#half-life fanfiction

[psilocybinlemon]

DARK ENERGY - CH2, MANIFEST

Modern Post-Apocalyptic AU, based in the universe of Half-Life series. Rated Explicit for death, blood and gore, terrible politics, war, that kind of stuff you see in First-Person Shooter games.

Pairing: Eventual Nalu

Chapters in Tumblr: 1, 2 Also in AO3 __________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 2: MANIFEST

// December 5th, Tuesday, 5:35 PM. Black Mesa East

“You were being watched?”

Natsu nodded as he took a cigarette from the blood-stained pack, placed it between his teeth and ignited it. He left the lighter and the carton on the table, then lifted his gaze to the old man sitting in front of him. Disapproval was clear as the day in Makarov’s eyes, yet the leader of the base made no effort to make Natsu stop smoking in his office. Not today, at least.

“Yeah,” Natsu mumbled, then lowered his eyes back to his hands. The dried blood, that wasn’t his, had begun to flake off and fall to the black-and-white checkered floor. “But there wasn’t anyone. It just felt so off.”

“Strange. Our visitor reported having the same experience this morning,” Makarov said and wrote a few lines into his notebook. “What was the clock at that moment?”

“I don’t know. Quarter past eight?” Natsu said, remaining quiet for a second. “What visitor?”

“We have a visitor from the White Forest,” Makarov answered, then glanced at Erza, who then stepped from the back of the office closer to the table. She had slightly opened the window to let the smoke escape the room. “We didn’t want to tell this to you… yet, but well, you’ll be introduced soon enough. Anyway, seemingly at the same time today, before arriving at Black Mesa East, our visitor reported feeling as if they were being watched. An interesting occurrence, indeed.”

Natsu shrugged. “I’m not sure if I’m supposed to like this information or not.”

“The events could be connected somehow,” Erza said. “Something is stirring the Combine up, and we have to find out what it is.”

“I meant the visitor,” Natsu clarified, then glanced down at his bloodied outfit, blowing out some smoke. He had never been to White Forest himself, but it was Resistance’s most secret base dedicated to scientific research, mostly trying to restore technology from old Black Mesa. Fancy folk, those scientists. “I’m probably not in a proper condition to meet some visitors from White Forest. Can I at least change –“

“No. Immediately as you’re done with the report, we’ll invite this person to the office,” Erza said, making Natsu roll his eyes in frustration. “There’s no time to waste. This is very important business, Sergeant Dragneel.”

“Yeah, seems like it,” Natsu scoffed. It’s going fucking great, he thought and inhaled the cigarette. “Anyway, so, after I felt like some creepy-ass-fucker had its eyes on me, everything went as usual for a while. Or so I thought…”

And then he fell quiet, sharp pain in his chest suffocating his voice.

“Natsu?”

“… until we made it to Station 12.” __________________________________________________________

// December 5th, 2017. Tuesday, 8:16 AM. City 17 //

“… Do our benefactors really know what's best for us? What gives them the right to make this kind of decision for mankind? Will they ever deactivate the suppression field and let us breed again?”

Side by side, Natsu and Gray walked across the city plaza. A small group of citizens flinched as they saw them approach, turning their gazes back to the screen, mounted high on a mast in the square’s centre. There spoke an older man, with short white hair and a trimmed beard. Seeing his face aroused an impulse in Natsu to point his gun at the screen and shoot it to smithereens. It was dr. Wallace Breen, Earth’s Administrator under the Combine, formerly known as the leader of Black Mesa Research Facility. These things, Breencasts, were the only entertainment delivered to the citizens of each Combine-controlled city.

But well, if Natsu had to choose between listening to Overwatch Voice or Breencast, he’d choose the latter – in Black Mesa East, they did some funny remixes out of them. But the Voice was still lingering in his mind, the haunting echo of doom he had barely managed to escape from. Though the events of this morning aroused hundreds of questions and the strange feeling in his guts refused to fade, he forced them to the shadows for now. They were alive. They had an objective to focus on.

Now, they had to find Cana and Loke.

“… Allow me to address the anxieties underlying your concerns, rather than try to answer every possible question you might have left unvoiced,” spoke Earth’s Administrator on the record. “First, let us consider the fact that for the first time ever, as a species, immortality is in our reach. This simple fact has far-reaching implications. It requires radical rethinking and revision of our genetic imperatives. It also requires planning and forethought that run in direct opposition to our neural pre-sets.”

In silence, Natsu and Gray left the plaza and headed to the alley between the buildings, arriving at a scene where an old playground stood. It had once been a park for the block’s children to play in, but only echoes lingered here now. The swings swayed in the faint wind, old metal creaking with the motion. A graffiti had been spray-painted on the rusty carousel. ‘CASTE’, it read, with a Combine soldier holding a blue-eyed human child in his arms. Its stare seemed to pierce right through Natsu. ‘Fucking shit, I’ve had enough creepy things staring at me this morning.’

“…I find it helpful at times like these to remind myself that our true enemy is Instinct. Instinct was our mother when we were an infant species. Instinct coddled us and kept us safe in those hardscrabble years when we hardened our sticks and cooked our first meals above a meagre fire and startled at the shadows that leapt upon the cavern's walls. But inseparable from Instinct is its dark twin, Superstition. Instinct is inextricably bound to unreasoning impulses, and today we clearly see its true nature.”

Natsu had heard the same speech too many times. It was one of those that was replayed the most, as if to keep reminding everyone that the suppression field hadn’t gone anywhere. Since the Combine took over Earth, no new human had been born. The Combine, or rather Dr. Breen himself, never explained how the field actually worked, but Natsu’s brother had presumed it prohibited certain protein chains important to the process of embryonic development – a part of the Combine plan for total omnicide of the human species.

Yet, since it had been affecting the population for seventeen years now, Natsu didn’t think about it too often. Strangely, he couldn’t fully remember what children even looked like. He had been just five back then, and all the children had grown into adulthood alongside him. Only a few pictures had been spared from the time before the apocalypse. His brother had a photo of their family framed in his laboratory, one Natsu used to glance at just enough times to not forget how his parents had looked like. He might’ve been one or two years old when the picture was taken, so perhaps it would also remind him what strange creatures these children were like.

Though, as they passed by the abandoned playground, a strange flash of sadness swept over his heart. It was always so haunting to remember he might never actually see a living child again. Unless the Combine would be driven off Earth, his generation would be the last one there’d ever be.

And in the speakers, the speech went ever on.

“…Instinct has just become aware of its irrelevance, and like a cornered beast, it will not go down without a bloody fight. Instinct would inflict a fatal injury on our species. Instinct creates its own oppressors, and bids us rise up against them. Instinct tells us that the unknown is a threat, rather than an opportunity. Instinct slyly and covertly compels us away from change and progress. Instinct, therefore, must be expunged. It must be fought tooth and nail, beginning with the basest of human urges: the urge to reproduce.”

“Come to think of it,” Gray spoke suddenly, as if he had been lost in thought for a long while, “that if the suppression field actually suppressed boners, half of the population would be very encouraged to fight back the Combine.”

Natsu chuckled. “That’s fucking terrifying.”

“Like, it isn’t as bad as it is now. The field might’ve suppressed the urge to reproduce, but not the urge to fuck. And we actually benefit from it,” Gray said, and though Natsu couldn’t see his face behind the CP’s helmet, he knew Gray was grinning. “Yeah, sooner or later our race is gonna go extinct, but at least we can rail bareback without a worry until then.”

Cringing, Natsu slammed his palm on his goggles, dragging his fingers down the mask’s respirator. “Doesn’t it get a bit claustrophobic at the base when you’re railing at least three girls at the same time?”

“I don’t know. Does it? At least I can’t get all of them pregnant at the same time. That would be slightly awkward.”

“I adore your optimism, my friend, but I think you’re gonna end up with gonorrhea at that rate.”

Gray laughed, his voice still distorted by the helmet’s vocoder. “Rather that than a baby. Or worse, many babies,” he said and thought for a moment. “Maybe the vortigaunts would write some poetry about it. ‘Roses are red. Violets are blue. Went to the pizzeria, came back with gonorrhea…’”

Natsu tried not to laugh, but failed. This thing he adored about Gray: no matter how dark the circumstances were, he could always rip some humour out of it. While they spoke, they missed lines from the dragging speech. The last part started, only so that the record could play again right after it would finish.

“We should thank our benefactors for giving us respite from this overpowering force. They have thrown a switch and exorcised our demons in a single stroke. They have given us the strength we never could have summoned to overcome this compulsion. They have given us purpose. They have turned our eyes toward the stars.”

A moment’s silence fell upon those words. When the record began from the start, they were so far they could only hear it muffled in the distance. Natsu always chuckled at how wrong the Combine was. Thrown a switch and exorcised our demons in a single stroke? If they truly believed so, they knew absolutely nothing about human nature. At least Gray wasn’t given a crumb of that strength to overcome this compulsion – but of himself, Natsu wasn’t so sure.

Not anymore.

They arrived at the end of the alley between the buildings, reaching a path towards the canal below the streets. A small, orange λ, lambda badge, had been painted on the concrete wall to indicate the Resistance’s presence in this area. “Now that we’re talking about girls, you mentioned things with Lisanna are getting complicated,” Gray said quietly. “I thought you got along well, but isn’t it working?”

Natsu shrugged. “Never probably did, to be honest.” His shoulders tensed as he grew silent, hoping Gray would stop talking about this. But as the dark-haired man knit his brows in wonder, Natsu knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it anytime soon. “Damn man, I just don’t know. Maybe it used to. Maybe I used to like being with her, but it’s… starting to feel like I signed up for something I don’t want to be in.”

“Signed up?” Gray echoed. “So, she’s your girlfriend for real now and you didn’t tell me?”

“Nope. We aren’t in any relationship,” Natsu cut him off, struggling to find an explanation for a thing he hadn’t figured out either. Nervously he glanced around as they climbed down the narrow path between the abandoned buildings, leading towards the rails. “But, eh, she probably wishes we were. She’s liking me a lot. Too much, I guess.”

“And how’s that a bad thing? She’s a pretty lass. Strong as hell. She’s gonna be an amazing fighter when she’s through the training,” Gray said. “I think it’s gonna get less complicated when you’re not the one training her. Couples are never put on the same team, you know. Some time apart would –“

“Yeah, I know. But I’m just not feeling it. Think it’s better to end things before it becomes anything more serious, but shit, I don’t want to break her heart.”

“The same way Erza broke yours?”

“She didn’t, damn you,” Natsu cursed, lowering his voice as he swiftly changed the topic. “Besides, if I’d break Lisanna’s heart, her sister would kill me.” 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Gray chuckled. “Mirajane can be scary as fuck if you mess with her siblings.” Then he remained silent for a while, as if reminiscing the time he went into a bloody brawl with Elfman. “Damn, you’re fucked.”

“I know, right?” he groaned, crunching his brow. “If there would be a clean and easy way to just end this, it would be fucking great.”

“I’m afraid there isn’t. Even the world doesn’t end clean and easy, it keeps lingering for damn decades,” Gray said. “But anyway, I hope you’ll figure out whatever you have going on. Even if it doesn’t work with her, we’ve still gotta cling on to the human feelings we have left. We all might be sterile by now, but we’ll still love each other. The Combine can’t take that away from us.”

Natsu shrugged, giving his fellow soldier a slight grin. Somehow though, he had a feeling this thing with Lisanna wouldn’t linger as long as the world did after its dying blows. Sooner or later, this bright-eyed girl would notice what he had become – or if she had already noticed, she’d finally admit it: the toll this life would take on a man.

“I feel like it already has.”

As Gray looked at him in silence, Natsu realised what he had said. The words had slipped from his mouth without much thought. He turned his eyes to the path ahead – they were soon arriving at the railway yard, and they’d better remain quiet.

“Bro?” Gray whispered. “Is everything okay? Like, really okay?”

Natsu replied with a nod. “Yeah,” he said then, but knew Gray did not believe it. “Everything is just okay.”

If Gray said something, his voice got buried under the blast of a horn, a distinctive bellow to announce the departure of another razor train. They stepped from the shadowed alley into the light and waited behind the fence as the train sped by, fast out of the city, possibly heading into Nova Prospekt. Of course, everything is okay, Natsu thought, somehow sensing Gray felt the same. We are not the ones on that train. We are that lucky.

When the train had passed, they climbed over the fence and jumped down, quickly running over the steel rails into the other side of the yard. As the trains were fully automatized and loaded in the station further away, no Combine security was present in this area. Still, they hurried into the underground tunnel ahead and wasted no time threading through it. It led them to the other half of the railway yard, yet this time, they headed down the wastewater canal.

Here, the Route Kanal, the underground railroad into Black Mesa East, began.

This time of the year, the waters were low, making it easy to access safe paths. Things were different in the spring – in the worst years, all canals were flooded to the top, and no citizens could be saved this way, but that had been long ago. As the Combine kept tapping away Earth’s water resources, the drought that now reigned these canals was the Resistance’s advantage. One had to see the bright side in times like these, after all.

Down the ladders they went, jumping into a small path that framed the water below, which was now mostly toxic waste. Too many times had Gray threatened to throw Natsu into the murky waters, and equally often had Natsu promised to kill him if he did so. But this time, Gray was dead silent. Neither of them said a word until they made it to the large, red box car ahead of them. Natsu climbed onto its roof and knocked a few times on the hatch door.

“Dragneel and Fullbuster coming in,” he said, then pulled aside the metal shield, and dropped into the box. Gray followed, hanging on the edge with one hand as he closed the hatch after him. They took off their helmets, shoving their black scarves and Resistance emblazons. Here in the underground railroad, wearing full CP outfits meant getting shot without mercy. “Seen Cana and Loke pass by?”

In the cosy corner of the container, there stood a fair-haired man, clad in black Resistance armour. Lyon was his name, an old friend of Gray’s – yet those who weren’t on any good terms nowadays. In turns with few others, Lyon guarded this station and lived here for days at the time. A large map of the canal system covered the wall behind him. “Yeah, they passed here with a group of citizens a moment ago. They said they’d wait for you at Station 12,” Lyon told with a worried look on his face. “You ran into some trouble?”

“Civil Protection raided the block, but that was nothing we couldn’t handle. We sent Cana and Loke ahead of us here, as they probably told,” Gray answered, gazing at the vortigaunt standing next to Lyon. The creature was trying to fix the radio which had lost signal and paid them no attention. “You having problems as well?”

Lyon shrugged. “The radio is being a piece of shit as always. We lost connection to other stations about an hour ago, but Gary is trying to fix it.”

Natsu chuckled by himself. The vortigaunt’s name most likely wasn’t Gary, but most often their real vortigese names were too difficult for humans to pronounce. The sight of vortigaunts always made him shudder, even though they had been their allies for years now. Such wasn’t the case in the initial days when these hostile, electricity-shooting aliens had flooded the halls of Black Mesa. Now, as he watched the green-brown-skinned creature struggling with a broken radio with its three arms, he could sympathize them. The vortigaunts had once been slaves in Xen, lost and confused as they spawned on Earth during the Resonance Cascade.

Then, the vortigaunt turned its head, adorned by a large red eye, towards them. “There’s a disturbance in the vortessence. A deep mystery,” it spoke fluently, but with its bizarre accent. “No deeper than the void itself.”

Gray nodded, holding back a smile. “Seems like this day is full of these deep mysteries. Hope you’ll solve them somehow.”

The vortigaunt bowed and extended its middle arm towards them, clenching its long claws. “As do you. Please, accept this charge as a gift for the rest of your journey.”

Then, a jolt of energy floated from the vortigaunt’s hand, passed the air, and reached Natsu’s head. The tingling electricity sent shivers down his spine as the charge spread, first attaching to the metallic dots on his temple, then fully loading the electric parts of his Combine armour. Then the vortigaunt released another bolt, charging Gray’s BCI and suit as well. The man shuddered, making Natsu smile. Gray never seemed to get used to this.

As Natsu’s interface was again in full charge, he realised the disturbances with his feelings earlier today might’ve been a symptom of running on low power. His BCI had never run out of charge, for it drained energy from Combine’s outlets as well as receiving jolts of vortigaunt’s electricity. But sometimes, if he went too long without charging his system, it started running slow and laggy. Now, it felt like magic – all noise in his head went dead silent, like a raging sea had calmed into perfect still.

A few years back, Natsu had felt the same when the interface was first installed. As he had woken up from the anaesthesia in his brother’s laboratory, everything had been… different. For all his life there had been dozens of radio channels open in his brain at once, and then there was finally peace. If he hadn’t known the technology was counterfeited from the Combine, he would’ve fallen in love with it. But there was always this strange aftertaste in the flawlessness, some nagging sounds that always reminded him, you’re now the same as your enemies.  

“Thank you, Gary,” Natsu said to the vortigaunt. “We’ll be on our way. Please report to Station 12 and Black Mesa East when you get the radio to work, and if you discovered what caused the disturbance.”

Lyon nodded to him and slid open the door on the container’s side wall. The iron bars in the canal’s gate had been broken, allowing them to proceed into the closed underground sections by foot. “Good luck,” he said, and stepped out of the way. “Be careful out there.”

“Always. Stay safe,” Gray said nonchalantly as he followed Natsu out of the car box. When the door was closed behind them, Gray sighed heavily. “Damn, I can barely stand that fucker’s face for two seconds.”

Here, after the first checkpost, the road truly began. Despite its name, the underground railroad had no rails, no trains, only concrete paths that lead through the canals. Over the years, the Resistance had worked to build makeshift bridges out of rubble, planks and cement blocks, over the toxic waste below. Several tunnels and pentices protected them from plain sight – there was always a shelter to hide into if the Combine hunter-choppers flew over them.

After today’s ordeals in the city, it felt great to be finally safe.

“You were surprisingly kind this check-in,” Natsu chuckled, and attached the helmet to the strap on his back, taking off the machine gun in exchange. He let it rest in his arms as he took steps forward on the path of concrete, gazing into the underpass ceiling. If he’d see a barnacle, he’d shoot it – having one of those nasty things almost strangle Gray yesterday had been too much. “He’s still salty because you fucked his girlfriend like half a year ago?”

“Of course. He’s jealous of my dick,” Gray answered with a grin and reached for the cigarette he had tucked behind his ear earlier this morning. He extended his hand towards Natsu, a wordless signal for fire. Natsu rolled his eyes and tossed his lighter to him, realising he was also dying for a smoke. Swiftly, Gray ignited his cigarette and threw the lighter back to Natsu. “Well, if I were him, I’d be jealous too. My dick’s so big it can distort time and space.”

“Yeah, even black holes move towards your huge dick,” Natsu mocked with a suffocated laugh as he lit a cigarette of his own, inhaling the smoke as he put the pack and lighter back into his pockets. Through the grey clouds, the sun was beginning to shine, rays of light descending through the holes in the concrete ceiling. “Got something else to brag about on this beautiful morning?”

“I ain’t bragging, baby, it’s the truth,” Gray said and smirked. He kept the burning cigarette between his lips and took off the small radiophone from his belt. He extended the antenna and pressed the button, trying to get connected to Loke. Only static echoed from the speaker. “It’s fucking blank. Seems like my dick distorts radio connections too.”

Natsu wanted to chuckle, but this wasn’t funny anymore. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, gazing at the static in silence as a serious frown formed on his forehead. Gray turned the channel selection knobs, but no connection was found. “It’s weird,” he mumbled. “Let's not keep them waiting any longer.”

Gray kept pressing on and off the radio, as if making a beat on the static noise, grinning by himself. Natsu held back a frustrated sigh. As he knew, Gray always acted like this whenever he was nervous – not even the BCI had managed to rid that trait of him. Perhaps by a miracle, it hadn’t got him killed yet. A momentary melancholy swept past Natsu. He could remember being like this, too, long before technology changed him. 

Slowly, Natsu raised his gaze upwards, to the rays of light that bled through the cracks. And hidden by them, there was a barnacle attached to the ceiling, right above Gray – a xenian creature, no more than a large mouth full of sharp teeth. The alien’s long, sticky tongue was descending towards the man, hidden by the blinding light. For a moment Natsu felt tempted to let it snare Gray and teach him a lesson, but as the leader of his team, he had duties to keep.

Quickly, Natsu lifted his gun, aimed at the barnacle and opened fire. Gray flinched at the sudden noise and leapt backwards with a terrified shriek. With a few shots the alien was dead, and a powerful spew followed instantly. The barnacle turned inside out and disgorged the skulls, bones, and other remains of recently consumed victims – thank god the bones were too small to belong to a human – along with gallons of green bile. They splattered right next to Gray, and as the limp dead alien’s limp tongue retracted and hung in the air, he nearly gagged.

“Focus, you goddamn idiot,” Natsu mumbled and lowered his gun, then let it hang on his shoulder as he took the cigarette from his mouth. “Let’s go.”

Being safe was just an illusion, as they were both reminded. __________________________________________________________

On their way to Station 12, Gray kept frequently checking whether the radio had begun working, but it never did. It wasn’t completely unusual for the radios to fail, but now, an unyielding worry kept growing in their guts. Even Gray’s playfulness withered and his jokes went quiet, and the silence around them started to feel more and more like a trap. Keeping their guns close, they threaded through the familiar pathways, seeing no signs of the rest of the team. It was, most often, a good sign – corpses in the canal would be far worse than full absence.

They walked fast amongst the rubble. Over the years, lots of buildings had collapsed, even some trains from the rails above had fallen into the canal’s bottom. The Combine cared little about reconstructing whatever was broken – to them, the canal was only a part of the endless wasteland outside City 17, a landfill. But this crumbling debris, the box cars and concrete tunnels and corridors, were the lifeline for the Resistance. The chaos was their maze, a perfect shelter to sneak out of the city, right under Combine’s nose.

Nearing the station, Natsu noticed a few dead headcrabs on the mud puddle. Their yellow blood mixed with the water as their long limbs sprawled out. Natsu hated these creatures. This xenian race of omnivorous parasites had gotten its name from its unique way of choosing and controlling its victims. About the size of a pumpkin, the headcrab latched onto human head with its enormous mouth, chewed its way into the victim’s brain, and then gained full access to the human’s motor functions by unknown means. Natsu had seen the zombies headcrabs could turn humans into, and the sight never stopped haunting him. Gladly, Cana and Loke had killed them before they gained any more victims.

“You know, it still disgusts me that your brother has a headhumper as a freaking pet,” Gray said, gazing at the dead headcrab. “Zeref even named it, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Natsu said, cringing. “He calls it Lamarr. Says it’s de-beaked and completely harmless and likes eating watermelons… I call it bullshit.” Then he turned his eyes away from the creature. “Nobody really knows what goes through my brother’s mind with these experiments of his.”

Gray climbed over the part of the broken steel fence. “Sometimes I wonder what he’s doing in this lab all day long, but then I realise that I don’t wanna know,” he said. “Have you heard of the teleport project? It would be much appreciated if he’d finally succeed at that. We wouldn’t have to thread this shitpath every damn week.”

Natsu shrugged and followed Gray to the other side of the fence, walking into shadows towards the brighter space where Station 12 was located. “That would indeed be great, but from what I’ve last heard, there’s been no breakthrough yet. Not having a teleport is better than a broken teleport.”

“Yeah,” Gray said, shuddering. “I’m still having nightmares about that cat.”

“Geez, don’t mention it.”

Gray was about to say something, but Natsu silenced him by lifting his arm. The station – the abandoned warehouse by the sewers, fenced and guarded, was eerily quiet. Usually, by now, they were supposed to be welcomed by someone. There was always a team keeping the station, but now, it seemed there were none.

“Don’t like the looks of this,” Natsu whispered, carefully scanning the environment as they walked closer to the wall. “Can you test your radio again? We’ve gotta get contact inside and see what’s going on.”

Gray nodded and took out the radiophone, pressing the buttons again. Out of the static, a faint voice could be heard. It’s finally working. They both flinched and crouched closer to the speaker.   

“We don’t… what are you…don’t shoot! What are you doing? Please, don’t hurt me! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Don’t –“

The transmission ended with the abrupt roar of the machine guns. Cold shivers ran down Natsu’s spine – the radio went silent, but from the cellar of the station, he could hear the screams and the gunfire. Upon an impulse, he aimed to run straight in, but Gray caught him by the collar of his suit and held him still.

“Station 12, come in. Station 12, do you read?” Gray shouted to the radio.

“This is Station 8!” responded someone from the channel. The connection was weak and frail, words barely recognisable. “We heard 12 go down and out. Surgical strike units are targeting railway stations. Repeat, civil protection is coming down on underground stations! We are already getting refugees from 9 and outlying! Looks like we’re –“

Then, the voice was cut again – and from there, Natsu’s mind went fully blank. A snap of the synapse, and now it was fucking war.

The Resistance was under direct attack.

Natsu caught Gray’s radio and hissed in. “Station 8, do you copy? Station 8, are you there?” He bit hard into his lip and threw his fist in frustration. “Fucking hell, I can’t believe this!” Then he pulled on Gray, forcing him to his feet. Quickly, Natsu took out his resistance scarf, wrapped it around his arm and put the helmet back on his head – in a situation like this, friendly fire was better than a bullet to the head from CP. “Come on, let’s go!”

They ran into the sideway stairs, down into the cellar and kicked open the door. A strong scent of blood and gunfire flooded in, a terror that had just been released and now grown deadly silent. With the night-vision turned on, Natsu saw the bodies in the darkness – all lined up against the wall, shot from behind. There were eight of them.

And Natsu knew all their faces.

The rage did not blind him. It never did. So fast he found the Combine soldiers, turned his gun at them, and shot. The half-second’s confusion he gained by wearing their uniform was enough to get them killed, for they saw not the resistance badge in his arm, not before their eyes were shut forever. Gray aimed for the soldier climbing on the ladder to the upper level, pressed down the trigger, and then the cop’s pierced body dropped to the ground as the blood began to spread below him.

There had to be more of them.

Natsu scanned through the shadows while Gray ran towards the ladder, hearing distant chatter from upstairs, voices distorted by vocoders. Natsu kept cursing as he crouched by the bodies to check if any of them was still alive, if they could be saved somehow, but his hopes withered fast. Just a few hours ago Natsu had promised them a better life, and now the CP’s pulse rifles had torn them to shreds.

But Cana and Loke weren’t among the corpses.

Natsu stood up, mumbling silent apologies to the victims while he stole one last glance around, running after Gray. All supplies in the cellar chamber were thrown over and destroyed, even the radio was shot to pieces. There had been beds, shelves full of preserved food and medicines and ammo, but now it was all coated in blood and gasoline – and right then Natsu realised they had to get out of there immediately.

On the second floor, several flatlines rang as Gray shot the CP officers to their deaths. Natsu jumped the ladder, keeping his gun in his left hand, pointing upwards as his finger rested on the trigger. A faint sound of a rolling bottle approached him, and before he fully recognised it, the firebomb dropped from the hatch door right past him. It shattered on the floor below, each sound buried under the roaring flames as the burning gasoline engulfed the cellar.

Cursing, Natsu hurried up as fire licked his boots. He jumped out off the ladder to the upper floor and kicked the hatch closed. For this open moment, Gray kept him covered, and Natsu showed his gratitude by stepping to his side and opening fire towards the CPs lined up in stations across the room.

“Alright, which one of you fuckers tried to burn me alive!?” Natsu shouted through his vocoder. “No matter, you are all fucking dead, you pigs!”

Amongst the dead officers, there lay blue-suited Resistance members on the floor, executed in the same manner as the group of citizens in the basement – these folks had let them pass through the station yesterday, and now they were gone. Yet Natsu couldn’t grieve them until the Combine unit was destroyed and the situation stabilized, which he knew wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

As most of the CP’s fell lifeless to the ground, Gray shot directly at the last living officer’s rifle, tearing the gun out of his hands. He marched to the man, fired a few bullets into his feet, then kicked him down and caught him by the neck. “Where are two of our buddies? The brown-haired woman and the ginger man? Tell me!”

The CP didn’t say a word. He reached for the grenade on his belt, but Gray shot him in the arm. “They aren’t here!” Gray shouted. “How’d you find out about us? It ain’t no fucking coincidence that the same day you raid us in the city, you wound up fucking here –“

“Gray,” Natsu muttered, walking across the room, listening closely to the humming sound from above. “Do you hear that?”

Gray lifted his head, and instantly realised what Natsu was talking about. He mumbled a curse, shot the enemy in the neck, and hurried up to the stairs, to the roof. The humming grew into a deafening noise as they stepped outside.

Natsu raised his gaze up. A Combine’s dropship ascended towards the sky, closing its carriage door, and covering the sun as it went. Natsu pulled Gray into the cover of concrete blocks as the ship opened fire towards them, pulse bullets flying right past where they had stood. Natsu glanced through the roof but saw no bodies, right then knowing where Loke and Cana were.

They were on the ship.

Unable to say a word, Natsu and Gray watched as the dropship flew out of the canal, disappearing behind the tall buildings framing the area. The Combine rarely used these ships for combat, only for transporting troops – but as Natsu heard another chopping sound approaching, he knew they were only sending in whatever would kill them.

He could only steal a glance at the overflying hunter-chopper before the bombs unfurled.  

// December 5th, Tuesday, 5:45 PM. Black Mesa East. //

After those words, Natsu fell quiet. His cigarette had burned out, but he still held its remains between his fingers, blankly staring at the table in front of him.

“So, this is where Gray was injured?”

“No,” Natsu said, then realised he was lying. Though his memories of the events were sharp, he struggled to speak them out. “Or, well, he got a shell shard into his arm at Station 12, so yes, he was first injured at station 12.”

“Then where did he receive those bullet wounds?”

“Station 8.”

“What happened?”

Then, Natsu reached for another cigarette. Leader Makarov sighed, crossing his arms on his chest. Hell, what should I even say? Natsu thought as the silence stretched on. How can I tell them? He ignited the smoke, inhaled it, yet found absolutely no relief. They waited for his answer, but there were no words to describe the events of Station 8. Not now, not yet.

“I think we can get to that a bit later,” Erza said then, understanding that when Natsu went silent, things were really bad. “What concerns me the most is what happened to Loke and Cana. Are you sure they were taken into the dropship?”

Natsu shrugged. “I couldn’t see them getting in. Their radio signals were also gone. But I’m sure if they were taken, they were taken alive.” He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his aching forehead. “But for them, it’s probably worse.”

“Indeed. The Combine needs information. And they have their way of getting it,” Erza replied. “But… I wish I didn’t have to say this, but this all seems that somebody ratted on us. If there’s no sign of Cana and Loke, then –“

“It’s no fucking way it was them. I trust them with my life,” Natsu cut her off. “It’s gotta be that ninth citizen we were supposed to rescue. That black-haired woman. She heard too much of our plans, and then gave us into the Combine.”

“Then Cana and Loke made a mistake trusting that citizen. That’s bad news for the whole rebellion.”

Natsu glanced at Makarov. Sadness glimmered in his dark eyes. So far, Makarov had chosen to trust humanity – to trust citizens –  to fight united against the Combine. Everyone who believed in Earth’s freedom was an addition to the rebellion, no matter if they became a fighter or just a passive supporter. Even those who didn’t believe in their goals never wanted to hurt them. Now, somebody did – and for their trust, they had to pay with blood.        

“Do you know the woman’s name?” Erza asked.

Natsu knit his brows. “One of the other citizens called her Minerva, but I’m not sure if that’s her real name. If she’s an infiltrator, it probably isn’t. She behaved like a normal citizen before she suddenly disappeared. At least I didn’t notice something was off.”

Makarov nodded. “Good thing is that Black Mesa East isn’t bombed to the ground yet. If they knew about our base, they would’ve aimed here first instead of destroying stations of our underground railroad,” he said. “But the bad thing is that they’re now aware of the railroad. You sent an evacuation code to everyone in the other stations?”

“Yes. All posts will be abandoned to avoid further casualties.”

“We’ve already received refugees from the closest stations,” Erza said. “We’ll figure out what to do with them, but for now, the railroad is closed. The vortigaunts are working extra hard to conceal all signals of the base to ensure that we’ll stay under the radar. For now, we are safe, but we’ll remain cautious.”

Slowly, Natsu inhaled the smoke, failing to trust Erza’s words. Even if the Combine would follow their tracks, they’d be stopped by the doorstep. Finding the base without knowing where to go was nearly impossible, and getting in was even harder. But they have Cana and Loke, Natsu was grimly reminded. If they break in the hands of the Combine, then things it’ll be really bad.     

Makarov seemed to have the same thought. “We’ll be launching a rescue operation for our captured comrades. It’s most likely they’ll be taken to Nova Prospekt,” the leader said, making Natsu shudder. “Tomorrow we’ll gather a team and send them in. It’s crucial for our survival that they’re rescued… or silenced, as soon as possible.”

“Will I be going?” Natsu asked. Great, if I’d even get to wash off the blood before being sent on another round, that would be nice. But the way Makarov said they had to be silenced wrenched his guts. I just don’t want to kill any more comrades, fucking damn it.

“No,” Makarov said. “We have other plans for you.”

Natsu squeezed his eyes shut, instantly knowing this would be worse.

“Well, what is it?”

“We’ll let you know as soon as the report is done,” Erza said. “I’m sorry, but we need to know what happened at Station 8.”

Lowering his gaze at the table, Natsu let his smoke burn on its own. Never before had he had issues giving reports, but now, he froze. I did what I must, he thought, still remembering the frightened screams before he pulled the trigger. I can’t help a casualty if I become a casualty, that’s the rule, but fuck, how can I fucking tell them?  

“I had to kill a citizen.”

Natsu brought the cigarette back to his lips as Makarov’s and Erza’s eyes shot into him. In disbelief, they stared at him, wondering if they’d heard right. But yes, they did.

“Here’s how it happened.” __________________________________________________________

// December 5th, Tuesday, 5:46 PM. City 17. //

It happened so fast.

As he lay hiding in the sewer tunnel, holding a gun tight against his chest, he still struggled to understand what was going on. What happened to the world he’d known? Who were these strange soldiers in white armour and gas masks hunting him for not having an ID to show? Why was his former employer speaking on the massive screens, mumbling something about our benefactors?   

Just how many years had passed since he had last walked on Earth?

Yet still, he held onto the gun he’d managed to steal. Next, he’d need armour – if he’d get his old hazard suit from Black Mesa, that would also be great, but perhaps it was too much to hope for. Perhaps there’d be a dead soldier lying somewhere he could borrow some equipment from, but before that, he didn’t have a chance of surviving in this strange, changed world. He had to figure it out. He had no other choice.

Then, he had to find his sons.

[150en]

Bdubs sweet home.

[deltoidlover]

'Caveat' illustration for the second chapter of my ao3 fanfiction, Lucky https://archiveofourown.org/works/46879288/chapters/118113394

i'm not the best at backgrounds like this but it was fun to try out

[johnguu]

my friend got me into half life please save me

[tantaliart]

guess you won’t be coming over

[seventh-district]

This Evening I Will Not Forget

“I jumped into the fray with the intention of helping you and next thing I know I’m standing there uselessly watching the first person I’ve dared to love in two fucking centuries take a warhammer to the stomach!”

He turned to face you as he emphasized his last few words, now standing all but frozen in the middle of the tent with his hands held out, gesturing toward your injury. You’re about to pipe up and insist that it wasn’t his fault, but the words dissipate before you can speak them as another part of his sentence echoes in your mind. You repeat them back to him in a disbelieving whisper.

“The first person you’ve dared to love?”

His tense, frustrated expression instantly falls flat.

“I didn’t say that.”

An injury and an argument lead to you revealing far more of yourself and your unspoken past to Astarion than you planned to.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Word Count: 3,292

Content Warnings: [injured Reader] (not graphically described, just mentions of bruising and pain) [mean/avoidant Astarion] [argument] [mentions of Reader's scars & non-specific allusion to their Tragic Backstory™] [vulnerability] [possibly (probably) OOC Astarion]

Author's Note: This is an excerpt from my fic An Evening I Will Not Forget, but can be read as a standalone one-shot. The only context I think you'll need is that this fic is written in the style of reliving memories, hence certain lines will mention Reader "looking back" on them.

“What's important is this evenin' I will not forget

Purple, blue, orange, red

These colors of feelin'

Give me love, I'll put my heart in it”

You’re lying on your back as cold, pale fingers press against your sensitive skin, pulling a small pained sound of protest from you.

“Sorry, sorry…”

Astarion retracts his hand, fingers curling into his palm. You reach out to catch hold of him before he can completely pull away, your voice tense with pain as you reassure him.

“No- no... don’t be. I know you’re just trying to help.”

You bring his hand back toward your exposed stomach, his fingers still coated in the healing salve he was attempting to apply. His hand hovers hesitantly over your bruised and broken skin.

“Yes, but- I’m not very good at it.”

Your thumb brushes across his wrist as you hold onto him, suspecting that if you let go he’d just retract his hand again.

“What do you mean? Of course you are.”

He shakes his head insistently.

“No. It seems like every time I try to help you, I just end up hurting you even more…”

Confusion is clear both in your voice and on your features.

“That’s not… that’s not true, Star.”

You tug lightly on his wrist to get his attention, your voice soft as you ask him a question.

“Is this about what happened today?”

He pulls his hand out of your loose hold and you let him, watching as he stands and begins pacing circles inside the tent.

“No, I’m in a bad mood because the weather isn’t quite to my liking- of course it’s about what happened today!”

The initial sarcasm in his voice gave way to frustration near the end. Not with you, but with himself.

Now that you’re observing this memory from his perspective as well, you can see the moment you sustained the injury playing over and over again in his mind, working him up further and further.

“I jumped into the fray with the intention of helping you and next thing I know I’m standing there uselessly watching the first person I’ve dared to love in two fucking centuries take a warhammer to the stomach!”

He turned to face you as he emphasized his last few words, now standing all but frozen in the middle of the tent with his hands held out, gesturing toward your injury. You’re about to pipe up and insist that it wasn’t his fault, but the words dissipate before you can speak them as another part of his sentence echoes in your mind. You repeat them back to him in a disbelieving whisper.

“The first person you’ve dared to love?”

His tense, frustrated expression instantly falls flat.

“I didn’t say that.”

Your eyes widen, nodding slowly.

“Yes you did.”

Nervous laughter escapes him as he takes a step back, distancing himself from you.

“No, no, you… you must have heard me wrong. I didn’t- I was talking about helping you, I didn’t say anything about love, what’s love got to do with this?”

You hate to push him, fearing he may bolt like a frightened deer if you double down, but you know what you heard. It wasn’t like the first time you heard him say it, slapping it on the end of a string of pick-up lines, the word obviously carrying no weight, no truth. No, this second time was different.

“I think it has more to do with it than you’re willing to admit, Astarion.”

He falters, one of very few times you’ve seen him truly caught off guard, truly speechless.

“Those are…” He searches for something to say that’ll cover up the truth that’d just spilled out of him. “...bold words for someone currently bedridden.”

You bark a laugh and it turns into a low groan at the pain it causes to flare in your lower ribs.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

If he’s being honest, even he’s hardly sure what he meant. He’s truly floundering here, for the first time in… forever.

“It means… it means that I can walk away from this conversation right now and there isn’t anything you can do about it.”

Stooping so low as to resort to childish threats, you can feel the embarrassment radiating off of him.

“Would you truly be so cruel as to do that to me right now? Walking away, leaving me vulnerable and confused just because you can’t handle the truth?”

You’re pushing your luck too far and you know it. Surprisingly, though, he takes one step toward you, moving away from the exit.

“Cruel?! If you think that me simply walking away from you counts as cruelty then you truly haven’t suffered enough.”

His words are suddenly laced with venom and they hit you harder than the barbarian’s warhammer did today, leaving a chill colder than ice in their wake.

He seems to actually hear what he said a moment later, the careless words ricocheting off of you and coming back to slam into his chest, nearly knocking him over and crushing him beneath the weight of his sudden regret.

A furious wave of heat and adrenaline courses through you as you bolt upright in the makeshift bed, ignoring the sharp pain that flares inside you in response to the sudden movement. Reaching down and grabbing at the tail of your shirt where it’s bunched up around your ribs, you hastily yank it up over your shoulders and head, tugging your arms out of the long sleeves and furiously tossing the garment directly at him.

“Suffered enough? You think I haven’t fucking suffered enough, Astarion? You don’t know the goddamned HALF of it! You’re not the only one in this tent that’s been abused, you know?! Oh wait- that’s right- you DON’T!”

Your voice cracks under the pressure of volume and emotion as fat, hot, angry tears roll down your cheeks against your will. Astarion stands there like a deer in the headlamps, your balled-up shirt having hit him softly in the chest and fallen anticlimactically to the ground. As his eyes rake over your heavily scarred arms, the angry purple markings showing no signs of lessening as they curl over your shoulders and disappear behind your back, it suddenly starts to make a lot more sense why you were so damned insistent that no one remove your clothes while treating your wounds earlier.

Shadowheart rips open the flap covering the tent’s exit, a very concerned looking Halsin ducking down behind her. Part of you is grateful that at least not everyone was currently at camp to witness your sudden breakdown, but even the sight of the two of them is enough to have you panicking. Pulling at the blanket gathered around your waist and shouting in an admittedly very childish, vulnerable voice, you demand they leave as you choke on your tears, hastily covering yourself up.

“GET OUT!”

Unsure of what to do, Shadowheart surveys the scene before her with a critical eye before sighing, seeming to understand that the best thing they can do right now is give you back your privacy. She knows that if you needed her, you would call. Turning to shoo away the concerned man behind her, she lowers the flap back down with a quiet murmur of “They’re… fine. Let’s give them some space.”

Astarion finally breaks free from where he’s been stood like a statue, slowly moving toward the exit as well with an unsure glance in your direction.

You bury your face into the fabric clutched in your hands, shouting into it in exasperation.

“NOT YOU!”

He freezes, no longer knowing what to do but wishing that the ground would simply open up and swallow him whole. Back under six feet of soil feels like where he deserves to be after what he just said to you.

He racks his brain for the right thing to say, coming up empty handed and eventually deciding that honesty might just be the best policy in this situation.

“I… I’m going to level with you. I have no idea what to do right now.”

In spite of it all, you laugh, a broken sound that cuts through your tears, causing you to cough, then the strain from coughing causes more tears to fall. Though he can’t admit it, Astarion knows right then and there that he never wants to hear or see you in such pain ever again.

“I… I’ll level with you, too.”

You pull the blanket away from your face, looking at him with watery, bloodshot eyes.

“...Neither do I.”

You glance down at the floor, attempting a deep breath and failing spectacularly as another broken sob escapes you. Dropping the fabric still held up against your chest, you press your hands down into the bedroll beneath you in an attempt to support your upper body and ease the pain radiating through your core.

Astarion takes one cautious step toward you, his unsteady voice the only thing filling the silence aside from your soft crying.

“I need… to apologize. For everything.”

You shake your head in disagreement and clear your throat.

“No, you don’t. You’ve been through a worse hell than I could ever even imagine. It’s… stupid of me to try and compete with you in that regard.”

He takes another step forward, insistent.

“That isn’t true. You have… clearly been through your own hell, and it was… stupid of me to assume you hadn’t. Even worse of me to try and downplay my avoidance by… holding my past over you like some sort of… like some sort of excuse.”

You shift your weight to the side in order to lift one hand, reaching out to grab at one of the small cloths stacked beside your bed. Astarion sees you struggling to reach them and rushes forward, closing what remained of the space he’d put between you as he lifted a cloth and handed it to you without a word.

You bring it to your face, pressing it to your eyes in a useless attempt to dry the tears that were still falling. Then, moving it down to blow your running nose into the cloth before you could make an even bigger mess of yourself than you already were. Finally able to breathe a bit better, you counter his point.

“Yeah, but- the thing is, I feel like you kinda have the right to do that, given all that you’ve survived. Of course you’d see the pain of walking away from a conversation as trivial when you compare it to… literally anything you’ve experienced.”

Now that he’s returned to your side, Astarion’s head angles to drag his gaze across your exposed back, finally seeing the full extent of your scarring as you lean forward a bit to toss the dirty cloth to the floor of the tent next to your shirt. Nausea swirls deep in the pit of his stomach as the upsetting sight of your marred skin burns itself into his memory.

“I believe… that’s called a double standard.”

You throw him a sad, confused look, and he explains.

“You’re trying to give me some sort of… free pass based on what I’ve been through, but I’ve never once seen you give yourself that same sort of leniency.”

“That’s… not the same thing.”

“I’m not saying we’ve been through the exact same thing, but…” He gestures vaguely to the entirety of you. “...clearly you’ve gone through something. If I get to lord my baggage over you then surely you’re permitted to do the same.”

Your tears begin to slow as you consider his words.

“I don’t… want to do that, though. Obviously. That’s why I haven’t told you. I don’t want you giving me special treatment because ‘poor pitiful me’ has gone through some shit. I don’t think that excuses any of my current behavior.”

The silence hangs in the air for a moment before he gently drives his point home.

“Yet you think it excuses mine?”

Hm.

“...okay. I guess you’ve got me there.”

You sigh, body beginning to feel heavier than lead as the sudden rush of emotion and adrenaline fades from you. You ease yourself back down, hissing at the pain as your bruised ribs and torn muscles protest the stretch and movement. Astarion wants to assist but truth be told he’s afraid to touch you. So, he watches on helplessly, still berating himself in the back of his mind for the role he feels he played in you sustaining today’s injuries to begin with.

Once you’re laid down and relaxing into the bedroll as much as you can, you make no effort to cover yourself up, not caring how long his eyes wander across your exposed skin. Silently, he tries to read the countless jagged lines and dots carved into you like they may eventually come together to paint him a picture of all that’s happened to you.

No picture anyone could paint would ever do the pain justice.

He settles himself down next to you as your tired eyes stare a hole in the ceiling of the tent.

“You do not have to accept my apology, but I will not rescind it. I do have the wherewithal to know that what I said was wrong. It was cruel. I…”

He exhales, the heavy sound full of the weight carried by a man that hasn’t been this honest with anyone in centuries.

“I…  tossed aside any consideration for how you may have felt, letting myself get lost in my own… stupid fears. It wasn’t right. It certainly wasn’t fair to you.”

Your head lolls to the side, appraising him with lidded eyes.

“You know… you’re surprisingly self-aware when you aren’t being a pompous ass.”

Your words draw a surprised laugh out of him and after a moment of consideration, he nods slowly in reluctant agreement.

“I’ve… had a lot of time to sit with myself and think. Eventually you get to know yourself pretty well.”

He looks down, idly picking at the loose threads on the edge of your well-worn bedroll.

“All of that self-awareness apparently doesn’t make me any kinder though, does it?”

It’s a rhetorical question but you answer it all the same.

“I still stand by my statement that you have good reason to be so… abrasive. Just being aware of those reasons doesn’t mean that they suddenly don’t affect you any more.”

Your hand raises from where it laid lifelessly beside you, reaching over for Astarion’s and pulling his anxious fingers away from attacking the weak points of your bedroll. You don’t release his hand once you direct him away from the loose threads, holding onto him as you continue to muse aloud.

“I think that a lot of us are just doing our best to not allow our past to affect our present, to varying degrees of success. Sometimes we fail. But- I believe all that truly matters at the end of the day is that we’re trying, though. … And, Astarion?”

“...yes?”

“I can tell that you’re trying.” You squeeze his hand. “And I accept your apology.”

You take a slow, deep breath, and listen as his voice comes out softer than you’ve ever heard it.

“Thank you.”

You nod your head in a silent “of course,” laying in thoughtful silence for a few moments before speaking.

“I… feel like I should apologize as well.”

Now it’s Astarion’s turn to be confused.

“What ever for?”

You weakly raise your other hand to gesture all around the room.

“Just… this. The scene I just made. Heaping all of this emotion onto you when you were obviously already struggling with how you felt about me in the first place.”

He doesn’t take long to respond.

“No, I don’t think you need to apologize for that. This… seems like it really needed to come out. I could never be upset with you for sharing it with me, regardless of the… unideal circumstances.”

He then seems to realize something.

“I hope you don’t regret it, though. Sharing this with me.”

You shake your head decisively and the motion causes your impending headache to flare.

“No. I don’t. I- uh- you were going to find out eventually with how… close we’ve been getting. I just couldn’t find the right time to tell you- or- well, show you, I guess.”

Your hand releases its hold on his, reaching up to carefully brush your fingertips across the mottled skin of your stomach. You raise your head up, angling it down to look down at the injury with a thoughtful gaze. Glancing over toward Astarion, you ask him another question.

“Can you hand me that salve from earlier? It never really… got fully applied.”

He immediately reaches behind him for the container, but holds it in his grasp as he stumbles over his words.

“I- I, uhm… wouldn’t mind trying again, if you want me to. If you don’t I’ll understand, though. Just… want you to know that the offer is still there.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, but you’re completely willing to let him do it.

“Oh… sure? You’re welcome to, I just… assumed you wouldn’t want to.”

He holds his other hand up and only then do you realize he never wiped the salve from his skin.

“These fingers are numb already anyways, might as well spare yours the same fate.”

You vaguely remember Shadowheart’s words as she passed Astarion the container earlier, cautioning him to not leave it for long on any skin he didn’t want to temporarily lose feeling in.

“But hey, at least we know that it works now, right?”

You give him a tired smile, appreciative of his efforts to lighten the mood.

“Mmm, I suppose so.”

You pull your hand away, exposing your injury to him once again.

“Have at me, then.”

With your permission, he sweeps a scoop of the healing and numbing mixture across your sensitive skin and you notice how feather-light he keeps his touch this time. Looking down to observe his work, you note how the messy mixture of the massive bruise’s dark colors stand in stark contrast to his pale white fingers that brush across it.

A thought slips out of your exhausted mind.

“Pretty…”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, unsure if he heard you correctly.

“Hmm?”

“The colors. They’re pretty. Purple, blue, even kinda orange…”

You look away from the bruise and up into his ruby eyes.

“...red.”

He’s silent for a moment, his hand pausing its gentle motion. Then he scoffs, looking away and internally dismissing your words as the ramblings of a tired mind.

“You’re talking nonsense, dear.”

Your filter has all but completely vanished, feeling almost drunk on your current mixture of exhaustion and relief after such a hell of a day. Sleep beckons you and your eyes fall closed as the pain in your ribs fades, on its way to being numbed out by the potent salve. A hazy thought surfaces, reminding you to give your thanks to Shadowheart when you next awake. For now though, you relax, no thought given to the words that slip from your lips.

“But you love my nonsense, don’t you…”

His heart feels like it jumps in his chest as he hears you so casually speak the word that he’s still reluctant to even think to himself, let alone say aloud. As he finishes massaging the salve into your skin and pulls his hand back, his eyes pass over the expansive unspoken history of pain evidently etched into your skin, up across your chest, over your shoulders and down your arms. He figures the least he can do is answer you honestly before sleep pulls you under.

“I… suppose I do.”

End Notes: If you'd like to read my commentary on this scene, you can find that in the end notes of Ch. 5 on AO3 - right here!

Header Image Source: x

[snapesmorningcoffee]

[achillean-heartbeat]

Ugh i read an entire fic of one of my fave ships but the dynamic was written in such a specifically perfect fucking way that i KNOW every single fic for this ship i read after this one is gonna taste like sand because my brain wants THIS EXACT FIC again and again and again

[psilocybinlemon]

DARK ENERGY - Fairy Tail x Half-Life 2

For the past seventeen years, the Earth has been scourged by an extraterrestrial alien race known as the Combine. The remaining humanity is bound in shackles while the planet is sapped from its precious resources. However, a covert group of rebels still persists, aiming to defeat the Combine and restore their freedom.

Natsu, a proficient Resistance soldier, helps escort citizens from the Combine-controlled City 17 into safer regions, while his older brother Zeref works restlessly in his laboratory to create a functioning teleport. If that succeeds, the evacuation operations would be much smoother, and Natsu and his team wouldn’t have to constantly put their lives at risk.

The process stands still until the missing piece is found and delivered to the team by a scientist named Lucy. But at the same time, long-lost forces awaken and join the fray, causing the Combine to launch a full-term attack for wiping out the Resistance. Let the war end in either total victory or their extinction – no further compromise shall they allow.

// Modern Post-Apocalyptic AU, based in the universe of Half-Life series. Rated Explicit for death, blood and gore, terrible politics, war, that kind of stuff you see in First-Person Shooter games. Pairing: Eventual Nalu Chapters in Tumblr: 1 Also in AO3

PROLOGUE: 17

“In our obsession with antagonisms of the moment, we often forget how much unites all the members of humanity. Perhaps we need some outside, universal threat to make us recognize this common bond. I occasionally think how quickly our differences worldwide would vanish if we were facing a threat from outside this world.” - Ronald Reagan, Address to the 42nd Session of the United Nations General Assembly in New York, NY, 1987

// December 5th, 2017. Tuesday, 4:45 PM. Black Mesa East // The 5th of December had always felt like an anniversary of sorts, but for what exactly, Natsu couldn’t tell.

From the rooftops of Black Mesa East, the scenery opened far and wide across the wastelands. The sun was descending closer to the horizon, nearly hiding behind the Citadel,  the enormous tower that pierced the skies. Even from afar, Natsu could see the flying synths returning and leaving their nest of darkness. The shadows of that tower, the enemy’s main fortress, stretched over his life like the plague, but he still clung to the rays of light that shone behind it.

Sometimes, when he stared at the setting sun long enough, he could forget the weight of the machine gun that rested in his arms, but not today. Not on the 5thof December, because this day, seventeen years ago, the world as he’d known it had come to an end.

And his hands were still covered in blood.

He let out a weary sigh. On the outskirts of the distant city, a cloud of black smoke rose from the depths of the canal, approximately where Station 12 was located. Natsu had been there when the bombs unfurled and fires began to spread. Earlier this day, his squad had been escorting a group of citizens through the underground railroad, when out of sudden, the Combine had ambushed them. Such a thing hadn’t happened in years – they had been able to operate covertly in peace, but now, the enemy had finally sniffed them out.

Though dread and fear had been building up in his chest since it happened, Natsu still couldn’t comprehend it. His missions had never failed. He lowered his gaze from the sun to his hands. The dark crimson stains on his gloves and the splatters on his gun were still there, reminding him it had truly happened. They had lost every citizen they were supposed to protect. His partner lay in the infirmary in critical condition and the rest of the team were still missing. Though he couldn’t feel the pain, the weight of this failure held him in a chokehold, like an open wound he couldn’t cauterize.

Yet somehow, ill precognition remained with him. Today had been only the beginning. The worst was yet to come.

Then, he caught a signal of someone arriving on the roof. Carrying the codename “Scarlet”, another soldier came to his field of detection, but stayed there at the edge for a while. Natsu didn’t need to glance past his shoulder to know Erza was staring at him, unable to say anything. She often used to complain about him coming to the roof, but now her silence felt much worse than her yelling ever did.

“Sergeant Dragneel, it’s time for a mission report.”

Natsu turned towards her. Clad in her black Overwatch armour, the commander of the Resistance units stood next to the door. The expression on Erza’s face was stern, yet even she failed to masquerade her pain. There wasn’t any disappointment in it, no. Only sadness. As they exchanged a wordless gaze, Natsu answered with a nod. He dreaded the thought of reporting today’s events to their leader, but it had to be done, for the sake of the lives they had lost. So, he stole one last glance at the sunset, and followed Erza back to the building.

“So, what happened?” Erza asked after a long silence, as they walked through the corridor towards the leader’s office. Her tone was softer now, as if the titles and formalities had been stripped from their conversation, giving him an opportunity to speak from friend to friend. When he remained quiet, Erza glanced at him. “Natsu?”

He scoffed dryly.

“Everything went to hell.” __________________________________________________________

// December 5th, 2017. Tuesday, 7:13 AM. City 17 //

The day had just dawned bright and crispy, and the 47thevacuation operation for this year was almost complete.

So far, everything had gone according to the plans. Natsu’s squad hadn’t encountered any unexpected hindrances or obstacles, except for a certain barnacle accident in the canals that Gray refused to talk about. Either way, the mission had passed without further injuries, and Natsu was anxious to make it back to Black Mesa East. If they’d travel fast, he could sleep in his own bed tonight. That thought always kept him going.

Since arriving in City 17 late yesterday evening, they had found a place to stay in the apartments near the main railway station. Despite having slept for only a few hours last night on a thin mattress in the cold kitchen corner, no signs of tiredness adorned Natsu’s face. In the bleak morning light, he ate some breakfast with Gray. They had found some coffee and wheat crackers in the cabinets, yet Natsu had not dared to check their expiration dates. Snacks from the previous century filled his stomach just as well if he didn’t think about it too much.

“Hey, Natsu, guess what,” Gray said, holding back a snicker of a laugh. “That Combine’s‘non-mechanical reproduction simulation’is pretty lit shit.”

Natsu’s gaze shot from the newspaper to the black-haired man, who sat on the opposite side of the small makeshift table. “Man, what the hell?”

Gray took the first sip of the coffee that had stopped steaming a while ago. “Yeah. When their soldiers have earned a hundred credits, they can get that as a reward. It’s basically some virtual porn, quite realistic, but the Combine’s representation was rather… weird.”

“Don’t tell me you tried it.”

“I found the data when I was hacking into their servers yesterday. Of course I had to check what that‘non-mechanical reproduction simulation’was.” When Natsu didn’t answer, Gray spread his arms in defence.So that’s why he was locked in the bathroom for two hours last night,Natsu thought. “Don’t judge, it’s my job to sniff into these things as a data scavenger!”

Sighing, Natsu leant his forehead onto his palm, unable to look at his fellow soldier. The yellow-papered newspaper, painted by numerous coffee stains, wrinkled beneath his elbow. A familiar headline covered most of the first page, one he had seen too many times before.EARTH SURRENDERS, it said, loud and clear. The ink had faded in the passing of the years, but the date was still visible in the upper corner of the page.15th of December, 2000, ten days after the incident that had changed everything.    

“Can’t fucking believe it has been almost seventeen years and there still isn’t a fresh newspaper,” Natsu muttered, trying to distract himself from Gray’s shit. He lifted the white cup to his lips and poured down the last of his coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste. Just to be sure which day it was, he checked today’s date on his wristwatch.December 5th. He sneered. “It was this exact day when the world went to hell.”  

Gray was quiet for a while. Talking about the First Days always made him shut down. The men were of the same age – Gray had also been only five years old when the incident happened, but he’d never told where he was then. Natsu had shared everything of his story with Gray, even the fact that it had been his dad in the test chamber that fateful day. Yet somehow, Natsu had always thought Gray’s story had to be so much worse.

Though memories surfaced from the depths of his mind on this particular day, they failed to make him cry. Few things did anymore. He had cried then when his mother shoved him to the train with his brother and sworn she’d find them later. She never did. He had cried when the lights had gone out for good – he hadn’t been afraid of the darkness, but the creatures that lurked in it. He wasn’t scared of them anymore. But if he could tell the five-year-old him that he’d come to kill those monsters later on, he wasn’t sure if he would.

Maybe his younger self would be better off without knowing where life after the world’s end would take him.

“I’d rather…” Gray started and sighed. From the sudden darkening of his eyes, Natsu could tell the man had drifted into his memories as well. “I’d rather not talk about it now.”

Natsu nodded.

“Me neither.”

They were the only ones in the apartment’s small kitchen, but the distant chatter of others could be heard from the living room. The doors between the rooms had been removed some time ago, yet the design of the whole block must’ve been bleak long before the world went down. Except for their own fortresses and industrial factories, the Combine had built nothing on Earth. City 17 was formed on the foundation of some East-European city, and the architecture was still from the Soviet era. What exactly had been the city’s name before it became City 17, Natsu didn’t know, and it probably didn’t matter anymore.

By the time Natsu’s group arrived here, most of the block’s citizens had chosen, orbeenchosen to be deployed to the Combine. It seemed to be the fate of many neighbourhoods recently. Only a group of nine had stayed in the building trying to survive with the little food and supplies they had left. When they were asked if they wanted to leave the city, their answer was a clear, eager yes.

In the living room, Cana and Loke were sharing details of their upcoming escape journey with the citizens. There were three men and six women, which meant they’d have to divide into two groups to stay under the radar. Each time it surprised Natsu to hear that most citizens had no idea the underground railroad – or Black Mesa East, the largest Resistance base in the area, where the road led – even existed, but at least they had managed to keep it covered so far. The trip through the Xen-infested canals wouldn’t be easy, yet many still chose to take the risk. Life had been getting increasingly more intolerable in City 17.

“If you want, I can share the files with ya,” Gray said after the silence. “Wouldn’t hurt to have a good laugh, right?”

“No thanks, idiot,” Natsu answered and turned a page on the newspaper. To ignore Gray’s meaningless rumbling, he kept reading, even though he had read the same article hundreds of times.Portal storms continue. Windows to another world open across the globe. Stay calm and indoors to avoid panic, experts advise. Natsu scoffed dryly. Staying indoors hadn’t helped much when a portal to Xen could randomly open at one’s toilet, and a swarm of acid-spitting monsters flooded the house. It hadn’t happened to Natsu, but he’d heard enough stories. No one had been able to avoid panic on the First Days. 

“Why do you always have to be such a grim bastard?” Gray asked, grinning. “I could just upload those to your BCI while you sleep, you know.” He reached across the table and gently knocked the small metallic dots on Natsu’s right temple. “Maybe that would make you happier.”

Natsu shoved his hand away, shuddering at the thought. “If you do that, I’ll kill you,” he warned, though Gray knew he didn’t truly mean it. Natsu joked about killing his second-in-command man at least once a day, but he’d never let any harm fall on his most-trusted friend. “I really don’t want to experience some fucked-up alien porn, thank you very much.”

“Oh yeah? Got enough bitches on your dick?”

Natsu scoffed and stared into his eyes for a moment. “I got one bitch on my fucking face at the moment.”

Gray smirked, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve heard some folks saying that they’d join the Civil Protection just to get a proper meal. I think they just wanna see some alien porn. Think about it, man. Some people are giving up their entire freedom for the opportunity.”

Natsu glanced at Gray’s cup. “Well, if they’re forced to drink coffee and eat crackers that both expired in 1999, it’s no wonder they consider joining the CP.” Then he dug an old lighter and a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his cargo pants, took one and held it between his teeth as he ignited it. “Damn, these cigs are stale as fuck,” he muttered as he exhaled the cloud through the broken window, gazing down at the empty streets below.

Gray shrugged and took another sip of cold, black coffee. “If you don’t think about it, it ain’t that bad.” Gray laughed and beckoned at the pack Natsu had placed next to his empty coffee cup. “Gimme one of those.”

Natsu glared at him from below his brows. “Bad shit happens to greedy whores,” he growled slowly.

“Come on, just this once. I left mine at the base.”

“Too bad then. You have no idea how long it took to find a well-preserved carton.”

“Well, I guess I could tell Lisanna how much you’re smoking on the missions. Maybe she’d help you get rid of thatwell-preserved cartonby giving that to me instead,” Gray replied mockingly. “She’d hate it if you became impotent, you know.”

“Nah. She already knows how much I smoke, and I don’t think she even cares about my potency anymore, anyway,” Natsu answered and blew out some smoke. “You’re one really desperate bitch aren’t you?”

“Hey, I’m dying for a cig,” Gray whined. “Do you want me to beg or suck your –?”

“Man, just shut up.” Knowing he couldactuallydo that, Natsu gave in. “Here, but you’ll owe me a beer,” he muttered and offered the pack to Gray, pinching his brows when the man took two. Smiling wickedly, Gray put the extra one behind his ear, then stood up from the table and walked to Natsu, then bent down to ignite his cigarette on the burning end of Natsu’s smoke. As he straightened his back and leaned against the windowsill, Natsu’s scowling gaze was still on him. “That’s twobeers now,” he scoffed. “I hate it when you do that.”

“Whatever you wish, you grumpy cunt,” Gray answered, breathing out the smoke at Natsu’s face. He remained quiet for a moment, as if thinking back his words. “There’s some shit between you and Lisanna? That’s why you’re so cranky?”

Natsu shrugged. If Gray would rather not talk about the First Days, Natsu really didn’t like sharing his misfortunes with women. Both were equally catastrophic. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated? As if you somehow forgot she’s your trainee and you shouldn’t actually be fucking her?”

“Something like that,” Natsu mumbled as he inhaled the smoke, then rubbed the back of his neck before exhaling it. “I don’t know. It just ain’t working.” 

“It can’t be as bad as when you were Erza’s trainee, and –“

“For fuck’s sake let’s not mentionthat!”

“Jellal would skin you alive if he knew about it,” Gray snickered. “Hmm, I could use that to extort cigs from you, right? Why didn’t I think of that earlier…”

Natsu buried his face into his hands, holding the cigarette between his fingers, a bit further away from his hair. Sometimes even he couldn’t believe all the things he had done – and actually, some were so distant and unbelievable he kept forgetting about them, as long as Gray didn’t kindly decide to bring them back up at unfortunate moments. His little fling with Erza from years ago was a brilliant example of such things. Gray made sure he’d never hear the end of it. 

Gray rubbed his chin. “We were in Erza’s squad when we raided the old warehouse near the canals, right? Remember that?” he asked, his tone less snarky than previously. Perhaps even he realised he’d hit the wrong subject, and it was better to shift to something else.

Natsu lowered his arms to the table, lifting his brow. “Was this the sex-tape case?”

“Yeah,” Gray laughed. “Somebody had hidden their VSC cassettes of home-filmed hot stuff into empty ammo crates. We took them to Black Mesa East and showed them to the vortigaunts.” Natsu’s open cringe made him even more excited. “Poor vortigaunts were so confused. What did they say? Shit, like,ga la lung... churr galing chur alla gung...”

Natsu failed to hold back his laughter as Gray imitated the vortigaunt speech. “You know, they often speak in our language until they wish to speak ‘unflattering things’about us,” he said and brought the cigarette back to his lips. “That probably meantgeez, these guys are fucking morons or something.”

“I kinda miss the vortigaunts when we’re away,” Gray said after a small silence, looking out from the window. “All they do is stare straight into your soul and utter poetry.” Suddenly, a frown formed between the man’s brows. He remained perfectly still while staring at the streets, until he flinched away from the windowsill. “Shit, the metro cops are here.”

“What!?” Natsu answered, disbelief and rage mixing in his whisper. He spun around in his chair and peeked out from the window, then instantly pulled his head back. A unit of Civil Protection, about six soldiers, marched down the streets towards the building. “Oh shit, you’re right.”

“Fucking hell,” Gray said, dumping the half-burned cigarette butt into the coffee cup, and then they both picked up their machine guns that had been resting against their chairs. He rushed to the living room with Natsu following his trail. The mention of metro cops – they probably hadn’t been listening to their whole conversation, hopefully – had already alerted the rest of the squad and the citizens. “We’ve gotta get going now. CP’s heading this way!”

“They’ve no reason to come to our place!” exclaimed one citizen, a younger woman whose name Natsu couldn’t remember – either Milly or Millianna, he wasn’t sure.

“Don’t worry, they’ll find one,” Natsu told her, and began counting the people. He made it to eight heads when he realised one was missing. When they had woken up an hour ago, there had surely been nine of them. “Where’s the dark-haired lady?”

“Minerva said she’d go pick up something important from the cellar, but she hasn’t gotten back,” the girl said.

“When did she leave?”

“Half an hour ago, maybe.”

Suspicion aroused in Natsu’s mind. “We won’t wait for her. The only important thing you’ll be taking from here is your lives. So, since the CP’s so kindly decided to raid this fucking building, we’ll escape through the roofs.” He gestured at Loke and Cana. “You two take them outta here, me and Gray will follow as soon as we can.”

Loke nodded, then ordered each citizen to the hallway. Natsu and Gray remained in the room as the others left, putting their helmets on their heads. While Loke and Cana wore just bullet vests upon long-sleeved jackets and scarves with the Resistance symbol, lambda letter, embroidered on them, Natsu and Gray were fully clad in Civil Protection armour sets. It was a part of their strategy, to use infiltration and escape methods to take citizens to safety. So far, it had always worked, and Natsu had no reason to doubt why it wouldn’t work this time.

Rubble sounded loud and clear in the staircase as the front door on the first floor was blown up, followed by many hasty steps. The short, blonde girl next to the brown-haired one fell pale as a ghost. “I told you they’d be coming for us next! It was just a matter of time!”

“Quit screaming and go,” Natsu ordered her, his voice transmuted by his helmet’s vocoder as he shoved the trembling girl into the hallway. He loaded his SMG just to be sure – despite using full armour stolen from killed CP’s, their cover wasn’t unbreakable. If they’d start asking too many questions, he’d have no other choice than to empty the magazine. Disguising into Combine uniforms and getting caught undercover meant gaining instant express to Nova Prospekt – a fate worse than death.

When the citizens had run to the second store on Cana’s and Loke’s lead, Natsu and Gray closed the apartment doors, pretending to have just finished a check-up. Through the vision shield of his helmet, Natsu detected the incoming soldiers before they reached the end of the stairs. He turned towards them, raising his hand to his brow.

“We’ve just finished inspection raids of this block. We found no disturbances in this sector,”  Natsu reported with no falter in his voice.

There were eight of them, hiding their faces behind those white masks. It sickened him every time that the Civil Protection werestill human. They wore armbands with “c17:i4o” emblazons on them, and “C17” was printed on the back of their collars – same as Natsu and Gray, yet nothing about their hearts was the same. Just how many blocks had these bastards brutalized? How many had they killed, deployed to their forces, or sent to Nova Prospekt? Those who joined the CP had given up their freedom, theirhumanity,while the Resistance still clung to it, and wouldkeep clinging, no matter how hard the Combine tried to break them.

The leader of the squad held a stun baton, charged with electricity, in his gloved hands, as if eager to get to beat people with it. The officer stepped closer to them. “We’ve just gotten a report of a serious disturbance in this specific sector. According to the reports, there have been suspected anticitizens,” his voice altered into a robotic monotone, the same as Natsu’s and Gray’s.

… what?

“We heard the same, but we found no-one here. It must’ve been a false alarm,” Gray said. “This building is clear. We’re just leaving.”

The officer didn’t seem to believe them. “Fascinating. We weren’t supposed to have extra officers in this area today. Which shift are you in? Show me your IDs, so we can redirect you to your right area of responsibility before the big boss notices.”

Natsu and Gray glanced at each other, and though they couldn’t see each other’s expression, they knew they had the same thought.

They raised their guns and opened fire.

“243! Assault on protection team!” a soldier on the back shouted to his radio, the electric voice buried under the roar of the bullets. Natsu and Gray walked back while keeping their aim directly at the soldiers, and one by one their radios went static, a high-pitched humming echoing in the hallway. Blood splattered to the walls and began to pool on the concrete floor as the CP’s dropped dead, a sight Natsu had grown desensitized to long ago.

This time, they had the advantage of the surprise, but they wouldn’t have it again. When all eight men lay still and dead, sirens rang in the distance. One of them had managed to call for reinforcement, and before they’d come here, the Resistance was better to be far away. The Combine might be slow to wake, but once they’d get up, one didn’t want to get in their way.

So, Natsu and Gray began running.

“Shit,anticitizens? Did that bitch rat on us!?” Natsu growled, his mind connecting the dots rapidly fast. “There’s no other way the CP would’ve sniffed us out. I’ll fucking kill her if –“

“We can’t jump to conclusions. We’ll figure out what happened later, now we’ve gotta get the hell outta here!” Gray shouted and kicked open the staircase door Cana and Loke had closed. The circular stairway lead up to many levels, and soon they made it to the roof, the sirens sounding ever louder. Scanners – those flying machines taking pictures of citizens – floated closer to them, and Gray shot them down before running to the rooftops.

There was a route they had planned for a situation like this. They’d go along the roofs for about a few blocks, then descend back to ground level on a fire ladder, in hopes of leading the enemy astray. As they went, Natsu struggled – actuallystruggled, for the first time in ages – to concentrate on the task. His mind boiled with rage. Normally his BCI, the brain-computer interface, a part of technology stolen from the Overwatch, balanced the turmoil in his head when shit went to hell. Natsu’s brother had installed it on him years ago when he ascended to the elite forces of the Resistance, yet this moment proved that the unison of humans and machines was still far from complete – and Natsu found it oddly comforting to feelsomething for a chance.

But having a citizen turn against them was something that hadn’t happened before. Perhaps they were fools. They should’ve been expecting it as the Combine’s grip over the people kept ever tightening.

Until now, the Resistance could’ve trusted the people’s support. They had trusted thepeople,who trustedthem to fight the Combine, even if they wouldn’t want to fight it themselves. Just how much had the woman heard before selling them out? If the Combine knew about Black Mesa East, then it was critical to find out. It wouldn’t just possibly get them killed, it would endanger the whole Resistance.

As they ran across the roofs, hiding behind the chimneys and ridges while the sirens howled, Natsu’s inner turmoil began to ease. The momentary spike of adrenaline had been too much for the interface to deflect, but now it began to work as it was supposed to – keeping him alert, but suppressing his anger and distress. His brother always said that even the most perfect machines couldn’t always bendhislevel of emotional impulsivity – at least with the technology they had currently acquired. With each system update, he had felt it getting better, more intense, but at the same time, he lost another part of himself he didn’t think he’d ever get back.

By the time they made it to the fire ladder, the bullets were already flying.

A unit of Civil Protection had climbed to the building on the opposite side of the street, and from the roof, they opened fire. Natsu cursed silently and crouched below the half-collapsed wall, pulling Gray down with him as a rain of bullets swept past where they had just stood.

“We’ve gotta go down a different route. Can’t draw these motherfuckers to Cana and Loke,” Natsu whispered, holding tight to his gun. 

Gray nodded, pressing a button on the side of his helmet, which opened an encrypted radio connection to Loke’s end. “Loke, do you copy?” he asked, and Natsu could hear a faint echo of Loke’s reply. “We’ll try to sneak behind the main station and head underground. We’re in a shitty place here, but we’ll make it. Meet us at Route Kanal.” Then he released the button, and glanced at Natsu. “Damn man, this is just like the old times, right?”

Natsu grinned at him, then looked up. The Combine forces seemed to have lined up on the other side of the street only, making their exit from the roof through the fire ladder impossible. So, Natsu peeked over the wall, aimed his gun and fired at the soldiers across the distance, though he knew his chances of hitting them were small. Only one high-pitched flatline sounded over all the firing. However, the distance worked in their favour as well.

On the edge of the roof, they could jump to the balconies, break the windows and proceed to the ground level within the building. To signal their agreement, Natsu and Gray nodded to each other, and then they went.

Running fast and avoiding bullets, they reached the edge, with no hesitation hindering their steps even when they noticed thereweren’tany damn balconies. This side of the block was covered by a forest of leafless trees, giving no spots for the CPs to shoot them here. Natsu grasped the rain gutter as he went down, hanging for a second before swinging forth and kicking in the brittle glass. Gray followed right after him as they jumped into the abandoned apartment, the sounds of a firefight still ringing loudly on the outside.

They quickly found their way to the hallway, then made it to the windowless staircase at the end of it, ever down through the empty stores until they reached the ground level. The front door led to the side of a park. Gray shot once at the glass, it shattered, and then they escaped back to the crisp, fresh air that smelled so heavily of gunsmoke. The CP no longer had a clear sight of them, they dispersed from the roofs, yet Natsu knew they wouldn’t hold the chase for long. If they’d shoot down all the scanners before they’d snap a picture of them, they could say they’d soon be safe.

Or so Natsu hoped.

Suddenly, another sound pierced the air. An artificial, feminine voice echoed loud from the broadcast speakers all around the city block. Natsu and Gray turned their gazes in the direction where it came, both knowing what it was: the Overwatch Voice, the harbinger of death. For too many, it was the last thing they ever heard.

“ATTENTION PLEASE. UNIDENTIFIED PERSON OF INTEREST, CONFIRM YOUR CIVIL STATUS WITH LOCAL PROTECTION TEAM IMMEDIATELY.”

All the guns went silent for a moment. Natsu knew he’d be petrified in terror without his BCI, as now the electrical signals it sent to his brain suppressed his ability to feel fear. Not a shiver ran down his spine as he stared at how the CP units descended from the roof, and a choir of running steps withdrew from them.

They were going in the opposite direction.

“ATTENTION GROUND UNITS. ANTICITIZEN REPORTED IN THIS COMMUNITY. CODE: LOCK, CAUTERIZE, STABILIZE.”

“She’s talking of just one person, right?” Gray whispered to Natsu as they hid behind the trees. Then, the ground began to quake as the steps of something gigantic approached – and from between the buildings Natsu saw a Strider passing by, with at least two dozen soldiers leading it – nearly as tall as the trees, the spider-like synth marched, still further away from them.

"CITIZEN REMINDER: INACTION IS CONSPIRACY, REPORT COUNTER BEHAVIOR TO A CIVIL PROTECTION TEAM IMMEDIATELY. FAILURE TO CO-OPERATE WILL RESULT IN PERMANENT OFF-WORLD RELOCATION."

“They aren’t coming for us,” Natsu realised. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t know, but we won’t get a chance like this again! Let's get the hell outta here while we can!”

Natsu nodded, his gaze still locked on the Strider. Those monsters were rarely seen – when the Combine brought them to fray, it was better to start praying, and quick. “That’s one unlucky fucker who’s gonna get railed by that thing,” he muttered, then turned away and set forth to running. “Apparently they did something worse than we did.”

“Yeah, it isn’t every day the Combine gets pissed off like that. Let’s just hope Cana and Loke are alright,” Gray answered, then pressed the radio button again. “Do you read, Loke? We’re clear. Some shit is happening here, but we’re heading your way now.”Copy that, Loke answered the radio, and so Gray closed it.

The sirens behind them grew silent and distant as they ran through the park and jumped into the rainwater tunnel, making it to the other side of the city sector. In front of them, in the heart of the city, towered the Citadel. The Combine’s headquarters made navigating in the labyrinth of streets and buildings rather easy – across the years Natsu had learnt to recognize the landmarks so that he could always make it to the underground railroad, that started right near the main station.

They stopped in the distant alley near the plaza to catch their breaths and put their weapons on their backs. Though Natsu was still confused by all of that, he wouldn’t have time to think until they’d reached at least Station 12. He rested against the wall and stared at his boots for a moment, calmness settling into his mind again after seeing that Strider. The mission had to continue, after all.

“Everything okay?” Gray asked, and Natsu answered with a faint nod before raising his head. “Ready to keep going?”

They were almost there. To reach Route Kanal – the place where the underground railroad began – they’d have to cross the trainstation plaza, appearing as unsuspicious as they ever could. Usually, it went without a problem, as long as the Combine didn’t invite Overwatch soldiers to the fray. Those bastards could see through their masquerade faster than an atom would split. But if they’d just look like regular CP on patrol, everything would go fine. So, they took in deep breaths, and stepped out of the alley into the open square.

Compared to the previous onslaught, the plaza at the station was eerily silent. Only a few citizens seemed to have gotten off the trains and relocated to City 17. Natsu had heard how more and more of those who arrived were sent straight to Nova Prospekt – those were only rumours, obviously, but they always had more truth in them than the propaganda speeches they broadcasted on the massive screens.Welcome to City 17, sounded loudly from the speakers.It’s safer here.

They didn’t say a word to each other as they walked across the plaza. The citizens naturally avoided them, making Natsu feel sorry – if he could offer an opportunity to better life to all of them, he would. But each evacuation mission could only take so many citizens with them. As he’d seen today, City 17 was becoming an unbearable, more dangerous place. But as long as the Resistance was there, there was also hope. It beat within the hearts of those wearing the lambda symbol, even though Natsu’s scarf was hidden inside the CP’s helmet.

But as he passed by the station’s stairs, a strange feeling flooded his heart.

The feeling of being watched.

Natsu halted for a moment. He peeked over his shoulder, but saw nothing amongst the grey concrete, no scanners, no soldiers, no one. Still, he wassuresomeone was observing him. Someone familiar, someone he had lost since lost, shrouded in deep, deep shadows.

“Come on. We’re almost there,” Gray whispered to him. “Can’t keep them waiting for much longer.”

Then Natsu followed him, but the feeling in his guts just wouldn’t fade.  

____________________________________________________

// December 5th, 2017. Tuesday, 7:00 AM. //

Silence.

Darkness.

Emptiness.

Time had stood still for him since he had made that fateful choice. It must’ve been years, yet now he was called for again.Rise and shine, the voice spoke, the same voice that had been the last thing he heard before falling into very, very long sleep.Rise and… shine.

There was a piercing light, blinding the eyes that had stared into the void for an eternity. A man in a blue suit appeared from the abyss, visions from his past endeavours vanishing through his waking mind. Faintly, he could remember the deal they had made.Keep my sons safe, he had asked from this man, who had promised tosee into it, as an exchange for his… assignment.

“Not that I wish to imply you have been sleeping on the job. No one is more deserving of a rest,”said the man, an otherworldly echo in his words. Slowly, the bleak void began to shift into a corporeal world.“And all the effort in the world would have gone to waste until...well, let's just say your hour has come again.”

In a moving train he awakened. The sceneries of an urban, decayed city passed quickly by, yet in that instant, he could tell that the world as he had known it was gone,ended during his absence.

“A right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world. So wake up. Wake up, and smell the ashes.”  

Then the voice faded, and the train arrived at the station. A man, who stood in front of the wagon's doors waiting for them to open, paid him a confused gaze. He mumbled something about not seeing him get on, but there was bleakness in his voice, as if he couldn’t even care if strangers appeared on the train from nothing. The doors opened, and the man stepped out.

And outside, a public annunciation echoed with a familiar voice.

“WELCOME. WELCOME TO CITY 17."

[kiwanopie]

heyyy!! do u think we can get some sort of drabble with crime!au kiyoomi and his fiancé?? i’d love to see how they interact ~~~~ :)))

You pick at a hangnail as dress shoed feet click before you.

You don’t lift your head as orchestral music muffles under the click of a shutting door. You don't even hear it. Too immersed in your own racing thoughts to hear anything outside of the rattling in your skull. It’s ironic how radiant you look in your wedding dress. So aglow you compliment the gemstones in your tiara. Because you feel so sick you could puke your guts out till your stomach lining tore. So high strung you haven’t slept since he parted with you the day before.

Your pupils scutter over nothing as you pick at the skin until it bleeds. Tear it off your nail until the elastic of your cuticle strips down to the root of your thumb, and feel it start to ail as the wound throbs. You barely notice. Rather, stay clueless to the sting in the midst of your silent daze.

But it’s short lived. Those familiar larger palms incase your hands in their loving grip, careful in their cradle. He’s flower petal gentle as he brings one of your hands toward himself and wraps your thumb in a thin bandage. And even in his crouched position beside the makeup chair does he almost see eye to eye with you, all 6’4 of him meagerly attempting to look as small as possible for a woman he has no intention of causing any more distress to.

His voice is balming, it always is when he addresses you. “What are you thinking about, angel?”

You silently furrow into his hands.

“I-I’m…”

“I don’t...” You shake your head. “I’m sorry. Everybody’s out there waiting for me and I-I’m-“

Kiyoomi cuts you off quietly. “Don’t even think about that. Today is about us. No one else.”

You frown.

“I’m… Kiyoomi… Out of all people…” And it’s a good thing this makeup is waterproof because you’re surely about to push it to its limit. “Why me? Why choose me?”

“Don’t ask me a question like that.”

“But why, Omi?” Your lip wobbles. “I-I’m not like you. I don’t think like you, I don’t have the same training that you do, o-or the strength to be able to handle a lifestyle like this. I’m not the wife of a kingpin. The only reason I’m here is because-“

Kiyoomi firmly shushes you as he stands to his feet. Too burly and too tall, blocking out the overhead lights till the raven tufts of curls on his scalp turn miscolored and fluorescent. Like always your eyes follow him in his movements, like always, he’s ginger as he pulls you in his grasp.

Your nose is mushed into the cotton of his button up, his lips are warm and definite as he presses them against your forehead. “I don’t care about titles or circumstance. I don’t care about any of those things...” Kiyoomi swallows. “I love you and I need you. If this lifestyle is what you’re worried about then I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe and taken care of.”

You sniffle against his dress shirt. Something like that should be comforting. Especially in the arms of your future husband - one half of a bonafide national empire, and you, soon to be its elegant latter halve. Saying you fear your safety may have been a little asinine to say. In this past year and a half, you haven't so much as gotten a splinter without being assured that whatever half-cocked piece of wood that wronged you would wind up making soot prints in some landfill. You could throw a rock and hit a corpse before it even got the chance to berate you. Saying something like that will only encourage him more. An excuse to distance you from your public freedoms, and hire men that all but follow you around and chew your food for you. And even though it’s pig shit to deal with, it's already habitual. It gives you room to keep your fears to a one man minimum. But with that being said,

Kiyoomi skims his nose down the bridge of yours till his breath is kissing fever spots on your Cupid’s bow. Shivery puffs of desperate air, overwhelmed in his distance. He pinkens like a schoolboy when he’s too close for too long. Amps himself up just to trill at the high he gets from being this near - but not near enough to taste the bliss that’s your candied lips. He loves you. - He loves you. He loves you. So much it makes him shudder. Even in the short time he’s had his hands on you his palms have gone sweaty. Making hotspots on your cheekbones as he thumbs your stray tears aside.

“I know we’re not the most… conventional couple,” Quasi-post-Stockholm syndrome? “How hard things were for you in the beginning, and how much it took for us to get here. I wish I could’ve done this the right way. - You deserve that much.”

“But I love you so much it makes me sick. It’s the only thing that keeps me breathing.”

You lean into his hands as he scoots away to get a good look at you. His lovesick eyes turn the whites of yours a stinging scarlet, and you hate that seeing him get choked up cuts you so deeply.

But he only ever really cries in front of you anyway. A man this neck deep in generational human trafficking, drug trading, arms dealing, and like a million other equally awful things, should have his fair moments to excuse himself for a quiet weep. “Kiyoomi…”

“I’m sorry,” He leans in for a watery kiss. “I’m sorry. Weakness is the last thing we need from me right now.”

You guide his head against yours, and share the weight with a linchpin. It’s so recurrent that it’s earnest when you console him. “Wellness is, baby. This is about the both of us.”

“I… already don’t know what my life would be like without you. I never think about it. Every day it’s you and when are you gonna be home. - Are you gonna come back to me in one piece? Will you still be you and will you love me the same? What would I do alone in that big house?”

You mirror his thumb as you sweep away his tears. “What would I do if I didn’t have you anymore?”

The way Kiyoomi melts into your grasp is like the anodyne of a baby bird, crooning as you assague him. There’s nothing on this earth that could give him the comfort you do, and the realization of that feels brand new every time.

It’s a fresh wound. Accustomed to your chains to the extent that each chafe feels like a kiss. Metal burrowing in torrid welts, but the key’s a stipulation. Only freed by requisition.

“It’s not about safety… if anything happens to us. I’d rather it be me.” You whisper. “If not to know you’ll keep living, my peace would be in finally resting. Not wondering. Not worrying.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

It’s a fresh wound. Accustomed to your chains to the extent that each chafe feels like a kiss. Metal burrowing in torrid welts, but the key’s a stipulation. Only freed by requisition.

“It’s not about safety… if anything happens to us. I’d rather it be me.” You whisper. “If not to know you’ll keep living, my peace would be in finally resting. Not wondering. Not worrying.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: After the events of Portal 2, GLaDOS brings Wheatley out of space to keep her company. Through trial and error and revelations, their friendship grows into an undeniable connection that they just might be able to call love. No androids or humanisations.

Author: @canadian-riddler

Note from submitter: very long (132 chapters), marked as unfinished, seems to no longer be updating.

[miss-celestia13]

“You were made from scars to live a life you’d rise above.”

Thank you to my lovely, beautiful, and talented friend @anabellerose96 for this fantastic artwork 😭 it is the best early birthday present ever. I love you ❤️I have their permission to share it here! I’ve added a small snippet from a chapter of my story because I wanted to 🤭 Thank you! Aries season will soon be upon us ♈️🔥

While she hunted for something to wear that wouldn't make her feel suffocated, Jon had already dressed. Everything was too tight around her chest, and she was growing frantic as Jon approached, tying his hair back. Her heart fell at the sight of his youthful face turning grave and harsh as he finished. She wished he would wear it down, a frivolous wish, but she made it just the same as he eyed her scowl.

"What's wrong?" He asked, gaze skipping from her to the mess of gowns and coats she'd tossed on the floor.

She wanted to stomp her foot, but refrained and huffed instead.

"None of it fits anymore, and it's entirely your fault," she said, her voice more like a childish whine as Jon's face lit with amusement.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, I've been known to be, but I believe you were also involved, Dany."

Her brows hammered down, and her mouth twitched with the want to laugh.

"Yes. However, I refuse to assume blame, considering I was under the impression this was impossible." She gestured toward her stomach and let the smile itching the corners of her mouth break free as he gave a dark chuckle and embraced her.

He swayed with her in his arms and kissed the top of her head as she breathed in the scent of oiled leather and Jon.

"Well, I am glad to prove you wrong, then. There is a solution to your problem. I'll find her before I speak with Davos, alright?"

She laughed lightly and tilted her head back to meet his sparkling gaze.

"Alright. Leave before I discover my boots don't fit and blame you for that, too.”

Jon nodded solemnly and said, "Of course, my Queen. I live to serve you."

She snorted, head shaking as he backed away toward the door. She retorted, "You are a menace."

He didn't deny it and simply said, "Only for you."

Read here

[bpdbenrey]

I’m going to start reading everything in the hlvrai fandom on ao3. Starting with benrey/gordon. I’ll going to post my opinions here and a general rating! I’ll also try to include some fun things like songs I think would fit well with it, or other generally fun inclusions.

I will not be posting reviews of explicit fics that contain nsfw material as I’m a minor. But I’m going to lose my sanity either way! Fic recommendations are always welcome, and I’ll do all I can to get to them when possible. <3

Wish me luck! This fandom is crazy sometimes.

[kiramyssu]

Fling poly vampire au !!! I'm kind of writing a fic about them, idk if I will ever finish it though (More info abr the AU under the cut)

In my AU there is an old vampire tradition where vampires give away their immortality by letting their loved one kill them, as a big gesture of love, so Dice wants to get a lover eventually just because he doesn't want to live forever lol

Dice is a human for the most part, Ramu&Gen are trying to trick him initially but he figured out they are vampires since day one tbh but never mentioned, so he just goes "uh, yeah sure" to whatever excuse they make about the subject, he doesn't mind them "lying" to him because the feelings Dice has for them are honest!! And that's enough!!! (Big fan of fling poly dynamic Dice being accidentally super honest about his feelings about them, while ameyume explodes internally over it)

Ameyume dynamic is, they start working together but don't really trust each other much, but eventually they get closer, then because Ramu is weak and needs blood often Gen offers his own, and Ramu always treats the humans he drinks blood from like lovers, so by usual he gets very flirty with Gen, which drives him insane (he thinks Ramuda is not serious about it and is being insensitive about Gen's feelings, while Ramuda IS serious, he just didn't think labeling what they have was necessary😭)

[ender1821]

afterglow

prologue posted on ao3: read here!

Secret Life ends with the crumbling of an alliance that was never meant to last, the shine of its very few embers fade into nothing but bitterness, and that should’ve been it.

What Gem didn’t expect was the after part; of all the things that could follow, waking up in an unfamiliar world with an all too familiar face wasn’t what she had in mind.

[lgbtlunaverse]

I feel like fandom right now has a bit of a gripe with characters talking "like they're trying to get a good grade in therapy" in fics. Which is fair, it can definitely feel out of place. However before we generalize please consider that some of my blorbos absolutely do, in fact, want a high grade in therapy (derogatory)