “In fact, I am really joyful that they made me their ruler yet honored to have you both here. Even though what I am going to do next may seem… horrible.” she sounded a bit sad when she said this, the marine could mentally roll his eyes at this.
“Must’ve been one hell of an honor to be here, mind telling us what are you about to do to us?”
“Kano had brought this up, I figured that I could at least try-” Mileena had stopped herself when she looked over to him, hesitancy in her eyes when she noticed quite prequitrity.
“Hold a minute,” she started to say, “You looked familiar to me.” She leaned closer to him as he tried to back up but he went into a wall so he was trapped between it and her. “Did I see you before?”
Jin looked over in confusion towards Dempsey as he muttered “I am just one of those faces that just don't like being in a sh!t hole situation like this…!”
Mileena didn't seem to believe but she pulled herself away from him as she shook that thought away, “It doesn’t matter,” she simply replied to his statement, even if it’s barely audible from a man.
“In the next few hours, one will be taken and the other to the tournament.” Mileena explained, “One out of two of you here.”
Dempsey spat out “Like hell that we are going to,” as he gritted his teeth, keeping his eyes trained on Mileena, “You’re stuck here the same as us in this world.”
Another giggle from the deranged woman before this, he had enough of this and he said loudly “What’s so god damned funny?”
“Not too familiar with Mortal Kombat, have you yet?” she asked as her hands reached the back of her head and then began to untie the straps that are holding the zukin mask itself.
“Yeah, someone had told us about it.”
“Oh.” she said as she managed to untie the straps and then took it off. Tank’s eyes grew in shock and disgust but his voice didn’t go out of his mouth as usual, only silence rained down on him as he looked at Mileena before himself and Jin.
“Then you knew how it would end, didn't you?~” she spoke coldly as a tongue slithered out similar to a snake’s as the door opened once again behind her.
-Back at the camp-
Erron glanced over his shoulder for the group of savagers as they are arriving back but yet, he was a little concerned that Jin isn’t with them.
“Where’s-”
“It was a nightmare!” Soldier cuts Erron off, “Gordon had scared off all of the strange-looking deer!” as Gordon had an annoyed expression on his face along with Demoman as the Outworlder can clearly see.
Erron lets out a sigh, “What exactly happened?” to the only two men of the hunting group that are sanerer than this man with low intelligence.
“Gordon was being a quiet boy the whole time when he was hunting the deer. That's clearly different from normal but Soldier is the one who scared them off.” Demoman explained briefly while Gordon Freeman nodded at the end of it.
Another sigh, “I thought so.”
“But cowboy, have you seen Jin anywhere?” Soldier asked as he looked around the front yard, Erron was going to ask them that question in all honesty before he was interrupted.
“I thought that she was with you boys.”
“The lass was with us but we couldn’t find her.”
“Do you know where you last saw her?” Erron asked more.
“We had split up to salvage more items,” Gordon once again said, “I think she went inside a local pharmacy.”
Erron crosses his arms as Ultimis Richtofen came out of the background with Frisk in tow and loudly asked “Have you all seen zhe marine anyvhere?!”
“Wasn’t he here?” he asked with his hand on his forehead once again.
“I had sent Frisk to go find him but zhey couldn’t find him.” he informed them.
“Two people had gone missing.” Erron groaned in frustration, “Last thing anyone wants.”
“Zhen ve have to find zhem!” Ultimis Richtofen announced with pride, sounded less concerned, “Ve can’t leave zhis city of zhe undead vithout zhem, I cannot imagine zhe fates zhey are going through.”
“And we are coming too!” Cuphead said this as he ran out but was stopped at the last minute by Demoman as he picked him up by the handle of his head and turned him around towards the house as he said “No more getting into troubles, and more staying put where it is safe.” as he points at the opened door as Cuphead moaned in disappointment and walked back while Demoman and others watched.
Soldier looked over to his friend and said “You are much more different than you usually are.”
Demoman only chuckled as he shook his head.
No one had failed to notice but the air had gotten cold all of suddenly as they felt it. “Hm?” U!Richtofen muttered as he looked around, “Zhe air is getting colder all of sudden?”
“Doc, it’s impossible,” Demoman stated, “This city was once a desert, ya know.”
“Oh blah blah blah, zhis place can have winters as vell.”
Erron somewhat remained quiet as he was staring something before them, “Frisk, get behind me and into the house.” he commanded, as he shushered them to go inside as others had begun to notice.
“Kuai Liang.” Erron said as he watched Sub-Zero walk over to the group as his eyes were trained on Erron Black. “Erron Black.”
They both stare at each other, Erron had his hand on the handle of his revolver, ready to pull it out of the hoister as frost is visible on the shinobi's hands. “You do understand that I didn’t come here to fight, Erron.”
“I do know that fact,” Erron said as he had his hand up to stop the others from advancing further, “And let me guess this, you don’t remember how you got here too?
“Yes.” Kuai bows as Frisk, Cuphead, Mugman and Bendy are watching the encounter from inside the house, looking worried and concerned of what’s to come.
“Hallo uh, Kuai Liang, is it?” Ultimis Richtofen had spoke up as he walked to stand by Erron for a moment as he looked at Sub-Zero, “You must’ve seen a man und woman by zhis point before you came here, am I right?” he questioned, “One vith brown hair und jacket, zhe other with black hair, fairly pretty skin?”
“You must be speaking of Dempsey and Jin.” Kuai Liang answered as he looked at the German, “I assume they are with you?”
“Oh ja!~” he happily said, “Zhose two teammates of ours, do you seen them?”
“I had left them behind in Suncrest when I had to follow a group of Further Hyenas to see if Mileena was truly here.”
“Mileena is here too?” Erron looked at Sub-Zero who had dropped that bombshell on him, hoping this was just a joke but it’s true as he nodded. “And she leads the what?”
“Further Hyenas.” Kuai answered, “And appearty, it's not just hyenas that are affected by this “Forbidden Water.” they spoke off. They became somewhat an intelligent animal humanoid species after something horrible befell onto the earthrealm or this earthrealm is what they had made their home now.”
“Do they know what caused this?”
“The Incident, involving all five different plagues that includes the one you are currently facing and an entity they called “The Broken.””
“Oh!” U!Richtofen chimed in, “A woman had told about zhis lady but not in full detail about her.” as Sub-Zero looked at him once again. “Has she said anything about the Broken.”
“If she had- Haha!” the Doctor triumphed with delight, “She had taken at least 12 of us avay into another plane of existence or in your vords, another “Earthrealm '' you called it. Und zhis Broken vould drive zhem into insanity or death if I had to put in more details.”
“I will share what I have learned later,” Sub-Zero looked at Erron once again “Are there other warriors here?”
“A bunch,” Erron shrugged, “All of them are different worlds and timelines but it could be enough to bring this bloodthirsty daughter of Shao Kahn down.”
“Und most of us were from our own universes ve called home,” Ultimis Richtofen as Erron raised the revolver a little threateningly but it does seem to silence the Doctor by this much.
“I see.” Kuai nodded, “we must need a plan before we could jump into battle.”
“Ya know, for once, you could be right.”
As being said, Kuai was led into the backyard as others were getting ready to leave the city as the kids were peeking outside to watch others meeting the newcomer. “So, you had met them after encountering a different infection type?”
“But of course,” Kuai answered Bruno’s question, “But I wanted them to be out of harm's way when I did find her.”
“Can you take us to the last spot you left them at, at least?” Scout said with chagrin, “We just lost enough already.”
Sub-Zero made an ickle in response and spoke in a threatening tone “We are getting to that point, young man. Show patience.”
“Are you saying that one of your- their own were captured?” Radec asked as he and his remaining men were being watched over by Takeo while he was keeping a close eye on them while he was cleaning his sword.
“I fear so.” Kuai responded as he crushed the ickle into small pieces, “And you must be Mael Radec from what I am told of.”
“Colonel Mael Radec,” Radec corrected, as he stood up and he was a little bit intrigued that this ninja could barely reached his height, “Our homeworld is Helghan and as off right now-”
“They are trapped here with us,” Takeo interrupted as he had a rag that seemed to be used multiple times to count as he cleaned off the blood crusted onto the blade. Sub-Zero looked at the samurai and he somewhat resembled Hanzo in a way but in World War I form.
Takeo continued “And yet, we had a solution to escape this hell together, uninfected and unharmed.”
“Tak’s right about that.” Frank added “Since for some reason, these zombies can’t literally get out of the state of Utah, as if something is keeping them inside.”
“A tree’s spell…” Sub-Zero muttered as he looked down at the ground and yet, it was audible barely for Frank West to hear.
“What’s that?”
“It is nothing.” he shook his head, as Ultimis Richtofen walked over to him, “I am zhe most curious of you, Mr. Liang,” he said as he looked at the man of ice as he looked at him with an raised brow.
“From vhat I see from you, zhe frost on your arms und hands vithout any trouble at all!” he exclaimed as he took a hold of his arm to get a better look as if he was inspecting a snore or something else that could be intriguing.
“How do your arms vere at normal temperatures instead of breaking apart?” Ultimis Richtofen squeezed his bicep a little to feel the difference, the muscle felt soft yet it is the normal type of soft when you could feel when you squeeze the skin and muscle on your forearm.
“It is only magic, Doctor Richtofen.” Sub-Zero only answered as he pulled his arm away, “I am a cryomancer as I had trained to control the ice magic.”
“I see.” Ultimis Richtofen placed a finger under his chin, he now looked more fascinated by this fact. “Und how do you train?”
“I was the student before I became the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei.” he replied as he turned away and then walked away from the German as he felt like he needed to get a healthy distance away from that man as far as possible.
Something about him was.. Unhinged, he thought.
Others had gathered, talking about something to do after they rescued their allies and escaping Fallen City as they are getting their weapons while Erron is discussing the plan as Kuai will lead them to where he had met Dempsey and Jin.
Sniper and Demoman are talking about what they should do with their prisoners if they make it out of the city infested with the walking dead, then something else that caught his attention however.
“Did ya notice that one of them was missing, laddie?”
“One was missing?” Sniper looked up to have his eyes facing Demo’s only one with stupefaction.
“There were seven of them last night when Bruno took over Bendy’s nightwatch.”
Sniper raised a brow and looked over the Demolimation’s Expert to look at the giant Frenchman and then looked back to Demoman.
“Did one of them escape while on his watch, Talvish?”
“I doubt that, Snipe.” Demoman answered, “Jin had said that she found him slowly regaining consciousness when she found this.”
“Regaining his nongs?” Sniper quizzed, as he tilted his hat a little to rub his fingers on his forehead, “Was his noggin hit by one of them?”
“Ah no,” Talvish shook his head no, “No bruise or a cut on his head whatsoever when she checked on him. Whatever happened to him must’ve been slippery like Spy was.”
“Mate, that is impossible,” the Australian refused to believe his teammate. “If he was knocked out, there could be a-”
“No no no, Sniper,” Demo shook his hand to halt him from speaking his thoughts out, “He had recalled he felt something plunging into his back before he blacked out.”
Kuai Liang didn’t hear the rest as he was already going to find Bruno as he is peculiar about it. He didn’t have to waste time to find him to see if it is true, he may not be with them on the night it happened but he needs to check on what he believed to be an injury. It didn't take him too long to find him when he checked at the withering apple tree and found him sharpening the knife.
“Bruno.” he got his attention as the large man looked at him, the carasian raised a brow and said “Oui, Kuai Liang?”
“Please understand that I am only curious but I heard you’re knocked out while on watch but you were not hit in the head.”
Bruno said nothing but he did nod that confirmed Sub-Zero’s suspicion, the cryomancer walked over to the giant with the understanding look on his face and went behind him as the Frenchman looked at him with further confusion.
“What are you doing-?”
“Do you remember what you felt before you passed out?”
Bruno only responded by looking down, “It felt like something had stabbed me in the back. Like a bee sting.”
“A bee sting, you say?” he said as he pulled the collar of his shirt down a bit as the Frenchman tried to look over his shoulder.
“I do not give you permission to search me.” Bruno interjects but Sub-Zero relents as he pulls it down a bit more and he sees something on the bottom of his neck, near the right shoulder on the tanned skin: It’s a small red dot. It was small enough as if a syringe had poked through and into the flesh.
“What are you looking at?”
“A sting dot,” Kauai answered as he looked at him, “A stab wound small enough to be an injection.”
“I was injected?” Bruno turned to look at him, “With what, exactly, Kauai Liang?”
“Possibly a drug enough to knock a person out yet only someone could be quiet and quick enough to plunge a syringe into you without ease.”
Kuai then had his fingers on his chin, the stable hair brushing against them gingerly, “It could be one of these ‘’Helghast” prisoners you captured.”
“It’s impossible, Kauai Liang.” Bruno denied, “All of them were asleep when I took a watch after the dinner last night.”
Kuai raised an eyebrow at this, looking at the giant before him and asked “If it is not one of them, then who?”
A raven cawed from behind them as they turned to see it flew over to a shed with the old wooden double doors as they were opened just a crack yet the raven was able to wedge between and go inside with no trouble.
Kuai signed Bruno into staying quiet as they unhurriedly walked over the shed on alert as each step drew them closer before they could know it but they stopped when a smell of death hit them both.
Bruno reinched from it, he knew what he was smelling, he was too familiar with the death before and after his time with a gang of thugs and this was a smell of the recently deceased, not the rotting decayed corpse of a zombie.
Kuai knew what Bruno believed to be too as he saw his hand stretched out and then grabbed one of the doors and then pulled it towards them, letting light flood inside the interior of the shed and the sight that greeted them was desolate and horrid.
It was one of the prisoners but what happened is just a grim death. Nothing to say but they noticed the man was stripped of the chest plate and cut open in the chest. Bruno gagged from the sight and turned from it as Kuai did the same with his eyes closed in uncanny disgust.
Bruno looked at him with hairs on the back of his neck raised and said “I think we now know what happened to him.”
Kuai nodded as he said nothing, something like this had the part of him believing it could be one of a Tarkatan or Mileena would do but the other part of himself had believed it could be someone else. Before the latter would say anything, U!Richtofen yelled for anyone to hear.
“Come on now! Ve are now going to get zhem!”
The two men looked at each other, not saying anything but exchanged looks before they walked away from the shed, silent after what they found. It’s going to take a good courage to tell others what they have discovered yet they are worried whoever disembowled him will be still with them as they know.
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willowistic22 · 4 years
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The pleasure’s all mine... Prince Romeo
A grand party is held in the palace tonight, but one of the royal family member isn’t in the mood to indulge in it like how they’d usually be. Luckily, a stranger comes to save them. It just so happens that this stranger is so dangerously handsome. 
Word count : 4688
Part : -
Warnings : light mentions of alcohol, cursing, and that should be it. it’s nothing too serious. 
A/N: HIIII this is my gift for @s9da (well technically for paranormalsoup... i think you can piece in together why i asked you abt paranormalsoup in the wormsie discord server hehe) for the @newsiesgiftexchange i had fun making this bcs i absolutely love newsies royal au, so i hope you don’t mind i wrote a somewhat self indulgent fic for your gift hehe. it was still spromeo like you asked, but uhh idk i hope you like it bcs half of me think it’s not as great as i thought it was in my head. But anyways enjoy!!! :D
“Romeo! Get your ass out of there!” 
“How long does it take for you to get dressed?!” 
The two muffled voices turned into banging on the door. Romeo rolled his eyes, deciding to ignore his brothers and continuing to adjust his tuxedo in front of his full length standing mirror. 
His bedroom door swung open with no warning. In turns, two boys formally dressed came storming in. 
“Race! Crutchie! You could have at least waited for me to let you two in!” Romeo protested, adjusting sleeves under his dark blue blazer. 
“My God, Ro! You’re not even ready yet!” Crutchie commented, walking over as fast as he could with his crutch to get to where Romeo is standing. He takes the silver tie from the dresser and slings it around Romoe’s shirt collar, “The party is supposed to start right now and you know dad would want all of his sons to be present!”  
“He was probably too busy talking to the cat, weren’t you?” Race flops on the big bed, causing the dozens of velvet pillows to jump. It also seems to have awakened a huge white fluffy cat in the midst of the pillows. 
“Racetrack! Snowy was getting his beauty sleep!” Romeo protested, seeing the scene unfold from the mirror. 
Crutchie flipped both of his brothers off, telling Race to be careful so he doesn’t mess his own outfit up and making Romeo stand still while he helps him get ready. In under five minutes and Romeo is properly dressed just like his brothers. 
Crutchie places Romeo’s crown on top of his black locks, the magnificent silver object goes perfectly with the intricate silver curlicue designs on the shoulder and back of his dark blue blazer. With the tiny silver crown lapel pin and its tiny chain draping on the fabric to wrap up the dashing outfit. 
The three head out of the room. They strut through the grand hallway like it’s a fashion week runway, feeling confident with every step following the red velvet carpet till they reach the grand ballroom decked to the nines just like them. 
A huge chandelier hanging above the open space. A few tables and chairs neatly organized for the awaiting guests but still leaving enough space for a dance floor. The huge glass doors wide open to make use of the huge balcony for the party, also letting the evening breeze through the door. 
“About damn time you three show up!” Jack, the oldest brother exclaimed. 
“Jack! Do mind your language!” Their father protested. 
His three younger brothers walk up onto the podium, greeting their father who’s sitting on the only throne present. 
“It was all Romeo’s fault. He didn’t know how to tie his own tie!” Race joked. 
The brothers have their little silent squabble as they stand behind the throne. Crutchie decides to not get himself involved in it and tries to break it up, “Oh, grow up you guys!” 
Those words did nothing to help. In turn, Crutchie turns to their father in hopes to ignore those three. 
“Jackie-love! Listen to your brother, please!” A different voice chimed in. 
The three turn their focus away towards it and see Jack’s husband already fully dressed up. In a classy dark purple suit with a grey tie in the same shade as Jack’s own suit. 
“We’re celebrating our sixth anniversary and Sarah is finally home from her travels. The least you could do is to keep yourself presentable!” 
Jack pushes aside the squabble, switching on his loving smile for Davey. Romeo and Race pulled away from the squabble right after Jack. Their father silently sighed in relief to see his sons finally deciding to act like fully grown adults. 
He tells the royal guards to let the guests in. In under five minutes, the ballroom was instantly filled with guests in formal attire. Some fill their assigned seats for the dinner that was promised in the invitation while others mingle with each other. The band, playing lovely tunes loud and clear but it wasn’t time for the guests to get up and dance. 
The princes have also indulged themselves in the party. Jack and Davey can be seen mingling with the guests they’ve invited, listening to their congratulations on their sixth anniversary. Crutchie has gone to god knows where, which is surprising because he’s wearing a flashy yellow and black suit in the midst of all the mostly dull colored outfits in the ballroom. Race had gone off to fulfilling his promise to their father of introducing his new lover, the future king of Brooklyn. 
Romeo is left to slump on the round table with leftovers sitting idly on his plate. An odd thing for him to do, and he’s quite aware of it too. Romeo adores mingling, making new friends, or even catching up with some old friends that he has indeed spotted somewhere amongst the crowd this evening. Though, his energy to do so doesn’t seem to be there in this particular moment. 
The young prince watches from afar as his big brother finally introduces Spot Conlon to their father. Spot’s dark red suit is really contrasting to Race’s own outfit, a bright blue suit with golden curlicue designs on the shoulders and back which is a bit like Romeo’s. It matches perfectly with his blond messy curls and electric blue eyes. 
Romeo smiles, seeing his brother’s face lighting up as their father seemingly approves of the dashing Brooklyn boy that he has so helplessly fallen in love with for the past two years. Romeo doesn’t linger on it though. He returns his focus towards his empty table and plate, a sad smile painting his face as he observes his own reflection on the ceramic. 
“Well, aren’t you the life of the party!” A voice interrupted his thoughts, causing him to lift his head up, “But if I do say so myself, and I mean no offense to his royal highness, you’re quite the tragic sight sitting here all alone” 
His eyes landed on a gentleman standing proud and tall in a maroon suit, a black tie neatly tucked under his blazer. His complexion reminded Romeo of the topaz rocks in some of the castle’s intricate decorations, rich with brown but always glowing bright with the rest of the gems. In this case, his glow comes from the simple smile and the lovely brown eyes behind the silver framed spectacles. 
The initial comment brought a smile to Romeo’s face and a little laugh along with it. He fixes his sitting posture, eyeing the stranger with a head tilt while his head tries to figure out who this guest could be. 
“And you’re what? Here to be my savior from my little slump?” Romeo replied to match with the stranger’s cleverness. 
Seeing the success his opening line has brought, the gentleman pulls out an empty chair next to Romeo and sits himself down, “Well, you’re the prince here. Whatever it is you command me to be, I’m pretty sure I need to follow” 
Romeo lets out a small fit of laughter through his smile, looking away from the man’s eyes. It also makes the stranger laugh along with him. 
Romeo returns his sight back to the man in front of him. He walked right into a gaze-off he cannot look away from. In no means for intimidation, but a brief yet firm infatuation through the art of eye contact with the man he just met. Only now did Romeo realize how dangerously handsome this stranger is. 
“Romeo!” The call of his name pulled him away from the gaze and back to the world around him. 
He spots Crutchie zipping through the crowd. A smile painted on his face, just as bright as the yellow and black suit he’s currently rocking in. Romeo stands up to give his brother a hug. 
“I see you’ve met one of my friends from the lab!” Crutchie gestured back to the stranger Romeo was just previously speaking to, already slightly bowing his head to pay his respects to the two members of the royal family. 
“Oh, you work in the lab!” Romeo concluded, turning back to face the stranger who’s already on his feet. 
“Yeah. We call him Specs!” Crutchie giggled, making the other man laugh along while Romeo looks back to where he’s currently standing, “And Specs, this is my brother, Romeo!” 
Specs pulls up a simple smile for Romeo and a firm head nod. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you two!” Crutchie apologized, a few moments after remembering they were previously having a conversation. He adjusts his crutch to get ready to leave, “I’ll leave you two to it, okay?” 
Romeo watches as his brother walks away to mingle into another group. It leaves him with the previous gentleman he was talking to. The only differences now, he’s not much of a stranger anymore. 
“So... That’s what they actually call you? ‘Specs’?” 
“Well, it’s because, if you can’t already tell…” 
Specs gestures towards his spectacles that rests on the bridge of his nose. Romeo chuckles, playfully rolling his eyes. But the smile tells Specs he’s still in the clear from offending a royal family member. 
“What’s your actual name? Unless you don’t have one” 
He laughs, parting his lips to let it out before saying, “It’s Julian. But now people mostly refer to me as Specs” 
Romeo nods, staring directly into his sparkly brown eyes. Whatever is gleaming under it is very inviting, and Romeo isn’t opposed to this mysterious invitation. He’s rather pleased by its presence. Before he knows it he’s already engaged with it, letting his own obsidian gemstone eyes linger in the gaze. 
“A pleasure to meet you... Specs” 
“The pleasure’s all mine... Prince Romeo” 
Soon enough the sun has fully set. The night sky takes over the heavens above, thread by sparkling pearls to break up the deep blue. But the party didn’t stop. The royal family’s favorite performer, Ms. Medda Larkin, has finally arrived in the most fashionably late way. Her grand entrance was welcomed with warm arms by King Denton himself. 
With the presence of the superstar, the band picked up its lack of entertainment as Ms. Medda picked up the microphone after a quick dinner. The jazzy upbeat tune sends all the guests roaring for the dance floor. 
Romeo though? He has his own entertainment, in the huge balcony by the bar with his own partner. 
“No dance?” 
Romeo pries his eyes away from the dance floor he’s observing from outside. He glues them onto Specs, leaning his shoulder on the shiny bar top while twirling his glass of scotch. 
Romeo shakes his head, making a semi weird face, “Not really up for it” 
“Huh, you’re nothing like what Prince Charlie says” Specs commented, taking a gulp from his glass to finish his drink off, “He says that you’re very energetic and flirty” 
The comment makes him scoff through his smile, “I can’t say that he’s wrong. But… I’m just not feeling it tonight” 
The little silence between them is giving Romeo the impression that he should explain even further. But he takes this chance to finish his own drink and change the subject, “So, you work in Crutchie’s lab?”  
The subject of Specs’ profession quickly did the trick. It also reveals some basic facts about him. As it turns out, Davey was the one that pushed him to work in the royal lab. He’s been friends with Davey since college and has been partners in crime ever since. Davey was first to get the job as a chemical engineer at Crutchie’s lab after a year of switching jobs to match his preferences, while Specs was still continuing his studies for a masters degree. Since he’s been an A+ student at a young age, the first application he sent got him the call for the job interview and got in quickly. 
Romeo was very impressed by the story. Half way through it he starts to question as to why he’s been given the honor to talk to Specs. There is no way Specs is anywhere close to Romeo's league. 
Regardless, Specs doesn’t seem to question all of that. While there’s a noisy ballroom in the background, they’re having a party of their own. Smiling, laughing, and basically having a great time in their private little universe. Romeo is very much infatuated by the gentleman and wouldn’t want anything in the world to ruin the moment. 
“Y’know, you should probably just drop all the formalities at this point” Romeo lightly mentioned, between sipping his third drink he had only touched after half an hour upon asking the bartender for one, “It’s just me” 
“Just you?” Specs questioned, lips wrapping up into a warm smile that makes Romeo’s heart melt. 
He froze in place, admiring the wonder to behold. It makes Romeo smile wider as he slowly nods at the question. 
Before he could say anything else, the loud sound coming from inside took over their center of attention. A loud cheering of guests over something neither Specs or Romeo knows about, as the view was blocked by dozens of backs. 
Romeo turns his head away from it, focusing back to where he is currently at. He glances over at Specs and says, “Let’s get out of here” 
Specs looks back at Romeo, a little confused with his offer, “And go where, exactly?” 
Romeo sips the remaining liquid in his glass, setting it back with a loud clang against the bar top. He spontaneously grabs Specs’ hand and drags him away, leading him to the stairs on the side of the huge balcony. With every step down, the twinkling Manhattan view slowly fades away from their eyes. 
It was soon replaced by the view of the royal garden in the dark. A cobblestone path stretching to as far as the eyes can see in the dark, pass the green trees with overgrowing plants hanging over it, and various shapes of bushes strategically placed all around the settlement. The smell of the grass is so fresh and different, unlike anything Specs has ever encountered before. 
However, Romeo drags him to the other direction. They walked under a dimly lit tunnel, under where the balcony and the ballroom is. They can barely see each other in this kind of lighting, though Romeo’s crown was able to let the tiniest ray of light reflect on its figure. At the end of the tunnel, they can see an opening which would lead them to the center of the palace where another garden is located. 
“Where are we going, if I may ask?” Specs returned to his previous unanswered question. 
“Just… around, I guess” 
The two smile at each other, Specs nodding along to whatever bullshit he was just fed but still getting entertained by it anyways. 
“So… are you gonna tell me why you decide to detach yourself from the party?” 
So he noticed. Well, it isn’t like Romeo has been sneaky about it but he was hoping it wouldn’t be brought up. 
“That party isn’t for me so…” Romeo started, fiddling the hem of his blazer, “... It didn’t felt right if I were to mingle in there” 
“Because that party wasn’t for you?” 
Romeo stops in his tracks, realizing how wrong that sounds, “Okay, wait, I take that back umm…” 
“No, it’s okay if you’re a little… self centered” Specs half teased. 
Romeo scoffs at that, playfully shoving his arms with his shoulders that sends the taller boy laughing. He recollects his composure and re-explains himself, “I mean… Jack, Race, and Crutchie are up there because they have…’something’” 
The two continue to walk through the tunnel, Specs fixated to Romeo as he explains himself. 
“You see Jack, already living up to his reputation from being a good leader. Charismatic, fearless, all of that. He’s just waiting for our father to step down from the throne so he can unleash his full potential” Romeo started out, which made no sense to Specs question but he kept listening anyways, “And then you got Race. However big of a dumbass and a troublemaker he is, he’s smart! He doesn’t work full time at the lab but you’ve seen him there a few times, right?” 
Specs nods, recalling the memory of him seeing prince Anthony while he was working. 
“A great problem solver. Despite being the one that causes the most problems in the castle” Romeo added, making Specs chuckle a bit. He lets himself smile at that but it didn’t linger long. 
“And you know Crutchie. He’s smart and wants nothing more than to help others. Hearing the voices of the little people” Romeo continued. 
He stops walking, causing Specs to do the same. They’ve almost made it through the tunnel, just a few more steps away. The moonlight can reach just far enough to illuminate their faces and highlight their main features. 
Romeo looks up to the other boy, “I’m almost 23 and I haven’t really done shit” 
Specs fully turns his body towards Romeo, his words from before finally clicking in his head. 
“I thought you were a performer” Specs said, “Isn’t that something to be proud of?” 
“It is something I’m proud of. But people talk, Specs” 
His older brothers are famous for what they’ve achieved that are viewed as ‘useful’ with their title as royalty. Romeo, on the other hand, is a famous Broadway performer. Whether it’s playing the lead role, a side character, or just a part of the ensemble, no one will deny his talent. But people still talk badly about his title mixed with his love for theatre. 
Specs stays silent while waiting for Romeo to continue. He let’s Romeo walk out the tunnel first, letting the glow of the night illuminate his whole body along with the garden he’s in. Though, his heart doesn’t seem to be enjoying it the way that he should. 
Romeo turns around to face Specs, already slowly stepping out of the shadows of the tunnel. He takes his crown off his head, letting it dangle freely in his right hand, “Living here has its perks. But the downside is people expect you to be a leader of some sort” 
The taller boy stands next to Romeo, observing one side of the castle. The bright lights from the chandeliers clear as day through the huge windows. 
“So you’re really going to let the stupid comments old people say about you affect the rest of your life?” Specs questioned, letting a small smile creep up his face, “I mean, you’re the one that gets all the girls drooling” 
“I guess, but I prefer guys anyways” Romeo half chuckled, his smile yet to return. 
“Then it looks like the odds are with me” Specs said in a cheeky manner, taking a few steps ahead of Romeo. 
It caught him off guard. He dumbfoundedly stared at the boy for a good few seconds while his back was facing him. Heart beating very fast. Heat rising up his cheeks. The corner of his lips picks up on the tiniest bit of joy and excitement his heart is indulging in. 
Specs turns around and Romeo shakes away any obvious adoration towards the boy, pretending to admire his crown in his grasp. 
“I mean, I think you’re a very talented actor” 
“So you’re a fan?” Romeo asked cleverly, looking up to meet his eyes again while placing his crown back on his head, “Is that why you came up to me in the first place?” 
“Among other things… yes” 
Well, that’s something to know. 
Romeo and Specs roam around the garden in the dark, though they stay quiet in fear that other people might hear their presence. The laughing felt more personal and heartfelt when it’s secretive like this. Somehow Romeo is falling out of his usual confident nature, getting shier with every giggle that escapes their lips or clever remark Specs added on to the conversation. 
Romeo brought up the idea for the two to head to his bedroom after spotting a glimpse of his balcony on the second floor. Well, from the ground it’s three floors up. Regardless, they were still able to utilize their environment to work in their favor on climbing to the balcony. 
Romeo avoided entering his bedroom because it was embarrassingly messy. So they stayed where they are, carefully sitting on the balcony railing and continuing their conversation. They picked it up so easily that they’re soon laughing together like before. This time, they get a view of the garden below, a glimpse of Manhattan, and closer to the night sky. The warmth of his bedroom through the open balcony doorway defeats the freezing temperatures from outside. 
Specs was interrupted mid sentence after an odd feeling came by his leg. Fluffy and warm, like it’s a living being. 
“Who’s this?” Specs looks down to see a white fluffy cat looking back up to him. He gently picks up the white furball and cradles it close to his chest with a loving smile. 
“About time he decides to wake up from his nap” Romeo commented, scooching closer towards Specs so that they’re shoulder to shoulder so he can pet his little feline companion, “His name is Snowy” 
Snowy purrs at the love he’s receiving, giving the two boys long and slow blinks with every pet they provide. 
“Do you have any pets, Specs?” Romeo asked. 
“My apartment doesn’t allow pets. It actually sucks because it can get a little lonely” Specs replied. He lets Snowy go after the cat starts stirring in his grasps. Specs cleans any excessive fur that got stuck on his blazer before turning back towards Romeo, “I’m glad I get to have my own space after needing to live in a foster home for the majority of the time. But I got used to having lots of people around so…” 
“Not courting anybody?” Romeo asked again, “You look like the kind of guy who’d win a lot” 
Romeo you fucking idiot. His mind was yelling at him for saying that. No one with common sense would blatantly say that to someone they just met that day. 
Specs chuckles through his smile, staring at Romeo with a little twinkle hidden in his brown eyes. It could just be the stars from the sky reflecting in his eyes, but it’s not possible because there was a meaning behind his glimmer. 
“Not really my style” Specs replied, a flirtatious smirk making its way up to his face, “Though, I met a guy recently and… I’m trying my best to impress him” 
Oh. My. God. 
Romeo didn’t realize how close their faces were getting. Hot breaths circulate the small gap between their faces. Romeo diverts his eyes away from Specs’, but it absentmindedly went to stare at his lips. He imitated the way Specs has his lips slightly parted. 
“A-and how’s that going for you?” Romeo dared to ask, stopping the gravitational pull towards each other. Any closer and Specs might know how fast his heartbeat is going. 
“Not sure” He replied breathlessly, “You’ll have to tell me” 
If stomach butterflies could explode then that is definitely how Romeo is feeling right now. But they stayed still. Neither quite seem to have the courage to take the next step. 
Specs took the initiative, slowly guiding his hand up to cup Romeo’s cheeks. He then whispers, “Can I-” 
“Romeo!” A muffled voice interrupted their little moment. They quickly pull apart and stare at Romeo’s bedroom door inside the dimly lit bedroom. Violent knocking followed after the voice and it continued, “Romeo, are you in there?” 
It didn’t take long for Specs to catch on to what’s happening. He scrambles himself away behind the brick wall of the balcony, just next to the doorway. Romeo fixes his suit and answers the door. 
Just as he expected it, it was Race. No one in the family knocks as violently as he does. 
“My God, Race! Can I ever get some time alone in my room?” Romeo answered the door. 
“Why are you even in here? You’re supposed to be at the party!” Race said, “Dad was looking for you, y’know” 
“I just needed a little air but I’ll be right there, I promise” 
He flips Race away and turns around, seeing the previous boy he was with coming out of his previous hiding spot. He smiles sheepishly at Specs, which was met with his own chuckling. 
“Guess, we better head back” Romeo said, looking up to meet Specs’ eyes, “But you’re gonna have to use the balcony” 
“I figured” 
Specs sits back on the balcony before swinging both legs over the railing to climb down. Romeo leans his body against the railing, held up by his arms. It’s only polite to wait for Specs to climb down before he leaves to get to the ballroom himself. 
“By the way… thanks for keeping me company” Romeo felt like he owed him a thank you. After all, Specs could’ve had some fun or gained more than just a casual get-to-know-me conversation if he were to fully participate in the party. 
Specs looks up from minding his steps down, back up to Romeo’s eyes with a loving gaze towards him, “Of course. When else will I get the chance to be this close to you?” 
Rome looks down to his hands to hide away his blush and bashful little smile. He notices Specs hands are still on the railing, placed quite close to his own. 
“But how did I do? Were you impressed?” 
Romeo looks up, finding the other boy’s face is already two inches away from his own. The exact same position they were in before getting interrupted by his brother, just this time Specs is hanging on the balcony.
“Is that something you want to know?” Romeo questioned back with a little giggle following it. He thought it would be fun to tease him around before they finally part ways. 
“It’s not usual for me to straight up ask but… “ Specs caught on with the teasing, “... technically you were the one that ask” 
Romeo giggles along with him. He nods to his question and answers properly, “Yes. I was very much impressed by you, Specs” 
The next seconds were filled with silence. The high from their little banter turned into adrenaline to do something with how they’re positioned now. They both realize it, as both smiles slowly fade to parted lips with hot and heavy breaths hitting each other’s faces. Romeo glues his eyes on Specs’ lips, he could only imagine the other boy did the same. 
“Do I get the permission to kiss you?” Specs asked, barely above a whisper while his hands traced up Romeo’s arm until it reached his cheek once again. 
Romeo stuttered through his next few words before replying with a little giggle, “Permission granted” 
Specs wasted no time, softly crashing his lips on the other boy’s. Fireworks set off in their heads as the feelings developed for each other from this short period of time are released in one gentle kiss. Romeo moves one hand to hold his neck, as a means to deepen the kiss and to secure Specs from falling. 
They part with heavy breaths escaping their lips. The heavy breathings turned into giggles and giggles turned into goodbyes. 
Romeo watches as a giddy looking Specs makes it to the ground and walks towards the previous tunnel. Before finally escaping his vision, Specs glances back up to Romeo. Despite the distant Romeo can see a stupid grin on his face, which only made him laugh. 
As Specs finally escapes his view, Romeo lets out a long and adoring sigh and melts into the moment. Lowering his body and placing his head on top of his hands that are gripping on the balcony. 
He hears his beloved fur ball meow near him, but he’s far gone for that boy to even care what the cat wants. 
“I know, Snowy,” Romeo said, as if understanding the language his cat speaks, “He’s such a dream…” 
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asianfighter · 4 years
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Sooo I found another Lucci fan girl on Insta and subsequently remembered an AU I started. The premise is my OC, Tahlia, is the daughter of the man who runs the largest security firm in the world. Needless to say, threats are ever present and she goes through body guards like nothing. Enter the man who clawed his way up to the top of the chain.
This is a brain chills I’ve neglected but I will have to get back to soon. Read at your own discretion. It’s not blatantly explicit but it is definitely suggestive and borderline NSFW. If you’re not 18, keep scrolling. If you’re of age and you like Lucci, well, I hope you enjoy.
MORE THAN HUMAN TEASER: THE FIRST NIGHT
Rob Lucci’s footsteps were quiet, even on the antique wooden planks. Just as he had been commanded, he showered and even changed into a fresh suit. Roman Espinosa always expected his guards to be well dressed; he could only assume his daughter had similar expectations. Lucci could hear the faint sound of music seeping through the walls, sliding beneath the crack below the double doors. He gave a light knock.
“Come in,” Tahlia said from the other side. He turned the handle and slipped through, making sure to close the door just as silently as he had entered. She was freshly showered as well. Her straight hair was still slightly damp and she was dressed in a silky little gown, all black, with a low neckline and lots of lace.
“Hello, Lucci,” she said with a smile. “Lock the door, will you?”
He did as he was told and walked towards the table and chairs in the center of the room. Tahlia fussed with her phone and turned up the music, low quality hip hop beats accompanying an instrumental melody. Occasionally, audio bits of a female singing in French were thrown into the mix.
“Have a seat,” Tahlia told him. Lucci unbuttoned his blazer, this one black, and sat on one of the couches. In front of him, there was a small serving tray with a curvy glass of red wine and a straight little glass that held whiskey on the rocks.
Instead of sitting on the couch across from him, Tilly sat on the wooden table directly in front of him and crossed her legs. She handed him the whiskey before scooping up the glass of dark red liquid.
“Did you like my performance?” Tahlia asked with a smirk. “I know you heard most of it.” She took a slow sip, eyeing Lucci the entire time as if she could unnerve him. He didn’t blink. “Seems like I’m still stuck with you for now… but Daddy’s convinced all it will take to make me happy is a brand new building or two. For how sharp he is in business, he can be a very easy man to deceive.”
Lucci gave her an emotionless gaze and took a sip of the cool whiskey.
“He’s talked a lot about you,” she said, staring at him. “Nice to finally put a name to face.” Lucci withheld a comment about how incessantly Roman talked about her.
“The first time I had ever heard your name,” Tilly told him, “I was 10 years old. Daddy flew in just for my birthday party…” She looked down at her glass of wine. “...and all he could talk about was how successful Rob Lucci’s first field mission went.”
An amused smile played across her face. “I honestly thought you’d be older, considering your history. You’re only three years older than I am… but I suppose that’s why you were such a success. A killing machine at the age of 13. Quite a feat.”
Rob Lucci watched her face and slowly sipped on his drink. “Did you know they call you ‘Massacre Weapon’? Quite a heavy moniker, if you ask me.” Tahlia’s eyes turned downward as she sipped on her own drink. “From simple soldier to my sole security guard,” Tahlia said. “It’s quite a leap.”
Tahlia smiled coyly. The man simply gave her the same, stoic look during her monologue.
“To your promotion,” she said, “and new beginnings in a new city.” Tahlia held her drink up. They clinked glasses together. “By the way, you look dashing in white. I liked that suit much better than the black.”
Lucci nodded, taking a mental note, then took another sip as Tahlia sat back and swished her drink with one hand. He knew others found his gaze was unsettling… but there was something slightly unsettling about hers, too.
“Since you insist on playing silent, I’ll do the talking,” Tahlia said. She took a sip of wine, her lips slightly tinted red. I have big plans, Lucci. Big plans. The only thing is… I need someone I can trust… and some serious muscle to help see them through. If my intuition is correct, you might be able to wear both of those hats well.”
Lucci tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, silently prompting her to tell him more. He was slightly curious to know what her “big plans” entailed.
“I’m not a slave driver; I won’t force you to work for me. But if you do decide to stay, I will have plenty of opportunities for you to paint the town red. I think we could have a very mutually beneficial relationship. All I need you to do is what you do best. You get to have a little fun and I get… well, whatever I want.”
A dangerous look flashed in his eyes at the promise of “painting the town red.”
“Until now I’ve been given regular men. Lackluster soldiers with lackluster skills… but you’re different, I can tell.” She looked him over slowly, like she was trying to find the secret that made him special. “You are the last piece to my puzzle,” Tahlia told him. ”With you by my side, I will have everything I need. Together, we could sit back and watch the world burn. So what do you say?”
Very slowly, Rob Lucci gave the smallest of smirks, one corner of his mouth twisting upwards ever so slightly. His eyes were focused on hers, and try as she might to read his expression, Tahlia couldn’t quite decrypt what was running through his mind. She leaned forward and, with one finger, beckoned him to do the same.
“I know you can speak,” she said in his ear. “And I actually want to hear you say it. Are you in… or not?”
When he spoke, his voice was deep. Dangerous. Just as she had with him, he leaned in and spoke in her ear. This was her father’s house, after all. They could never be too cautious. Though there was no one else currently listening, he spoke in a low voice so that only Tahlia could hear him say, “I’m in.”
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that…” She gently placed her glass of wine back down. Tahlia leaned back on one arm and said, “...because I have a little test for you.”
Lucci placed down his own glass, mirrored her posture and leaned back as well. He rested one hand on the back rest of the couch.
“How far are you willing to go to prove your loyalty?” Tahlia asked him. Lucci’s brows pulled further down. Even rookies knew there was only one way out of Espinosa Inc. and it didn’t involve a 401k.
“I wonder,” Tahlia mused aloud, leaning forward and intruding upon his personal space, “if your loyalties lie with my father… or if they lie with me.” She searched his eyes but found no answer there. “I suppose it’s all the same,” she said quietly, “for now.”
She grinned and gave him an uneven smile that looked especially dangerous in the low lighting.
“Let’s see how well they trained you to listen,” Tahlia said. There was a dark mischief to her. Lucci simply looked back, stone faced. What could she possibly do to him that men hadn’t already done before? He had been shot, stabbed, beaten, burned… the more annoying methods of “pain resistance training” had included drowning simulations and extended immersion. Despite the large burns on his back, he much would have chosen fire over water torture any day.
Roman constantly bragged about how his girl was such a talented artist. Would she use one of the traditional methods or come up with something a little more creative?
In answer to his question, Tahlia leaned forward and slid onto the couch, her legs straddling Lucci’s waist. He leaned backwards at the sudden contact, the soft seat of the couch pushing against him. Tahlia placed her cheek against his and whispered, “I want you to sleep with me tonight.” Lucci’s posture stiffened as Tahlia loosened his tie and began to unbutton his shirt from the top down. “They didn’t cut out your tongue, after all. I’ll make sure it goes to good use.”
She used her left hand to continue unbuttoning while her right brushed against his face. She liked feeling the smooth of his cheek and the rough of his sideburns, his tidy beard. She could smell his mouth watering cologne. He had an ever present steel gaze that quietly drove her crazy. Tahlia leaned in to kiss him, and though his lips moved in sync with hers, he still had the same, cold expression when he opened up his eyes.
“They say you can’t feel pain…” Tahlia said, more to herself than him. His eyes were deep and dark, so brown that they looked completely black. They were eyes that held countless unspoken secrets. She pulled him towards her, slid her hands beneath his polo, helped slide his shirt and blazer off. Tilly squeezed his biceps (deliciously tattooed, she noticed, with a modern, minimal design on his shoulders) and massaged his strong forearms. She could hear him take a slow, steady inhale and a long, drawn out exhale.
Tahlia’s hands trailed down his arms and she placed both of his hands on her breasts. She pressed her hips into his and made slow, grinding movements. She could feel the bulge in his pants hardening. Tahlia moaned and nipped his ear. Lucci’s dark eyes flashed a dirty gold for just a fraction of a second but it went unnoticed. Tilly’s voice was a low, seductive purr as she said, “Let’s see if you still feel pleasure.”
Well if you like it, let me know! I have some scenes written that I’d love to share if there’s any interest!
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gma-crafts · 5 years
Text
Alaskan Marmalade
Word Count: 2,628 Warnings: mentions anxiety attack, a lot of sled dog trivia, inaccuracies regarding the topography of New York and also the sled dog bit Characters: James Rhodes, Tony Stark, Paddington Bear Summary: When Tony sat down on the park bench to get some fresh air after a bad day, he didn’t expect to meet a new friend. Especially not one with paws and a sweet tooth.
*
Written for my lovely @colins-farrells, hope you like it! <3000
You can also find this fic on AO3
*
The soft chirping of songbirds cut through the steady noise of New York’s afternoon traffic, mixed with the chatter of flocks of tourists making their way to Bethesda Fountain. A chilly autumn breeze rustled through the treetops, their leaves only tinted ever so slightly, barely visible against the sun. The gravel of the path looping Pilgrim Hill gritted under his Italian dress shoes and mixed into the buzzing of the city around him, yet all Tony heard was his own blood rushing in his ears.
Some heads turned after him; a few cameras clicked when he strut towards the Angel of the Waters, but he didn’t pay it a second thought and followed one of the smaller paths eventually getting him to Sheep Meadow. Tony was still restless and upset, his head replaying the argument that made him practically run into the artificial tranquility of Central Park, but both his sprint down East 72nd and his attire (bespoke, of course, but definitely not made to literally run from your problems) more or less forced him to make a beeline for one of the benches and take a seat.
It was oddly deserted today, and Tony was thankful for that. He needed some quiet, some sensory deprivation to keep his mind from buzzing so goddamn much it gave him a headache, his brain and heart pumping so many chemicals through him so fast he had to loosen his tie and slip his cold fingers under the collar of his dress shirt to keep his neck from flushing.
Tony took a ragged breath. Shhh, he told his brain. Lemme think clear for a second. He pressed his indexes into the base of his skull, posture slumping down more with every new breath, as if the arc reactor gained weight with each intake of his lungs and slowly dragged him to the ground. Eventually, his heart calmed down enough to make his chest stop clenching around the metal tin in his sternum, and with the pressure leaving his ribcage, he relaxed.
God, he must look so stupid. A grown ass man in a three-piece suit the price of a small car, sitting on a park bench with an anxiety attack because he had a fight with his fiancé? Sometimes he had a hard time believing he ran a successful multi-billion dollar company. And to be precise, the tiny mean voice in his head chimed up, it wasn’t even a fight - you just overreacted and wreaked all your anger on Rhodey.
Tony hated this voice, mostly because it was right. He had been in a terrible mood all day, and Rhodey just had happened to be the person he took it out on. It wasn’t even something substantial, just the usual sting about how SHIELD and media loved to bask Captain America in the best light, and have Iron Man take the piss for even the slightest inconvenience. Tony had learned years ago to not give a flying frick about the Bugle’s headlines. But today, when Steve had the chance to correct them and then didn’t, and everyone just went along with kissing Cap’s spandex-clad hiney, not only ignoring that Tony did the lion’s share of the work, but also side-eyeing him for confronting Steve about it? Well, that pissed him off pretty much.
And to make this day perfectly horrible, he had decided to go and vent to Rhodey, only to be met with the stoic boldness he usually admired about his fiancé, but sent him through the roof today. He had just wanted someone to be on his side, to flip off the rest of the team and maybe even gossip about Clint’s horrible new haircut, but Rhodey had just kissed his cheek, told him to mess with their new suits’ measurements as payback and walked off with the promise of running him a hot bath. Tony must’ve been the first person to snap at the prospect of bubbles and essential oils, but yes, that was pretty much from where it all went downhill.
A ruffle to his left intruded his train of thought, and Tony sat back up to snark at the unlucky bastard disturbing his self-loathing, only to lift a few inches off the bench with an embarrassingly shrill yelp.
“Odin’s beard are you trying to get me into cardiac arrest? ‘Cause this was damn near successful, buddy,” he burst out, before giving the intruder another once-over. “You on the run from PeTA or somethin’?”
The creature trying to take a seat next to him slipped off the bank at his sudden eruption, and stared at him in what Tony could only call confusion. They both looked at each other silently for some seconds, Tony mentally bargaining with his fight or flight response, before the other slowly rose a - paw? - and lifted his shabby crimson hat, revealing a pair of small stubby ears.
“Wait, so you’re a… bear? In a hat and a duffel coat?”
“Good day Sir, name’s Paddington, Paddington Brown. I didn’t mean to scare you, nor give you a heart condition. May I offer you a nice marmalade sandwich as an apology?” the bear answered, and Tony decided the attire still was weirder than the British accent. His instincts figured the bear called Paddington wasn’t actually life-threatening, and his heart rate slowed down again.
“It’s alright, fuzzy. Pump’s still working. That what you do for a living? Sneaking up on people in Central Park and giving them a spook?” Tony’s voice was back to its usual soothing timbre, and encouraged by that, the bear climbed up on the bench again and started explaining.
About fifteen minutes later, Tony had called the Brown family - currently visiting Mrs. Brown’s niece -  to inform them that yes, Paddington had gotten lost again, and that yes, they could pick him up at the Stark Tower in New York as soon as they could comfortably make it. After that, he had ordered Happy to pick them up at the Infantry Memorial, and to not freak out over his guest being a bear the size of an eight-year-old. 
They were rounding a corner midway into a conversation about oranges when Paddington’s attention shifted to something on Tony’s right. Tony followed his gaze and spotted one of the large statues all scattered over Central Park. The bear excused himself and eagerly padded towards the broad rock guarding the path; Tony rose a brow and followed foot.
“Oh, what a lovely looking dog,” Paddington remarked as Tony came to a halt next to him. The large, bronze siberian husky guarding the pompous inscription “Endurance. Fidelity. Intelligence.” was supposed to be a memoriam of “American Heroism”, but whenever Tony saw it all he could think was is this a blep, or a mlem?
“That’s Balto,” he informed Paddington while they approached the statue. The bear studied the embedded plaque, before turning back to Tony.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand any of this, but he does seem like a good boy,” he said, and Tony huffed. He rubbed a finger over Balto’s cool bronze paw and leaned onto the massive stone the dog was standing on.
“He was a sled dog, lived around the 1920s in Alaska. Led a team of other huskies and his musher on a famous run to deliver much needed medicine to a city in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of winter.”
“Well, I’m no expert for statues, but that seems like a very adequate reason to be rewarded with one,” Paddington answered with a soft smile.
“Y’know, I’d agree with you, fuzzy, but Balto was given the entire cake when there were actually multiple teams of sled dogs doing the trip. He didn’t even run the longest leg, he just happened to be the one to actually arrive in the city. Another dog ran about seven times the distance, saving his pack and his musher two times, yet the newspapers pictured Balto and his owner as if they’d run the entire race by themselves,” Tony explained, and he couldn’t fail to notice how oddly enthusiastic he got over journalists wrong-doing a sled dog several decades ago.
Paddington thought about this for some minutes, brows furrowed under the brim of his crimson hat. He then looked up at Tony and asked, “But Balto and his owner didn’t ask them to only praise their team, right? The papers decided that on their own?”
“Uhm, no he didn’t,” Tony answered, confused, “But when the first headlines popped up, Balto’s musher could’ve told them that it was actually the other dog, Togo, who did the most work. It would’ve been right. It would’ve been fair.”
“Sometimes there’s no harder task than doing what’s right, I’m afraid,” Paddington responded, and his words carried a wisdom so unfitting for a bear in a childrens jacket, it actually left Tony at a loss of words for a moment.
“Yeah you got a point there, but still. He should’ve just said, ‘Oh thanks, but we actually didn’t do the lion’s share of the race.’ Togo’s musher was really upset when he heard that no one appreciated the struggle his team went through, and honestly I can’t blame him. I mean, Balto still didn’t deserve to almost starve to death in some shady zoo after all the ruckus  calmed down,” He admitted, suddenly remembering how the story had continued for Alaska’s canine hero, “But his fame was undeserved and Togo got robbed of what he rightfully earned.”
Paddington’s face had dropped when he heard about Balto’s fate, and Tony hurried to assure him that he was soon rescued from that awful place. They both had continued walking and reached their destination in comfortable silence, Tony still brooding over how he snapped at Rhodey, and the bear deep in thoughts about heaven knows what.
Happy already awaited them. He rose a brow at Paddington’s polite introduction, then just shrugged and tossed a “caught you doing worse, boss,” at Tony before closing the door. They merged into traffic smoothly and headed straight towards Stark Tower. For about half the ride they said nothing, Tony toying with the grey and red engagement ring on his hand, Paddington just looking out of the tinted window. But eventually, the bear turned back to him.
“Mr. Stark, excuse me for bringing this back up, but there’s something I don’t understand about the whole sled dog event,” he started, fidgeting with his seatbelt, “I’ve given this plenty of thought, but I just fail to understand why dedicating a statue to the dog doing the actual work is so important. As far as I’m concerned about dogs, they only care about statues if they need to spend a penny on their morning walks.”
Tony couldn’t help but snort at Paddington’s choice of words. Then again, the bear had a point there, didn’t he?
“And speaking of caring,” Paddington continued before Tony could put actual thought into an answer, “I can’t help to believe that Togo couldn’t have cared less about the press articles, as long as he had a nice and loving home - not like his poor friend.” His eyes drooped slightly at that thought, before they met Tony’s yet again, earnest worry deepening his frown. “He did have a nice home, didn’t he?”
Tony needed a minute to recap his knowledge about Togo’s homelife, but then met the bear’s gaze and smiled.
“Yeah, yeah he actually did have a nice owner. Had a rough start, with the pup being so wimpy yet damn stubborn and with an entire beehive in his bonnet, but he was a natural leader. His owner said Togo’s been the best dog he’s ever had. They raced together for years, and his owner kept him til he died. So yep, in the long run, Togo kinda came out as the winner,” Tony explained, his brain stumbling over what he had just said. Was he still talking about dogs?
“I’m delighted to hear that,” Paddington answered and looked every bit like it. “A dog so brave and loyal can call itself happy to have someone believing in him despite of everyone. But tell me, Mr. Stark - how come you’re so educated on this topic?”
“Well, back when-,” Tony started, but got interrupted by Happy rolling down into the tower’s garage and turning off the engine. He quickly informed JARVIS about their expected guests before tagging along with Paddington to the elevators and up into his penthouse.
Rhodey looked up at the small mechanic ping of the elevator doors, the soft smile dropping along with his jaw as soon as a bear (a bear?) stepped out of it and let his eyes wander around the place curiously.
“Tony. Tony why is this bear tipping its hat at me?” Rhodey asked, gaze fixed on their small visitor inspecting a vase twice his size. He hadn’t expected his fiancé back anytime soon, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected him to tag along a wild animal dressed like a preschooler. Tony kicked his shoes off and threw his jacket over a chair before scooting over to Rhodey.
“It’s a long story, but a funny one, I promise. But first,” Tony got on his tiptoes, cupped Rhodey’s face and planted a quick, but firm kiss on his lips, “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot and you’re way too sweet to me. Honestly, way, way too sweet. I’m so lucky to have you.” He underlined every sentence with another kiss, and Rhodey couldn’t help but smile into them before gently pushing Tony away.
“Not that I’m one to turn down such an apology, but help me out here. You come home upset, you snap at me for offering you a bubble bath. You go because you need some air. You come back and bring plenty of these, “ another kiss, “and. Well. An upright walking, dressed up bear.”
“Oh, he talks, too,” Tony added, looking over where Paddington got cornered by their cats Susu and Mochi. The third one, Jonathan, was rubbing his cheek on Tony’s leg with a loud purr. “But yeah, since we parted I met fuzzy over there and had plenty of sled dog discourse, so-”
“Oh don’t tell me you ranted over Togo again,” Rhodey interrupted him, the look on Tony’s face telling him he hit bulls eye.
“How on earth would you know-”
“Because I was present at your first MIT campus party, and one of the unlucky people witnessing your drunk monologue over, what did you call it? ‘America's biggest canine tragedy’, if I’m correct,” Rhodey grinned and picked up Jonathan before he could commit homicide on Tony for ignoring him.
Just as he was about to ask Rhodey if he had any proof to back up this scrumptious accusation, they were startled by a loud clang, and an early MARK’s helmet rolled into the living room, followed by Paddington.
“Apologies, Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean to knock it over! I was just wondering where you’re keeping your marmalade sandwiches in this, and then it went tumbling all of a sudden, “ the bear hurried to explain, picking the helmet up carefully.
“Marmalade sandwiches?” Rhodey asked, his eyebrow raising the very moment JARVIS informed them that the Browns had arrived to pick Paddington up.
Tony shrugged. “I’ll explain later. Gotta drop fuzzy off in the lobby first. Then we’ll talk, okay? And kiss. Lots of kissing. Actually, we could drop the talking for star-”
“Go and return your teddy, before he starts shedding. No offense, Paddington,” Rhodey laughed.
“None taken, Sir,” Paddington replied as he and Tony entered the elevator once again. Tony pressed the button for ground level before turning back to Rhodey, meeting his eyes.
“Love you, Platypus.”
“Love you too, Tones,” Rhodey answered, and the elevator doors closed over his smile.
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ebenelephant · 4 years
Text
Ok but I would like to take a minute out of my day to talk about Teachers:
The teacher who wears deep purple-pink shirts and rocks them because he can, and has a tattoo on his upper arm that he promised he would show my friends if he stayed in school for all 6 years.
The biology teacher who dresses in naturally dyed clothes that are good for the environment most of the time. Who wears brown leather boots that nearly reach her knees every day. Who dresses like a victorian lady with shin length dresses with high neck lines, long sleeves, wide skirts, corsets, and lots of buttons. But who sometimes wears sparkly trousers just because. Who incubated and hatched a chick in her class and is holding a competition to name it. Who has a horse and a fox skull on her desk. Who hates social interaction, and hardly knows any of her colleagues' names because she simply can't be bothered to talk to them. Who has travelled the world, and lived in Thailand for 10 years, but settled down on a small farm in Scotland with 2 kids, a husband, and several farm animals. Who became a doctor of Biology but still teaches high schoolers 4 days a week and makes soap to sell on Fridays.
The teacher who wears bright blue platform Vans. Who set up a Club at lunch times to be a safe space for LGBT students and their friends.
The art teacher who wore a pikachu T-shirt and an ankle length flowy lilac skirt on the day that I had my first class with her. Who wore a white dress covered in splashes of red today because "It reminds me of Carrie" and rocks it. Who has been nothing but endlessly nice to everyone since she came. Who is invested and ecxited about her subject and wants us to do well. Who let's us listen to music because she understands that we focus better when we do.
The teacher who had bright red hair for my first two years at school. Whose hair I was starting to think was naturally that colour. Who helped set up a writing group and got us a small book of short stories and works published this year. Who helped us achieve something that no one else we know has done.
The English teacher who comes to school in three piece tweed suits and white shirts, but always ends the day with the suit jacket on the back of his chair and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Who sits running his hands through his bent over his desk when he's marking at lunch time because he's stressed too. Who has a Canadian flag on his wall because he's proud of where he's from. Who makes sure his student read for at least one period a week because reading is damn important, even if they don't seem to get that. Who leaves school again in the evening wearing a black wool coat.
The teacher who sometimes wears golden waistcoats. Who jokes about his own weight. Who told us that we can't watch 'Titanic' whilst doing a topic on the Victorians and the Industrial Revolution because he's to emotional and would probably cry. Who had trinkets from all around the world from when he was in the military. Who is shameless about having the Nazi flag among many others on his wall because it's a part of History, and we shouldn't shy away from it, and he's going to teach us about it anyway. Who goes for a drink at the end of the day.
The teacher who wears brown cardigans and brown trousers and muted blue shirts. Who cycles to work everyday and set up a Bike Club so students would know how cycle through town without incident and know how to maintain their bikes. Who wants his students to make a healthy change.
The drama teacher who comes to school in leggings and a T-shirt half the time. Who is more than a little eccentric and excitable. Who still makes sure that her students know that respect is important. Who is more respected than the headmistress throughout the student body thanks to her advice and warmth.
The Deputy Head who came to school today with red roses on his tie. Who is intimidating when he wants to be, but isn't uncomfortable to be around when discussing options with you. Who walks into classes and sits on the desk, calm as anything, and tells your class that all of you did well in your exams.
The teacher who may be slightly intimidating, but tells jokes in class and takes students to the side to tell then that they're doing a good job.
The Gym teacher who performed in the schools performance of Grease singing 'High School Drop Out' badly. Who was a good sport and dressed in a white suit and sang in front of hundreds of people and was serenaded by the older female staff member who were playing Angel's. Who did it even though it must have embarrassed him.
The newest Gym teacher who sang an awful rendition of 'All I Want For Christmas' with him at the Christmas Pantomine last year. Who wasn't phased by it and kissed his colleague, another man, on stage in front of hundreds because it really didn't matter. Who sang a love song and was teased about it after but just went along with it and had a laugh with his students instead of being offended. Who helped a girl who got her lip split playing hockey and joked that if he didn't teach PE he'd be a doctor, probably a brain surgeon.
The teacher who won't take 'I don't know' as an answer. Who makes us look through the notes that we took until we find the answer. Who knows that none of us really want to learn Spanish but tells us that we can if we try. Who's probably right. Who is also a Deputy Head and a Pupil Support teacher. Who comes into classes at registration and tells students that they have so much potential and could be so much better if they would only try.
The teacher who has white hair and wears blue jumpers. Who is kind and makes jokes. Who took the Pottermore test while we were working because we asked what Hogwarts House he was in. Who made us feel comfortable enough around him that we asked that in the first place. Who is a Ravenclaw, by the way. Who makes sure that we do all the work that we have to and don't slack, even though we're enjoying ourselves. Who made physics class into the favourite class of the week of half of the students in it. Who created the calm in the storm.
Teachers. Please appreciate them.
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nerdy-bookworm-1998 · 5 years
Text
The Annual Stark Christmas Gala
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Summary: Day 8 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. It’s time for the annual Stark Christmas Gala, but Y/N isn’t really in the mood. Maybe a new friend can turn that around. Words: 951 Warnings: Fluff A/N: If you liked this please leave feedback/reblogs and consider donating to my Ko-Fi and/or Patreon, links are in my bio. If you would like to be tagged in future works, please send me an ask. Merry Christmas!
The annual Stark Christmas gala was the one party that y/n always looked forward to. This year had been no exception. She had even designed her gown, a floor-length midnight blue silk gown with a sweetheart neckline, black lace on the bodice and three-quarter sleeves, and an intricate silver belt of stars and flowers around her hips, and a dressmaker Pepper had suggested had brought her vision to life. She had paired it with strappy silver stilettos and silver jewelry. Nat had done her make-up; smokey eyes that matched the dress and made her eyes appear larger and doe-like with soft, rosy cheeks and lips, while Wanda had made her hair look soft, shiny and framed her face to perfection.
After all of that preparation, all she wanted to do was go home, slip on one of Steve's flannel shirts and watch Hallmark Christmas movies with a big glass of eggnog. It wasn't that the party wasn't fun, on the contrary, everyone was dancing and laughing. But the one person she wanted to spend the evening with was out on a mission and would only be back in two days.
As she sat at the bar, nursing her candy cane martini, a man with light brown hair and a slightly stocky build approached her. "Is this seat taken?" he asked with a friendly smile. When she waved her hand, signaling for him to go ahead, he sat down beside her and flagged down the bartender to ask for a beer. Once he had his beverage in hand he turned to her, still smiling, "How come you aren't dancing? Is this not your scene?"
"Not exactly, I was looking forward to tonight, but my boyfriend couldn't make it since he has to work," she answers with a wry smile as she sips her drink.
"Aah," he says with an understanding smile, "I wouldn't be here either, but a friend of mine wanted to introduce me to someone she thinks I would hit it off with. Unfortunately, it seems that she hasn't turned up yet so I have been left to my own devices."
"Well, in that case, would you like to join me for a dance? Just because our friends and partners can't be here, doesn't mean that we should mope," she says, hopping off of her seat and holding out her hand to her new friend who takes it and lets her lead him to the dancefloor.
"I'm Derek, by the way," he informs her as he settles his hands on her back.
"Y/N," she grins as she puts her hands on his shoulders and starts leading him around the dancefloor. Six songs later and both of them are exhausted as they make their way back to the bar to order more drinks.
"Oh, Cinderella, your prince has arrived" Nat sing-songs as she slides in next to you, cutting off what you were saying and making your head whip towards the elevator in time to see Steve, Bucky, Sam, Sharon, and Maria exit through the elevator doors and make a beeline for you and Derek. The boys must have just gotten back from their mission as their hair was still damp from their showers. Each of them was looking distinctly dapper in their suits, but y/n's eyes remain fixed on Steve in his midnight blue three-piece suit, crisp white shirt, and silver tie with his hair slicked back.
As the group reaches the bar, Steve pulls his girl into his arms and plants a tender kiss full of promises on her lips before sliding his hand around her waist and flagging down the bartender to order a whiskey on the rocks.
As y/n snuggles into her boyfriend's side she turns her attention back to their friends and Maria who was introducing everyone. "Everyone, this is Derek, he's an old friend of mine. Derek, I see you've already met y/n and Natasha. This is Steve, Bucky, Sharon, and Sam," she says with a mischievous smile.
"Are you the Derek that challenged Maria to a drinking and dancing contest at the bottom of Shield Academy's pool?" Sam asked, already moving closer to the man.
"Yes?" Derek answered, his ears turning red as he laughed at the memory.
"Dude, I have so many questions for you! Let's grab another round then you can tell me and tinman over here about what Maria was like in college," Sam grins widely.
"Only if you and Bucky tell me how you two managed to crash a flight simulator into a wall at NASA," Derek bargains with a grin.
"Deal," Bucky agrees before the three of them head off to one of the couches to swap stories while Maria slips her hand into Sharon's and drags her girlfriend off towards the dancefloor.
"Well, I am going to find Barton, I'm sure he's found something entertaining to do by now," Nat says before flouncing off, leaving the couple alone to enjoy each other's embrace.
"You look gorgeous," Steve smiles lovingly at her before giving her a soft, sweet kiss.
"You don't look too bad yourself, handsome. Now, as much fun as this party has been, why don't we get out of here, go change into something more comfortable and crash in the theatre room with popcorn, a movie, and lots of cuddles?" y/n suggests with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
"I'd love that, I've missed you far too much to want to share you with everyone else tonight, I'll meet you there in five minutes?" Steve agrees, grinning like a schoolboy.
"I'll be waiting," she winks before slipping off of the stool and out of the party with a delighted giggle. The gala had definitely been worth the wait.
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idonthaveanaccent · 5 years
Text
LOG 20
Here’s another post, click here for the list of chapters (aka logs) before this one if you haven’t read this far!
Fredrick sighed as he stood on the docks of the shipping yard. Species and aliens of all kind mulled around him, talking in all sorts of languages. He frowned as he pulled his jacket tighter around him. The hood he wore his his features, and hopefully his race. Humans had only been a part of the USL for twelve years. He didn't want too much attention plastered on himself. 
He pushed forward. People shifted around him, both annoyed and willing to let him pass. Fredrick pulled his sleeves up to scratch at his scars. They were bugging him today. 
Whenever he got antsy they itched. He didn't like it. It was a constant reminder of a dark time of his life, one he wished to not repeat. 
Fredrick muttered a few explicits under his breath as people began to shove him. He quickly pulled his sleeve back down and bowed his head. It took him a while, but he eventually reached his destination. 
The museum was small, one that had been founded by a family that lived on the docks. It didn't have much in it, but Fredrick wanted to check it out. While they were docked here, he wished to see the sights. Even if they weren't something that was incredibly interesting, he knew he'd enjoy them. 
Fredrick opened the door. He looked around, his ocean blue eyes drinking in everything. There were glass cabinets filled with various different objects. He saw old space masks, rocks, various suits, a few planks of wood, and other stuff. The room was cool and he shivered slightly. It felt just like walking into a museum back on Earth. It was something he enjoyed. 
There were hardly any people in the museum, only a few who stood by glass cases. Fredrick could see what looked like a couple, a man and his kid, and then a group of teen looking aliens. Fredrick pulled his hood tighter. He then walked over to one of the display cases. 
The owner stood behind a counter, sorting through a series of cards. He was a burly creature, with layers of muscles rippling over his body. He was covered in thick, orange fur and resembled Chewbacca from Star Wars. He didn't have as much fur in the neck region though. He might've actually been a male Grangle. Sil'keen had similar features, except she was a light brown color. Fredrick wouldn't ask him his species, though. Who knows what that could instigate. 
Fredrick looked at the display case in front of him. It was pieces of a ship that had been famous. It was called the Rebel Rider. Fredrick swore he recognized the name, but couldn't quite place it at this moment in time. He frowned, rummaging through every corner of his mind trying to find the answer to his question. 
"Daddy, what's that?"
Fredrick jumped. He quickly looked to his right and saw the father and kid. The father smiled down at his kid, a tentacle wrapped tightly around him. Fredrick was pretty sure they were K'Lonian, just like Xylion. The father resembled Jenzon, with red scales. However, he had blue skin flaps instead of purple. The kid was a soft blue and had purple skin flaps. The flaps were longer as well. Perhaps a female? 
"That is a piece of the Rebel Rider. Captain Tylerion piloted it."
"Really? This is an actual piece of it?" The kid exclaimed, their purple eyes widening.
The father nodded. Fredrick frowned as he looked back at the plates of metal. That's why he recognized it. Xylion's brother's ship. "Hey, Mister?"
Fredrick jumped as he looked down. The kid was looking up at him, their eyes wide. "Yes?" He asked, his face shadowed by his hood. 
"Do you know who Captain Tylerion is?"
"Yes, I've heard of him before."
The kid grinned. "He's a famous hero back at my home. I want to be a captain just like him!"
Fredrick smiled. "You'd make a great captain."
The father smiled. "She would, wouldn't she?"
"What do you do, mister?"
Fredrick was about to respond when suddenly the sounds of alarms sounded outside. Fredrick flinched as everyone inside looked around. The owner vaulted over the counter and hurried to the door. He pressed a few buttons on a pad by the door. Beeps filled the room, and suddenly metal plates slid over the windows and the doors swung shut, locking. The owner turned around towards them. "Everyone, get to the back room! There's a threat outside. It'll be safe inside there!"
The owner filed them all inside. Fredrick put a hand on his belt, fingering the gun that was attached to it. Who knew what was wrong outside. Fredrick stepped into the room last, the owner quickly closing the door behind him. He pressed another combination into the pad, and the sound of the door locking was heard.
Everyone who was in the museum was huddled inside. The little girl cling to her father. The couple pressed into a corner, their many arms wrapped around one another. The teens glanced at one another, fear clouding their eyes. Fredrick scratched at his scars again. This was not an ideal situation. 
The owner looked at them, clearly distraught. "My apologies. I don't know what's happening outside, but it's enough to call for an emergency shutdown of every shop. We have to wait in here until they issue a message telling us it's safe to come out." 
Everyone nodded. They settled down and laid claim to different areas of the small room. Fredrick sat down and bowed his head. He did okay in crisis, thankfully.
"What are we going to do?" The first person asked their romantic partner.
The other shook their head. "I'm not sure."
"We have to wait this out." The owner said, looking towards them. 
One of the teens shivered, wrapping their body around one of their friends. "I'm so scared."
Their friend nodded, their two heads bobbing in sync. "I don't know if I can handle this."
Fredrick looked between all of their scared faces. He frowned, looking down. Suddenly, the owner spoke. "Don't worry. I'm sure the USL is working on saving us. I wouldn't be surprised if they're already here."
The little girl nodded, mucus coating her round cheeks. Her father had mucus dripping from his forehead as he held onto her tightly. "The USL will protect us. I believe in them."
Fredrick pulled out his communicator. Perhaps a message had been posted about what was going on. He frowned as he scoured through it. Suddenly, he got a message. Fredrick opened it. 
Isaac: Yo, where the hell are you? 
Fredrick: I'm at a safe room in a museum at the docks. 
Isaac: Damn. 
Fredrick: Any idea what's going on?
Isaac: Not really. Me and Quinn are pressed behind crates. There's people wandering around with guns, I think. I heard gunshots.
Fredrick: Shit.
Isaac: I've tried to get in contact with those still aboard the ship, but nothing. 
Fredrick: Who's there?
Isaac: Sil'keen, Zellnor, Micheele and Tilorian. Everyone else is out.
Fredrick: What about other USL ships?
Isaac: I don't think any others are out there. 
Fredrick: Great, we are going to have to deal with this.
Isaac: 'Least we know combat.
Fredrick: Yes, I guess so. Protect the civilians.
Isaac: Same to you boo.
Fredrick rolled his eyes as he turned off the communicator. He kept it secured in his grip as he eyed everyone else. The little girl stared at him, blinking her three eyes. "Mister?"
"Yes?"
"What's your name?" She whispered. Her father gently squeezed her and looked at him with pleading eyes. 
"Fredrick." He said, smiling. "Fredrick Matthews."
The girl nodded. "I'm Gracielon."
"It's nice to meet you, Gracielon."
Her father looked at him. "I'm Ulestron."
"Pleasure." Fredrick said, nodding towards him.
One of the couple looked at them. "I'm Olyvorio."
Their partner then spoke. "Instronum."
"I'm Hastrovengle." One of the teens said. It was one who resembled a snake.
"Yxlece." The second teen said. This one looked kind of like a human, but they had a trunk.
"Hey, I'm Pristin." The third teen said. This one had two heads, both of which looked the same. Only one spoke though, so maybe they were similar to Siamese twins.
The owner fidgeted slightly. "I'm Par'keen."
Everyone mumbled their hellos, and then they descended into silence. Fredrick shuffled slightly, trying to get more comfortable. However, he was cut off by the sound of banging outside.
Gunshots.
Gracielon whimpered, pressing her face into her father. Hastrovengle, Yxlece, and Pristin all huddled together, similar to what Olyvorio and Inatronum were doing. Par'keen stood up, and stood by the door. He held a metal bar in his hand that he had taken off the wall. That would do pretty much nothing against a ranged weapon.
Fredrick stood up and walked towards the door. Par'keen looked to him. "Fredrick, I recommend that you stay back."
"Actually, sir, it is you who needs to stay back." Fredrick said as he unzipped his hoodie. He pulled his hood off, and heard a few gasps behind him. He tore it off and then showed Par'keen his USL badge. "I will protect you all. Stay behind me."
Par'keen nodded as he stepped back. Fredrick pulled his gun out of the holster and cocked it. He stepped back enough and then pointed it towards the door.
The sound of footsteps was heard. Fredrick bit his lip and readied himself. His finger brushed the trigger. The door was unlocked, and then it opened.
Fredrick looked up. Standing there was a figure dressed in black with their head wrapped up, hiding their identity. Fredrick quickly aimed his gun as they raised theirs. He shot their thigh, causing them to Yelp in Lin and hit the ground. Fredrick pulled them inside and shut the door. He quickly grabbed his hoodie and tore it, creating strips that he used to tie the fiend up and bandage their wound. They could be used for information.
He quickly pulled out his communicator. Fredrick called Isaac, who answered.
"Fred, what's wrong?"
"I've subdued one of the gunmen."
"Really? That's awesome! Keep him in place so we don't lose him."
"That's the plan." Fredrick said as he pushed the attacker into a corner. Par'keen held onto his gun, and was standing in front of the civilians. Fredrick nodded in thanks to him. "I've gotta go. He's bleeding. I am praying I didn't hit any important veins or something."
"What is he, Fred?"
Fredrick frowned. He reached up towards the wrap. The figure attempted to fight back, but could not. Fredrick gently unwrapped the mask, and then his jaw dropped.
"Shit."
11 notes · View notes
klunkcat · 5 years
Text
We can be stronger, now
After months of dating, Zira finally introduces Crowley to his family. Crowley is, understandably, less than thrilled about the whole thing.
(Takes place in my snake vet human AU featuring: an established relationship, a lot of soft tender feelings, and some not so great emotionally manipulative content from the Upstairs Gang, with bonus comfort and general tooth rotting fluff to make up for it!) 
“It’s a dinner invite,” Zira announced, with a lot less than actual announcing and more feigned indifference and carefully hushed tones. Crowley’s imaginary hackles were already rising.
“Someone mailed you a dinner invite? As in, sent the whole thing over through the post. With a seal?”
Zira huffed with a genuine modicum of indignance, “some people do prefer the written word, you know.”
Crowley rolled his eyes good naturedly and flourished a hand Zira’s direction without bothering to stand from his strewn position on the old couch. “Well, lets have a look at this awe-inspiring penman ship then.”
Zira acquiesced and shuffled into the kitchenette to set the kettle, tittering quietly about dying arts and the old days and what not. Crowley smiled to himself, a little sickeningly sappy, bundled up with thoughts of slow mornings in dewy sunrises and warm mugs. It was fine that he let himself become absolutely overrun by his constant soppy gooey feelings, so long as no one was around to witness it.
Oh, we definitely have to go to whatever this event is, he’d decided, taking in the flowing script and very official looking parchment. They’ll have the little prawn cocktails and all the cheeses the mind could comprehend. Zira would love it. He’d developed himself a nice daydream of crashing fancy dinners with Zira, all flustered and giggly, just to show him off a little. Have everyone in a tizzy over the dashing man with the bleached white hair, absolutely spoil Zira with the little appetizers and drinks. So enveloped in the absolute sticky, syrupy sappiness of it all, he’d nearly missed the name attached at the very end. Not that it was particularly legible, all over done with loops and twists like that. Seriously, those rich types must have a different alphabet entirely. Bit like doctor’s handwriting, but he’d learned to decipher Anathema’s.
Signed, The Phael Estate
“That’s funny, isn’t it?” He called towards the kitchen. “Having a last name like that. Here I’d thought yours was strange.” Then again, he was the one who adamantly refused to be called anything other than his last name. Glass houses and rocks and what not.
“P-H-A-E-L. Huh. What are the odds of that. Switch two letters and you’d be practically family!” He snorted and glanced up towards Zira as he brought their tea over. Oddly, Zira didn’t look all that amused. He looked almost uncomfortable, in fact. Nervous, even.
“Something like it,” Zira agreed, smiling weakly.
Crowley sat up straighter.
“Angel,” he said, a bit blankly. “Is this a dinner invite. From your family?”
Zira winced. “Afraid so.”
“Your family. As in, Michael, the sister that called you on your 21st birthday to tell you that you were being financially cut off? The one that returned your Christmas gift in front of you? That sister?”
Zira sipped his tea, “Water under the bridge, really, dear.”
Zira didn’t talk about them much, or ever, really. They’d been properly dating for about four months, friends for a while longer, and the only snippets Crowley had managed to steal were all vague and distant sounding. Something about a family company, about moving out fairly young. A throw away comment here and there. Boring stuff, sounded like.
He’d always sort of assumed they were that uppity classical type of people, the ones with wire gates and a refusal to look beyond them. A miracle in itself that someone as passionate and curious as Zira had come out of it in one piece. So he thought.
“Alright,” he said, easy as you please.
Zira blinked up at him with a touch too much of surprise for Crowley’s liking. Meeting the parents was a right of passage of some sort, he figured. A step in a long list of eventualities he would dive head first into just to hold Zira’s hand a little while longer. He wanted to do everything with Zira, whatever he wanted to do.
Although Zira was trying very hard to appear completely neutral, Crowley had gotten quite good at picking up on the smaller details. The nervous twitch of his fingers, the overly casual short sentences paired with wide earnest eyes. Picking up on the context of these sorts of things sort of just came with the territory of staring adoringly at him whenever he got the chance, he supposed. Sappy. Eugh. He knew enough though to see that Zira absolutely wanted to go, or at least felt obligated to and didn’t know how to shuffle that particular responsibility off.
If there was anything Crowley excelled at, it was being irresponsible. Something for another day, for all the infinities of days he’d fight to spend with Zira. Stuffy and uncomfortable family dinners be damned. At the very least, they could go down swinging.
“So, which tie should I wear then?”
“Didn’t fancy dressing the part? I told you a good haircut would do wonders for those bags under your eyes, darling.”
“How’s your book store struggling on these days, hm? I thought for sure I’d heard about a ‘for sale’ postage, happy to hear you’re still keeping it afloat.”
“Really, you should ask about your cousin Urie, makes a pretty penny in the industry you know. Messing about with hobbies is all well and good until you need to think of settling down.”
Crowley regretted this evening beyond his capacity to regret anything else in his life. And he’d once had the great idea of picking an 8am class in college, before he’d dropped that whole thing.
Stuffy and uncomfortable clearly hadn’t met the Phael family, or they’d up their game.
The dining hall they’d found themselves shoved into unceremoniously could not possibly be dripping with more chandeliers and dazzling bits of metal and glass if it tried. Despite wearing his best suit, having Zira fret over his tie and spend hours debating which one best complimented Crowley’s hair (a debate that had neatly been side tracked by a whole lot of snogging), and despite Zira’s absolutely manic desire to press every seam and steam every wrinkle, he still felt wildly underdressed. The feeling had spawned when they’d rolled up through a private gate onto a tree lined roadway, escalated when Crowley had seen the massively sprawling plot of land, and only increased since.
None of which would be remotely bothersome, of course, if Zira hadn’t been growing increasingly quiet throughout their evening. Crowley could handle snobs, could handle the side glances and the frowns at his tattoos and piercings (Zira had half vaguely warned him they were on the conservative side when it came to body modifications. Conservative as in, preferred amount being none, actually), hell, he could handle the weird and invasive insinuations about dating Zira for his ‘connections’ (whatever that meant). It wasn’t like he hadn’t been through that inspiring jaunt a time or two with his own family.
The comments about Zira, on the other hand set his teeth utterly on edge. If they made it out of this evening, Crowley was going to buy them both the fanciest wine they could afford. Actually, he’d buy it either way. They’d probably need the respite, alive or otherwise.
“Brother, really. Have you lost all sense of self image? Phael’s do not slouch.” Michael frowned at him from across the table, and Zira’s ears turned red. He said nothing, but slowly and forcibly slid his shoulders down from his ears and sat up primly. “Although, I suppose you want nothing to do with the family, regardless. Buying a legal name change, and all.” She scoffed, loudly.
“Now, now.” Gabriel chuckled. “It’s not like he changed it entirely. Speaking of changing, I had wondered if you had reconsidered my offer?”
Zira visibly tensed, as though he’d almost instinctively pulled his shoulders back upwards. He cleared his throat after a long moment, a practiced smile firmly in place. “Oh, I… I certainly considered it! Unfortunately, that is. Er. Selling the shop is quite impossible, at this current venture.”
“Hemming and hawing is unbecoming, Zira,” Uriel said from farther down the table. Zira’s smile read more like gritted teeth. Crowley fantasized about throwing the entire table over, just to get more than a placid blink in reaction from Uriel.
“I am quite firm in my decision, that is to say… well. No. I have not reconsidered, Gabriel.”
Gabriel, who up until this point had seemed like the most disconnected nonplussed of the family, frowned. Then his features flattened entirely. “I commend your decisiveness, if nothing else. Well then, onto other news! Brother, we haven’t seen you in a few years. Gosh, not even sure how many.”
“Three,” Zira said, into his dinner more than anything else.
“Yes, of course. Three long, very interesting years. Tell us what you’ve been up to, hm?”
“Well,” Zira started, and paused. Surreptitiously, Crowley slid his hand onto his boyfriend’s knee, squeezing gently in support.
“Um. Actually, I adopted a snake.”
Michael looked positively horrified. Gabriel’s expression crumpled inwards. If Crowley wasn’t so furious about the entire thing, and desperately attempting to keep the evening at a level pace to get them both out as fast as possible, he might have laughed.
“A snake?!”
“Yes,” Zira brightened, unfolding himself from his stiff posture. “He’s quite the handsome snake too, a lovely shade of deep brown and this dark blue. His name is Oscar, after Oscar Wilde of course. He’s a rosy boa, and. Oh, it’s an excellent story come to think of it, but Oscar’s the reason me and Cro-Anthony, got together! It was because he escaped one night and—”
“Zira,” Gabriel interrupted, looking for all the world like he was talking down to a small, particularly hyperactive child. “You’re telling me you keep that creature, in your home?”
“Well, yes. Where else would I keep him?” Zira asked with a strange half laugh.
“Can’t exactly let him keep on living in the vents,” Crowley added. “Dirty in there. Might come out as a dust bunny instead, then what would we do with all the mice?”
Zira snorted, loudly.
Oh, the look on Gabriel’s face was priceless.
“Well, good to see your severance package went to good use then,” Michael cut into her stake, pointedly. Crowley achingly wanted to go into detail about the amount of customers that just adored Zira’s work, about the donations from the nearby locals aiming to keep his store open as a ‘vital part of the local scenery’ when the income had been sparse one winter. Zira had made him promise not to, though. Something about them preferring things small and unobtrusive, although Crowley was starting to think they preferred to think of Zira that way, more than anything else.
“I do wish you had found. Better coping methods. Rebelliousness isn’t an inherited trait, after all.” She gave a long level stare Crowley’s way. Ah, subtlety thy name is certainly not Michael Phael.
“I suppose snakes aren’t for everyone,” Zira smiled, uncomfortably, shooting confused glances Crowley’s way. Easy enough for Crowley to reign in his self defensive habits, he hadn’t even flinched. He’d much rather she go on poking at him than making that awful shuttered look appear on Zira’s lively face, anyways.
Dinner seemed to carry on with similar fashion, little pointed passive aggressions here and there, barbed words snuck in behind compliments. It was an emotional wasteland if Crowley’d ever seen one, and he’d thought his family was snarky. At least with his adopted siblings there’d be a straight-faced insult one could snap back at, maybe a punch or two if they were particularly heated. Not that any of them meant it, of course. Growing up in ‘rough circumstances’ had just given them all a particular coded language of their own. Wildly unhealthy, sure, but there you go.
Verbal sparring matches were entertaining only so far as they didn’t sink in too deep. Crowley was beginning to see that these awful ice picks of words and insults had been hacking for years.
The distance and vague cold sentiments made perfect, horrible, sense.
They’d almost made it to the end of the evening without too many emotional scars, the bottle of wine in Crowley’s mind nearly tangible with reality. Finish line practically within arms reach, clock hand ticking down to the ‘Acceptable Time Spent With Awful InLaws’ territory, when the sucker punch came.
And what a wallop it was.
“Sandalphon, why don’t you tell them about your business? He’s made amazing headway with his business degree, graduated with honours.”
Sandalphon’s smile slid back, “We’re talking to investors in New York.”
“New York, he says!” Gabriel guffawed. “I can’t wrap my head around it. All that from a few years in school, hm? Speaking of, Anthony, what did you say you did?”
Crowley took a large sip of wine (awful stuff, no taste in reds at all, this lot). “I work at a vet clinic.”
“Is that a difficult path? Veterinarian school is quite the under taking from what I’ve read,” Michael swirled her salad around casually. ‘Casually’, air quotes added via Crowley’s internal bullshit detector.
Zira’s lips had thinned. Crowley was definitely missing a particular puzzle piece here, and he tread carefully.
“Can be. If you finish it,” he shrugged.
“Oh? And you didn’t?” Gabriel’s eyes were a little too wide, sparking with something devious like he’d sensed a spot in his armour. Crowley’d been through this song and dance a few times, however. One didn’t get through life without an unwarranted opinion or two with as many visible piercings as he did.
“Wasn’t for me. Went all the way to the final practicum, though. If you’ve got a sick pet anywhere I can probably suss out where things went wrong. Work as a receptionist with a brilliant vet, Anathema’s the best of the best. I’m the one who’s got all the discounts and tips, keep in mind.”
Gabriel tutted. “How long did you say you’ve known each other?” He gestured at Zira, almost as if he were taunting him. If Zira had heat vision, Gabriel would be melted on spot.
“I’m quite proud of him, actually. Besides, Anthony has nothing to do with my decisions, Gabriel.”
Gabriel leaned back, the picture of innocent confusion, complete with a pout. “You’re a Phael whether or not you want to be, Zira. We just want what’s best for you, and I’m concerned you may have fallen into the wrong influences in our time apart,” he held his hands up, palms out. How the bastard had managed to pronounce the spelling difference in his last name so pointedly was a real magician trick in itself, Crowley’s eyes narrowed.
This one was definitely the brown-nosing teacher’s pet type growing up, Crowley figured. The bastard that spread rumors just to watch other people fight it out. Jumping to claim martyrdom wasn’t in this season, Gabriel.
“Wrong influences?” Zira squeaked out.
That wicked glint appeared in his gaze, “Well, people of his… type don’t exactly give the best impressions.”
Well, that wasn’t particularly creative, was it. Type as in, what. Drop out? Pierced? ‘Alternative?’ Come on, at least have the bollocks to call me out on what you’re really thinking, you right prick.
Crowley was about to zing back a hilariously witty retort, when Zira slammed his cutlery down. “I will not have you speak of my boyfriend that way, Gabriel.”
“He’s only saying what we’re all worried about,” Michael added, in a tone like she was completely baffled by a teenagers irrational outburst. “I mean, he is wearing sunglasses to a dinner party.”
Crowley scoffed out loud, rolling his eyes loud enough to hear as well. He’d been wondering when that remark would crop up, if he were to be honest. Was usually the first thing on any tetchy relatives mind.
“I suppose you’d rather have me curled up with a migraine, then?” Crowley leaned backwards slowly on his chair, watching her eyes widen. “Poor service, that’d be. Not getting that five-star host rating.”
“I am entirely fed up with your judgements!” Zira stood up, abruptly, clanging the plate in front of him. The room fell silent. “It’s one thing for you to nitpick my every move, to-to call attention to any mild flaw, to insinuate time and time again how much I’ve failed the family name.” His voice trailed off slightly, a bit hoarse. Crowley was nearly steam rolled by a desire to Get Him Out Of There Immediately. Ice cream was likely in order. With all the toppings. Double the wine.
Zira’s expression steeled itself. “It’s quite another to belittle and insult a guest in your home! Crowley is the most cunning, brave, and selfless person I’ve ever met, and-and if you won’t take the time to appreciate that, then I don’t believe there’s any point of carrying this charade on any longer.”
He turned to Crowley, eyes blazing. Crowley never felt so achingly pained, inspired and awed, and wildly turned on in his life. He looked every bit like an avenging angel, with the chandelier light fanning behind him. His heart lurched and skipped in a confusing upset-and-absolutely-smitten sort of way.
“My dear, I do believe we’d best be leaving.” He held a hand out for Crowley to take, lifted him out of his seat, and kissed him gently. People talked of sparks and lightning but this, with the awe and hurt still roiling in the air, was purely embers and simmering brimstone. Crowley was maybe just a little beyond dazed.
“I’ll be out at the car,” he said, before storming down the hallway.
Everyone stayed utterly still for one long, unending moment. Crowley let out a breath, leaned forward and finished his wine in a single gulp.
“Well, wish I could say it was lovely to meet you all, but. You lot really are the worst.” He wanted to say something along the lines of ‘if you won’t love that man out there, I’ll do it for you, and I’ll do it twice as well’. Maybe something like ‘he’s the best person I’ve ever met, and he loves me, I almost feel sorry for you. Missing out on something that extraordinary’. Instead he just looked Gabriel in the eyes, slid his glasses down his nose enough to make sure he caught every word.
“None of you deserve him.”
The wine really was all around terrible, couldn’t be helped if he accidentally knocked it all over their fancy tablecloth on his way out. Not like it was a waste.
The drive home had been quiet. Not so much tense as… processing. The rain splattering against the windows, and the wipers pushing back and forth was enough ambience, besides.
Crowley wasn’t so much worried, either, as he was.... unsure. Zira looked drawn and stoic against the dim grey light, and he’d kept his eyes firmly in front of him, on the road, the whole way to his shop. There wasn’t the usual stress induced furrow between his brows, or the nervous fidgeting of his hands. Zira was still, withdrawn.
Alright, so he was worried.
The man had just stared down his entire array of siblings and cousins and told them to stuff it. Wildly impressive, that was. Crowley didn’t exactly have an excellent frame of reference for the emotional fall out, mind you, but he imagined it was likely spectacular in and of itself. Zira truly and deeply needed a proper hug and a good cuppa, if he was amendable to either idea.
Crowley was slightly afraid Zira would tell him to go home, mind blowing kiss and heart warming words aside. After all, he’d just sat there and let it happen, like a thorough pillock. Some boyfriend that made him.
He waited until they’d parked, shuffled inside, and locked the doors behind them, before placing a hand gently on Zira’s shoulder.
“You, erm. Want to talk?” He winced even as the words left his mouth, weak and not nearly wide enough to envelop the enormity of everything.
Zira didn’t look at him, and walked stiffly to the cupboard.
Crowley felt a little lost by the doorway; he’d decided already he wouldn’t be leaving Zira alone tonight unless the man asked for it, but he didn’t exactly know where he was needed, either. Zira was always the energetic one of the two of them, loudly unimpressed or visibly pleased, he’d never seen him anything but. This was new territory, a new song and dance. Another task on his list of infinities he wanted nothing more than learn the steps to.
Zira was leaning on the counter heavily, shoulders high around his ears, back turned. He practically radiated unhappiness, and it ached.
“Angel?”
“I’m sorry you had to see all of that, my dear,” Zira said, in a strange soft voice. “I really should have torn up the infernal invitation. Probably should have not gone at all.”
Crowley frowned. “No sorry, I don’t need a sorry. Not looking for one.” He shook his head, exhaling slowly, attempting to work through what Zira needed to hear. “Not like they’re a lovely bundle of peaches or anything, but.” He shrugged, maybe a little self consciously. “Glad we went.”
Zira glanced towards him, eyes wide and just on the side of too glassy for Crowley’s liking, before returning to fumble through cabinets with trembling hands. “You are? But… but, oh, I made such a mess of things.”
That was enough, more than enough. That was too much, in fact.  He snorted. “You?” He stepped forwards, dropping his coat on the armchair. “You were incredible. I think they had the mess side of things covered from the start. You just helped, you know, point it out.”
“Please, dear,” Zira’s voice was shaky, Crowley realized with an awful lurch.
He dropped his voice into something softer to match, gentling his expression. “Zira, what do you need?”
Zira closed a cupboard with a little too much force and whirled towards him. “I need you to. To... To be exactly- well, you!” His face screwed up, eyes closing. “What they implied of you was. Quite wrong, and you mustn’t believe a word of it, Crowley! You- they never have had a grasp on what things were worthwhile. You mustn’t listen to- to, well. What they said at the end was… it was bullshit. To be frank. And I’m sorry you had to hear it, along with the rest.”
Crowley’s heart did a funny thing, he had the very stark feeling then that he was missing a page or so from his script. “Angel, you know I can handle it. Slid right off me, you know.”
Zira shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to!” His whole body was trembling slightly, Crowley took another cautious step forward. There was something almost defensive about Zira’s expression, as though he was bracing for something. Crowley tried very, very hard not to be hurt by the implications there. He wasn’t sure if he fully succeeded.
“You shouldn’t either, you know.”
Zira’s lower lip trembled, and he caught it between his teeth, looking down. “Oh, it’s so terribly selfish. To think of my own pride when you. When they’d been so awful to you. You must know how wonderful you truly are, and, oh…. In comparison, I know, truly how I must seem, it’s only that…I hope your view of me hasn’t changed.” He shrugged a little, a helpless rise and fall of unsteady shoulders.
Crowley couldn’t help but move in, crowd Zira against the cupboard. He pulled the wineglass Zira had managed to snag from his hand with a patient delicacy, pressing his palm along the curve of Zira’s chin.
“Zira, angel. Do you really think that little of me?”
Zira’s eyes were impossibly round. “I… no! Oh, my dear, never, I’ll tell you every day how much I… I’d—It’s only. The things they said, about my failings—”
Crowley pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Nothing anyone could say would change that I know you, angel. They’re wrong.”
I would never think less of you, he thought, I want to know all of you. Difficult to think less of the entire bloody galaxy anyways, with how gone on you I am.
“They’re not,” Zira said, miserably.
Crowley’s next kiss was a gentle rebuke. He moved his other hand up to cradle Zira’s face between his palms, brushing a thumb across his cheekbone. Crowley frowned. “Mmmmn. Let’s check that, shall we? Let’s see...I love your curls, I love your books, I love your shop. That’s at least three things they got wrong right there.” He emphasized each statement with a press of his lips to Zira’s temple, his forehead, his nose.
Zira looked away, his ears went pink. Crowley pressed another kiss to his cheek, the corner of his mouth. “I love your stories, I love hearing about every thought that travels through your wonderful, fussy brain. I love when you’re bossy, when you’re particular, when you’re endlessly brave. I love that you chose your happiness over their stuffy money and rules. I love that you stood up to them, that you care. They don’t even know a good wine from a bad one, all that wealth and no sense anywhere in that whole sodding house. Zira Phale, they are wrong. Couldn’t be more wrong even if they told me Oscar was a bloody pigeon, in fact.”
Zira’s eyes were glowing, he looked awed and enraptured and something else that made him look almost ethereal. “Crowley,” he gasped.
Right, sappy. This was why he didn’t let his useless heart do the talking.
“It’s true.” Crowley grumbled, sweeping his hands down to Zira’s shoulders instead, just as Zira’s hands curled themselves against his lapels and dragged him back in for a searing kiss.
His brain went a bit soggy, for a moment his heart and head were in perfect unison.
“You forgot one.” Zira laughed, a tiny overwhelmed noise. “I love you, Anthony J. Crowley,” he added, a bit breathlessly, eyes twinkling.
“Oh,” Crowley said, dazed and feeling a bit like he could do with a good pinch but utterly refusing to wake up from whatever dream he’d stumbled into. Reality be damned. “That too. Me, uh. You. Also.”
Maybe he’d let his heart do the talking a bit more often, then.
Zira smiled, a full and beautiful thing. “So, which tie should I wear?”
Crowley wasn’t sure if his brain had entirely given out on him, or if this was the usual amount of Zira inspired confusion but all he could manage was a ‘ngh?’
“For meeting your family, I rather think we’re on a roll.Two birds one stone as they say, after all.
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rougespecial-blog · 6 years
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sweetheart hand // brian may
summary: in 1976, queen celebrate the release of their album a day at the races, which will cement their rise to fame (or notoriety). as it stands, though, you’re an artist who’s never heard of them, dragged along to the launch party by a friend.
a/n: really no warnings for this, some adult themes if you squint. title from tie your mother down. inspired by hearing brian talk about the excitement and excess of the day at the races era, when the boys finally had a bit of money. feedback is nice requests are open etc etc
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you’ve barely stepped over the hotel’s threshold when a man in a glittering silver jacket - shoulders wide enough that doorways are giving him trouble - brushes past you. you’ve felt underdressed before, but this borders on ridiculous. three more men are trailing after him, wearing exactly the same thing. one of them holds out a tray towards you and you realise with a slight feeling of dismay that you look more like house staff than the actual waiters. you take a champagne coupe from him, admiring your mysterious host’s taste in glassware if nothing else.
it’s a miracle that you’re here, even plainly dressed in your jeans and white blouse.  you rolled your eyes, initially, when your friend tom called and asked you to be his date to an album release party. he mentioned names you’d never heard - one that had to be made up -  and insisted that this was a once in a lifetime event, that you would forever live in agonising regret if you didn’t go. you told him that you’ve both had your fair share of outrageous parties, thanks very much, that the london art scene isn’t particularly starved for big personalities or expensive vices.
‘i’m telling you - they’re about to explode. this album will be massive. you’ll tell your grandchildren you were at this party. besides, the lead singer - that’s this mercury fellow -  he’s really a stunning entertainer.’
‘i’ve never even heard of them, tom.’
‘well, that doesn’t say much. you’re a philistine when it comes to these things. please leave the canvases alone for a night. they’ll still be there in the morning.’
you pause, biting the inside of your cheek. ‘you’re paying for the cab.’
‘always, dear. and i’ll pay it twice if you don’t have a good night.’
so, here you are, champagne in hand and tom at your side, jostled by the most colourful variety of people you’ve ever seen. his eyeshadow and latex belt - you had laughed hysterically at him in the taxi - don’t seem so ridiculous now.
tom dutifully stays by your side for all of fifteen minutes. he’s much better at these things than you’ve ever been, rubbing shoulders and drawing people naturally in with his never-ending compliments. and the guests - you see a few artists you recognise from galleries, but even they seem different, less inhibited, in this space. a gramophone in the corner blares a classical overture that people are somehow managing to dance along with. you need another drink, badly. when you turn to tell tom this, he’s already disappeared into the fray.
as you wind through the venue looking for more drinks, you overhear snippets of conversation. people gush about the band, the frontman, the party itself. horrifyingly, you hear more than one person comment about how there just wasn’t enough money left over from the band’s last release to make this a really smashing one. you can’t imagine what they’d have this place looking like with a bigger budget.
by the time you stumble through a door that leads to an empty staff kitchen, you’ve just about had it. with the excess, the gratuity. you know you weren’t exactly choosing an austere or subdued lifestyle in modern art, but the cock-first showiness of these rock ’n’ roll types is really starting to get up your nose. mercifully, the first fridge you open still has a few bottles of champagne in it.
it’s just as you pop the cork, the bottle wedged under your arm and foam starting to run out over your fingers, that the door swings open and someone catches you red-handed. it’s not one of the silver-suited waiters - in fact, he might be the most ordinarily-dressed person here, after you. he’s a tall, lanky thing in jeans and a black shirt. if it weren’t for the mess of brown curls reaching his shoulders, you wouldn’t blink at him in the street.
‘that’s your personal bottle, i suppose?’
you blink at the champagne in your hand, then back to him. you have no idea how serious he’s being. ‘i was sent for,’ you answer coolly.
‘ah,’ he says, with a nod that’s too close to sarcasm for you. ‘by?’
you manage not to roll your eyes, though it’s close. you have no idea who this guy thinks he’s impressing as the personal arbiter of Who’s Allowed to Nick Champagne. ‘the band,’ you lie smoothly, turning away from him to refill your glass. ‘i’m a friend of the guitarist.’
you hear him laugh lightly as he steps all the way into the kitchen and closes the door behind him, reducing the din of the party to a distant hum. ‘well, if it’s on the band,’ he says, ‘can i have a glass?’
this is an improvement. you fetch another crystal glass from an overhead cupboard and fill it to the brim, turning around and handing it to him. he’s leaning back against the counter opposite, giving you a chance to appraise him better as he takes a sip of the champagne. you realise his shirt is fashionably just-too-small, with a wide collar that skirts around his collarbones and the hem resting tightly against his hips.
‘so,’ he says - and you remember yourself, looking very decidedly at his face, not his hips - ‘if you know the band, what are they like?’
you pause, trying to scrutinise his expression. he could be sincere, or he could be anyone - a journalist, a friend of the band playing a trick. to hell with it.
‘you want me to be honest?’
he grins at you, laughter swimming in his dark eyes. ‘please,’ he says. ‘brutally honest.’
‘i think they’re a bunch of tossers, really. just look at the state of this party. it’s fucking excessive. these rockstars - they always want everyone to know how much they have, all the time. i find it exhausting.’
something you said seems to have pleased him enormously, and he raises his glass to you, grinning. ‘you know what - i’ve heard the exact same thing.’
‘so how did you end up here tonight, then?’
‘friend of a friend,’ he shrugs, tracing his fingertip around the rim of his glass.
‘and what do you do? you’re not in the industry, are you?’
he’s silent for a second - he seems reticent to tell you, and you wonder for a moment if he is in the industry you’ve just trashed. but then he clears his throat and smiles softly. ‘i’m a teacher, actually. a maths teacher in brixton.’
you feel your jaw drop involuntarily. ‘a maths teacher who just happens to moonlight with coke-sniffing rockstars on the weekend.’
‘oh, come off it,’ he laughs. ‘i suppose you’ve got some incredibly cosmopolitan career.’
‘i’m an artist,’ you tell him, the second truth you’ve told him. ‘a painter.’
‘right, well, there you go. would i have seen any of your -’
he doesn’t finish his sentence before the door opens and the music and chatter of the party floods into the room again. a blond sticks his head around the door and sighs in exaggerated relief.
‘there you are, bri, we were looking for you fucking everywhere. they want us to play a few songs off the record. fred’s been sat at the piano warming up for the past fifteen minutes.’ it’s then that he notices that you’re there, too, and a slow smile appears on his face. ‘sorry, love. didn’t mean to disturb your alone time.’
before you can clarify that this is definitely not “alone time”, he shuts the door again with one final call of ‘five minutes, brian!’. it’s only the look on your new friend - brian’s - face, like he’s waiting to be scolded, that makes you piece together what just happened.
‘he just - you - some songs off the record - fred! - you’re -’ you can’t finish any of your thoughts as you point at him fiercely, eyes wide.
brian looks halfway between apologising and bursting into laughter at your indignation. ‘you lied first! “i’m a friend of the guitarist”.’
‘and i suppose that’s who i’m looking at now, yeah? not a maths teacher from brixton - honestly, a maths teacher -’
‘that part was true! i only just handed in my resignation.’
as if that makes it any better. you roll your eyes and swallow the rest of your champagne in one mouthful. ‘god, and i called you all tossers.’
‘did you mean it, that stuff about excess?’ he asks, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. ‘or were you lying there, too?’
you cover your eyes with one hand, trying to think before you answer - for once - but he keeps talking before you can.
‘because it was nice, you know. normally everyone i meet at these things wants to blow smoke up my arse about how great we are. making sure they get invited to another one.’
‘and he’s modest, too,’ you smile.
‘oh, come on. listen to a few songs and then you tear me to shreds with your criticism.’
there’s enough clamour in the party that no-one notices the two of you slip out of the kitchen together - you can imagine the rumours. brian finds his bandmates who’ve assembled themselves on the small hotel stage, probably only built for a lounge singer or two. there’s the blond from before perched at the drums, a bass player who leans casually against an amplifier, and ready at the piano sits an exotic-looking thing in a massive fur coat. freddie, you realise, the one you’ve heard the most about. you find a decent vantage point, standing against the wall at the back of the room, sipping a fresh glass of champagne.
you’re sure if you heard these songs on the radio you wouldn’t scramble to write down their names, but there’s something about the energy the band has - a sort of control over the room, an assured confidence in their ridiculousness - that works. when freddie isn’t at the piano he struts around the stage as if it’s an arena - the guests shriek when he sheds his coat dramatically. even brian, the man who you truly believed was only a maths teacher, seems imbued with an infectious bravado, gesturing for people to sing along, putting his shoulders and hips into his playing. and can he play. you don’t know the first thing about the technicalities of guitar, but your hands hurt watching him finish up what must be his sixth solo of the twenty-minute set. and with that, the men give a bow, someone turns the music up again, and they slip offstage.
you finally find tom a half hour after the performance, smoking in the courtyard and chatting with some photographers. he hugs you as if you’ve been separated for years.
‘i told you you’d enjoy yourself, darling. what have you been up to?’
‘nothing special. i was thinking of heading off soon, actually.’
‘oh, come on. it’s barely eleven.’
‘we got here at eleven. it’s almost one!’
he’s just about roped you into sitting down with his new friends - you do sound rather like your own mother, complaining about the time - when you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder.
‘there you are. i was wondering if you’d already left.’
if you didn’t recognise the voice, the look on tom’s face would be revealing enough as his eyes dart, wide, from you to brian before he points at you accusingly. you shrug in answer to his silent question, and turn to face brian.
‘i didn’t - i thought you’d have - you know, band things. i was about to go home, actually.’
‘i was being serious about wanting you to tear me to shreds.’ tom must look alarmed behind you, because he hurriedly adds, ‘with your criticisms, you know. you’ve seen us play now.’
you laugh and duck your head. ‘i don’t have an awful lot.’
‘well, tell me anyway. but not… this, here, it’s a bit -’ he glances around at the din, at couples dancing wildly, drinks being poured. ‘some of us have gone upstairs for a quiet one, if you’d like.’
‘i think -’
‘she would,’ tom pipes up, loudly, from behind you. you kick at him absently, but smile at brian.
upstairs turns out to be a private lounge with a few people scattered around talking amongst themselves and a jazz record playing quietly. among others, you notice the bass player from the band reclining easily with a woman, while a small ring of guests pour themselves whiskey and debate the new rush album. brian falls into a plush armchair and motions for you to do the same in one adjacent. when a waiter pushes past with a trolley of drinks you accept a cold beer, wanting something to ground you but nothing that will make you act more of a fool than you already have. brian does the same, and you sit in companionable silence for a minute as you start drinking.
‘it’s hard to bear, after a while. i always end up escaping like this,’ he says after a moment.
‘oh, i wasn’t too worried about that. i’ve had a few wild nights.’
he raises an eyebrow at you. ‘you painters party often, then?’
‘it’s ridiculous,’ you say, grinning. you prop your legs up on the arm of his chair, crossed at the ankle. ‘not so much now, but i was all over it when i was younger. exposed to all kinds of illicit substances and, ah… sexual confusion.’
he tilts his head back and laughs at that. you watch the line of his throat, the pretty slice of his chest revealed by the shirt. absentmindedly, his hand comes to rest on his chair but instead finds your shin. he taps a long, silver-ringed finger against the cuff of your jeans. ‘tell me about your art, then.’
it feels like minutes pass as you chat, but it must be hours - judging by the way the guests around you are shuffling out or even falling asleep on the various loveseats. you tell him about your painting, and he laughs fondly, bright-eyed, as you stand and gesture wildly to describe the motions of abstract art. you swap story after story - him of life on tour and ridiculous record labels, you of parties and snobbish art collectors. at one point you’re nearly breathless with laughter over his imitations of the kids he used to teach in brixton. the conversation turns more subdued when he tells you about his bandmates. he’s obviously immensely fond of them all, even as he confesses that they drive him up the wall half the time.
‘you promised your criticisms of us, by the way. i haven’t forgotten.’
‘i did no such thing,’ you correct him, ‘but i’ll give them anyway. you’re all very fluid, especially that singer of yours. the way you take up space - i think you wouldn’t be able to carry off the sound any other way. and you - you’re lovely to watch. you look like the composition’s coming right out of you, in the same instant that you’re playing it.’
he gives your leg a gentle squeeze - his hand is so big that it nearly meets around it. ‘you’re thinking like an artist,’ he says. ‘about the way we look. the form.’
you feel suddenly scrutinised, and you’re not sure why. your cheeks are hot. ‘i’m not sure how to think any other way,’ you tell him.
the record has finished and no one’s thought to flip it, either asleep or too caught up in their own conversations. you mumble something about fixing it and stand, smooth out the creases in your shirt. as you walk past brian, he catches you by the hip, softly but just enough to make you stop in your tracks. you look down at him, surprised. hyper-aware of the warmth of his hand even through your jeans. of the eyes looking up at you, expectant and dark enough to fall into.
‘hello,’ he says softly.
there’s nothing else to do but bend down and kiss him. his hand stays at your hip as yours come to his face, the corner of his jaw tense where he’s leaning up to reach you. you forget how simple and wonderful and teenaged a kiss can be. just him and his mouth, obliging under yours. a barely-there scratch of stubble and his curls brushing against your face. the smell and taste of him, beer and cologne and champagne.
your conversation earlier in the kitchen comes rushing back all of a sudden. you pull yourself away, smoothing your hair, leaving him looking flushed and slightly bewildered.
‘this is probably a bit of a novelty, yeah? attain the unattainable.’
‘sorry?’
‘i don’t know,’ you laugh. ‘you talk about all those women saying whatever you like to get you in bed. and the one who says she can’t stand all this rockstar shit, ends up being the one who…’
you trail off, imagining you sound fairly ridiculous, and brian stands. he’s a good head taller than you like this, though the way he carries himself stops it from being intimidating.
‘would you feel the same way if i was really just a maths teacher, then? or one of your artist friends?’
you laugh, taking a swig of your beer. ‘i suppose not.’
‘because without being - ah - presumptuous, i don’t want tonight to wind up some kind of way because of what you think my life is like.’
he perches on the arm of his chair now that you’ve visibly relaxed, and trails a hand down from your elbow to take yours in his. you step closer to him, standing between his legs, your faces almost level.
‘right. and how did you want tonight to wind up?’
he shrugs easily. pulls your hand up to his mouth and presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist. ‘show me some of your work, i suppose. haven’t really gotten a feel for it yet.’
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hyojinrk-archived · 5 years
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#5020 — kim hyojin &  #5025 — kim seunghun ( @rkseunghun​ ) 
MGA 5 EPISODE 3: hwasa′s twit, rearranged ( 0:10 - 1:12 ; 1:28 - 2:26 ) — spicy pork ver.
the moment when it finally sinks in that his name was not called for eliminations, hyojin starts to genuinely wonder if this is some kind of mistake, or if he actually deserved to move on. it physically hurts him to see how wonpil reacts when his name is called and criticism is doled out, reminding him of a similar situation last week -- the familiar, heart-wrenching feeling of guilt and shock and confusion. it only takes one lift of a microphone, one decision for him to now be completely and fully alone. 
perhaps that’s not factually true. in fact, living proof of the counterstatement to that was sitting right next to him on his other side, another piece of evidence directly behind him. sakura and seunghun. somewhere else in the audience is sungwoon, probably with daniel and the other empty enigma members. he feels foolish for even thinking that he might lose them -- they were incredibly talented, after all -- but then again, he had thought wonpil to be one of the most talented vocals that he knew. it’s jarring and exciting altogether; he can’t seem to get over the fact that now his other cousin was gone, too, but there’s an adrenaline rush accompanying the realization that he now was expected to move onto the next challenge. he looks around the studio with wide eyes, almost not even registering the next thing that the ceos say.
duos. two contestants, partnered with each other to deliver a performance. on impulse, his eyes flicker to his other side, half to avoid wonpil and half because he’s looking at seunghun. shaking his head, he resists the urge to glance behind him at a certain girl, instead staying tight-lipped and tense on his seat.
minho and nakyung. strange duo, but it’d be interesting if they could pull that off. yewon and minkyung, yoona and jackson -- rapper-rapper -- kyungsoo and yugyeom. hyojin winces at that combination, remembering vividly that kyungsoo was a singer, while yugyeom was a dancer. inwardly, he wonders if he’ll also find himself partnered with a dancer, and feels his heart drop to the bottom of his stomach. he’s fairly sure that if that was the case, the end of his journey on this show would end rather quickly. for the sake of him and his partner-to-be, he desperately hopes that isn’t the case.
some more names fly by, and he feels a slow sinking disappointment as more vocalists passed by, including sungwoon. without knowing, his fingers cross over each other and he starts to repeat a mantra of names in his head in a desperate hope.
kim hyojin and kim seunghun. his heart drops when he hears one of the names he was repeating in his head flit by, and he looks devastated for a second when he realizes the name partnered with it. kim hyojin. hyojin. hyo --
“oh my god.” he hears a hearty laugh resounding next to him, and his head whips to the side, eyes wide and jaw hitting the floor. blinking multiple times when seunghun asks him for confirmation of what they both just heard, clearly not believing the coincidence himself, hyojin finds himself lifting up his hand dumbly, showing the male his still crossed fingers before breaking into a goofy grin. “it worked, i think.”
with that, he crushes the younger in a hug, before pulling away and chuckling at his comment. “what should we sing this time? monodrama? yanghwa brdg? there are still so many more tears to be shed.” he says it with a loud laugh, waving his hand teasingly to show he was joking. they leave the studio together once the filming ends, hyojin’s arm slung over seunghun’s shoulder affectionately and the two of them chattering about potential songs to perform.
even when it feels like his luck has just run out, he feels like he’s on cloud nine.
❀ PREPARATIONS;
he feels like an absolute coward for asking wonpil for his electric guitar. it’s obvious in his stance and the way his fingers fiddle with each other that he knows he could be reopening wounds, wounds that hadn’t even started healing yet but were being stitched together by calloused hands. he knows, and he feels awful, atrocious, like a monster. he hadn’t even dared to talk to seungmin face-to-face after the latter had been eliminated, and the fact that this deeply set feeling, this desperation to do all that he could to protect his spot in the competition because now seunghun was on the line, too was more important than his sense of decency made him sick.
hyojin almost cries when wonpil agrees, unaffected, excited, even, showing him where it had been stored away in the little apartment of theirs, well loved but still beautiful and shining in his eyes. the older seems proud of him instead of annoyed or bitter, supportive. it fills hyojin with a newfound sense of determination, because, no, he shouldn’t be ashamed. he shouldn’t feel bad for trying his best and making use of what he had.
this wasn’t for the sake of winning. this was for the sake of something a little bigger than that, for the sake of the slowly growing hole in his heart from not being able to do what he’s been wanting to do his whole life. no matter what happens, he needs to leave the stage on thursday knowing that he’s done all that he could.
even though it’s too formal considering how close the two of them were, he turns and bows deeply to his cousin in thanks, not sure how to classify the thickness in his throat and how his eyes started to water.
with some careful guidance on where to find the amplifier and what to do with it, and some even more googling later, hyojin finds himself holding the guitar in his hand, the heavy metal ( no pun intended ) feels like the many burdens he’s started to take on. he’s only just made amends with seungmin not too long ago, but the insecurities are starting to well up. the bandaids he’s tried to put on the wounds on his heart from the elimination of his cousins left other parts of him open and vulnerable. he had watched seungyeon’s live the other day, and although he found himself smiling at her show of support for him and seunghun, he couldn’t help but feel the same tug at his heart that always came up when he heard her voice or saw her face. 
he’s been so busy worrying about mgas and his other friends that he’s almost completely forgotten about the heartache he had gone through before, heartache that was in the process of being patched up by sakura. even then, he wonders if she’ll see his stage too this week, and what she’ll think of it. absentmindedly strumming a chord, a habit he’s picked up to break himself out of any dark thoughts, he jumps at the loud feedback, suddenly remembering that he was holding an electric guitar and not an acoustic one. right, he needs to focus.
“oh, i like it, it like it!” sitting up from his initially slouched position, hyojin almost startles gamja into falling off his lap, catching the adorable puppy before it could scamper off and trying to soothe it. seunghun’s been playing the keyboard he brought for a few minutes now, messing around with the song choice they had decided on. it’s basically a given that they wouldn’t be doing a ballad -- they’ve both sang plenty enough themselves, and he’s sure that the judges knew well enough that they were both capable vocally of singing heart-jerking tunes.
he’s fairly sure he’d be smacked on the shoulder if he suggested something trot -- although he couldn’t help himself from making a joke or two, snickering. the younger male always brought out the childish and energetic side of him, and every time they were together in the studio, it felt like all of his worries had melted away, and he could do things without a care in the world. he could sing any song in his music library and seunghun would be able to pick up after it, their music tastes going hand in hand. after some preliminary discussions, they had agreed on adding some electric guitar into the mix, providing more of a rock-house fusion of the hwasa song, something smooth and a little sexy, even. 
perhaps a little shyly, he even finds himself suggesting that he bring in the guitar to play during the performance, both as a shock factor and a tribute to wonpil, although he didn’t say the latter out loud. it feels wrong to go into the studio without such a comforting presence next to him. after three years of seeing him as an older brother, hyojin feels like it’s morally incorrect to not have a piece of his cousin with him when he sings, especially when wonpil won’t be there physically.
the rearrangement goes smoothly from there, and a few impromptu song covers and more fiddling later, they already have an outline done. the rest of the week passes like this, a mix of fun and frantic preparation, and when they part on the final day before d-day, hyojin feels like the guitar case on his back was significantly lighter than it first had been when he picked it up.
❀ IN THE STUDIO;
“woah, looking good~” greeting seunghun with a half-smile, hyojin laughs as he sees his friend with his new hair color. he had to say, ash brown suited the male well, giving him a more mellow and mature look in comparison to the blonde hair he had before. not that he looked better or worse -- it was arguably as good as the one before, but it was definitely new. hyojin’s heart may lie elsewhere, but he genuinely meant the compliment when he said it. they make their way into the studio, the taller’s arm looped around his shoulder, both dressed in loose dress shirts and hyojin’s slightly unbuttoned at the top, tie purposefully loosened and the smooth expanse of his neck shown.
he has a head of bright red hair himself, having gone to a hairstylist recommended by a busking friend of his who had gotten their hair dyed at the same place. if his best friend was going to do it, he might as well do the same. besides, he had always wanted to try out red -- at the very least, he could take this performance as an excuse to do so. it’s kind of funny at the same time, because ever since they made their duo name, they’ve been joking about dying their hair to match it. turns out it actually did happen.
as they sit down next to each other, hyojin smiles softly at seunghun’s question, nodding. “i’m as prepared as i could be, you?” as the male responds, hyojin finds himself absentmindedly fixing a tuft of seunghun’s light brown hair that had gotten rumpled by the cool air of the studio, putting it back in place and patting his friend’s head affectionately. it was a pretty normal gesture considering how close the two of them were, and hence, passed by naturally. “let’s enjoy the stage today.”
and with that, the recording starts. there are a few explosive performances, many of them entertaining and some even soulful. admittedly, hyojin and seunghun were going in the later half, and although he tries his best not to get affected, he can feel the nerves ebbing away at him. nevertheless, he thoroughly enjoys the stages. 
making a sound of surprise and shaking his head in happiness when he hears the song that sungwoon and his partner, jaemin, were performing, hyojin looks to seunghun with a grin. easy was for sure one of his favorite songs to listen to, the groove of wheein’s voice, coupled with the smoothness of sik-k giving it a high replay value. the both of them execute it well, and hyojin finds himself unable to stay still in his seat, grooving along. 
sakura’s stage with ryujin is equally stylish, albeit more upbeat and old-fashioned. he’s only heard the song a few times, but bond girl is for sure going on his playlist after watching. bopping his head to the addictive beat, he cheers for sakura and her partner, even chanting her name at one point while shaking his fists, like it was a fanchant and he was at an idol concert with a lightstick.
❀ ON THE STAGE;
soon enough, their names are called, and hyojin gets up, making his way to the stage with seunghun behind him, ducking his head shyly in thanks at the light applause that came up at the announcement of their team.
as he was older, he took the lead for their introduction, counting to two before doing their signature pose, raising his fists up to his cheeks in a crying gesture, instead biting down as if biting on a meat skewer, and then pretending to cry. it’s a silly thing they made up during one of their late night talks in the studio, with one stupid suggesting leading to another, and then them building up on each other until they came up with something both witty and embarrassing that they just had to do.
“hello, we’re spicy pork! i’m contestant #5020, kim hyojin,” he says, before letting seunghun finish, then adding, “like our team name and our hair colors,” he says, gesturing at seunghun’s head, then at his, “we’ll make sure to burn the stage with our spiciness!” 
with that, he tries not to get too embarrassed by the giggles that resound around the stage, keeping a straight face save for a little smile at seunghun, nodding back at him. putting the electric guitar strap over his shoulder, hyojin strums experimentally, hearing the sound echo faintly throughout the studio, before stepping up to his own standing microphone. 
the moment the instrumental starts and they begin to sing in harmony, hyojin’s smile drops immediately, and he takes on a fiercer, more serious expression. instead of vulnerable and gentle like it usually was, he finds himself wearing a new mask this time with seunghun. they were here to show new sides and new colors of themselves, keeping the judges and their competition on their toes. it wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest, surprisingly enough -- they’ve spent hours on hours refining the performance and their synergy did wonders for their performance, after all.
( bold = hyojin’s lines, normal = seunghun’s lines )
oh 너는 멍청이     you’re a twit 가녀린 심청이    like simcheong
taking the bottom note when harmonizing, hyojin looks straight at the judge panel as he sings with an almost intense gaze, nodding his head when seunghun sings the first line powerfully, starting to play the guitar, feeling the chords resound and blending in smoothly with the piano track going in, opening the floodgates to more instruments that they had pre-recorded when re-making the track. they had also modified the lyrics a little to fit the allotted time, rearranging them but not rewriting them.
after a few rifts, he sings into the microphone with seunghun again, their voices flowing together well and making for a pretty melody.
내가 멍청이     i’m a fool 너를 병들게 한 싸가지     i’m the wench for making you sick 한 번씩 주위를 둘러봐     why don’t you look around once in a while 너는 아파도 모르고 있잖아     even when you’re in pain, you don’t know
starting off the first verse with an almost sultry tone, hyojin decides to go for something more smooth than seunghun’s more powerful approach so that they don’t clash, setting the mood as he tilts his head while singing the second line, fingers slowly but surely plucking at the guitar strings on beat.
he turns his focus back to playing when seunghun continues, matching his smoothness to further build up until the drop.
you make me loyal you make me hero you make me genius 주는 게 많아 근데 왜 너만 불행해질까     you give so much but why are you the only unhappy one? 나를 위해서만 숨을 쉬니까     cuz you only breathe for me 너무 외로워 보여     you look so lonely
flowing along the notes as if riding waves, hyojin’s mouth turns up slightly at the corner to form a half smirk, his gaze never leaving the ceos. it’s a completely different persona than he actually has, but it fits well for some reason, and he feels like he’s pulling them in inch by inch, closing the distance with his aura.
this time, seunghun comes in with power, and hyojin feels himself shift into a grin, his body moving along to the music as he plays.
너는 멍청이     you’re a fool twit twit twit twit i do not like it nobody likes it 가녀린 심청이     like simcheong twit twit twit twit i do not like it nobody likes it
hitting the chorus, hyojin picks up his playing, singing into the microphone with a controlled power to hit the note with the correct mood. he sings the ‘twit’ line almost delicately, hitting the high note smoothly, before fading into seunghun’s voice for the hook. seunghun sings the next line with his own flow, making them both stand out despite matching so well.
아이야 아이야이야     just a baby baby sky야 아이야이야 야이야     baby sky, just a baby
transitioning into the bridge, hyojin stops playing to let the emptiness sink in, now singing softer and feeling the attention focus on him as he grabs the microphone for the first time during the performance, clutching onto it and having an indignant look in his eyes as he sings the line, as if calling everyone watching a baby. seunghun then comes in, changing the attention focus, and hyojin aids him, harmonizing for the high note and taking the bottom line.
he meets seunghun’s eyes at this, breaking into a smile when the male winks at him.
너는 멍청이   you’re a fool twit twit twit twit i do not like it nobody likes it가녀린 심청이   like simcheong twit twit twit twit i do not like it nobody likes it
this time, a pre-recorded guitar comes in, purposefully planned so that they could focus more on the high notes and executing the chorus well. repeating it, this time switched, he makes in effort to make it more explosive than the last time.
twit twit twit twit (twit) 우린 길을 잃었어 (woah)    we’ve lost our way twit twit twit twit (woah) 나 밖에 모르는 너는 멍청이     you’re a fool who only knows me
now was the time where they could show off their skills, seunghun singing the line soulfully as hyojin did the adlibs, hitting the high notes prettily. when it reaches his turn to do it, he does the same, helping to segue into one of the many highlights of the song.
(yeah)
너는 멍청이     you’re a fool
(woah, woah, woah, woah)
나 밖에 모르는      who only knows me 우리 멍청이     we’re a fool
they hit the high note together, holding it and harmonizing, reaching the end of the song. they echo each other during one last ad lib, and hyojin finishes off the song suavely, the both of them singing the last line and the song ending with a bang. as they end with charismatic poses, hyojin finds himself a little out of breath by the intensity of their performance, feeling everything come alive at his fingertips. 
as they bow one last time and leave the stage, hyojin hears seunghun jokingly ask him to treat him to pork if they moved on, and just ruffles his partner’s hair in response. 
“i’ll think about it.”
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Text
Hiraeth - 2
Chapter 2 - Our Our Friend, Death
Word Count: 5320 
Warnings: Minor gore, swearing
---
Etna, California, the interstate sign reads. Three hours we've been stuffed in this car. Three hours I've been itching to at least walk around... and I'm in desperate need to relieve my bladder. Chester's fingers drum against the leather of the steering wheel, he must be ready to stop for the day too. There's a certain... drowsiness you get after being in the car for so long, your body just begs to lie down after being stuck and crammed in this small car for so long.
"Do you think Etna'll be a nice city or a trashy one?" Chester asks me suddenly, my brain is half asleep and barely registers the question. All I can do is shrug and make the 'I dunno' sound.
"I just hope they have a motel we can stay at."
"Every place has a motel, Brad," He side eyes me from his seat, "We've stayed in abandoned ones before, too, remember?"
"I know," I look down at my feet, "Just forget I said anything."
His eyes glance over me, I can feel their stare. My cheeks burn from exhaustion and how humiliating it is to run away from ourselves like this. Our car stays to the right, merging off the interstate and on to a local highway. Nothing but farmland for miles to see, we're still a ways away from Etna, another good twenty-minute drive, maybe. Corn stalks dart along the highway, they're close to being ready for harvest. Either that or they're already prepping for a Halloween corn maze this year. Maybe it's the latter.
"I wish we had some red beans right now," Chester breaks the silence of the drive, "It is Monday, after all."
It's a tradition for him to eat red beans with a hunk of cornbread thrown in the middle every Monday. He said it was what everyone did down in Louisiana, you'd let the beans soak up some spices while you did laundry. Monday was laundry day too, he told me before. The beans would be nice and soft by the time the chores of the day would be done. I don't understand it, I'm not a Cajun man, but I know better than to break him of his culture.
"I doubt they'll have any," I respond, "Maybe... Maybe we should... go down South after we finish off Washington."
"Maybe," He flattens his lips together, "It's... it's different down there."
I don't ask what he means, he doesn't speak too much of his home. He always says something cryptic about it, said the swamp would swallow you whole if you get lost or how the people who live nearest the river were cursed, practicing voodoo to hex the nearby children. Weird, if our lives weren't so crazy ourselves, I would tell him he was being a fool for believing such fairytales.
Slowly, as we drive, more and more buildings begin to pop up. First, there are just a couple of farmhouses, then a service station, then comes to more residential areas. Next thing you know, we're here in Etna. There's not much to say for it, not the city. But the views are amazing, a mountain looms in the distance, visible from every section of the city. I can't take my eye off the white peak of the mountain and how the clouds mimic the shape of the snow that coats parts of the mountain. The rocks are dark, angry looking against the snow. Below the mountain peak is a dense forest, the trees stand tall and dark against the pristine colored snow. I'm lost in the feeling of homeyness that the surroundings give me, I don't even realize the vehicle had come to a stop until Chester opened up his car door.
"You're a weird one, Brad," He half-snorts while looking back at me. He bends down to look at me, still sitting dumbfounded in my car seat.
He doesn't understand the sense of nostalgia I get from being so close to nature. He was born in the deep south. No, not the type of South you're thinking, not the hill-billy tractor lovers, but the God-fearing people of the bayou; the real southerners. He grew up in the outskirts of New Orleans, his small city was entrenched by the swamp. The only trees he knew were the magnolias or the moss-covered cypresses whose roots were engulfed by the muddy waters of the bayou. His vision of nature will always be that of the swampy, musky bayou of his home, not the leaf daubed hearth of the northern forests.
"As weird as they come," I reply back tonelessly. I follow my boyfriend's footsteps and exit the vehicle, slamming the car door shut. Chester winces as I use a bit too much force in doing so, he reminds me suddenly of how much he loves this car.
A local walks by the hood of our car dressed dapperly in a suit and tie. The jacket of his suit reflects a cool, pastel blue, it mimics the color of the afternoon sky. He wears a fedora the color of a cloud, he lifts his hand to tip the front of his cap.
"Yer new around here?" He asks. I realize now that Etna must be a small city. I glance over at the streets, most people wave to one another as they walk down the sidewalk. Close knitted communities are the worst for me. You're an easy target in them. Everyone knows each other and we're the outsiders, if something bad happens, all fingers will be pointed at us.
"We just came in from Redding," Chester smiles warmly at the man, "We were hoping there was a place to stay—"
"Oh, no worries! No worries!" The man has a booming voice, a peal of half-hearted laughter follows his words, "There's 'n old inn down the road, two little ladies run it. Nef and Frankie. They'd be happy t' help sum folks like y'all."
I'm a little confused on why we're in Northern California and this guy speaks like he's from Texas. Maybe he's new in town too, maybe we're not that much of an outsider here.
"Oh," Chester's smile grows flaccid, he nods with the man's words. His outward personality is... disturbing for me. Extroverted people are too... too nosey, love to talk when all I want to do is leave, "Well, I guess we'll be headed that wa—"
"Before y'all leave," The holds his hands up to stop us from going back to the car, "I'd like t' welcome you officially to Etna. Hope ye two stay fer long."
Maybe he's the mayor, that's why he's greeting us as we entered the city.
"Thanks," I speak up, half-assedly. He catches wind of my reclusiveness and quirks a brow. Chester shoots me a glare for sounding so rude towards him, but nonetheless, we buckle back up in our car.
Chester breathes a sigh as we back out of a parking space and head towards the aforementioned hotel— motel, whatever the fuck that guy was saying. I'm already getting a weird vibe from this place, I have half the mind to tell Chester to drive off and we can find a bigger city to hide out in. We're too easy to... spot... Newcomers in this old town that has seen many generations come and go.
We pull into the parking lot of the building named 'Two Sister's Lodge', the sign is worn and faded of color, but the rest of the building seems to be pretty good, aesthetic wise. I'd consider it on the nicer side of hotels we have stayed at so far. Chester wraps his hand around mine, rubbing his thumb over the top of my hand. I look up at him, he's smiling innocently like he always does. I return the gesture and my cheeks dimple at him. We walk hand and hand to the entrance of the hotel and to the front desk. Sure enough, as the sign indicates, two sisters sit at the front desk greeted us with bright friendly smiles.
"Welcome to the Two Sisters Lodge," The lady nearest the desk speaks first. Her hair is dark, her skin is sunkissed and browned, but she wears the color well, "Would you like a room?"
Her name tag reads 'Nef,' her smile is soft and small, yet genuine at heart. She has an... herby smell to her. Pitching together her half-squinted eyes and the bubbly appearance of her attitude, I piece together that she's probably a pot smoker. Even if she were, I wouldn't care, she could be worse. One of our motel managers in a previous city ran a crack den in the back.
"How much do you charge?" Chester asks, not like it matters. Our credit cards get ditched every month, we leave and make new identities before anyone can catch up to us.
"Twenty bucks a night," The other lady says, she seems more... unwelcoming than the other lady. Her skin is pale, pale as the snow that sits atop the mountain, dark circles cover her eyes, "Maid comes in every day to clean the sheets, pick up dirty towels. We've got laundry in house, too."
She wears her hair in a loose, sloppy braid, it rests on her back and follows down her spine. She reminds me of how Chester used to be when I first met him. Unwelcoming on the outside but an actual cutie on the inside. Maybe she just needs someone to help crack her. I assume she must be Frankie, she doesn't wear a name tag, but her outfit fits the color scheme of the hotel and Nef's, so it's obvious she works here too.
"Oh," Chester mumbles, his gaze finds mine. We speak nonverbally, I nod ever slightly, "We'll take a room, then."
"Great," The first sister speaks, "We've got two Queen's beds or two twins--"
"We're sharing a bed," I speak up, her eyes widen at my response and she's left speechless for the moment. I curse myself for saying that, maybe this city is fucking homophobic like some we've stayed in. My worries are put to rest as she offers a kind smile, she writes down something on the nearby ledger before speaking to us again.
"No biggie," She ways it off, "We've got a Queen room, you can see the mountain from the window. Beautiful view."
"Yeah, that'll work," Chester purses his lips as he thumbs around in his pocket for that worn down leather wallet. He flips it open once it is in his hand and pulls out the red credit card. The card holder's name is some guy we made up, 'Chesney Bealleux', it matches our fake IDs for the month. He slides the plastic card across the desk towards Nef, she hands the card to Frankie over her shoulder. Frankie rings up a number on the cash register, dust settles across the keys and fly into the air as she presses the buttons. She hands Nef the credit card and then she slides it back to us, along with a key card.
"Your room is on the second floor, sweeties," Nef smiles, "Stairs are just down that hall. And You just call if you need anything, alright?"
"Wait—" Frankie calls out before Chester and I can walk over to the stairs, "I just wanted to let you know, there's a corn fest going on tonight. It's free and they got free food. You two look like you could benefit from it."
"Do we look that bad?" I tease her, a rose blush quickly fills out her cheeks at my remark. I feel bad, she looks unsettled by my joke, "I'm kidding, what time does it start?"
"It's no big deal," Her words are spoken lowly now, "It starts at six, ends a little before sunset. Somebody said they're having an afterparty when the sun sets though, lots of beer. Plus, uh, y'all been in a car for lord knows how long, it might help you unwind."
"We'll see," Chester intrudes, "We've had a long day, might wanna just sit and relax for tonight."
"Oh, well," She shrugs harshly, "Nef and I will be there, we'd hope to see you goons there."
"You don't even know our names," I speak barely audibly, but she picks up on the words.
"Well," She rolls her eyes, "Let's introduce ourselves— I'm Frankie, that's Nef."
"I'm Brad," I motion towards myself before pointing a finger to my lover, "That's Chaz."
"Nice to meet you." Chester waves with his child-like innocence.
They're... more hospitable than most people we've met in our travels. A welcomed change, for sure. Part of me screams to be elusive like always, but I lock that part away and give in to my human need to socialize.
"So," Nef joins the conversation once again, "Where you two from?"
"Los Angeles." Chaz answers.
That was the truth, it was in Los Angeles that this began. It was Los Angeles where we forged our love. It was Los Angeles that I was attacked by that creature and lay victim to its curse. It was a good home while it lasted, the city suckled and nursed my childhood. It adopted Chester many years ago too. At times I wonder if it will ever welcome us back.
"What're city folk like you two doing in a small town like this?" Frankie knits her brow at Chester's response.
"Got tired of the city life," I answer for Chester, "We don't like to be confined."
She mouths an 'oh' before giving a gentle nod of her head. Her lips tug upwards as another gentle smile warps her lips.
"Seems reasonable," She half-chuckles, "City life just isn't for everybody. That's why I like Etna, it's very calm and quiet. Nothin' bad ever happens here."
"Ever?" I quirk a brow. More guilt creeps in, I remember now that the full moon rises tonight, something wicked might happen tonight.
"Think the only fucked up thing that's happened here was a kidnappin' back in '82, but it all turned out fine."
"Oh," I murmur, "That's... not good—"
"Mmm," She shrugs, "It happens, I guess. But we're a quiet town. I hope y'all stay long."
I frown quietly, I know we will probably have to leave again tomorrow. That's just our fate now, every month is the same. Sometimes we have to leave more, barely staying a week in a city before people catch the drift of us.
"Yep," Chester pops the p, "Well it's starting to get a little late— I think Brad 'n' I are gonna head up to our rooms now if that's alright—"
"Of course, sure," She nods, "Y'all just call us if you need something."
We wave goodbye before we turn towards the hallways. Chester intertwines our fingers as we walk together, he squeezes my palm lightly like he's afraid to lose me. I look over at him with a loving gaze, he makes me forget the worries of the day.
The stairwell is eerie, dimly lit and the stairs creak as you walk up to them. Creepy, reminds me of some stupid 80's horror movie Chester would make me watch every month. He would always bicker at me to just sit and enjoy the movie, but they're always the same.
Chester looks over at me, a shit-eating grin pinned on his lips. He squeezes my hand again, forcing me to look up at him.
"You still owe me a fancy dinner, Brad." He chokes up.
"Whatever," I roll my eyes playfully, "Don't think they'll have any special restaurants here unless you consider Waffle House fancy."
"Waffle House is good, Brad, you wouldn't understand," He adds with a shake of his head, "That was fine dining when I was a kid—"
"That's 'cause all you guys had was a Waffle House—"
"Mmmm, yeah but— It was still very good."
I playfully shove him with my elbow as we reach the top of the stairwell. He opens the door that leads towards the rooms, he extends his arms to tell me to walk in first. The hallway is just as dim as the stairwell, reminds me again of those shitty horror movies. I grab on to Chester's hand again before we continue down the hall. After a moment or two of stumbling around, we finally come to our hotel room. Chester puts the key in the lock, the lock is a bit rusted and it takes a couple of jams to get it open.
Our room is... cleaner than expected. No dust, no bugs. Hell, not even a fucking cobweb. Chester sets our holdall down in the corner, his footsteps sound the empty room. Paper thin walls, fucking great. You can ever every little bump we make, every step and the slightest cough. Chester turns suddenly, facing me.
"Is this okay?" Concern fills his words, his skin pale of color. His eyes are gloss, red lines fill the white area of his eyes, showing the numberless sleepless nights. Tonight is going to be another sleepless night for him.
"This'll do," I force a smile but Chester knows me better, he can see right through me. His features drop and a feeling of guilt washes over, "Chester, it'll do. Don't worry."
"I always worry—"
"I know you do," I huff, blinking my eyes hard in response. I run into his arms, letting his worry wash away as I wrap him in my loving arms, "It's okay."
"What're we gonna do tonight?" He whispers into my ear, I feel his lip tremble against my earlobe. The full moon rises tonight, only a few hours of being human remains for me today.
"We do what we always do," I speak, "Lock yourself in the bathroom and... let me... let me change."
He sighs, though the energy he conveys is one of relief, not fear. We've done this long enough, he worries not about the other people, but instead, he worries about me. He worries I'll end up dead in a ditch, some hunter might come out and spray me with buckshot. He's even made theories of vampires eating me alive. Do vampires even exist?
"Okay," He breathes heavily again, "Okay... Just... Try and be safe tonight, yeah?"
I nod, though we both know I have no control over that outcome. He pulls away from my hold, I watch as he shrinks in his clothes.
"Let's just... Maybe we should— nap or something."
I pose the thought, Chester immediately shoots it down with a forcibly shake of his head. Too much anxiety and adrenaline drums in his blood, it would be hard for him to relax until tomorrow morning when he can wake me up from unconsciousness.
"I don't think I'll sleep," His head falls limp against his shoulders, "You should, though."
"I won't sleep unless you do, babe," I watch as his lips pull into a sneaky smile, he loves when I call him 'babe', "We could just—"
"We could cuddle."
"Oh?" He suddenly takes my hand and forcibly drags me to the bed, "I mean— I don't have anywhere to be... so—"
He doesn't really wait for me to give my verbal consent, he knows I always love to have sweet moments with him. I feel giddy, my heart throbs in my chest.
He gently pushes me down against the comforter. His body shifts on top of mine before he rolls over to the opposite side of the bed. He scoots close to me, our noses touch together, we Eskimo kiss. I bring my hand up and touch his thin cheek, I lean forward and let my lips grace against his. He pushes his lips out so they touch mine, our noses bump into each other. I curse our big noses.
"I love you, Chaz," I murmur into his lips, "More than anything."
"I love you too, Brad," Another kiss follows those words, "I wish we didn't have to live like this. Wish we could just be happy."
I smile though he pegs out the hints of guilt that hide behind my lips. He frowns suddenly, blaming himself for saying such a thing.
"I'm always happy when I'm with you," I touch our lips together once more, I linger near his mouth for a hint of a second, "As long as we're together, Chaz, then we're happy."
He beams towards me, his coffee-stained teeth shine in the dark hotel room. He gets even closer to me, our chests touch together, we can feel each other's heartbeats. They drum as one, finalizing just how much we love one another. I wrap my arms around his skinny figure, he feels brittle in my touch. His own arms stretch and his hands come to caress my cheek. His touch is holy, something that deserves worship. I am the saint in his temple, I cherish his every movement, every touch, every whisper that falls off his lips. All are like a heavenly dream. Perhaps he's the only thing that keeps me only a turn away from becoming a true monster.
He mouths the words 'I love you', a droopiness in his eyes tells me he's ready for a nap. Maybe our little affectionate moment gave him a moment of peace so he could slip into sleep. I reach forward and kiss his forehead and by the time I retract, his eyes are closed and his breathing slow.
"Love you, Chester."
A smile creeps on his lips as the words leave my tongue. A calm before the storm. He shows me his vulnerability, he trusts me with his life, he trusts me enough to see him at his weakest. It had been like this since the day we fell in love since he professed to me the feeling he had. I will never forget that day. I will never forget how our lips danced together that night.
The night approaches, an ache settles deep in my bones. The moon rises soon. I sit on the foot of the bed, my eyes watch over the sleeping figure of my lover. He sleeps in a fetal position, a shiver quivers through him from how cold it is. I hate having to wake him from his peaceful slumber, but I have no choice. He has to be somewhere safe. I lay back down on my spine, my body turns to face my lover. I bring my hand up and softly shake him, hoping he'd be easily awoken.
"Chester," I simper, "Chester, honey—"
He whines before rolling over in the bed, he takes a fist full of the comforter and pulls it over his head. He's like a child sometimes. I try and take the covers off him, but his grip on them is strong. With a sigh, I decide to take more drastic measures. I shake him with a little more force, chanting his name a number of times so he finally wakes.
"WHAT?" He cries out before immediately coming to his sense, "Oh—"
"It's almost time," I whisper. I watch as he rubs his weary eyes, a yawn leaps from his throat, "You've got to—"
"I know, I know," He smacks his lips together while stretching his arms out. He lets the appendage fall limp on top of the comforter, "Be safe."
I force a smile, my eyes turn glossy as the usual guilt from our situation hits me at full force. This is our life now. He chose to stay with me, a fucking freak. I suck on my teeth while I watch my boyfriend finally rise from the bed. He shambles over to my side of the bed, I rise from my spot and instinctively wrap my arms around him in a tight hug. I feel the pain that besets him, as I'm sure he can feel mine too. I let silent tears fall and coat his sleeping shirt. He pulls away from me, his hand caresses my cheek for only a second before he finally leaves to lock himself somewhere safe.
There was no use in trying to lock me up, I always escape. The last time we tried to secure me, it almost cost Chester his life. I broke down a door and trashed the whole room trying to claw at him. I couldn't fucking live with myself if I ever even laid a finger on him with the intention to harm him. So instead, Chester chooses to hide away so the beast won't sense him. It puts others at risk, but what else can we do?
And now, I sit alone in this dank hotel room, waiting for my body to take its unholy, primal form. Moonlight peaks through the paper-thin window shades, the pale light illuminates the room. My vision begins to fade as my mind starts to jumble and the unthinkable pain warps me.
~ ✦ ~
The forest knows death. From the dead leaves that paint the forest ground a musky, rotten brown, all the way to the carrion of freshly killed venison, not even stopping at the bare-boned carcass of a now unidentifiable animal. It never ends, the cycle of death, it continues and continues until we all are left as dust in the wind. Death perfumes the woods, the most primal scent in all of nature. The one thing that is certain in life, it is death.
Two bodies lay against the rotting leaves of the barren earth. Slash marks cover their bloodied bodies, throats torn and innards thrown askew. They weren't unfortunate victims to a starving wolf or bear. No, their meat remains untouched, uneaten. Killed for fun, killed for the thrill. A characteristic common within human nature, the need to feel superior and to give in to your dark urges. However, these markings are inhuman. No mortal man possesses the claws to tear this flesh, nor the strength to break these bones. No, these women were the victims of a supernatural creature, one that hunts when the full pale moon rises.
A tragedy, some would say, but this is just a normal part of life that the forest knows. The forest accepts death, it feeds generations of life. These women, though they lay dying and decaying, are ensuring the survival of many other creatures that call these woods their home. A crow drops down from a barren tree branch and perches down beside the carrion of the corpse. It takes a piece of flesh and eats, absorbing the energy that lays ready to be taken advantage of. The crow flies off suddenly, taking with it another pinch of carrion.
The moonlight has faded, the sky warms as the sun begins to tease along the skyline. Farmers are the first awake, they must tend their crops and slit the ground before another patch of rain comes through. The noise of farm machinery stirs some of the townsfolk who live on the outskirts of town, they are unhappily awoken. The day starts, as usual, children ready for school, parents prepare themselves for work. They are oblivious to the sin committed in the woods. That is until a duo of school children find one of the lady's bloodied jacket thrown far from the body. A metal name tag glistens in the sunlight, a blemish of a bloodstain rims the outer edge.
My lover, Chester, stirs me from my sleep. He gentles shakes my body until I wake, his eyes are glossy and filled with sympathy. No, no, I couldn't have done anything last night, but his eyes tell the whole story. I open my lips to say something, but no words fall out. I just sit there, staring up at my lover with a speechless expression.
"We have to leave," He drips the words into my ears, "I'm sorry."
"It happened again?" A rhetorical question, I know it will only keep happening until the day I die. Chester responds with a soft nod. He tries so desperately to mask his sorrow, he even forces the fakest smile I've ever seen him wear. Maybe he feels guilty for having to wake me up with this news, or he hates having to move so soon again.
"You should shower," He doesn't verbally respond to my question, only tries to change the subject, "You smell like a hound."
I ignore his little comment, only responding by raking him a glare. I stand from my spot on the hardwood floor, my bare body is covered in scar tissue. I wear the scars well, Chester has told me, but I hate every single one of them. I dig at myself during my time as a beast, these marks were from its-- my-- claws. I run my tongue across my teeth, the faint tang of the metallic liquid stings my tongue. I want to believe it is my own blood, but I know better.
I head for the shower, the metal from the showerhead is rusted and the whole bathroom smells like ammonia. I turn the nozzle to get some hot water, but it only gets as hot as lukewarm tap water. I step in, the water turns a pinkish hue as the blood that cascades my body joins with the water from the shower. Chester usually joins me in the shower, but I never let him in when the water runs red like a river of rubies. The water quickly turns cold, thankfully it gave me just enough time to wash the blood off my pale scarred skin. Chester waits outside the bathroom door, he jumps into my arms as I walk out.
"I'm sorry," He sniffles, "I know you hate leaving--"
"Don't be sorry," I move my hands up so I can hold his head, "The fault is mine."
He bottles up a whimper, but he quiets down. He grabs our holdall and we exit the hotel room. We travel down those same eerie steps, into the lobby-- only to find it completely empty. Chester looks over at me with that same look from this morning. It hits, it had to have been them. My lips tremble but I bite down on them to keep him from noticing their emotion. Chester stops walking, his arms wrap around my bone-thin body. He starts up with the mantra of words like 'it wasn't your fault,' 'I'm sorry,' and other white lies that'll keep me from tearing down myself for killing another innocent person.
"Let's just go," I huff. He releases my body and we continue to hurry down to the car before anyone suspects any foul play from us, "I'm ready to leave California."
Chester doesn't say anything as we reach the parking lot and enter our Camaro. A darkness hangs over him, he gets like this every time I kill. I wonder why he puts up with this, I wonder if he's just ready to end it all. He could be free from this right now if he wanted to, he could have me killed or he could just leave me stranded here. Either way, he'd never have to deal with this bullshit ever again. Yet, he loves me too much to leave.
Here we are again, the familiar interstate 5. She knows us well, we traveled her up and down for months now, it seems like every day we get closer and closer to meeting her end. The roads are empty, except for a few late stragglers on the work trail. We speed far away from Etna, it has become another city to feel our curse.
"Where to next?" I ask Chester.
"Ashland," He replies in a toneless way, "It's not too far."
We've traveled up and down California and finally, we have desecrated its entirety. Our next state is Oregon. I want to believe that this could be our last stop, that we won't have to keep running, but both Chester and I know that'll never happen because we can't escape ourselves that easily.
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reekierevelator · 5 years
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On the Eve of the Wedding
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Finishing up at work on Friday nights was never easy.  There was always one last thing to do.  And then another last thing.  And another. It was never easy ensuring all the vans had returned from making deliveries and all next week’s orders were fully processed and ready to be loaded first thing Monday morning. And presentation was important. If the vans came back filthy a quick hose down was necessary.
Being loading bay supervisor was a reasonable job but I was hoping to make transport manager before I hit thirty.  After that I figured it might be time to settle down. But that Friday all I was thinking was at least it was the end of the week. So, at last, time for a pint at the local, the works’ crowd gathering in the Sheared Sheep, just to be sociable and wind down, reducing the week’s stresses and strains to old war stories, something to make each other laugh about.  
And Friday nights I liked a drink. Didn’t take the old jalopy in on Fridays. So later I’d generally pick up fish and chips or a pizza, or end up in an Indian restaurant with some of the gang.  If I got the early bus back to my little bachelor pad on the outskirts of town I’d maybe get something delivered. But this Friday night was different.
It was Rebecca Ralston, the red head from the marketing department. I seemed to have been bumping into her for the last few weeks. The main offices were at the opposite end of the site to the loading bay but somehow she’d felt the need to come over several times, wanting to talk to me about planning new adverts for the vans, different colour schemes, scheduling printing, application to the vehicles and so on. And this even though the current advertising contract still had almost a year to run.
Not that I minded. She was a bubbly sort of girl, an effervescent personality. Irregular teeth like pushed over tombstones but still easy on the eye. She brought a little brightness into the windowless little office in the dark cavern of the loading bay. She liked to talk with a hand on my arm or my shoulder, making sure she had my attention. And that day she hinted that after work on Fridays it wasn’t unusual for her to find her way to the Sheared Sheep. As it happened it suited her, she said, living close enough to just walk home if she happened to stay late.
Unfortunately, it was nearly eight when I finally got everything wrapped up and made that watering hole. The pub was already in that in-between phase where most of the early evening ‘couple of pints after work’ crowd had already been, drunk their quota, and gone off to catch buses and trains, while only one or two of the genuine locals had as yet made an appearance.  
But Rebecca was there, sitting on the edge of one of those leather sofas they’d refurbished the place with, the typical modern décor reflecting the changing functionality; more coffee shop or restaurant these days than the traditional beer-swillers’ second home.
The sofa was angled towards the door and as I entered she looked up at me under her curls and neatly shaped eyebrows and I could see she already had a glow on. She smiled that girlish crooked teeth smile and raised her hand in a nominal gesture of welcome. The black jacket of her office trouser suit was slung over the arm of the sofa. Her pretty powder blue blouse and black trousers looking fetching.
Two of the new young recruits to Accounts sat beside her. They noticed me as they followed Rebecca’s gaze.  She introduced them as Jerome and Melissa but as I joined them they both rose to leave, even refusing my offer of a round, insisting instead that they had other obligations and had to rush home. But they would be sure to see me around the office – sometime. People from the main office don’t mix much with the van loading fraternity.
Rebecca held out an empty glass saying she wouldn’t mind another double vodka tonic with lemon and ice, and when I returned from the bar the pub was even emptier.  Rebecca made a show of looking around all points of the compass, her short red curls bouncing, before she declared the Sheared Sheep mutton.
‘It’s really dead here, isn’t it?
I nodded and took another swallow before concluding the guest real ale, Crafty Brown Cow IPA was something less than acceptable. It seemed fermented from liquidised mince.
‘There’s another place up off the main road that’s livelier,’ Rebecca was saying, and I’d hardly had time to sit down before she’d grabbed my hand and we were on the move.  
The Hardened Artery wasn’t my usual kind of place but it was certainly busy. A three piece guitar band was playing 50s rock n roll on a tiny stage and there were even young trendy types trying to dance.  I rooted around and managed to scrounge a couple of stools and we proceeded to shout at each other, exchanging inane pleasantries over a medley of Johnny B Good and Hey Bo Diddley.
‘I like your shirt,’ she shouted, making me glance down at my red and blue striped button-down Ben Sherman.
‘I like your blouse Rebecca,’ I shouted back.
‘Call me Becky,’ she insisted.
‘Ok,’ I said, ‘call me Steve.’
 The band were roaring into Promised Land as Becky drew her stool much closer to mine saying she couldn’t hear, and I picked up floral notes from her eau de cologne as she pressed her legs up against mine. She waved her hand around ostentatiously like a fan in front of her face and undid the top buttons of her blouse as she complained about the heat. I felt myself definitely getting very warm too. I might not be quite God’s gift but I was sure I was picking up signals and the sap was rising. I wasn’t wearing a tie I could loosen but I took off my jacket and instead undid a few buttons of my shirt revealing the pecs and heading to the six pack.
Another few drinks in that sweaty room and the long working week was catching up with me. I was dreading the long cold bus journey home and found myself glancing down at Rebecca’s newly revealed cleavage with a certain amount of wishful thinking.
‘After a final couple of brandies we fell out into the cold dark street and, saying how late it was, Becky suggested, as even in my increasingly inebriated state I somehow thought she might, that I spend the night at her place and leave off travelling home until the morning.
After a twenty minute walk, or rather stagger, including various impromptu stops for clinches and kisses, her place turned out to be a bedsit in a big old converted house, part of a street of big old converted houses.  The furnishings were Spartan. A lack of chairs meant I had to sit on the bed while she retrieved a couple of bottles of beer from an otherwise suspiciously empty cupboard.  After she’d applied the bottle-opener and handed me mine she plonked herself down across my knees, draping her arm around my neck.  I only had time for one more sip of beer before her lips locked on mine and we toppled backwards on to the bed.
She was wildly enthusiastic and I wasn’t complaining, but that degree of gay abandon did engender a certain sort of ‘last time before the end of the world’ feeling. It was a long time before I was allowed to sleep.
Afterwards, in the morning, I commented that of the various women I’d known she was unusual in not living amid a clutter of clothes, shoes, accessories, and a jumble of make-up jars and bottles.
She said ‘Well, to be honest, that is usually me too, but I’ve already moved almost all of my stuff to Denis’s place.’
‘Denis?’ I queried cautiously.
‘My fiancé.  I’m moving in to his place after the wedding.’
For a moment I thought, hoped, I’d misheard. But Becky rambled on, unselfconscious and unconcerned. ‘The wedding’s at three o’clock tomorrow. Well, three o’clock today now, of course,’ she said peering at her little bedside alarm clock and giggling. ‘The dress – floor length, dazzling white and lacy - is laid out at my Mum’s, along with all the other stuff.  The cake’s a beauty – three tiers. I’ve got to get to HairWays at eleven. Full hairdo and manicure treatment. I’m going for cherry red nail-varnish to match my lipstick. The make-up will take forever. Sorry, it’s a bit late to send you an invite. But there are still one or two things no-one’s chosen yet on our gift list – I mean, only if you really wanted to…’
‘You’re… you’re… getting married - today?’ I managed to stammer.
She stretched her arm under the bed and brought forth a little box. ‘Yes, I am,’ she said, opening the little box and putting the ring on her finger. She held her arm up in the air to watch the diamond sparkle.
‘And Denis?’
‘Oh, he plays rugby, professional now. And he’s been working nights as a doorman, mainly the Jacaranda Club, - to help pay for the wedding.’
‘Ah... he sounds like a great guy.’
‘Yes, but I’m not married to him yet, am I Steve?  And you’ve got lovely blue eyes and you’re really quite firm and muscular too – it must be helping to load all those heavy boxes. You know the girls up at the office have been talking about you for a while. We like to see your hose on the forecourt. I thought, well, I might as well make use of my last legitimate opportunity. At least that’s what they all told me when we were out on my hen night last week.’
‘Oh really?’ was all I could find to say.
Maybe I looked a little disappointed or pensive because she peered into my apparently lovely blue eyes and bit her lip with her unusual teeth. ‘Oh dear, I hope I haven’t offended you.’ she said. ‘Steve, you don’t feel I’ve just been using you, do you?’ She burst into a big smile. ‘I mean, it was good fun, wasn’t it?’
‘Well, yes,’ I had to admit. ‘Really, it was great.  And no, I suppose… I mean, I was as keen as you were… It’s just…’
‘Oh, well that’s all right then, isn’t it?’  Her eyes shone brightly. ‘And it’s only nine o’clock. I won’t be Mrs Denis McGlone for another six hours. We’ve still got at least another hour before I have to be going.’
And as she fell into my arms I tried hard to clear all the frightening images of giant prop forwards and burly bouncers from my mind.    
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