#i just like calling the lost light crew the girlies

[drinkinboilingcoffee]

I wrote this like a year ago lol

Devil’s Train

February 5th, 1979, Harperton, California

Last month, a man was hit by a train in my home town.

This wasn’t that unexpected. Harperton happens to be the railroad capital of the state, so shit happens. Drunk guy stumbles onto the tracks at night, kid stands in front of a train on dare, you know, the works. But this was a weird case.

The man’s name was Oscar Kingston. I didn’t really know him, but he was my cousin’s (who happened to witness the accident) neighbor, so I’d seen him around. He was a pretty normal guy; happy marriage, 3 kids, worked as a conductor. Just an ordinary John Doe you were so familiar with that learning his name seemed unnecessary.

But one day he just… lost it, I guess. His wife realized he was late coming home from work, so she had a friend go check on him. When she got there, he was just talking to himself, said he was “catching up with an old friend”. The lady went back home, but Oscar didn’t. About an hour later, he just walked right into town, paying no mind to anyone and still chatting away. Like I said, he wasn’t the kind of guy you payed any mind, so everyone just ignored him, let him pass.

No one noticed he was heading towards the tracks until it was too late.

It must have been over quick, because the train hit him head on.

He hadn’t batted an eye. Not even when the train was right next to him. He just smiled, laughed, and kept on talking to himself. 

Or, as people started to claim, to the devil.

————————————————————————————————————————————

Harperton’s pretty religious, and it didn’t take long for the rumor mill to get turning. People started to claim that the devil himself had called him onto the tracks to claim his soul. The church even sent a preacher down to bless the tracks. Soon, it became a local legend. Satan himself leading the pure to their deaths.

I don’t really believe in that sort of thing, and I don’t think my friends do either. But a few beers and a dare later, here we were with our flashlights out on the tracks.

“So, what are we trying to do here?” Barry sniffed, kicking an empty can into a ditch. The aluminum clattered on the stone, and somewhere in the dark an animal hissed. Gregory shuffled his feet, bumping into me. My necklace tangled in his zipper, and I pushed him away.

“Isn’t it obvious?” John reached into his backpack and pulled out a pocket knife. A crooked smile crossed his face. “We’re gonna catch the devil.”

“With a knife?” I studied him dubiously. “I think it’ll take more than that.”

“Didn’t ask you, girly boy.” My face grew hot, and I gripped my flashlight like a weapon. “Why’s she here, anyway? She’s not really a boy.”

Gregory pushed his shoulder. “Leave Marcus alone. He’s fine.”

“Whatever.” John handed us each a knife. “We’ll spread out. Last one to chicken out wins.” As he walked off, John stomped on my foot, and I gritted my teeth. “See you, girly boy.” Barry just yawned and wandered off. It was rare he even ventured an opinion on anything the crew did, which was equal parts annoying and relieving.

I watched as his light vanished into the distance. Greg put his hand on my shoulder and sighed. “Sorry about him, May. He’s a jerk to everyone.” He smiled, then smacked his head. “I mean Marcus. Sorry.”

I shrugged and smiled. Greggory was by far the least dick-y of the group, so we actually got along pretty well. He put in a good word for me a while back, which is how I got into the crew in the first place. “It’s fine. But we should probably split up.” 

“Alright.” Gregory gulped, his flashlight illuminating the sweat on his forehead. “See you in the morning, then…” As he started off in John’s direction.

I moved my flashlight methodically across the tracks, scanning the area like a searchlight. It was dumb, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched. I tried to steady my breathing and tried to shake myself awake, but the alcohol hadn’t helped.

Why do I stay with these guys? I wondered, trying to distract myself, They’re just a bunch of jerks. Popular jerks, I reminded myself.

A twig snapped behind me, and I spun around, trying to catch it with my light. Nothing moved. I gripped the knife like a lifeline. “John, If this is you, I swear…” I heard a footstep behind me, and I whirled around, heart racing.

I wasn’t expecting the light to hit a stranger’s face. 

I screamed and dropped the flashlight. I heard a crack as the glass hit metal, and the light flickered out. I scrambled to the ground and grabbed it, desperately clicking the button in hopes it would illuminate.

“No need for that.” A silky voice reassured me. I whipped my head around in the darkness, unsure which direction it came from.

“Who’s there!? I’m not afraid of you!”

Suddenly, a flame lit up next to my feet. I jumped, as the tracks illuminated with crimson fire. Standing about five feet away from me was a man I had never seen. 

He was in his mid 40s from the looks of it. His hair was jet black, streaked with silver, and he wore a suit the color of blood. The man stood at least seven feet tall, and kept a rigid yet relaxed posture that made him seem taller. His eyes were a color somewhere between crimson and gold, a sort of amber, like that in my necklace, but deeper, brighter. Strangest of all, his pale skin seemed to fade to red, almost as if he were covered in blood.

“Marcus, right?” I opened my mouth to question him, but he silenced me. “How do I know your name? I know all about you. I know how your “friends” treat you. They’re not the only ones, are they?

I lifted my knife and lunged at him, ready to drive it into him. But before the blade could bury itself in the man’s flesh, a fist grabbed my forearm. I struggled against his grip, which was hard as stone, and squeezed my eyes closed, expecting him to strike me back. But he only stood there, face as rigid as a statue. 

The man’s face softened in pity. “I’m not here to judge you. Personally, I couldn’t care less. I’m not here to “claim your soul for your sins” or whatever nonsense they’ve told you. Nobody ever went to hell for who they are.” His face hardened into a wicked grin, and he released my hand. “No, I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t need help.” I felt my hands shake, and I tried to steady myself. “Not from you.”

The devil (he must have been, right? Jesus, what was in that beer?) laughed. “Nobody wants my help. But they always need it. What if you could stop the taunting? Make them pay?” My lungs tightened as if I’d forgotten how to breathe. Somewhere in the distance, a train horn called out.

The devil took me by the arm and led me off the tracks. “You could be popular. Respected. People would bow to you, look up to you, treat you like a lord. All you need is to make a deal with me.”

“Let me guess. My soul? I’ll pass.” I looked down the tracks, the light of the flames replaced by that of a train’s headlights.

“What is a soul really? Can you eat it? Sell it? Does it make you happy?” For a split second, a look of disgust crossed the devil’s face. “That’s all you humans care about nowadays. Being happy.”

The train came to a halt in front of us. Steam blew into my face as the door opened. The devil gestured for me to step on. “Board the train, and all your problems will go away. But this is your only chance.”

I looked around the tracks, hoping to see the distant glow of a flashlight, the sound of a voice. Nothing came. I stepped onto the train, and a warm glow washed over me. The door closed behind me, leaving the devil on the tracks.

The train car seemed empty, so I took a random seat. I sighed, looking out the window, any exhaustion now gone.

“First trip?” I jumped, my gaze falling on a seat a few rows away from me. 

“I didn’t see you there.” I said, my voice shaking. This man looked familiar, but I couldn’t place were from. “Where does this go?”

The man shook his head, greying hair falling against his face. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve been here a while. I think I got on on the 3rd? January 3rd, to be exact.”

My heart stopped. “What?” My voice seemed to echo too far. I did know this man. From the obituary. I saw his photo. My cousin saw his face. 

January third.

One month ago.

————————————————————————————————————————————

I pulled my hood over my head, shivering a bit. Couldn’t we have done this later in the year?

“Greg!?” A voice called out in the distance. I rolled my eyes. John.

“Gregory!? Greg, I’m serious!” He did seem kind of panicked…

“GREG!!!”

I sighed. “This better not be a trick…” I muttered, running toward his voice.

I followed his voice down the tracks until I came to a stop in a wooded section. “What’s the problem?” John stood there, shaking, staring at something in front of him. I followed, his gaze, and my blood ran cold.

Lying on the tracks was a bloody mess, crushed beyond recognition. Several crushed amber beads lay scattered across the tracks, spelling out a name:

M-A-R-C-U-S.

[we1come-to-swerves]

andd im back with sum more memes everyone B))

''the girls'' in question are, in fact, the lost light crew btw

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 76-79

Chapter 76

Andi has a nice little poetic nightmare. It’s irrelevant. The next morning has the girls preparing for the ball, complete with dresses and makeup.

Some things to note include Lira saying that in Adhiran religion (which is global, I guess), one has to mourn for three days before “letting” the souls of the dead pass on into ... everything.

Andi tries to say that it’ll take time to heal from it all, but Lira is having none of it.

“It will take time to move past what happened on Adhira,” Andi started, but Lira held up a hand.

“My three days of mourning have passed. Lon’s and my aunt’s, too. Now we, and the others who lost loved ones during the attack, must give the lost spirits to the stars, to the trees, to the wind.”

Which basically means that she’s done feeling bad about the unexpected and brutal attack on her home planet, so that’s convenient. Well, if one of our main characters doesn’t care about her people getting senselessly murdered, then why should we?

She also lets us know that her aunt has fixed up the Marauder and brought it here, because of course. Lira wants to arrange for Lon to be transferred to the Marauder, and though she has a logical reason for it (taking him home personally), it’s only a setup so we know why he’s on there at the end of the book when Andi’s bleeding out and needs a universal donor.

Spoilers, I guess.

Andi’s mother, Glorya, intercepts Andi as she tries to leave her crew to their makeover montages, just so we can move into a scene where her mom is brushing her hair and babbling on about gossip and vapid high society stuff.

But Andi, of course, gets lost in a flashback that’s so amateurishly written it’s honestly embarrassing and only highlights Shinsay’s helpless reliance on flashbacks as a storytelling device.

Observe:

Her words faded away as memories took their place. Andi lost herself to them.

The whole flashback is written in italics for some inexplicable reason, even though it would’ve been fine as just regular text since we’re clearly told what’s happening now and what’s a memory.

Also, there’s one bit where the memory “fast-forwards” to a different one. Shinsay, this isn’t a fucking movie. This isn’t a screenplay. What the fuck are you DOING.

The flashback and the mother’s inane babbling are all there to illustrate how vapid and brainless Glorya is and how she only ever cared about her status and not about her kid. Glorya pretends that everything is back to the way it was but Andi curses her out for abandoning her when she needed them most and how “the way it was” was actually always shit.

I mean it’s fine. It’s all right. I see what they’re going for, it’s melodramatic as all fuck but it works for what they’re trying to do? I can see this as being a realistic way for an emotionally neglectful family to look like. I wish it was more nuanced and wasn’t just shoe-horned in here (Glorya doesn’t show up before or after this bit, this is the only time she’s ever present or even mentioned in this book in any meaningful capacity) for the sake of making Andi’s friends look better and for her to not have anything that anchors her to Arcardius, but like, I won’t say this isn’t realistic.

And then Shinsay can’t stop themselves and it’s back to silly time:

“Really, Androma...” 

[...]

“That is not my name,” Andi whispered. She allowed the darkness to come up into her voice, the mask of shadow and steel to sweep across her face. “My name is the Bloody Baroness. And if you or Commander Racella ever so much as utter a single word toward me or my crew again, I will personally strip the skin from your body and wave it like a flag from my starship.”

Glorya let out a soft squeak. Andi snarled with all of her teeth.

Guys I can’t breathe this is too fucking funny. And not in a good “woo vindication!” sort of way, but in a “they really put this right after an emotional confrontation about parental emotional neglect/abuse huh?” way. They really thought this was ... badass? Revenge? Andi, sweetie, you’re, like, traumatized? Presumably? I can’t really tell. But maybe get some therapy?

Do Shinsay think this is somehow a win and that Andi’s threat means she’s fully released from the hurt and pain her parents have caused her through their neglect? It’s honestly written as if Andi just confronted her mother and her own hopes of coming back to her family in this one short scene, and then upon realizing her parents never loved her, she scares her mom a little and then is all smug and satisfied at the end.

That ain’t how it works, darlings.

Then the annoying Marketable Space Pet runs in and starts biting Glorya’s toes and she runs away shrieking like a defeated Disney villain.

Way to undercut your own drama, Shinsay.

The chapter ends with Andi thinking about how her crew is her True Family for the bajillionth time. Because we’re all idiots and Shinsay wants us to remember that.

Chapter 77

It’s the evening of the ball and Andi thinks about how she missed Bavista, which is apparently your generic coming-of-age ball held at Arcardius for every 16-year-old. I’m guessing it’s a yearly thing? The book never clarifies. Not sure why the fuck it’s here tbh.

Actually, it’s a pretty good demonstration of how the worldbuilding in this book is presented so here, have at thee:

She could still remember seeing the otherworldly dresses and suits float by her on the feeds as she watched the girls and boys glide into the A’Vianna House in the Glass Sector. They seemed light as air, full of pride, bursting at the seams with excitement. Once inside, they would be greeted by members of the Priest Guild, who would award each young person three items.

The first was a vial of water from the Northern Ocean, symbolizing strength. For growth, they accepted a single leaf from the oldest tree on Arcardius, known as The Mother, which was said to have been planted when the Ancients first arrived. Lastly, they were given a single floating pebble, no larger than a child’s fingernail, chiseled from the very gravarock where the Cortas estate was. It represented the wisdom of rising above.

Is this relevant to anything? Does this help you understand this world or its inhabitants? Does it tell you anything of the culture of Arcardius or its youth and what’s expected of them? No? It’s just a really generic list of things thrown together using Mystical Proper Nouns as glue? Weeell heeell.

Also what does “it represented the wisdom of rising above” mean? This is utterly generic and means fuck-all, that’s what.

Anyway, Andi’s admiring herself in the mirror. Her dress is very sexy, trust me, I can’t be bothered to include it so just imagine your favorite My Immortal outfit description. It does include sword holsters at the back, which are Andi’s favorite part, because she’s a strong independent woman who don’t need no man. She never actually uses them or brings the swords to the ball so ... Idk what the point of this was.

We also get some shit about how Andi actually LOVES dresses and being pretty but she never admitted it to anyone. But don’t you worry, this badass space criminal LOVES all things girly, because that’s feminism! Can someone check in on Shinsay? I’m not sure they’re getting enough air with their heads so far up Sarah J Maas’ asshole.

Admitting to herself that she looked pretty was something Andi kept private. She didn’t want to give her crew the satisfaction of knowing her true thoughts about fashion. How even though she was a fierce, hardened criminal, she could still appreciate the joy of a beautiful, impractical ball gown.

Huh. And here I thought they were your family. That’s weird that you’d keep this information from them, especially considering all of them seemed pretty excited to be prettied up in the last chapter. I guess they’d really just haaate the idea of sharing this joy with their captain, huh? Why aren’t you admitting this to them, Andi?

You’re saying shit about how “even though” you’re a hardened criminal, you can “still” appreciate beautiful gowns, like those two are somehow contradictory. Are you, mayhaps, ashamed of having this traditionally girly interest? Hmm! Interesting. Why could that be, I wonder? Why would having traditionally feminine interests or even caring about one’s appearance be seen as something inherently shameful or embarrassing, as inherently contradictory to being fierce and “hardened?”

This is all just so *clenches fist* feminist.

Forreal though, somehow Shinsay managed to take their entire made up GALAXY and make it subtly and not-so-subtly sexist. Good job, morons. Really girlbossed that one, huh?

The only bit I like about this whole mess is this:

The dressmaker had also accented her gown with a sparkling necklace full of jewels that Andi didn’t plan on giving back.

This is the one and only space pirate-y thing Andi does -- sorry, considers doing -- in the whole book and honestly could’ve been used to build her character more, but it’s just a one-off joke here. Wasted.

Valen comes to fetch her and we get some subtle foreshadowing.

“Valen the Resurrected.”

He stopped to look at her, brows raised. “What?”

She shrugged. “It’s what the press is calling you in all the feeds.” Valen let out a deep chuckle.

[...]

“Something tells me things are about to change for the better,” he said. “I’m ready to see it all happen.”

Andi wondered what he would do now that he was home with a whole planet at his disposal.

He deserved to have some fun.

Is it bad that I’m rooting for Valen to destroy everything? And this isn’t my villain-fucker coming out, I just want this poor bastard to absolutely annihilate Andi and her gang of acolytes.

Chapter 78

Andi and Valen arrive at the ball. It’s all very pretty and space-y and aesthetic. There’s a bunch of aliens everywhere. Andi sees a woman with funky eyes and assumes it’s a body mod, because I guess she knows the genetic characteristics of every species by heart and can tell when something is real or not.

An old classmate of theirs comes up to talk to Valen and congratulate him on being alive, then Andi reminds him of who she is just to be a smug asshole and the guy fucks off in a panic. She’s just so cool and badass, you guys.

Then it’s time for Valen and Andi to dance, and of course General Cortas looks like he’s about to lose his marbles because these darn kids! >:(

The chapter ends on Andi noticing Dex pouting in the distance.

“Relax,” Andi whispered. “Let’s give them something to talk about.”

She flashed him a wicked grin as the music began.

And as Valen spun her into the first move of the dance, Andi saw Dex standing on the fringes of the crowd, an expression of longing clear on his face.

Chapter 79

This chapter is exactly 298 words of Dex moping around about how he’s actually not over Andi at all when he thought he’d done such a good job of repressing his feelings, and how he should be the one dancing with Andi instead of Valen. If you’re surprised, you’re clinically dead.

[welcometomy20s]

February 8, 2021

Welcome to the final part of the Introduction of Nijisanji. Thanks for going through all of them, if you did. It was pain to work with so much and so little. This part would cover everyone who has debuted in the year 2020.

Nijisanji IN 1st Gen

Aadya - The name means beautiful. 21 year old, who likes to play games and sing. Does dancing as a day job, so acts as a gaming nightingale. She has a knack for games in my cursory view, but that might be just the competitiveness.

Vihaan - The name means breaking dawn, kind of. Likes gaming very much, and plays them very loudly and complaining... which to be expected from this crew.

Noor - The name means light. Likes BL, coffee and beer, BL to the point she learned chinese from watching a BL drama. Basically a middle-aged man at heart, including a very nice husky voice. Does talks and games. Sings randomly and looks up to Rion, of all people. Ange mentioned her, Ange likes to mention foreign people.

Nijisanji KR 1st Gen

Min Suha - Knows the culture through their parents and has a nice voice. Sister Claire likes him, and who doesn’t? He’s freaking cool, man!

Shin Yuya - College student in virtual Seoul. Always has a smartphone at hand, does self-searching on a constant basis. Definitely has otaku knowledge, likes singing, drawing and cute things. Doesn’t like horror games, but played a lot on stream.

Plays a lot of different games, including FPS like Apex, and this is where she gets to collaborate with Japanese senpais, which is always fun to see.

Gaon - Originally Moarin’s brother, but Moarin left, so the lore changed. Has a twintail for attention purposes. Only member of Nijisanji KR to work as a job, but quit as the end of 2020. He’s pretty cool. Not nice, but definitely not a mean person either.

Han Chiho - He’s a time-displaced psychic, and so speaks with a high register. High register is usually seen as old, people don’t use it anymore, but it’s usually perfectly understandable... it’s an interesting quirk. Other than that, pretty normal streamer.

2020 Part 1 (Jan-Apr)

Furen E Lustario - During debut, expressed a liking choking oneself... so we know who we are dealing with. Has to add using fingers, as to illustrate her math prowess. But overall a fun person to watch, and has a pretty good variety of streams.

Melissa Kinrenka - Wants to be a songwriter, but still needs help. But she is a great singer, and can write and mix songs. Usually called Meli. Has a deep side, basically.

Ibrahim - Originally an oil prince, but now runs an onsen. Acts like a child at times due to his supposed past, and he is muslim, as the lore and name implies. But overall, fits right in with the child-like male of Nijisanji... kind of.

Nagao Kei - He’s an exorcist, but really does any job. Pretty good at all kinds of fighting. Pretty old in terms of human member at the age 26. Very much like Ibrahim, but much more bishonen, which melts a woman's heart. Oh, he’s good at learning stuff. Like he tries to learn morse code, and completely memorized the KTANE manual. Just to make Fumi, one of his seniors, happy for a while. That’s some big dedication.

Genzuki Tojiro - Works as a secretary for the gods. Has that unmatching haircut. Very good at making songs and does mixing for Nijisanji events.

Kaida Haru - A demon researcher, but too lazy. Quiet and nice voice leading the viewer to see him as a mother figure, but as you guess, he doesn’t like it due to the work. Oh, said a slur on stream but got banned less than Yumeoi, which is quite sus.

Nijisanji ID Gen 3

Azura Cecillia - An alien angel. Has a sword with a really long name, but calls it Chonsuke for short. She’s pretty cute and a little bit ditzy, from what I remember. Got mistaken as a boy, which is such an odd thing, but maybe it’s the deep voice?

Nara Haramaung - A princess of a tribe. Originally released as part of 1st gen, but got delayed here, but the gen mates fit together very well. Sings spontaneously sometimes.

Layla Alstroemeria - Time-traveling history major. Definitely more airheaded of the group and most child-like of the generation. But she’s pretty fun to watch, regardless.

Nijisanji KR Gen 2

So Nagi - Traveling virtual Japan, speaking fluent Japanese with a nice clear voice. Likes Ange Katrina, which she readily repriocates. Seen as the top seed in Nijisanji KR.

Lee Siu - A female kitsune, and yes from the same illustrator as Fubuki. Likes dad jokes and an endurance player and does speak three languages. Roha likes her. Occasionally can hear the apartment announcement, which is always a fun moment.

Chae Ara - She’s an angel, and a great singer. And likes to people-watch. Has a cute voice, and good at hosting. I really liked her in the streams that I watched. There’s something about her personality that speaks to me.

2020 Part 2 (May-August)

Sorahoshi Kirame - Made her name through twitter, and traded fan art with KR members. Has the same illustrator as Kanata. Couldn’t stream due to money purposes for four days, got his PC after a month of hard work. Overall a poor and diligent girl.

Asahina Akane - 1st year high-schooler. Very energetic and follow people well. Likes a Jpop band, and likes to travel as well. Also does a lot of collabs with senpais.

Suo Sango - The youngest member of the theater club, which is the theme of the latest generation. Has a wide range, and likes Sanrio and tomato. Very motherly calm voice.

Like girly anime, you know Pretty Cure and stuff. Likes western pop music as well.

Todo Kohaku - Third-year high schooler. Said she’s a lady, but she’s definitely just a normal girl. Had a good cover of Mela, and overall a decent streamer.

Kitakoji Hisui - Middle-school transfer student. Likes a lot of different things, but Minecraft is what she is most known for... I guess it makes sense.

Nishizono Chigusa - She’s the troublesome one of the theater group. Very frequently makes sexual quips. Also I thought she was a boy when I first saw her. Definitely my favorite of the newest group, and also did a stream with Matsuri as well.

And that actually has a history. You see this is not Chigusa’s first rodeo... as it is apparent, and during her previous life Matsuri and her did a sleepover, and was quite close as well... so this is actually a really nice reunion. I didn’t know that until now.

Nijisanji KR 3rd Gen

Nun Bora - A second-year high schooler, likes drawing and playing the recorder which she has a battle with So Nagi. Quick learner, apparently. Plays APEX and Fall Guys, but is competent in pretty much any game. Definitely top tier APEX player.

Akina Ray - Japanese streamer who streams in virtual Seoul. Does a morning talk show, likes baseball, since she’s from Hiroshima, and Shadowverse. She’s actually an art student and a meat lover. But overall, the most seiso art student of Nijisanji.

Lee Roha - Idol trainee from outer space, a mixed race. A bit of a ditz, with the appropriate thumbnails. Streams in Japanese on YouTube, in Korean on Twitch. Does a lot of League of Legend on twitch, and does evening piano stream. Likes Lee Siu.

Nijisanji ID 4th Gen

Etna Crimson - Half supernatural, likes to make everyone happy. Definitely not Amber from Genshin Impact, because Amber is Kizuna Ai. Okay, bad joke. Yeah, she’s good.

Bonnivier Pranaja - Originally a fisher, but quit after being swindled. Usually appears with KR streams, actually. Maybe likes Hana? Who knows.

Siska Leontyne - Security officer for shady company. Pretty good at games involving killing... make sense considering her profession. Pretty cool and laid-back.

Nijisanji KR 4th Gen

Ryu Hari - Likes to collect nightmares, likes reading and playing the electric guitar.

Shin Kiru - A 25-year old NEET, has an odd way of speaking and strange topics. Likes Rock and horror movies. He seems pretty laid-back as well.

Yang Nari - 19-year old girl from a different world who now lives in the countryside. Pretty good at hosting with her cute voice. Likes sewing, and talks in high status. She has a thing of suffering, and that kind of comes out from lore.

Oh Jiyu - She’s a female vtuber, although she looks and sounds boyish. Third-year college student representative. Speaks Korean and Japanese, and like gacha and also singing... so maybe a boyish Suisei? I’m sure she’s more normal, though.

Nijisanji ID 5th Gen

Nagisa Arcinia - Wannabe fashion designer, speaks a bunch of languages... but that’s normal for ID... yeah, she’s cute and might be a little psychopathic. Typical.

Derem Kado - 16 year old girl going to magical school, always looking for a cat, but a special cat that makes contracts and stuff. High pitched scares and gets lost.

Reza Avanluna - He’s a world chronicler, he visits and chronicles worlds in his dreams. Has a ship going on with Hana, I think? I’m not sure. Please correct this, if untrue.

There you go! All 139 extant members as of February 8th, 2021, which is the third anniversary of Nijisanji... that was a long post... even though it was in three parts. Sorry for filling the days with this... I have been busy with collecting data and so on. But I hope you have a good inkling of the landscape that is Nijisanji.

[journal-of-an-outlaw]

Price to be Paid - Chapter 31

Wahoo my favorite chapter, read on AO3

The bliss from your wedding could only last so long, and you knew that, but it didn’t lessen the blow when things had to return to normal. 

“This is it, Dutch, our last big score!”

Hosea had poured over a map of Saint Denis for days mapping every possible route into the bank, the job Dutch claimed over and over was going to save the gang. 

“I’m telling you, this is the way to do the job. The best way! The distraction will buy you all the time you need.”

Arthur groaned from underneath you. You had fallen asleep in the morning sun and the voices from downstairs carried far too much for your liking, waking you up to the harsh light of day. 

“All they talk about lately is that damn job,” Arthur muttered. “If I heard ‘Saint Denis bank’ one more time I am going to lose it.”

“Arthur!” Dutch yelled from the bottom of the stairs. “Get down here, we need your help with this.”

The past few weeks since your wedding had been as blissful as they could when you lived with a large group of people on the run from the law. You and Arthur had enjoyed many free days where no one asked a thing of you. The lake was the perfect spot for picnics and more than once Arthur had suggested you slip away and relax at the water side. It was perfect and everything you could hope it would be.

But all good things had to end. 

“I’m coming! Arthur hollered back. He groaned as he sat up and you decided it was best to greet the day as well. 

“You know they trust you, that’s what they’re trying to say,” you spoke as you dressed. 

“They sure have a strange way of showing it.”

You were quick to follow Arthur down the stairs, greeting folks as they passed. Most were still rubbing the sleep from their eyes or drinking a cup of coffee. 

“I...I don’t like it.”

Dutch’s hesitation was palpable. For days he had been telling Hosea something about this job felt off, his intuition saying this was not the way. It struck you as odd because Dutch had been searching for one more score, one big was out and when presented with the idea he shrugged it off. 

You leaned against the doorframe watching Arthur approach the bickering old men. They went back and forth, agreeing and disagreeing about the best way to proceed. 

“It’s the right plan. We’ve done the work. I’ve been in town, looking, watching and waiting. I’ve tested it as well as I can. It’s the right plan.”

“I know,” Dutch chucked at how worked up Hosea had become. “I know. But between us, I’m...nervous. I suppose that’s it.”

Hosea placed a hand on Dutch’s shoulder and squeezed. “You’re never nervous, that’s been my job all these years.”

It was clear Hosea was leading this robbery. He had timed the whole operation out and wanted it to move like clockwork, each cog and arm greased up and ready to go. You could see a younger man shining through; one who spent days and weeks putting heists together, using each member of the gang in s specific sequence so everything would be just right. 

As the three men got to talking, Micah walked in and watched behind you. It was unpleasant to have him over your shoulder but you remembered your vow to keep the peace with him as best you could.

“What’re they planning in there?”

“Bank job. Last one to get us out of here,” you responded softly. 

“The big bank? In Saint Denis?” Micah scoffed. “That’s one lofty goal for our ragtag crew, don’t you think?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, Hosea has it all planned out. What could go wrong?”

“Oh, girlie, there’s plenty could go wrong. But let’s hope none of it does and we make out on top.” Micah shot you a wink that made you shutter and walked back out the front doors, taking off for somewhere or something in town. 

“Every plan is a good plan if we execute it properly. Every problem we ever had was because we did not execute properly.”

Hosea spoke impassioned. He needed Dutch to see he was right. 

“You’re right.” Dutch stood dramatically and looked between his lifelong partners in crime. “Let’s rob this bastard. We’ll leave tomorrow morning. Look smart. Travel light.” 

The leader passed you with a half smile before going to track down Mrs. Grimshaw and Pearson to tell them of the new plan. At least we had some notice this time and didn’t have to throw everything around in a hurry. 

Arthur asked you to help clean the room and you packed together, chatting to keep the nerves away. There had been a moment where he wanted you to go with Hosea and stay away from the action but you refused; if your husband was going in so were you. He didn’t fight you on that very long. 

The thought of leaving Shady Belle filled you with melancholy. It was strange to think that one building could hold so many memories from just a short time. The gang really hadn’t been there that long but they had managed to make a lasting impact that could be seen as you walked the halls for one of the last times. You had to look forward; things would be better. How much more suffering and pain could one group take?

You found Abigail playing outside with Jack later in the evening, staring up at the night sky and admiring the stars. You plopped down next to her and tilted your own head back, thinking about the heavens. 

“You ever wonder if our destinies are planned?”

“I sure hope not. To think that someone put all of this together for us means we have no free will, no choice would be our own. And they would put us through all that pain!”

“Sometimes...I guess it’s just nice to think that I wasn’t the one who made all the mistakes in my life. That I could blame someone else for the way things turned out.”

Abigail spoke in hushed tones but never looked down from the sky. Her words echoed in your mind. 

“Your life isn’t full of mistakes, it’s full of love.”

“Yeah,” she snorted. “Sometimes a bit too much love if you know what I mean.”

She and John had been fighting again. From your shared room with Arthur you could hear them through the walls going on about raising Jack and trying to show him a better life. 

“Jack will be just fine, he’s got a lot of us who care. And so will you. You know I’ll never leave, you’ve got a friend for life.” You wrapped your arm around her shoulders and sat like that, enjoying the view and marveling at the size of the world around you. 

It was hard to sleep that night. 

You tossed and turned with anticipation of the next day, knowing everything would be different after the sun rose up in the sky. It could be a good change; like fire burning away the underbrush to allow for new life. Or it could be disastrous. 

The dichotomy of the choices made you restless. 

Arthur shook your shoulder gently that it was time to go. It was much too early, and the terrible night of sleep made it hard to drag your body from the warm bed and you tossed it a sad smile knowing it was the last time you would see the room you called home. 

The look on your face must have told Arthur something for he gave your hand a squeeze after you met him at the bottom of the stairs. 

“You know what?” He looked at you softly. “At the end of today, we’re going to look back and know we did everything right. We faced the day together as wife and husband. I’m never letting you go.”

With a kiss to your hand you felt your confidence rise back into place. All it needed was a boost from Arthur. Today was going to go smoothly, nothing could bring you down from the high of life you were riding. 

Everyone was dressed to the nines. Fine black suits with hats for the men, and clean flowing gowns adorned every woman. It was almost as if you were headed to a Sunday mass instead of a bank robbery. Even Jack had found a flower to stick in his coat pocket. 

“You got everything Arthur?” Dutch called as he handed Hosea a suitcase to load into a wagon. 

Arthur nodded. “Sure, house is cleared out of everything we could grab.”

“Just think!” Hosea spoke up brightly. “Within six weeks we’ll be living life anew in a tropical idyll spending the last of our days as banana farmers?”

The plan was for Hosea and Abigail to serve as the distraction. On their wagon sat crates of dynamite that when lit, would bring enough police attention that the robbery in town wouldn’t be able to pull them all away, giving the group enough time to slip out unnoticed. Hosea had looked over the details for days on end and everyone trusted him to know this plan backwards and forwards, no small part missed. 

You were riding in and acting with the robbery. At first, Arthur had asked that you go with Hosea and Abigail for they were far less likely to be caught. But to you that was out of the question. Now that you and Arthur were married you didn’t want him running off into battle alone, something you had to repeat over and over before Hosea finally relented and added you to the bank detail. It just made sense that you would be there. 

With your nerves shoved to the back of your mind, you sat next to Arthur on Eclipse as Zues stamped his feet anxiously.  

“Let’s get out of this god forsaken place and go rob ourselves a bank!”

A chorus of cheers rang out as the gang envisioned what life could be like after today. No more running and hiding, no more threats from the law, no more being told that their way of life was wrong or backwards, just freedom and the incredible feeling of hot sand between your toes. 

You were more than ready to be out of this place. 

Micah led the group up and out of Shady Belle, the horses moving much quicker than the wagons. It was slightly comical to watch a large group in impressive threads leave such a ratty and worn down home. Over the past few weeks you decided firmly that sleeping with four walls around you was a comfort you preferred. 

“This is it, ladies and gentlemen! The last one.”

Dutch was gearing up for a big speech as he rode behind Micah. 

“Where have we heard that one before?” John asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

“What has happened to you, John? You lost all your heart.”

“I’m just trying to stay real about all of this.”

“Real!” Dutch spit. “Oh how I detest that word. So devoid of imagination.”

The group rode over the railroad tracks and your heartbeat started to pick up. This was real, you were taking part in a bank robbery. Oh if only your father could see you now. The lawman’s rebel daughter. 

“How soon are we shipping out?” Micah called from somewhere ahead. 

Dutch replied, “As soon as we get the passage organized. A boat down to Argentina, then another around the cape.”

“What about the money in Blackwater? We’re just gonna leave that behind?”

“Forget that, it's gone.” Dutch swiped a fly and the question away. “You all talk like it’s the only goddamned money in the world. We’re gonna take that and more, take it from the people who take it from us. This isn’t some hick town, hundred dollar operation. This is a big city bank!”

“Right,” John broke in. “With security, guards, police.”

“Hosea has done his reconnaissance,  we’ve been over this.” Dutch almost sounded tired. “The plan. One last time. Hosea and Abigail will draw out the police, we go in fast and calm. John and Lenny, secure the front doors. Javier takes the side exit. Bill, Micah, YN, and Charles, control the crowd. Me and Arthur deal with the bank manager and the vault. Got it?”

Everyone agreed that they did. Most of the other women were leaving with the camp supplies and not participating, and the look Dutch gave you was not lost as he took in his crew. 

Hosea reckoned they needed about fifteen minutes to set the distraction with Abigail and pull enough police and that sounded fine by Dutch. As the others rode off with the wagons, Sadie threw you a smile of encouragement and you spurred Eclipse on to keep up with the others. Nothing, not even your nerves, would hold you back from this job. 

Arthur had talked about when to tell Dutch that maybe sailing to another part of the world was not in the cards for you two, but it still hadn’t come up. Before the bank job seemed a poor choice as it would only take away Dutch’s focus, so tentatively the plan was set for later. There was a lot to think about lately and that was just another worry to add to the pile. 

“Everybody know the drill! We head in hard and stay calm. They won’t be expecting us. Any minor trouble, head back to camp. We’ll leave in a few days.”

Your nerves must have really been showing through as even Micah threw you a half grin. It wasn’t pleasant, but you accepted it nonetheless. 

Bill and Charles rode ahead to break up the group, hoping that it wouldn't look like a giant posse riding in together. The five of you left held back a few minutes and then rode into town, through the gates of Saint Denis and into the belly of the beast. You couldn't tell if your shaking hands had more to do with being on horseback or the impending mission, but you steeled them to stay still as you moved through the streets. 

Arthur pulled Zeus back and rode next to you. 

“How’re you doing?” 

Despite the bundle of nerves moving through your veins you had to smile. Arthur was clearly a bit worked up about the whole thing too; his words had a slight twang to them as he spoke. 

“Oh, I’m fine. I remember what you taught me. Just…” you looked around and remembered the first time you marveled at Saint Denis. “What if something happens?”

“It won’t, I promise you’ll be safe. Hosea went over this so many times he knew we had to get it right.”

You nodded. You had heard him mumbling the details for days.

Before you could respond your destination came into view and your mouth went dry. Lemoyne National Bank. The imposing building stood nearly three stories high with gold and white paint covering the exterior. The sun beating down was hot and you wiped beads of sweat off your brow after hitching Eclipse up next to Arthur and Bill. 

Charles made his way over. “Just wanted to say good luck. I know you’ll be fine, but...you know.” 

You smiled at your friend. His words brought you comfort even though they were minimal, but knowing Charles this was the equivalent of a long speech. You patted his arm in thanks and followed the group over to Dutch. 

“Foks. Robbing thieves, it ain’t no crime at all. People like this...they stole what this country could have been.” The men grunted in agreeance. “Now, act natural. Wait for Hosea to do his thing.”

As a trolley rolled slowly in front of you Arthur took your hand in his. 

“Now, it ain’t too late and no one would say a thing if you decided to leave. I’ll put you on this trolley and collect you myself as soon as we’re done and we can leave; put this city behind us and head off to freedom. You just have to say the word.”

You searched Arthur’s eyes and saw nothing but love and worry. The beautiful way the blue and green and maybe in the right light grey mixed together filled you with happiness and you knew your answer before speaking. On your tiptoes, you pressed a kiss to Arthur’s cheek and beamed at him. 

“You know I’m staying. I’ll be right at your side.”

Just as Arthur opened his mouth to speak the ground shook violently below you. You grabbed Arthur’s arm for support as the screams and voices rose through the city. 

Dutch let out a full laugh. “I love that Hosea! He’s a true artist.”

And with that, he led the way across the road and into Lemoyne National Bank. 

You pulled your mask up over your face, hands still slightly shaking. Javier whispered something before slipping around the corner to guard the side door, and on his signal Dutch burst through the bank doors, pistols drawn. 

“Ladies and gentlemen! This is a hold up.”

The room was filled with screams and the bustling of shoes on the tile as you aimed your gun at the innocent folks going about their day, corralling them back into an office to be locked up and unable to disrupt the robbery in progress. Bill was stuck with a particularly loud customer, so you poked the end of your gun into his back to shut him up, shoving him into the room. You got a grunt of thanks from Bill as he locked the doors. 

“Arthur! We have found the manager. Would you kindly have him open the vault?” 

A man dressed in a long purple coat shook like a leaf as he twisted and turned the dial to find the correct combination. He looked around the room for any willing pair of eyes but no one was able to help, simply sneered as he pleaded silently with Arthur’s gun only inches away from his face. 

The air was tense around you as John and the others patrolled the entryway. All of them were on the lookout for anything suspicious outside, any sign that this wasn’t going to work. But it had to. It simply had to; this was much too large of a show to go off with a hitch. 

A loud scraping sound resonated as the vault door creaked open with the poor bank manager pulling as hard as he could. Arthur cast you a look before heading in, his brow filled with worry to get this over with as soon as possible. You sent him a small smile, hoping he could read it under your bandana, and nodded for him to go on. 

Anxiety pumped through you. The bank manager stood outside and at Bill’s command called out the combination, his legs shaking from the stress. The seconds ticking away felt like hours and you wanted nothing more than to run away from all of this mess. 

“We got trouble! Looks like the law.”

Your head whipped around at John’s yell. His voice was tense and Dutch ran over to get a good look at the situation with anger and fear in his eyes. The others were quickly behind him. 

Everyone knew this operation had to be executed precisely. Anything short of perfection would mean failure and a real risk of death. With Hosea’s attention to detail and the way everyone knew their part Dutch had been confident this would go off without any problems. He already felt the warm, island air rustling through his hair, the grainy, hot sand beneath his feet, and the sweet, sticky mango juice bursting in his mouth. This was going to work. This had to work. Because if it didn’t, there was no way out. 

Unfortunately Dutch didn’t count on your father. 

“Come out! It’s over!” 

No, no, no, no. Not him, not now. Your heart pounded in your chest so hard you were sure the others heard it, and at the same time your stomach dropped down to your feet. How on Earth had he found you?

John said something about Abigail but a rushing sound filled your ears and you couldn’t make it out. Everyone had pressed themselves up against the wall in cover and you did the same, hoping you would be able to act when it came down to it. 

“Dutch! Get out here. Get out here now!”

A silence fell over the bank. Agent Milton walked out from behind a wagon across the street brandishing a pistol that was shoved into the back of Hosea’s head. Dutch let out a groan. 

“Someone must have squealed!” 

“We never should have gone after Bronte, Dutch,” John spat. His eyes were on the mother of his child just beyond his reach. 

“Mr. Milton?” Dutch’s voice lost its usual silk and instead was filled with fear, cracking slightly. “Let my friend go. Or folks are gonna get shot unnecessarily.”

“Your friend? Why would I do that?” Your father’s voice was loud and full of confidence. It sent slivers of fear through your spine as your mind raced. 

“C’mon, Milton!”

“It’s over! No more bargains, no more deals.”

“Mr. Milton, this is America. You can always cut a deal.” 

He was reaching his finale. Your father always loved making a show of capturing ‘the bad guys’ and you knew from his stance that you were running low on time. If someone didn’t do something Hosea would be dead, the rest of you following shortly. 

“Hey girly, remember way back when you and I made a deal?” Micah was standing much too close to your back for comfort and in your agitated state you tried to shake him off. This only made him mad and he grabbed your arm tightly in his grip. “You owe me, I’m cashing in. Only one way this thing and it’s with you outside of those doors while we escape.”

“What?” you asked, your mind racing and unable to comprehend his request.

“Daddy Dearest is out there about to blow us all to hell. We need a distraction and you are the golden ticket.”

You froze. Micah was asking, no, telling you to sacrifice yourself on the slim chance your father wouldn't kill you on sight. It was insanely risky, but it would give the gang and the people you had grown to love a chance, albeit slim, to get away safely. All around you were the tense faces of people who had time and time again proven they were good and loving, more than you could ever say for your own father who stood on the other side of the street with the power of the law behind him. In a way, you felt this had always been coming. Rushing towards you like a train in the night. Eventually it would have to reach its destination. Your hands shook as you realized that this might be the only plan, and you couldn’t risk the chance of your newfound family dying because you weren’t brave enough. Your father wouldn't listen to anyone else and as the seconds melted away you steeled yourself against the tide that would surely try and knock you over. 

“Well?” Micah shook you impatiently. 

You looked around. Dutch, Bill, Lenny, John, Javier...Arthur. These were people you would gladly sacrifice yourself for. Memories came flooding back of sitting around the campfire singing, hours spent in the fields hunting, and the times you and Abigail laughed yourselves silly. Your eyes watered at the thought of leaving, but it had to be done. 

“I’ll do it,” you spoke quietly. “But I have one request.”

“And what’s that?” 

Micah had started making his way to the door and Arthur, noticing you moving about, was heading towards you too. You met his eyes for a moment and you swore he knew what you were about to do. His footsteps picked up and you had to act. 

Leaving him was of course the hardest. Never had you imagined a love so brilliant and bright, and knowing that you were willingly throwing it all away tore you apart. The ring on your finger felt heavy with guilt but you clutched your gun tighter until Micah tore it from your hands. Arthur opened his mouth to whisper something and you knew waiting would make it worse. 

“Tell Arthur I love him.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” Micah snorted and unceremoniously shoved you outside the giant bank doors before slamming them shut. Something on the other side slammed against them and you guessed it was Arthur, livid at the unexplained sight. A voice yelled something and then everything went quiet, and you looked up at the scene before you. 

Hosea stood in the middle of the street covered in dust and watching you with worried eyes. He shook his head slightly, telling you to leave, but you cast him a watery smile of reassurance. 

Behind him every gun held by the Pinkerton Detective agents was trained on you and ready to fire. You looked up and down the line realizing just how many there were. This had to be a set up, no one was ready that fast. 

A strangled cry that turned into a laugh came from the head Detective. He took a faltering step forward, then looked at you with utter bewilderment. 

“Put your guns down,” he said. The detectives looked over at him confused. “I said put them down!”

“Sir?” questioned one of the men to his side. 

“Because…” Agent Milton spoke slowly, still trying to process the change in events unfolding before him. 

You placed both hands up in the air and spoke with much more confidence than you felt. 

“Because I’m his daughter.” You looked directly at him, taking a deep breath before saying, “Hello, Father. Good to see you.”

[johnnysnostril]

Lights Out

Chapter Five

I groaned, feeling like my face was completely swollen. All I could hear around me, was beeping and light chatter. I couldn’t understand what was being said though. Squeezing my eyes tightly, I tried moving my body a little. Feeling pain shooting up my legs and back, I winced and ripped my eyes open. Looking up, I noticed a white ceiling. It smelt really clean and the air was almost as fresh as water. In the process of trying to sit up, I ripped a few chords from their machines.

I was in the hospital, although I couldn't remember how I got here.

“Zoey?” I called out. My voice was hoarse and my throat was so itchy. “Oh honey, don’t move.” 

A nurse came walking in and gently pushed me back down on the bed, hooking my chords back up to the machine. “Everything is alright, just relax and try not to move so much.” I immediately started crying as I thought about Sapphire. “Where are my sisters?” I could feel the tears running down my face as I looked around the room for them.

Junwon’s POV

Looking past the curtains, I glanced out towards the crowd of people. I was actually surprised at how many people decided to show up. Oddly enough, I didn't see Hazel. She was never late and the show was about to start. Pushing the curtain closed, I threw my head back and sighed. I was never nervous, but the fact that Hazel wasn’t here, made me feel that way now. 

“Come on, Haze. pick up.” I mumbled as I listened to her dial tone. Nothing. I tried again but, same result. 

“My man, Ph-1!”

Quickly turning around, I spotted Mr. Jay Park, himself. My mouth hung open a little and I smiled. “What the hell.” I laughed. “You didn’t think I was going to miss this, did you?” we gave each other a quick handshake. “How did you know i was performing tonight?” I asked.

“I stalked your instagram dude. It was actually everywhere on my feed. A few people sent it to me and told me to come and check you out. I'm here with my team.” Jay turned around and pointed to about ten people standing behind him. “Okay, so you roll deep?”

I was shocked that he was here. We talked a few times via dm on instagram and he did say that he liked my music, but I didn't actually think that we would meet in person.

“I wanna run a few things by you tonight.” he said with a huge smile on his face. “It’s an offer you can’t refuse man.”

Hazel’s POV

Laying on my side, I curled into a ball as best as I could. All I wanted was Junwon. 

“Hazel?” I heard Zoey’s voice. I shot my gaze to the entrance of my room and there she stood along side with Sapphire, in hospital gowns. I immediately started crying.

“I’m so happy you guys are okay.” Sitting up slowly, I stood to my feet and opened my arms. They both ran over to me and gently hugged me.

“I’m so sorry..” Zoey mumbled.

“Don’t be. This wasn’t your fault, Zoe.”

She cried on my shoulder before pulling away. “I shouldn’t have drove in the first place.

Sapphire wrapped her arm around my sisters shoulder. “Stop beating yourself up over this. we’re all fine and everything's okay.”

“How are you guys?” I asked sitting back down on the bed.

“Just a sprained wrist, thank god.” Sapphire announced with a soft chuckle. Zoey nodded. “Just a few bruises, but i’m okay.”

“Woojae’s here and he’s worried sick about all of us.” Sapp announced. “So, he went to go get some real food.”

“And Junwon?” I mumbled. “He probably hates me for missing the show.”

Zoey shook her head. “I don’t even think he knows, Hazel.”

I sighed.

“He can’t be mad after he finds out.” Sapphire said approaching the side of the bed. “Do you know his number by heart, we can call him right now.”

I shook my head as she picked up the phone, ready to dial. “I don’t even know my mom’s num- Oh my god! Mom.”

Zoey sat down next to me. “She’s on her way. I already know that I’m so dead when she gets here too.” She admitted.

“She’ll be happy that we’re alive Zoe, stop.”

later that night

the ride home was quiet. mom and her boyfriend sat in the front seat, holding hands like they were on a romantic boat ride of something. yeah, she was worried, but i was expecting a different outcome.

zoey’s head was rested on my shoulder and she was slowly falling asleep. i winced as pain shot through my back. i lied to the doctors when i told them i was fine. i just wanted to go home, badly. tonight was a complete mess and i just wanted to be in my bed.

getting up the stairs, zoey helped me to my bed.

“you know i can walk on my own.” i joked. she didn’t respond. i watched as she pulled back my sheets and picked out a pair of pajamas for me.

“sheesh, shut up- will ya?” i chuckled.

her eyes shot up and she had the look of a baby deer, who was lost in the woods.

“i said it’s not your fault.” i calmly repeated. zoey looked down at started to play with the fabric on the sheets.

“i feel like it is though..” 

i slowly climbed into my bed and zoey did the same.

Junwon’s POV

after the performance, i waited outside the venue and expressed how extremely happy i was that everyone came.

as the crowd started to die down, i leaned against the hood of my car and dialed hazel’s number again. still nothing, so i decided to leave her a voicemail. 

i was pissed.

why would she just diss me like this?

beep

“hey..i don’t know where you are or if you’re still mad at me or whatever. i think it’s pretty fucked up that you missed my show tonight.”

i sighed and paused for a moment.

“you’re probably with bryan.”

just saying his name made my blood boil.

“i dont even know why you’re with the kid. how do you ditch me for someone who doesn’t value you, hazel? i’m always fucking there for you and you know i value your time and i would never-”

i stopped myself.

“i just feel so damn stupid cause i had something really special planned for you.. for us, and you just.. whatever”

hanging up the phone, i shut my eyes and clenched my jaw.

“trouble in paradise?” i heard jay’s voice say. i quickly switched up my attitude and chuckled. “nah, i'm definitely single, bro.” 

the words pinched my sides.

“well, you’re in luck cause someone was really feelin the show.” jay nodded in the direction of a small framed girl who stood just off to the side, with the rest of his crew. i glanced over at her and she smiled, tucking some hair behind her ear.

i thought of hazel for a moment. 

she’s got an entire boyfriend, so who cares if i entertain this chick.

“she’s single.” he added.

smiling back at her, i felt my anger slowly disappear.

“so, how does korea sound bro?” jay asked as he changed the subject.

caught off guard, i furrowed my brows. “what?” i turned my attention back to him.

“i wanna sign you. but i need you in korea.” jay laughed. my eyes got big. “wait, you wanna sign me?” i said confused. “why else did you think i showed up tonight? i wanted to see if you were down to be apart of h1ghr music.”

what he was saying, still wasn’t connecting in my head. “so, you wanna sign me?” i repeated. jay rolled his eyes in a playful manner.

“yes, dude. think about it. here’s my number.” he said slipping me a piece of paper. “think about it and get back to me by the end of next week.”

i took the paper and glanced at it.

“we’re going to an after party at this club, wanna join us? tons of beautiful ladies will be there, plus your little secret admirer.” he said rubbing his hands together. “maybe you guys can get to know each other.”

the next day

Hazel’s POV

the next morning, i woke up to laughter coming from downstairs. i furrowed my brows and sat up, making my way to the hallway.

i tilted my head as i heard sapphire’s voice.

“sapp?” i yelled out. “haze? you awake?” her voice was happy and i could tell she was skipping over to me by the sound of her shoes.

“hi.” she said looking up at me. i leaned over the ponywall and smiled down at her. “what are you doing here?” i laughed. “get yourself together, you’re coming with me today.”

i shook my head. “for what?” sapphire groaned and stomped up the stairs. “go! zoey needs to get herself together too. we’re going to be late.”

“late for what?” i asked.

moments later

getting in the car with sapphire, i sighed. it felt so weird to be in a vehicle after the accident.

“so, where are we going exactly?” zoey said strapping her seatbelt on.

“my house- we need a girly time and i’m also throwing a party tonight and i need some help setting up.” she smiled back at zoey through the review mirror.

i looked over at sapphire. “a party? sapphire, we just got into a car accident. how do you have to energy to have a party?” i said annoyed.

she rolled her eyes and sighed as she began driving. “look, we almost lost our lives last night. by the grace of god, we’re alive and that deserves to be celebrated.”

as we pulled up to sapphire’s house, zoey gasped. “no way! this is your freakin house?” she shouted. sapphire laughed. “its my parents’ house, i just happen to be their roommate.”

walking in, zoey grabbed my hand- squeezing it tight.

“remind me why you’re always at our house.” i said sighing. every time i walked into sapphire’s house, i instantly felt like a peasant.

“cause, it’s too quiet here. i hate it. the place is too big for just one person all the time.” she wined.

as we walked through the entrance, she lead us up the double stairs and into her room.

sapphire’s room

“sapphire, you’re not allowed to come over anymore. we’re moving in.” zoey said standing in the door frame. sapphire laughed. “be my guest. my parents are never here.”

later that night

looking through sapphire’s closet, i groaned. “sapp, i wont be able to pull any of these off. can’t i just stay up here while you have your party?”

she shot her eyes up from her phone. sapphire was busy sending out invitations via text message and dm.

“absolutely not. now move.” she laughed. making her way towards her closet, she went straight to a tan dress with sleeves. “this. now go get dressed so we can do your hair.” sapphire patted me on the head and shooed me away.

“as for the princess, this one will look amazing on you.” 

as i walked past zoey, her eye lit up and i shook my head.

hazel’s outfit:

sapphire’s out:

zoey’s outfit:

as the house started to fill with people and the music blasted, i felt so out of place. zoey was out in the center of the floor, dancing with sapphire like we never got into an accident in the first place. i didn’t want to do much moving since my back was on fire. even these heels were hard to walk in.

i walked over to the kitchen, grabbing something to drink. i said hi to a few familiar faces then made my way back over to the bottom of the stairs and took a seat. i kept a close eye on zoey, since wondering eyes were already drooling over her. as i took a sip of my drink, i heard sapphire squeal.

that was the ‘woojae just walked into the room’ squeal.

i turned towards the door and seen him and junwon walking inside. i dropped my drink, letting it spill all over my dress. 

he was with another girl. 

she was glued to his side as they pranced through the crowd of people. sapphire’s smile instantly faded as she spotted the female with junwon.

[vannahfanfics]

Hello! I stumbled onto your Luffy x Nami fic "Natural" last night and absolutely adored it! I was wondering, if you take fanfic requests, could you write a cute friendship one shot for Law and Chopper? Their interaction in your fic was just so adorable that I'd love to see you do more. Thank you for your hard work!

Thank you so much for requesting this; I had a lot of fun writing it! Chopper is the best boi, don’t try to change my mind~

EDIT: My dumb ass forgot Chopper was in Zou during the Dressrosa arc. We’re gonna pretend he wasn’t. :D 

Just Another Day in Crazy Land

Law squinted slightly as he stepped out into the morning, raising a hand to his eyes to shield against the persistent and bright rays of the sun shining in the clear sky above; it was quite a difference compared to the dank, gloomy shack he had just exited. Really, it was only so dark because the windows were shielded with thick, dark curtains, staving off any prying eyes that may discover the crew of pirates recovering within its unordinary wooden walls, a tangle of limbs and blankets and bandages. In the distance, Law could see the also-recovering capital of Dressrosa Kingdom; the jagged rubble of collapsed buildings made ugly peaks against the blue sky, like some sort of twisted mountain range. It had only been a night since Law had accomplished his goal of putting a bitter end to Donquixote Doflamingo, with Straw Hat Luffy’s help, and he really ought to stay inside and continue recuperating; however, if he spent another minute amongst their snores and snorts and mumbled lunacies, he was liable to go insane. Additionally, Law had never been one to laze around and sleep all day, even when he had sustained injuries such as those he bore now. Thus, bored and wide awake, he had been lured outside by the rising sun. With a small sigh, he leaned against the wall of the building with his sword propped up beside him, watching the sun paint the sky of dawn.

“Um… Mr., um, Law, sir?” The Heart Pirate captain glanced down with raised eyebrows as he was addressed by the unmistakable, high-pitched, shaky voice of Tony Tony Chopper the reindeer; the little pirate doctor was standing in the threshold of the ajar cabin door, looking like he was trying to peer out from behind the building but was oddly in the complete opposite direction, his entire body sticking out with half his face hidden by the wooden structure. He stiffened as Law turned his gaze on him. Law had discovered he was a skittish thing, and Law in particular intimidated him. He didn’t fault him, really; Law hardly ever smiled and knew he had an intense demeanor about him.

“What is it, Chopper-ya? Do you need something?” Sweat began to bead down his furry face as he debated continuing the conversation and his gaze flickered about before settling on his hooved feet.

“I was, um, wondering if you would take me into town to get more medicine… My stores are pretty low…” That was no shock; Luffy and Zoro were more bandage and salve than person at this point, and the rest of them hadn’t escaped unscathed, either. Chopper stared at him hesitantly, likely expecting a blatant refusal. It’s not like Law wanted to do it, but in the state of disrepair that the city was, with some of Doflamingo’s minor goons still running about and the entire place a construction zone, it likely wasn’t a safe place for the little reindeer to wander by himself, either. No doubt, the rest of the Straw Hats were still passed out on the floor, otherwise Chopper wouldn’t have come within ten yards of him and asked him a favor. Besides, he was awake anyway, so he might as well give himself something to do and hang around one of the loons he actually had something in common with. With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself up off the building and grabbed his sword, swinging it up to prop it on his shoulder, and then looked intently at Chopper.

“All right, then, let’s get going.”

“Wah! Okay!” he squealed, darting inside to scramble around and gather up his money and take inventory of what he needed. With all the banging and bumbling happening inside, Law was amazed that none of the slumbering pirates awoke, but as the reindeer scampered out breathing heavily and shut the door behind him, Law heard no signs of life from within. He turned on his heel to set off across the rocky landscape towards the shell of the capital, and heard Chopper’s hooves striking the rocks as he scurried to keep up with him. Law didn’t pay much attention at first, his dark eyes sweeping across the uninteresting rocky steppe of bleak, muted tones and scrubby grasses and shrubs, but eventually he became aware of Chopper’s labored breathing and unsteady gait and he glanced over his shoulder to see him lagging behind, so he took more care to match his stride to the little reindeer’s. Zoro-ya would kill me if I lost him. Law wasn’t afraid of him, but he also didn’t care to have to go up against him, either.

“Wow. Look at it; the Birdcage did so much damage,” Chopper breathed as they came upon the outskirts of the city, the first to be sliced to ribbons by Doflamingo’s power. Since Law had slowed down a little, he had lost the touch of exhaustion to him, and flitted about Law’s feet as he drank in the mass destruction with a mixture of awe and horror. The road was not so much a road, as the dirt path had been eclipsed by the corpses of residential buildings. Law carefully picked his way across the labyrinth of carved stone and shattered glass with Chopper hopping along behind. At first it was easily navigable, but as they headed deeper into the capital, the destroyed shells of the building became more densely packed, spilling over the road in mountainous heaps. Several times Law had to clamber over collapsed sections and pause to grab Chopper by the back of his shirt to haul him over, and every time to little reindeer went limp in his grasp, freezing like a cat held by its scruff, until Law set him down again and he would hop up blushing and rubbing the back of his neck while he sputtered gratuitous remarks.  

After about half an hour of picking their way through the ruins, they entered the area where the pirates and the citizens had made their stand against the birdcage; aside from the deep scores in the ground and a few clipped-off sections of a few buildings, the area was relatively unharmed. It was here that the two pirates finally stumbled upon signs of life- clotheslines strung between adjacent buildings with drying fabrics fluttering in the breeze, houseplants and barrels and decorative items bringing color into the otherwise colorless roads and buildings of stone and wood, a few people strolling about or chatting idly across the way to each other. Chopper got all flustered again when he had to ask a young woman where their marketplace was currently set up, and then he shyly related it to Law, pointing down the street before trotting ahead of him, face scrunched up as he set himself into mission mode. Law strolled along behind the reindeer, his dark eyes creeping into every alleyway and dark corner; it was common knowledge now that he had been instrumental in Doflamingo’s downfall, and the lower-ranking brutes that were still skulking about would no doubt like to get their revenge against him for ruining their paychecks.

They must have been going the right way, because it wasn’t long before the air was filled with the hum of countless voices; shouts and calls and chatter bounced off the buildings as they approached, and through the gaps in the structures Law could see colored fabrics of tents and banners flapping about in the wind. Lights were strung between lampposts, indicating that the market still had a very active nightlife, and the simple stone beneath his feet gave way to elegant cobblestone arranged in a concentric circular pattern throughout the marketplace. He came up on the entrance, where Chopper was perched up on a barrel with one hoof held to his eyes as he scanned the throng for a suitable stall. Law hovered on the edge of the crowd, having no desire to venture within; the place was packed with people. Apparently neighboring islands had heard of the struggle within Dressrosa, and vendors had thought it quite the money-making venture, to bring their wares to the recovering city. Law heard them shouting above the cacophony, offering food and clothing and other things for cheap, good-luck charms and talismans and other scams, “buy-one-get-one” and “half off for five minutes!” The corner of his mouth twitched at the thought of diving into the chaos, but there was no way he could let Chopper go in there by himself, because he would be trampled for sure.

When Law looked at the barrel, there was just empty air where Chopper had been sitting a few seconds ago, and his heart stopped as he realized he was dead meat.

“Shit! Chopper-ya, where did you go?” he shouted and shoved his way into the throng of people without another moment’s consideration. He used the scabbard of his sword to make himself a wider berth in the crowd, and though he got cold looks and affronted gasps from the people there, he righteously didn’t care because he was too busy looking for the doctor. He stumbled out of the writhing crowd on the right side of the market, dashing from vendor to vendor gasping “Haveyouseenatalkingreindeer?” and before the person had even finished refusing and tried offering his wares he would be scrambling off to the next. Law had made a half-circuit of the marketplace and was descending further into a panic as he realized he would be on the receiving end of Zoro’s katanas until he heard distinctive wailing amongst the crowd.

“Wahhhhh! Lawwwww, where arrrrrrrrrre you?”

“Hold on, Chopper-ya, I’m coming!” Law called out before climbing up onto a barrel beside a stall, snapping at the vendor, “Shut your damn mouth, can’t you see I’m busy?!” when he sidled over to the edge of the stall to try to sell him some girly-ass necklaces. He straightened up with his hand held to his eyes to block that annoyingly bright damn sun while he surveyed the gaps in the crowd, looking for any sign of the crying reindeer. His shoulders sagged as he searched for a minute or so to no avail, until finally he caught a glimpse of brown fur and curved horns; his eyes locked onto a sniffling Chopper, who was miserably talking to a brawny man who definitely did not look like he was concerned for Chopper’s well-being. Oh, fuck, he’s gonna bribe him with candy or something and make off with him! he thought in fear, and practically swan-dived off the barrel into crowd. He shoved his way through the men and women frantically, ignoring the cries and curses, and just as the man was reaching down to grab Chopper, Law threw himself out, slid on his belly across the cobblestone, and wrapped Chopper up on his arms while he glared savagely up at the very confused man. “Fuck off. My reindeer.”

“Um, look, I don’t think-“

“I said fuck off! My reindeer! Mine!” Law hissed, practically rabid from his period of heightened emotions, and the man knit his eyebrows as he leaned back and looked at Chopper hesitantly.

“It’s okay! This is who I was looking for! Thank you very much, mister!” the reindeer laughed as he repeatedly squished down the top of Law’s fluffy hat, and which each movement his fur brushed against Law’s cheek; that’s how closely he was holding him. The man looked a bit disgruntled, eyeing Law suspiciously, but the Heart Pirate just continued to glare savagely at him until he shrugged his shoulders and disappeared back into the crowd. Heaving a sigh, Law slowly sat up and brushed the dirt of his black clothes before his intense glare flickered to Chopper. The reindeer instantly stiffened and tears up again, quivering. Law debated yelling at him for a moment, but decided that it wasn’t worth the effort and just settled for flicking him hard in the forehead. “Ow!” he yelped while tenderly rubbing the spot.

“Don’t do that again.”

“Okay… Sorry…” Chopper mumbled obediently as he continued to rub his forehead despondently. “You looked like you didn’t want to go in the crowd, so I thought that maybe I could just be quick, but there’s so many people here that I got swept away…” Law exhaled sharply out of his nose as he looked away awkwardly; he made a mental note to not let his emotions and thoughts show so easily to the little reindeer, lest they end up in more near-disasters like such. He pulled himself to his feet, using his sword as leverage, before propping it on his shoulder again and looking at him pointedly.

“Look, I said I would take you to the market, and I meant it. Now, from this point on, hold onto my cloak so you don’t get lost,” he ordered.

“But-“

“Hoof. Cloak. Now.” As the harshness descended into Law’s voice, Chopper squeaked and hurriedly clutched onto Law’s cloak with his little hooves, nervously gulping. Once the reindeer had securely latched on, Law groaned slightly and let the tension melt from his body; when he opened his eyes, he noticed that he had gathered quite a crowd of concerned-looking people. “What the fuck are you all looking at? Mind your own goddamn business. I’ve got shopping to do!” he snapped with bristling shoulders, and they hurriedly dispersed, not hasty to incite more of his rage. He heard Chopper giggling and he looked down with grinding teeth. “What?”

“Sorry, it’s just kinda funny. You remind me of Zoro.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment? He’s an idiot.” Law pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping that the circus of clowns he had been traveling with was not rubbing off on him too much. He glanced down at Chopper out of the corners of his eyes to see him still grinning, and Law allowed his lips to curl into a faint smile. At the very least, he wasn’t bored anymore. “All right, Chopper-ya, let’s get back to what we were doing, yeah?”

“Mhmm! Y’know, you’re not as mean as I thought you were.” As Law lead him out of the middle of the crowd toward the outskirts, he laughed bitterly as he hung his head, admittedly a little sad that the reindeer had been so scared of him.

“Thanks, Chopper-ya…”

“Will you teach me some stuff about medicine sometime? Pretty please? I still have so much to learn!” the reindeer asked with sparkling eyes, and Law could not help but smile in bemusement.

“Sure. Medicine first, though,” he smirked as he led him over to the proper stall, and when they were close enough the reindeer let go of his cloak to scamper over to the stall, a small skip in his step as he beamed in glee. As Law watched him, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly at the mental image of being the apparent caretaker of the excitable little creature, no matter how hard he tried he could not wipe the small smile off his face. Just another day in Crazy Land with the Straw Hats.

They’re a headache sometimes, but they’re not that bad.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to perusemy Tableof Contents!

[reading-hub]

Dandy And The Jet 🚀 [3] To Boobies, Baby!

- Space Dandy x reader -

[part 2]

- - - - -

The digital transmission hidden underneath your jacket that was made by Bea so it was easy to update on the mission with Admiral Perry. You were explaining the events that were leading up to today, from that one-sided crazy bar fight, being able to escape said bar fight, having the opportunity to escape with Dandy's crew inside the "Aloha Oe" to now.

“So, you’ve already made your way to his inner circle?”

You hid within the hallways, luckily nobody hadn't woken up yet. Although that little wheeled robot named QT had this obsession with cleaning early, so your not exactly in the clearing yet...

"Yes, I have. His crew was surprisingly welcoming despite them being alien hunters.." You responded, remembering your last experience with some alien hunters in the past...

"I don't care about them! What about the target, how's is he taking in your presence? Has he suspected anything about you since your arrival?" Admiral was obviously cautious about you being found out in a short time. You rolled your eyes slightly.

You sighed and answered. "Well, he was questioning my position when I took the wheel, but nothing really about me.” Admiral sighed in relief, guess that's good news?

"Very well, just keep pursuing on the target at all times, don't let him slip through your fingers. We're so close yet so far." The burning skeleton commanded. "I will, sir." You agreed, transmission ended.

"Hello miss [f/n]!" You jumped slightly, turning around to see the little robot QT and his broom. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry! Did I startle you?" QT said in a worried tone. The robot really was the sweetest.

"Don't worry, er, I was just looking around the ship..." You smiled looking at the inter-galactic gears and such.

Now that I mentioned it, this ship is pretty huge, this must've cost a fortune, maybe Dandy is a successful alien hunter after all if he was able to afford such a ship and all...

You shrugged it off and looked at QT. "So uh, you clean up around the ship when everybody's asleep?" You asked, continuing the conversation with the little robot.

"I clean up anyway, even if everyone's awake or not." Saying in their autotuned voice, which is a bit adorable. "I really like cleaning," QT said simply.

"That's one hell of a favorite thing to do. I rarely ever hear someone say that sentence, ever." You chuckled a little. "So anyway, what exactly is the schedule around here?" You asked, changing the subject.

"Schedule?" QT said confused. "Oooh!" The male robots autotune sang in harmony. "To be quite honest, there really isn't one." They shrugged, your eyes quirked a little in surprise and confusion. "The only real mundane place that Dandy likes to go to most of the time is a place called Boobies," QT answered.

"Boobies?" Your whole facade went full-on confusion with what the innocent robot said so casually. "Yeah, it's this restaurant that Dandy really likes going to a lot but the paycheck is more than what we normally have so its tough for Dandy to accept when we don't have enough to go." The robot explained.

Huffing a little in response, "Judging by the name of this restaurant, I can tell why Dandy would like going there." Both QT and You laughed right after.

"Geez, you giggling pre-teens woke me up." Looks like your quality conversation with QT is over thanks to a grumpy pompadour. Speaking of pompadour, Dandy was hiding his hair using his blanket that he dragged along the floor without a care.

"Now if you excuse me, girlies, I gotta take a shower. This hair ain't gonna fix itself!" Dandy boasted proudly as if you were gonna swoon over him right when he gets out.

"We should probably check and see if Meow is awake, though I highly doubt it," QT grumbled as we walked to the main room of the ship. "How long does it usually take for everyone to be awake by?" You asked jokingly. "I'd say around 02:00 in standard time," QT answered quickly, looking at his watch that miraculously appears out of nowhere!

"It's nine-forty." You questioned immediately. “How long does it take for Dandy to finish up in there?" The robot rolled his screen eyes thinking of Dandy's precious timing.

"I'd say two hours, one if today's a lucky day." QT hoped.

"Dang." Was all you could say to that. The guys that you use to know hated when a woman took too long getting ready and didn't really care for their hair products. Needless to say, this Dandy guy was something else and nobody you’ve met before.

-

After talking with QT for two hours or so, you both sat at the dining table, if you call it that. You can easily tell by the crew that they didn't seem the type to eat breakfast together in a table.

QT was nice enough to make you a single cup of coffee. Luckily he was able to find some coffee beans after looking up and down in the cabinets. Wasn't a lot but you could manage either way. You wondered if he was able to have any human-like food?

You both shared a few things, like past stories. QT shared a lot about the past adventures him and Dandy have been through. A booby monster, plant people, and said something about zombies but I kinda lost track since all them were just bat-shit crazy all on their own.

You on the other hand only shared ones that were pretty tame when compared to theirs. Warning the robot that your adventures aren't really exciting to tell compared to what they told.

QT seemed interested with what you told him anyway, but you also didn’t want to overshare too much.

"What are you guys talking about?" The yawning came from Meow who was shuffling his feet, he must be still tired even though he's slept longer than the rest of us combined.

"[F/n] has been telling me about her adventures.” The robot said with glee, you couldn't help but smile in embarrassment when QT showed some exciting interest in your stories. "Whoa really?" Meow was obviously interested. All you could do was shrug in embarrassment.

It has been a while since people actually listen to what I had to say...

Meow just asked upon millions of questions each time you telling more and more details of the time you able to hold your own against the likes of humanoid monsters and crazy ex’s throughout the galaxy.

"Does that mean you know some close combat?" QT asked politely. "Yeah, and a bit of gun firing as well," You replied.

"So are you like some kind of superhero?" Meow smiled and pulled out his phone. “I'm not even close to a superhero."

True, you really weren’t . You were basically the big, bad, villain's accomplice, you know the ones where they trick the good guys into thinking that she's one of them now and then double-crosses them saying how "I am not who you think I am!" And then they laugh evilly.

The sad truth is that I don't think I can laugh evil.

"Is Dandy out of the shower yet? I really need to use the restroom." You said, obviously frustrated. QT grumbled, "Eh, probably putting his hair gel right about now..." You didn’t care, You just stood up and just tell Dandy to step out real quick so that you can go!

Storming off back to the hallway where you had that transmission call with Admiral and then that talk to QT later on.

Stopping your tracks, you noticed that the bathroom door had a small crack open. You could only guess Dandy got out and is probably changing back in his room? You hoped, otherwise he's gonna think you’re peeping on him, which he'll probably find flattering, you however were not intending on that.

Slowly walking towards the steamthat was seeping through the cracked door, Lights full white, You were hoping he forgot to turn off when he left...shit!

Peering through and - goddammit! - he's there! Oh well, at least he has a towel on, even if that towel is low cut and will probably fall off easily...fuck!

He was drying up his hair with another towel. The towel was off from his head, and you got a clear view of his shaggy natural hair!

Your eyes went full surprised. He really wasn't that bad looking without the hair gel, You certainly didn’t understand why he has to hide it...

Oh well.

You felt as though you were peeping a little too long.. you just booked it outta there! Maybe you should hold your bladder until he actually leaves the bathroom next time...

-

Sprinting back to the lounge, you know what you’ll just call it that since you refuse to call it a "dining room" or a "kitchen".

Meow and QT were still hanging around where you last talked to them. "That was quick," Meow said in surprise. You took a few breaths and replied, "Yeah, turns out I didn't really need to go." You said in relief.

A few minutes later, a wild Dandy appears behind you! "You're finally out of the shower?" You said in a bored tone. "You know if you wanted to take a shower with me, you could've asked?" He suggested slyly. Sadly, he had his pompadour back, kinda wishing to see his hair down. QT decided to change the subject.

"Nevermind that, where are we going, Dandy?"

Dandy's attention was at the robot. "To boobies, baby!" He boasted proudly. "Boobies, you mean that ‘breastaurant’ that QT was telling me about?" I jumped in with air quotes.

Dandy's face freaked a little. "QT, YOU TOLD HER ABOUT BOOBIES!?"

"Don't pin it on them, since I agreed to be apart of this crew, I was probably gonna find out anyway, no use of hiding it.." You said in defense. "She's got ya there, man.” Meow commented on the sideline.

All Dandy could do was have his lips curl, pouting like a child because you had a point.

"Alright, just don't take the fun out of Boobies for me, ok?" Dandy whined slightly at me. You shrugged it off, "Don't plan on it."

"Hey QT, how much we got for Boobies?" He called out to the robot. "Hm, probably enough. But Dandy, I thought we were going to spend this money for--" QT was cut from his words by Dandy.

"Nevermind that QT, we could always just hunt for a rare alien and get double the money back!"

Something tells me that this is just gonna be one those days...you know, the ones where shit gets fucked and it could've been avoided by just listening and following the obvious from earlier.

Yeah...those...

The four of you have arrived at Boobies. You really didn’t have an expectation of what this breastrant would look like, but seeing it right in front of your very eyes, it hit the nail on head.

You weren’t one to judge. We all have our guilty pleasures in life. Some like eating a bag of chips on a slow day, some like the smell of a certain candle that keeps them at ease, and some like a ditzy waitress who dresses little to the imagination to take their order while also small talk to on a daily basis.

You took a seat between QT and Meow, Dandy sat across from you. Small tension was between you and Dandy for a full two minutes. Dandy obviously not a fan of you being at Boobies with them. You couldn’t care less what he thought about you at that time, you just wanted to eat something, pay half of the check, possibly tip the waitress, and go back to the ship.

Before it can be anymore silent—

“Hey boys, how are we doing today?” You looked up, only to see a young blonde waitress, eyes looked as if full of innocence. She was quite pretty, you admit to yourself. “Oh my, I’m sorry, and how you today, miss?” Her wide eyes immediately directed towards you. Her tone was that of surprise and joy. Possibly because of how rare it is to have female customers here, you guess.

“I’m okay, thank you though.” You replied, smiling faintly at the blonde. “Yeah, we’re good today, too.” Dandy said after, his palm holding his jaw in boredom. The blonde beamed happily. “Dandy, who is she? Is she a new friend of yours?” She egged him on. Obviously curious about who you were. You’d think that this waitress is close friends with Dandy, given how easily she’s able to hold a conversation with him.

“No Honey, me and crew met her yesterday.” He explained, smirking with confidence. “Although an initiation of the Space crew in the talks.” In talks? You could’ve sworn he agreed to you being apart of the crew the first day you two met. You looked at him sideways, just what is he trying to get at?

“An initiation? That must be so fun! When is it??” Honey looked at him with answers. Dandy slumped on the booth, smug as all hell. He’s gonna get punched so bad when we get back to the ship. “Actually, initiation starts today.” He boasted.

“It is?” Honey asked excited.

“It is?” You reiterated sarcastically, wondering where this was going.

“It is.” Dandy conceded.

Before Dandy could be anymore proud of himself of having you put in a tight situation, hook line and sinker...

“Since when did we propose for an initiation for future crew members?” QT popped up with a sudden question out of nowhere. “We didn’t have one for Meow now that I think about it...” the robot added, while Dandy’s eyes widen, nervously.

“It’s a new thing I made up!” Dandy interjected. “I forgot to tell you and Meow about..” he explained, hoping the damn robot keeps thier mouth shut. “Okaaay, what’s the first stage of initiation then?” QT asked after.

Meow looked up from his phone, seeing what was unfolding right in front of him.

Dandy could only grind his teeth, thinking of one on the top of his head and try not to look stupid. Than, a light switched on his head!

“[f/n], our lovely new recruit here has to pay for the check.” Douche. That was all that popped in your head soon after.

Well, I have space skeleton demi-god and a pimp gorilla looking over me like vultures, I’m being labeled as a last resort plan to capturing Dandy, and being apart of his crew is the only shot I can get to getting closer to finishing my mission. No pressure.

Ok Dandy, I’ll play along.

“Well, if it’s what I have to do, than so be it.” You agreed, getting a little too confident.

“Alright!” Dandy rubbed his hands together in anticipation. This was too fun for him.

The food orders were now final.

Dandy made it easier by just having you pay for the ‘Captain’s Meal’, aka Dandy and yourself. Meow just ordered for soup and a soda, QT just wanted some juice. You wondered if the robot could actually consume foods...

Your order was that of a space meat fillet that you thought looked good on the menu and your choice of two sides.

However, Dandy knew he had you by his finger and went all out. Two large chucks of meat, topped with chili, cheese, a ramen bowl, and a slushee that was most likely child size.

He looked as smug and pampered as they came at that moment. The food came in.

Meow’s and QT ‘s came first since their orders were small and simple. Your’s came second. Dandy’s was last, the meal was so huge that Honey needed another waitress to help her bring it to the table.

You rolled your eyes at how Dandy was making a big deal out of this.

-

Meow and QT were done with thier orders a long time ago. You just finished your own meal. Dandy on the other hand, still had halfway to go. I guess Dandy didn’t think though how big of an order his was compared to everyone else.

“You’re not gonna finish that.” Meow commented as he was scrolling his phone. He pouted his lip in response. “Nope, I’m not gonna give in to the temptation of losing.” Dandy replied, hiding away the worry.

“Losing what? I’m the one paying for your meal.” You said suddenly. “How about we just ask to box it for to-go.” You suggested. You honestly felt a little bad. He looked like a small boy who feels bad for not finishing his dinner. It was honestly kinda cute at this state.

Wait what?

“Fine!” He gave in, crossing his arms in the process. You perked up at the waitress who was walking past your table, and asked if they’re was a to-go box for a meal like Dandy’s.

Honey came in with the check, the total of Dandy’s meal itself was almost 300 yen, your own meal was around 30. Luckily, you secretly tapped Honey’s shoulder and gave the ditzy blonde a coupon for Boobies when Dandy wasn’t looking. You knew holding onto that coupon would benefit you one day.

The crew got their things together before heading out. Dandy begrudgingly holding onto his box that had his meal.

It was already midnight by the time you guys came out of the breastaurant. All of got into ship, one by one. All tired from eating. Seeing how exhausted you looked, Dandy took the liberty of stirring the ship with QT tonight. How nice.

Guess him being nice was just a thank you for putting up with him today at Boobies.

Before you could relax your eyes, Dandy shouted out:

“Whoops, forgot to get gas!” He nervously smiled through his teeth.

“ARGGHHH!!!” You, Meow, and QT loudly responded.

[whatdoyouthinkmyjobis]

Hunters on the Hellmouth

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AN: Originally, Hunters on the Hellmouth was 42 chapters, but I decided to cut the final chapter in two. Inspired by events in BTVS 7.21 “End of Days,” SPN 5.19 “Hammer of the Gods,” SPN 5.20 “The Devil You Know,” and SPN 5.21 “Two Minutes to Midnight.”  Here’s a cheat sheet for keeping track of the Potentials. Warning: Character death.

Chapter 42: A Thing with Feathers

The flowers stung Bobby. In movies, the end of the world meant a barren wasteland of ash and rock, skeletal trees, failed crops. In reality -- both in Sunnydale and Sioux Falls -- nature plugged along without a care for who was living or dying. Dandelions mocked sidewalks. Manicured lawns turned into thickets. Honeysuckle and morning glories swallowed the houses.

Karen’s flower beds had never grown back though. One spring in a fit of guilt, Bobby had even tried to restore them, but his own personal Apocalypse was too complete for nature.

The new, modern building before him had several blacked out windows and overgrown flower beds. The vampires inside probably weren’t interested in gardening, yet they’d still shown more of a green thumb than Bobby. The question was: How many vampires could the building hold?

Robin Wood stroked his goatee. “We ran around eight hundred students, plus staff.”

“Give or take a massacre,” Buffy added.

Bobby snorted, half amused, half horrified. Sunnydale High: a school on a Devil’s Gate.

“That don’t mean anythin’.” Bobby adjusted his cap to keep the sun out of his eyes. “That’s all crowd control and student-teacher ratios. Question is, how much space do vampires need? And how much shit will they put up with for Lucifer?”

Bobby had been busy since his boys took off. He had a whole new world to learn about after all, and Giles, Willow and the rest and proved themselves virtual libraries of information.

Thankfully, the street went two ways. Bobby had experimented with a few of his own monster-hunting tricks from back home. The things he’d learned would be useful in the upcoming battle. Not to mention, the several houses they’d taken over needed constant repairs, and his construction and engineering experience far outstripped that of Xander Harris.

So it was that Bobby found himself seriously considering blowing up a high school. “If this seal is all the way down in the basement with as many twists and turns as you say, there’s no way we can bend the sunlight inside.” Xander’s plan. “Daylight lamps would be a fool’s gamble. Best plan is to either cut a hole in the roof or blow the whole damn thing up.”

“Might as well,” Robin sighed. “If the board ever reconvenes, I’m pretty sure they’re firing my ass.”

“There’s no way they can blame you for this,” said Buffy.

The principal offered her an unconvincing smile. “You underestimate the power of bureaucracy. Someone is going to have to take the fall for this. When you blew up the last school, they simultaneously blamed it on a gas leak, shoddy wiring, and ‘the poor leadership of Principal Snyder.’”

When you blew up the last school.

Bobby knew his first impressions of Buffy -- lovesick and worried -- weren’t her whole identity. When Dean had looked at her, love melted his features, erasing the hard edge years of hunting had cut into him. With each passing day, Bobby saw that Buffy was fearless. She was decisive. And unlike most hunters he knew, Buffy was overflowing with love and connections.

Bobby’s lips curled into a smile. If they could close this Devil’s Gate, if they could trap Lucifer and Michael, if they won, his boy could have a happily ever after.

Assuming Dean came back.

It was like riding a comet, teeth-rattling at speeds that threatened to peel skin from bone. When the Winchesters landed, rolling across the overgrown Sunnydale lawns, Cas was already glowing, fissures of pale blue light criss-crossing his skin.

“Run!” the angel warned.

The brothers bolted toward Buffy’s little white house, some of the Potentials already streaming out to greet them.

“Get back inside!” Dean screamed. “He’s gonna blow!”

Dean took the downstairs, Sam the up, where they yanked people to the floor, shouting, “Cover your ears! Don’t look!”

A blinding light filled the house. Dean squeezed his eyes shut. Then a boom rattled the house, cracking a few windows.

“Everybody okay?” Dean asked as he got up from the floor.

“They’re alive!”

“Sam and Dean are back!”

“They killed Death!”

Ellen barreled out of the kitchen, eyes already wet with tears. “Don't scare me like that, boy.” She squeezed Dean then smacked him in the chest. “I came back to life, and then you took off without a how-do-you-do.”

“Good to see you, too, Ellen. Sam’s upstairs if you wanna slap him around.”

She smiled slyly and dropped her voice to a whisper. “And what the hell is this about you of all people havin’ a girlfriend?”

“Speaking of, where’s Buffy?” he asked, looking around.

“Out doing her hero thing. She’s a catch.”

He grinned. “I know.”

The smile faded quickly, however, as Dean headed outside, hoping against hope that the explosion hadn’t meant what he knew it meant.

He didn’t get very far before the sight of her stopped him in his tracks. She was across the street, eyes locked on him. All blonde hair, attitude, and a winning smile.

Jo Harvelle.

She bounded over to him, her smile growing ever brighter with each step, but she stopped just short of his reach. “Hey.” Jo looked him up and down. “You’re alive!”

“Same to you,” he said, giving her a bear hug.

Before she let go, Dawn, Xander and several Potentials piled on. Sam was the center of a similar hive lead by Willow and Giles. It was good to be back in Sunnydale, back in the packed house, back around his chosen family.

But the trip had not been free. Dean, Sam, and a curious entourage headed down the street where a block of houses were leveled. Those nearby were peppered with shrapnel, the windows broken, shingles missing. In the middle of it all, a red spot stained the street.

Giles inspected the mess before asking the Winchesters in a soft voice, “Is that your angel friend?”

“Technically, no,” said Sam. He pursed his lips as he surveyed the remains. “Cas used all of his energy to bring us here and, I guess, had nothing left to maintain his vessel. That, uh, spot was Jimmy Novak. Cas is somewhere in the ether.”

“The pretty angel is dead?!” one of the Potentials wailed.

Pretty? “No,” Dean said, needing to hear himself say it, “Castiel is fine. He just doesn’t have a vessel anymore.”

“Not much ‘elp as angel dust though.” Spike, not a part of the warm welcome crew, had quietly joined the crowd around the stain in the street. Lower, so only Dean could hear, Spike added, “I’ll take care of this. You’ve dealt with enough bodies.”

“Thanks,” Dean said. It felt wrong somehow, though. His friend, Castiel, was fine. Dean knew that in his gut. Jimmy Novak was a stranger. Another stranger who’d died helping him fight the fight. “We can burn the remains. Give Jimmy a proper hunter’s funeral.”

“Whatever you want, mate.”

“What about the Trickster?” asked Ellen.

“Dead,” said Dean.

Lucifer had found a crack between worlds he could slip through, though not with a vessel. The markings on their ribs broken, the Winchesters had been easy to track. Cas had fixed their warding, but it was too late. Lucifer was there in some Indiana no-tell motel slaughtering gods and angels alike. Though they were no longer trackable, Dean had no doubt Lucifer would soon be returning to his new playground in search of them.

“But you did the thing, right?” asked Spike. “You went to Mordor to get the rings?”

Andrew held up a finger in protest. “That’s not how --”

“Shut up,” Spike said.

Dean plucked two rings from his pocket and tossed them to Giles. “Collected all four.”

Willow leaned in by Giles and inspected the rings. “Huh, I expected some more all-powerful pizazz,” she said to no one.

Giles dropped the rings in Willow’s outstretched hands. Her hand immediately sizzled. She screamed and dropped them. “Power’s definitely on,” she said through gritted teeth.

Giles picked up the rings in a handkerchief. “Gabriel’s plan was to get the rings, allowing us to reopen Lucifer’s cage, correct?”

The Winchesters nodded.

“What’s the lure for our trap?” he continued.

“That’s the million dollar, life-or-death question,” Sam replied.

Robin slowed his car when they turned onto Revello Drive, now ground zero for an explosion. A cluster of people gathered in the street around what must have caused the blast.

Buffy bolted before the car stopped.

He was there. Tall and handsome as ever, standing on the edge of whatever was going on. Joy welled up inside her. Buffy was too choked up to even call his name.

Dean looked up and ran to her, picking her up as she leapt into his arms. She wrapped her legs around him, his strong arms cradling her thighs as she planted a kiss on his beautiful mouth. In his arms, she felt like they doubled, tripled in size to contain all the feelings tripping from her lips to his. They grew until they were giants. They grew until the world shrank away, all worries, all demands, all destinies became less than grains of sand. Cradling his face in her hands, she tore herself away for air and got lost in his mossy green eyes.

“Hey Girly,” he said softly.

She kissed him again, drunk on the sweet sting of his whiskey mouth, until someone coughed loudly behind them.

“Okay, lovebirds, other people here,” said Bobby.

Dean set Buffy down, keeping one arm around her while pulling in Bobby for a three-way hug.

“Um, so what happened here?” she asked, noticing the red smear on the pavement for the first time.

“Cas blew his vessel,” Dean said, somberly.

“Oh God!” She covered her mouth in shock.

“But Cas is fine,” he added, hurriedly. “He’s fine.”

Bobby furrowed his brow at the mess. “We should pick up what we can. Give him a real hunter’s funeral.”

Dean nodded. “That’s what I said. Spike offered to deal with this.” He gestured at the spot.

That seemed odd for Spike, who Buffy spied milling on the edge of the circle looking every direction but theirs. Maybe he’d bonded some with the angel, but that seemed unlikely, too. It struck her that she didn’t know who he talked to lately. Her, yes. She thought she’d seen him talking with the Harvelle’s a few times. With Sam gone, was there anyone else Spike felt comfortable with?

She hadn’t noticed that the the crowd had started moving back toward her house. She leaned into Dean, taking in his gunpowder and leather scent, listening to his small talk with Bobby.

Then somebody screamed.

They group rushed over to a brick house, one of their several expanded homebases. On the sidewalk lay one of the girls, eyes burned in their sockets.

“Steph wanted to see an angel,” one of the girls said through tears.

“I got it!” Jo shooed away the rubber-neckers. “We'll do a service tonight before sunset. You all know the drill.”

“You need a hand?” Sam asked. The Winchesters had cleaned up every other body.

“Nah, you guys go. Tell your story. I'll catch up. Besides, she's from my house.” There was something stiff about Jo's smile.

No one else wanted to volunteer for body clean up, so the whole group left Jo and Spike to their grizzly task.

Two bodies -- one of which had basically turned to goo -- weren’t the most appetizing site; nonetheless, Andrew had just pulled the last pizzas from the oven when the Winchesters returned. Soon, the somber attitude of fresh deaths melted to a buzz of excitement as everyone waited for the Winchesters to stop eating and tell their story.

Buffy surveyed the options in the kitchen. “Is it all pepperoni?”

“It never goes bad!” Xander said around a mouth full.

Anya patted him on the shoulder. “Yes it does.”

“Can you let me have this?” he begged through a spray of food.

“Ellen, my new Jedi master, and I made them,” said Andrew. “She has dough powers. Anyway, I insisted on cheese. It’s in the living room.”

“SAM’S GOING TO TELL THE PESTILENCE STORY!” someone shouted from the dining room.

Buffy held still as a rush of people flowed around her. Once the crowd slowed, she ducked into the living room, where Dean sat at the study table with a plate full of pizza.

“First, you need to know about the Croatoan virus…” Sam began.

She sat beside Dean, hand on his leg, head on his shoulder. He leaned into her, their bodies humming. Buffy wanted to tell him a thousand things: how she’d killed Caleb, how Lucifer had invaded her dreams, how much her heart ached in his absence. Sitting beside him, a comfortable smile curling his lips, none of it felt pressing.

They listened to Sam in the other room, his bilious tale of swine flu bewitching the crowd. “So we’re on the floor, writhing with who knows how many illness, and --”

“Which illnesses?” Xander asked.

Sam mumbled and continued with the story.

“Did Pestilence give you an std?” Buffy whispered to Dean.

“Clean bill of health, I swear.” Dean took another bite of pizza.

“Dean!” the crowd in the dining room called.

“Everybody wants to hear the Death story,” Sam added.

Taking his hand in hers, Dean smiled at Buffy. Together, they walked toward the eager audience. “You tell it,” Dean said, grabbing a slice of cheese pizza.

Sam shook his head. “I wasn’t there. Besides, I already told the Pestilence story.”

“So cool,” said one of the Potentials, smiling and bobbing on her toes.

“Ew gross,” whined another, who had nonetheless pressed in with the rest to hear the story.

Grinning playfully, Buffy tilted her head to the side. “Did he have a robe and scythe, or was he more stylish?”

“Suit,” Dean replied. “So this big storm was brewing. We’re talkin’ black skies at noon. Hail. The whole nine. And it was about to wipe out Chicago.”

“Nooo, not my Chitown,” gasped Margo.

“Death was there...eating pizza.”

Several people put their slices down.

“Death likes pizza?” asked Maya, eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“Deep dish,” Dean replied.

“The only proper pizza,” added Margo.

“I didn’t even get a chance to use the weapon Gabriel gave me, but lucky me, Death ain’t a fan of having Lucifer yankin’ his chain. He gave me his ring and spared the city. Equal parts easy and terrifying.” Dean turned to Buffy and said in a clear voice, “He says, ‘Hello,’ by the way. Apparently Death’s a fan of your work.”

Buffy grinned. She wasn’t surprised Death knew her; their work was tied together. Creatures of the night spoke her name in a hushed whisper as if she could be right around the corner, but she was in a house full of naive children who had mutinied right before Dean had left. He wanted the audience to know she had Death’s respect.

“The end. Go frolic or stab things or whatever kids are into these days,” Dean said with a dismissive wave to the groans of the crowd. Leaning over Sam’s chair, he whispered, “Where’s the bag?”

Sam pointed to an army duffle by the stairs.

Turning back to Buffy, Dean asked “You wanna take a walk?”

Lacing her fingers with his, she replied, “I’d like that.”

Boyish glee shone from Dean’s face. “See ya, Sammy. Don’t wait up.”

Jo patted Steph’s cold body, wrapped in a sheet, and resting in the back of a hotwired pickup. “Was it worth it, kid?”

Slamming the tailgate shut, she noticed Buffy and Dean leaving the house hand in hand. She turned away. Down the street Spike was shoveling spades full of goo into a bucket. It looked like he was talking to himself. Deciding he needed company, Jo headed his way.

With nothing better to do than drive herself crazy over facing the Apocalypse again, Jo had bided her time in Sunnydale, getting to know its few remaining residents. Aside from goddess vessels, (Willow the Witch frankly freaked her out,) and goddess vessels-in-waiting, there were a few bonafide hunters in the mix.

First, there was the how-are-they-still-alive camp. Andrew, who mystifyingly claimed to be Buffy’s former arch nemesis, had promptly started following her mom around like a puppy. Then there was affable, goofy Xander and his indifferent-to-the-whole-thing ex Anya.

One the other hand, there were the more serious hunters. Giles was Sunnydale’s answer to the previously unthought question, “What if Bobby were refined?” Jo liked to listen to them talk shop. They were even funnier together when she kept their glasses topped. The son of a previous Slayer, Robin Wood reminded her most of hunters back home -- quiet, focused, reluctant to be with the group. Of course, he looked like a downright social butterfly next to Spike.

Spike -- a great fighter and keen researcher -- was doing that self-imposed hunter-in-exile thing. Keep people at arms length because their damage is special damage. At least that’s how it looked to Jo. Dawn had admitted, “He used to be a friend, but… he got ugly for a while. Evil. I know he’s changed, but the hurt is still there.”

Hurt or no hurt. Damage or no damage. It seemed to Jo that the whole crew should be using Spike’s skills better.

He did, however, talk to Jo. He was funny and sweet with this gentlemanly air under his rock and roll shell. They’d spent more than one evening joking over a bottle of wine, measuring their new life in sips. They were two creatures newly reborn, teetering on the edge of extinction.

Then there was the rumor that Spike was Buffy’s ex.

Spike was still talking to himself. “--let me teach it to you. It starts, ‘’ope is a thing with feathers.’ (See the irony?)” He sploshed another small piece of Cas’ vessel into the bucket.

“Maybe you need a wet vac?” Jo said.

He looked up at her, not even a hint of surprise on his face. “Thought you’d be a bit more broken up about your friend.”

“Castiel? I didn’t really know him,” she confessed. “I'm more of a poltergeist girl. This angel business is way above my pay grade.”

“Castiel was good, especially for a bleedin’ angel.” Spike stood and stretched, his white t-shirt popping up over his belt. “But this wasn’t Feathers, at least according to the Winchesters. Just the body. Angel’s in the wind.”

Spike surveyed his work. The street was still stained red, but at least the chunky bits were gone. He made a face at the contents of the bucket, then began to search the grass.

“I didn’t realize you ‘ad it so bad.” He shot her a glance, his mouth upturned into a knowing grin.

Jo felt her cheeks flushing hot. “Got what bad?”

“I saw you rush out of your ‘ouse, ‘ot and ‘eavy to see Dean Winchester again. I knew you ‘ad a crush, but not the ache.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said in a rush. She felt like he could see through her.

Spike cocked his head to the side. “Come now. We didn’t volunteer for body duty out respect for the dead. Warm corpses ‘ave more appeal right now than watching your ex in someone else’s arms.”

“Dean's just a friend.” Her voice modulated oddly to cover the lie.

Spike shrugged. “Tell yourself what you want, pet, but the pining will eat you alive.”

Jo pounced on the opportunity to turn the tables. “Like you pining for Buffy?”

“I'd like to think I'm past pining. Buffy needs me like the Titanic needs an iceberg.”

Jo bit back a laugh at his self-importance. What is it with men? “If you’re her iceberg, does that make Dean her James Cameron?”

“There was so much room on that bloody door!” Spike said with the earnestness of a true fan.

“Near! Far! Whereeeeeeeeever you are!” Jo sang loud and off-key.

“God dammit, woman!” Spike threw his spade into the grass. “Now you’ve given me the earworm!”

She laughed. On his own, Spike was easy to talk to. In fact, he was downright fun -- a rarity among hunters. His personality didn’t come through in the group.

A thought struck her. “So Spike, honest to God truth, why are you in Sunnydale? I mean, other than the Battle Royale.”

“I came for Buffy. I stayed for Buffy.” He said it with finality -- a giant red CASE CLOSED stamped on the file.

“Come on, man! She doesn't want you!” Heat rushed to Jo's face as soon as the harsh words tumbled out. “I mean, she doesn't seem to respect you. Even Xander is in charge of his own little goddess squad, and he's a joke of a hunter.”

“There’s the rub,” Spike whispered. He looked away from her, pretending to inspect something in the grass. “Couldn’t leave. Shouldn't stay.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Jo wasn’t sure what she’d come there for. Commiseration? Hard to wallow in their shared left out status if she couldn’t even admit to her feelings. “Look, my nerves are kinda raw right now, and you stepped right on it. I’ve pined, yeah. A lot. Not school girl hearts on the notebook sort of pining, but thinking that maybe, just maybe…” She shrugged, and bit her lip. She wasn’t ready to expose her most private dreams about Dean Winchester.

“It’s one thing to meet Dean’s perfect superhero girlfriend. It’s another to see them together. Romance movie kisses and soaring music. Happy for them. Sad for me. I want to throw confetti in the the air and then set it the fuck on fire, you know?”

Spike nodded, a far away look on his face. “I know. God, I know.”

Body duty was usually a lonely affair. Spike liked that aspect. Time to think, or in this case, chat. He hadn’t anticipated Jo crashing the party though, and she could only be crashing for one reason. So he pushed aside thoughts of the world’s end and flipped over his lonely hearts club card.

“I know. God, I know.” After gently setting down his bucket of expired-vessel, Spike stared up at the sky. Jo stared with him.

He pressed his hands to his lips a couple times, longing for a cigarette. “Thing is, I feel new, like some wobbly-legged deer. I didn’t want to be in charge of things until I felt in charge of me. You’ve seen me on good days, but I used to be a monster.”

Jo’s face twinged a bit at the word monster. She probably thought he was being dramatic. No one had told her, then. Blessed innocence.

He continued, more to the wind than to her. “I did terrible things. Sometimes I loved it. Sometimes, the evil pushed me aside, but I was running the show more than I'd like to admit. They may hold grudges, but I hold all the guilt.”

“Hunters are champion guilt-swallowers,” she said. “Kind of our thing.”

“Been doing a lot of thinking. What does guilt make a man? An alcoholic husk? A paralyzed thing? So I ‘ave to let the guilt go. I may ‘ave done terrible things in my past, but I’m better than that now. I’m brave and I’m brilliant.” He smile at her. His decision was made, and he felt good.

Jo knocked him playfully with her elbow. “You know, alcoholic husk is a time-honored retirement plan for our lot back home. Assuming we live that long.”

Spike didn’t plan on living that long. He just needed to stay in control until the end. “Recently, I’ve been thinking about leaving. ‘aving Dean ‘ere makes me ‘opeful, believe it or not. ‘e’s a git sometimes, but ‘e’ll look out for ‘er. She doesn't need me anymore.”

Hope was a thing riding in on a comet of Feathers. Spike didn’t think he needed a sign of such garish proportions. He knew what he needed to do.

“Make sure Dean gets that.” He pointed at the bucket. “Wants to do a proper send off.”

“Where are you going?” Jo asked as he started walking up the street.

“I’m going to ‘elp save the world.”

Buffy and Dean walked in silence, enjoying how their palms brushed together, the rhythm of their steps. She wanted to savor the moment -- walking beside him, the late morning sun drawing out the freckles scattered over his skin.

Once they turned a corner away from any prying eyes, she said, “I’m sorry about Castiel.”

Dean bit his lip, grief settling into his eyes. He stopped and drew her into his arms. Resting her head on his chest, she listened to the small hitches in his breathing as he processed the loss of his friend.

“He’ll be okay. Gotta keep reminding myself he’s not dead. He just has to find a vessel in a world without angel vessels.” Dean bit his lip, puzzling through his friend’s situation.

Buffy held him as tightly as she dared. “Where’s Gabriel? Why did Cas--”

“Gabriel’s dead. Long, trippy story. Cas, uh, he wanted to keep a promise.” Pain brimmed in his eyes.

“He wanted to bring you back to me,” she realized with horror and gratitude.

Dean nodded and resumed walking. The topic closed for now.

“How long was I gone?” he asked.

“Three weeks. How long was it for you?”

“Same.”

A knot in her stomach loosened. One of her many worries while he was gone was time passing faster for one of them, losing more years together.

“Things seem better with the girls,” he said.

Buffy shrugged. “They agreed I’m in charge.” “How generous.”

She’d thought a lot about the Potentials. Buffy had tried to be their Watcher, but that was too didactic. She’d tried to give them space, but that made her too aloof. Then she learned that she and all of the Slayers before her were prisons for a goddess.

Then it clicked.

Of course, Buffy had noticed how alienating power was. It bred controlling jealousy in others, as with the Watcher’s Council (and occasionally her friends). The Power made relationships difficult; most men were too delicate for her strength. The Power called for hard choices made quickly. The Power came with Duty, like an anchor around her neck, allowing her only the most narrow of paths: cut yourself off in order to save as many people as you can. It was the path nearly every Slayer had walked.

The Slayer was truly a golden cage everyone was scrambling to rule. A perfect prison.

She wondered if Hecate had shrieked the day Buffy decided to hang with Willow over Cordelia.

“They don’t have to like me,” she said. “They just have to follow me. I think we’re there. They’ve stopped second guessing me, at least.

“By the way, I’ve been staying at your place.” Buffy smiled at Dean, revelling in the comfort of him. “It was the closest I could get to you. My house just doesn’t feel like mine anymore, especially without you there.”

Dean kissed her hand. Her entire body buzzed with excitement.

They’d walked far enough to find themselves on the edge of the rich neighborhood. Dean let out a low whistle as they passed a starter mansion. “Forget your place or mine. We should have just moved over here.”

“Why not now?” she giggled, leading Dean by the hand into a gated pool.

They peeled back the pool cover before stripping. Her blouse, his button down. Her bra, his t-shirt. She paused before sliding off her pants to admire his broad shoulders, the way his powerful muscles rippled under his skin. He pushed down his jeans and boxers together, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning over his already stiffening length.

Dean dove in, a clean line of muscle and sex, only to bob up seconds later with a cry of excitement. “Woo! Colder than I expected.”

She dove in anyway, the chill shocking her. He was there, and she wanted to feel every inch of him against her, inside her. The most intimate they’d been in weeks was holding each other after she’d been possessed.

They swam toward each other, enjoying their weightlessness while their hands slowly explored each other’s bodies as if touching something rare and priceless. She wrapped her legs around his waist, happy with the familiar thickness of him between her thighs. Dean kissed her long and slow, gently sucking on the tip of her tongue, his fingers caressing her breasts. Each kiss felt like he was tugging on a string, unbinding her, setting her free.

His smile wide, he hoisted her up on the side of the pool and teasingly licked up her inner thigh. Clamping his arms around her legs, he buried his face in her. She could barely breathe as he traced circles with his tongue. Fingers twisted in his wet hair, she bucked against his mouth, her need increasing with each lap of his tongue. Soon, she arched her back and cried out as pleasure washed over her, wave after wave of missing him, of needing him. Her body still humming, she laid back in the sun.

Pushing himself up on the edge of the pool, Dean lay beside her, grinning, his arm draped over her stomach. “You look happy.”

Buffy sat up, pulling him with her. “I’m not done with you,” she purred as she pushed him onto a poolside chaise lounge.

Her body pulsed and pleaded to have him inside of her. She froze for just a second, the memory of the demon cackling that word -- baby -- reverberating in her brain.

“You okay?” Squinting at her, he shielded his eyes from the sun.

“Enjoying the view.”

She dropped to her knees. He could still fill her lungs, her hands, her mouth. Buffy placed her hands on his thighs, covering up his running list of the dead (a list soon to grow longer) tattooed there. Covering up the J. H.

Dean moaned softly as she took him in her mouth inch by inch. He grinned at her, his tongue caught between his teeth. She increased her pace, watching his lust-blown eyes until she stroked a shuddering oooo from his pink lips still glistening with her.

When they were both satisfied, Dean pulled her into his arms. They laid together on the lounge, the sun warming their skin, dreaming of an imaginary future. Buffy traced his tattoos with her fingers and idly tapped on his freckles. A pleased hum popped in her throat as he played with her hair.

“I was mulling over what you said the night before we left. You said the longer we’re together, the more you want.” Dean paused to kiss the top of her head. “I want that too, whatever shape it takes.”

Buffy propped herself up on her arm and looked him in the eye. His naive hope made her heart ache. Their future was too complicated. “But we can’t have that, Dean. When this is over, I go back to nightly patrols. Those are our nights out: killing vampires. The job hunt is going to start up again, and with that on my plate, I don’t think I can keep up with college. We don’t have the time for more.”

“Bullshit!” he said, his face pained. “The Watcher’s Council is dead, Girly. Who do you think makes the rules now?”

“I can’t abandon--”

“Who said anything about abandoning anything? The Council was in England, right? Now you got fifty plus girls in your house that need Watchers and training. You got Giles and Sam. I’m sure a few more will step up. Who says they have to go back to England? Who says the Potentials can’t get hands-on training doing patrols once a week? Who says all the fighting has to be on your shoulders all the time?”

It just sounded like more to handle. More to worry about. She’d been in such despair since the slaughter at the winery, she hadn’t thought about life after the Apocalypse. “Let’s lock up Lucifer, then plan for the future.”

Dean kissed her on the forehead. “Okay, darlin’. How about a present instead?”

He retrieved his duffel bag from where he’d dropped it by the gate. “Death said he was the one who reaped you both times. You wouldn’t leave the first time, when you drowned, but the second time you were happy to go.”

Anyone else would have deemed her suicidal to face death as she had, but Dean understood sacrifice.

“Anyway, he gave me something for you.” Dean unzipped his bag and pulled out a golden bow, the string fine like spider silk and glowing like silver, and a quiver of six golden arrows.

They were hers. Artemis’s. They were as familiar to her as her own reflection. The grip formed to her hand as if her hand had formed it. The tension on the string perfect.

Throwing Dean’s shirt over her nakedness, she dashed onto the front lawn. The former owners of a house at the end of the block had an affinity for yard decorations. Within a minute, she’d shot a fake deer, a small battalion of lawn gnomes. Seven shots, but there was still an arrow in her quiver. She pulled it out. One golden arrow in her hand, and one in the quiver. She raced to the end of the block to retrieve her arrows, and when she returned them to the quiver, there were six again.

Something inside her began to wake up.

next chapter

[my-muses-in-op]

You were missed

The evening was approaching and she was about to set anchor for the night, as she spotted it. The ship she’d been hoping to one day come across. People would think she was crazy for actually on purpose seeking out that ship, butshe had her reasons. It was a gamble, she knew. Esepcially since she had a bounty and was known as a former assassin. Some said she’d killed herboss and his everyonee in his organization, others said she’d destroyed a whole island. None of it was true, but it was enough to have people fleeinng from her, while others chased her.

Now that she had the ship in sight, she didn’t want to lose it, so she stopped preparing for the night. Instead she continued to sail, going straight for that ship. The night was quickly dawning on her, but she was close enough to see the shape of the ship, so she wouldn’t get lost. Or futher away. Sailing in the dark wasn’t recommended if you sailed by yourself.

As it was close to midnight, her small boat was next to the large vessel. She aligned it with it and secured her boat, so she wouldn’t drift off. It was too late to ask for permission to board the ship and talk to the captain. So she went to get a few hours of sleep.

The next morning - the sun had risen halfway over the horizon - she made contact with the crew belonging to the ship. She’d dressed in her best dark blue gargo pants, her boots had been shined up and she wore a purple top with a black jacket over. Her short hair was not as messy as usual, as she’d brushed it. She wanted to make a good impression on the captain, though normally she didn’t care much about how she looked.

She was granted her wish to meet upwith the captain and after an hour, she was allowed on board and led to his room. Along the way, the crewmembers jolted in surprised and confusion, their eyes following her and her guide, the latter chuckling amused. “You know, I would love for you to meet our cook in dim light. He’ll die for sure.”

That was an odd humor, though it did make her curious. However, she had to focus on the meeting ahead. It was important that it went well. The man she was seeking, had been searching for for a long time, was on this ship. She didn’t want to mess it up so close to her goal. “If it humors you and your captain, I wouldn’t mind meeting your cook in a dim light.” She guessed it had something to do with the man whom she was here for.

The giggling didn’t stop, even as they did. “He awaits you. See ya in a bit.” Her guide left her, after knocking on the door and a ‘come in’ was heard. Straigthing up, she opened the door and walked in.

Golden hues looked over her,before settling on her face. “Your wanted poster doesn’t do your justice at all. Now tell me, what can I do for you, Deadly Killer?” The voice sounding so calm and friendly, something she hadn’t expected, consider her reputation.

“Thanks for letting me onto your ship, captain Whitebeard. It’s a great honor to meet you in person, even if my goal is one of the men you call son.” Her voice was both humble and kind. “I’m here to meet Izo and hope you’ll grant me that wish.” She wasn’t going to dance around the table with her request.

“Gurararara.” Whitebeard laughed, amused by her bluntness. “You sure have some things in common with him, Ida. Yes he told me about you and he asked to have your wanted poster on our wall of infame. I’ll grant you your wish, because it’ll make him happy. You’re welcome to stay as long as you will, child.”

She smiled happily to him, feeling relieved. Izo hadn’t forgotten her, he’d even told his captain about her. That warmed her heart. A lot. She couldn’t help the single tear of joy that rolled down her cheek from a scarred eye. “Thank you. Even if you’re doing it for him, I am grateful and thank you from the bottom of my heart.” She bowed in respect, making him laugh again.

When she left the room, her guide was waiting. Whitebeard told him to bring her to the mess hall, as it was still too soon for Izo to even be ready for breakfast. It made her raise a brow, as she herself was a morning person. Shrugging, she followed herguide - Haruta was his name she learned.

As they came tot he mess hall, he asked her to stand in the hall, where the shadows would hide most of her features.As Haruta looked at her, he nodded. She looked like Izo in this light and it was the perfect setup for a prank. He entered the kitchen, asking Thatch to follow him.

The cook left the kitchen with Haruta, but stopped dead in his track, as he looked at Ida. He thought it was Izo and gulped. “I didn’t do it and I don’t know who did, so please don’t shoot me.” He rambled, making Haruta laugh. As his brother laughed, Thatch stared perplex at him, not seeing what was funny. Unless Izo had wanted to cut his hair...

Ida chuckled and that had Thatch snaphis head towards her again. Izo didn’t have such a girly tone and he definitely didn’t chuckle like that. “What is going on?” The cook was utterly confused. Ida moved from the shadows, amusement written all over her face. “Just some teasing. Hello.” She greeted him.

At this point Haruta was in tears and a crowd had gathered, most had been staring horrified at the scene, until she moved out from the shadows. Thatch stared perplex, lost for words. “Ah you must be Deadly Killer Ida. This is a great surprise. Come on, let’s have some breakfast while waiting for Izo. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you. I’m Vista.”

Thatch’s eyes widened, as he recognized the woman. Haruta dried his tears and put a den den away. “Oh. My. Sea Goddess. That was the best thing ever. A shame Izo missed it. Well, he can the the pictures later. Come on, Ida, let’s eat as vista suggeted.” The brown haired male said, grabbing her hand and dragged her into the mess hall.

Ida chuckled and followed gladly. Soon she was chattering away with Vista, Haruta and Rakuyo, while Thatch went back to the kitchen, once the shock and surprised had worn off.

She was entertained, hearing a few stories about Izo and life in general on this ship. More and more brothers had stopped and looked at her twice, making sure they saw right. She heard whispers of rumors, which had her chuckle inwards. Izo sure had this crew playing by his hand.

“What is this rumor about me turning into a woman with short hair?” A deep voice interrupted the chattiring and rumors that started to fly. Silence fell, the commanders looking from Ida to Izo, who’d just entered the mess hall. A scowl was upon the sniper’s flawless face, arms crossed, waiting for answers.

Ida rose and turned to face him, while speaking. “That would be my fault that this rumor started, brother.” Izo’s eyes widened and quickl he was in front of her, a hand was placed on her cheek. “Ida... Is this a dream?” He didn’t dare to hope it wasn’t. He’d dreamed about meeting her again so often that his heart broke a little whenever he woke.

“It’s not a dream. I’m really here and allowed to stay as long as I want to. Ifound you.” She said,placing a hand on his, brown hues looking into his. Izo stepped a little closer, wrapping his arm around her and pulled her into a soft embrace. “I can feel your warmth... You’re really here.” He whispered, holding back the tears.

She nodded and placed her arms around him. “I missed you.” The words were soft and barely audible, but he picked it up. He lightly kissed her head, a truly happy smile playing on his lips. “You were missed too. Every day.” He said softly. They had a lot to catch upon, but he knew she would stay until they know each other again. Maybe she would stay for good, depending on what her dreams were. Either way, he finally was reunited with his twin sister, who he had been sperated from since they were 7 years old.

[ishouldprobablybewriting]

Heavy Hitters- Chapter 6

Heavy Hitters: Outlaw Country pt 6, Interim.

Sara convinces an old friend to join the Waverider team- as research and tech guru only, or so she said. As the newbie struggles to adjust to the team and the team struggles to adjust to her, Sara is playing a different game all together. One the new girl might not like too much.

Fandom: Legends of Tomorrow (or Flash or Arrowverse since it’s Mick Rory, but specifically LoT)

Pairing: Mick Rory x Plus Size OFC (cause Mick totally likes thick ladies)

Word Count: 1220

Warnings: Language, tiny bit of angst, sexual suggestions

Tags: @sergeantjbuckybarnes @mother-forker @pattpattpatterson (thanks, guys so much for your support! I hope you dig the new chapter!)

Part one     |     Masterlist

A/N: I’m hoping to start updating this once every week. Unfortunately that means the chapters will be about this length or a little shorter. Or, if y’all prefer, I can do 3k word chapters every other week. Let me know!

Also, shout out to @adventuresofnight and @professionalunicorn400 for reblogging every chapter of this so far! You guys are great! Since ya’ll have been complete dolls, please message or ask me! I’d like to write something special for ya’ll!

“Sara,” another sigh, “Mick has an affection for fire, Amaya uses a totem, those two were fused thanks to some kind of bullshit science, Nate is a genetic anomoly, Ray is just really fuckin’ smart-” “And me?” Pause. Breathe. Hold. Release. “And you made the best of a really shitty situation that was completely out of your hands- multiple times.” Emily held Sara’s hands and gaze. “I’m a whole different ball game, baby.” Sara was reluctant to give up. “Just-” Unfortunately, Emily was just as stubborn. “Just, fucking think about it. Ok?” “Okay.”

Pluto whined softly as Emily turned over again. The ship had gone into its night cycle more than 4 hours ago and they were both still awake. More Emily than Pluto; of course, Pluto thought the answer was simple. Emily, not so much.

“Fuck it,” she sighed, throwing her covers back and slipping on her slippers. She sat on the bed trying to decide what to do. Emily settled on more research. Pluto huffed when she turned back to him. Emily smiled, “It’s alright, baby,” she ruffled the fur on his head, “You can stay here if you want. I’m just going back to the library. I’ll be back soon.”

He whined shortly but stayed in bed all the same.

She stepped softly as she shuffled down the dark corridor laughing inwardly at herself. The halls of the ship at night reminded her so much of a reoccuring nightmare and yet… This wasn't the nightmare. It wasn’t panic-inducing at all. The only anxiety she seemed to feel, in fact, was her own self-imposed anxiety that she lived with. Currently, it was mostly over her- the- crew finding the footage of her terrible inappropriate pyjamas.

Emily padded into the small library and turned on a lamp.  The Waverider library might no have been very extensive but it did house a long list of very rare and one-of-a-kind books. Some of those were right up Emily’s alley, too.  Including, the original 1743 Agrippa manuscript. She smiled genuinely as she gently pulled the rough, leather bound book from its place on the shelf. She settled into the cushioned chair and carefully oried back the soft cover. Emily curled up, pulling her feet into the seat and dove into the book.

The Agrippa was more than she had heard, more than she dared hope for when she first spied it on the overfilled shelf.

Emily lost herself to the pages of the book as if they had actually managed to enchant her. She lost track of time, of where she was, of what was around her, the slow constant hum of the ship phasing her into a trance within the manuscript.

She didn’t hear his heavy bare feet slapping along the hard floor, or smell the smoke that seems to follow him everywhere or even feel his intense gaze as he stood not ten feet away and stared at her.

“Didn’t know you could smile like that, Sweets.”

Emily jumped out of her skin, slamming the book closed and turning towards the towering pyromaniac, her fist tight and ready for a fight.

Mick raised an eyebrow at her, arms crossed against his massive chest. Emily blew out a long breath and smiled at him. “Shee-it, Mick,” she laughed, “You scared me half’ta death!”

He smirked down at her in response. Deep brown eyes roving up and down her body. He looked at her wide feet with chipped purple polish on her toenails, her strong calves with faint scars criss crossing them- he made a mental note to find out about those later- her thick thighs pressing against tight grey yoga shorts, a flash of color catching his eye when she shifted awkwardly. Her printed tee shirt was oversized and hung off of one shoulder a bit, her hair pulled up in a loose messy bun, exposing another flash of color and a few more scars, freckles dotting her skin here and there. He absolutely examined her. And said nothing. For an uncomfortably long time. Long enough that her smile faltered.

“What?” He’s going to ask. Of course, he is.

Mick pulled a chair from a table roughly and sat it across the desk from her. “I gotta know,”

Fuck, here it comes. Emily tried to swallow her apprehension.

“How the hell can you read that mumbo-jumbo and actually smile?”

That… was not what Emily was expecting Mick to ask. “Uh,” she blinked a few times, “I guess I just think it’s interesting.” She glanced at the book then back up at him. “You’ve never tried to read it, have you?”

“Nah, got better things to do,”

“Like what?” Emily challenged, meeting his eyes again.

That manic grin lit up his face, “Like burnin’ things, baby!”

Emily couldn’t suppress the smile or bubbly giggle she felt in her throat at his expression. “Well, if it was a book on fires, I’m sure you’d be all over it!”

“I dunno, Sweets. Depends on how graphic the pictures are.” She chucked at that too. Damn. Who knew I was this funny? “Cute laugh, ya got there.”

She stopped immediately.

Shit. Why’d you say that? Stupid.

“Um,” Emily shuffled nervously and tucked a stray strand of hair back into place trying desperately to ignore- and subdue- the burning on her face and neck without breaking eye contact. “Thank you. Can I, uh, help you with somethin’, Mick?”

“Nah, just saw the light. Figured I’d check it.” He made himself comfortable in the chair, slouching a bit.

“I see.”

“Yep.” Emily nodded and went back to her book while Mick stretched his arms behind his head and rested his eyes.

For a bit they were in a companionable silence. Emily resisted the urge to lose herself again. She was aware of Mick’s eyes on her this time.

He grunted and sat back up staring at her hard again. She met his eyes and straightened her back. “Hey, I gotta question for ya.”

“Sure. Whats up?”

“You and Blondie have a lot of secret conversations.”

“Yeah…?” Emily wasn’t excited about where this was going.

“So, y’all fuckin’?”

Emily sat in stunned silence for a beat. Then burst out in loud full bodied laughter. Not cute girly giggling, no. This was the ugly, snorting laugh hardly anyone heard.

Now, Mick sat in stunned silence.

“That's uh… that's quite a laugh…”

“S- sorry! It's just-” Emily struggled, “Do- do you honestly think my pussy’s that good, that Sara, of all people, would put me on a fuckin’ time ship?”

He cocked his head as he considered the plump woman in front of him. And how she would look against the lithe blonde captain. “Nah, I guess not. Not Sara’s style.” His predators grin slid across his face again, “So, how good is that pussy?”

Recognizing the challenge, Emily grinned too. “Fuckin’ magical.” She snickered at her own little joke.

“Huh.” He considered her for a few moments longer. She was opposite him in so many ways- soft where he was rough, kind in a way he couldn’t be. But Mick Rory knew a fire when he saw one. The question was only, just how hot does her flame burn?

“Alright then. Why are you here?”

Breathe. Hold. Release.  Emily bit her lip harshly but never broke eye contact. They deserve to know. I have to try, right? “I um…” she licked her lip tasting faint iron, “I’ve known Sara for a while. I’m what she likes to call a ‘90 minute player’. I’m… adaptable.”

Their stare down continued, vibrant viridans clashing against burning blues. “Ain’t done much yet, Sweets. Guess your time to ‘play’ ain't here yet.”

Emily’s blood ran cold. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught in her throat.

The chair screeched loudly in the stifling silence between them as Mick stood, his heavy footfalls echoing behind him.

Til next time, loves! Be kind to each others, and yourselves! 

[rory-the-rude-blog]

Task 001: The Devil is in the Details

((Trigger warning: Question 60 asks about self-harm.))

The computer screen lit up in front of Aurora, showing her her own face as picked up by the small camera. She looked bored - and what a coincidence, because she was bored. But this session was necessary, according to the medical staff. “To make sure your memory hasn’t been affected by the cryostasis,” one of the doctors had told her, like she was speaking to a child. What they didn’t say was that they were checking their psychological profiles again - because that had to be a factor, right? Space madness was not great for crew morale.

The screen changed. Her face was replaced by the Apollo Corporation logo, formed out of lines of code. Samson’s voice rang out clear from the speakers.

“State your name and access code.”

“Aurora Roth, Access Code 13122101. But you knew that already.”

Samson did not respond to her sass. ‘He’ only proceeded to explain the rules of the test. Respond as thoroughly as you can, so your answers can be compared to the results on your file. Do not purposefully lie. Do not answer ‘I don’t know’. 

“Are you ready to proceed? Only answer in the affirmative if you have understood the assignment.”

Aurora sighed. “Let’s get this s**t over with. Ready.”

Personal

1)      Age?

“Twenty-five. Twenty-six this December. No, I have not forgotten my own birthday.”

2)      Gender?

“Female. Cisgendered.”

3)      Romantic/Sexual Orientation?

“Not f**king interested. S**t, wait, I didn’t put that before. Fine then. Heterosexual.”

4)      Height?

“5′1, but tall enough to kick ass. Make a note of that, robot.”

5)      Race?

“Caucasian.”

6)      What do you look like?

“Christ, this is like a first grade homework activity. Um. F**k. How do I describe myself? I have light-brown-slash-dirty blonde hair that hangs just past my shoulders, with bitchin’ bangs. My eyebrow game is strong. I have blueish-grayish eyes. And I’ve been told I have resting bitch face. Good enough?”

7)      Any disabilities?

“The inability to suffer fools. It hinders me on a daily basis.”

8)      Is there a meaning to your name?

“My mother picked it. If there was ever a special reason why, she never told me. With her personality though, I’m just grateful I wasn’t named ‘Crystal’ or ‘Jewel’. Hey, are all these extra comments going to register negatively? Am I going to be told I have memory loss because I’m being a f**king chatterbox?”

9)      What makes you, you?

“I...? What??? F**k. I guess my sparkling personality? ... Hey, what do you mean ‘incorrect’?! That’s f**king rude. Is it my trucker mouth? I put my trucker mouth before, didn’t I?”

10)   What did you want to be when you grow up? What do you want to do with your life?

“... Be happy. And needed.”

Family

11)   Do you have parents? What are they like?

“Growing up, it was just my mom and I. Mom never really spoke about Dad - unless we were fighting, and then he was everything wrong with me. ‘You’re a demon, Aurora, just like your father.’ ... Yeah, I don’t hold out much hope for him being a nice guy.”

12)   Do you have siblings? If not, do you wish you had siblings?

“I’m an only child, and I liked it that way. I was pretty solitary growing up.”

13)   Extended family? Do you see them often?

“None. Again, pretty solitary.”

14)   Do you like where you live? Is it a safe place?

“Back on Earth, I lived in The Bronx. The neighbourhood could be pretty dodgy, but our apartment block at least had mild security. I could handle myself though. Do I like the Atlas-7? Sure, I guess.”

15)   Where do you live? Are they wealthy, poor or middle-class?

“Mom and I were lower middle-class. And now... do I get paid for this? S**t, I better get some kind of luxury for risking my neck out in space.”

16)   Do you have a lot of expectations or pressure on you from family to do great?

“From my mother? Hah, f**k no. I don’t know if she even knows I’m up here. ... I hope she does. I hope she’s proud of me.”

17)   Do you have pets?

“We never had the space for one. I would’ve loved a snake. Or a snapping turtle. Something mean-looking, like me.”

18)   Who do you look up to the most in your family? Are you close with them?

“Not really much of a choice when it’s just me and one other person, is it? I guess Mom and I were close at times. I have some good memories, at least. I drifted away a bit in high school, and, well, she never pulled me back. That’s that.”

19)   Is there anything special about your family?

“I come from a long line of psychics. I s**t you not. Some of my ancestors were spooky accurate with predictions.”

20)   Do you wish you lived in a different household?

“Nah. What’s the point of fighting the hand you got dealt? I made do with what I had, and it wasn’t all bad. It made me strong.”

Friends

21)   Best Friend(s)?

“A few good friends, but only one best. Matthew Reyes is, without a doubt, my best friend. He’s the one who inspired me to do this.”

22)   Who was your first friend?

“Matt, again. We clicked pretty quickly once we actually had a chance to interact.”

23)   What is your friend group like?

“Pretty f**king big. We were one of those groups that split off into different groups, and mixed and matched. There was my group - Matt, Nathaniel (Matt’s then-boyfriend and now-husband, and very sweet Latino boy), Jeanette (the eternal ball of sunshine), Vaughn (the mysterious one) and myself - and then the “popular” group - Evangeline (the ice queen), Benji (the jackass), Angela (the cool bitch), Gabe (the stoner-who-wasn’t-a-stoner-but-looked-like-a-stoner), Lavender (tailor aboard the Atlas-7. Never liked her) and her boyfriend, Will (the worst person alive). Despite our differences, we were pretty tight. Lavender and I managed to get all of the others aboard the ship as civilians. It’s one of the only nice things I’ve ever known her to do.”

24)   Do you have a love/hate relationship with any of them?

“I love Matt and Nate, and hate Benji and Will. Does that count?”

25)   Do you consider any of your friends to be like siblings?

“Matt is like my brother. I was one of the first people he came out to, and he was the first person to ever just accept me for me.”

26)   Have you ever hurt a friend or lost one?

“I’m sure I’ve hurt them plenty, but it’s not my problem. They know I’m blunt and honest. If they didn’t want to get called out on their bulls**t, they shouldn’t have f**king done it in the first place. Loss-wise... does having friends frozen in time count as losing them? Because I’m feeling that loss pretty hard.”

27)   Do you have a crush on any of your friends?

“God no. It was bad enough watching them all shack up with each other. I’d hate to actually be part of one of those relationships.”

28)   Do you share classes with good friends?

“We all used to have at least one class with each other - well, Matt, Nate, Jean, Vaughn and I did. The others were a year above us. They probably shared some classes.”

29)   Who do you go to the most when you need a shoulder to cry on?

“No one. I was the strong one of the group. I don’t really need anyone to share girly emotions with, since I’m 100% pure man.”

30)   What would you do without your friends in your life?

“Spend my days charting, navigating and mapping stars and other space matter, and my nights rooming with a treehugger.”

School

31)   Did you complete your school career?

“I finished high school and went on to college before joining the space program. I wasn’t studying anything special.”

32)   Did you like your teachers? Was there a good one? Bad one?

“Does anyone really like their teachers? I had a few average ones, one or two that didn’t quite click with my learning style, and a handful who I enjoyed. Same as everyone.”

33)   Did you listen to your teachers or were you goofing off a lot?

“I was a good student. I pick up a lot just by listening, so I tended to pay more attention in class so I could study less.”

34)   Were you a good student grade-wise?

“I was steady. Nothing to write home about, but nothing bad. Mostly Bs.”

35)   Did you need extra help?

“Nope. Matt and I used to help Nate with his English though. That was fun - and f**king hilarious too. I love Nate, but his English wasn’t bueno.”

36)   What was your school like?

“School was like school. I went to public school for a few years, then got into one of those psuedo-fancy academies for my later years of high school. We had one of those uniforms with the blazer-and-skirt combo. Blazers do not look good on short people.”

37)   Did you have bullies in your school?

“Every school has their s**theads, you know? And it’s always important to remember that anyone can be the villain in someone else’s story. I’m sure a few people would call me a bully - not that I ever actively went out of my way to be a bitch to someone. But not all bullies are the stereotypes you see on TV.”

38)   Have you ever gotten into a fight at school?

“Plenty. My crowning achievement was when I split Benji’s lip after he made Jeanette cry. For the next week, he flinched every time he tried that sleazy smile of his and made the wound bleed again. Good times.”

39)   Have you ever done something stupid or embarrassing at school?

“I was involved in Nate’s promposal for Matt. It... it was so gay. Was it embarrassing for me? Nope, I loved it. For Matt? That’s another story.”

40)   How far do you plan to go with school? Do you want to go back?

“I think I pretty much hit my peak. This is what I’m doing with my life now, and when we’re done and rehabilitated onto another planet? Well, who the f**k knows?”

Other

41)   Are you dating anyone? Do you want to date? Are you married? Divorced? 

“Jesus Christ, Samson, what are you, a trashy gossip mag? No, I’m single - always have been - and that’s the way I like it, thank you very much.”

42)   What is your favorite hobby? Do you keep it a secret?

“I like plotting the demise of my foes. No, seriously. I sit and think about ways to hurt people who’ve hurt my friends, in the privacy of my head. Is that a tad sociopathic? Maybe. Do I look like I give a f**k?”

43)   If you could have one thing in life, what would it be?

“Matt, happy and unfrozen.”

44)   Do you work?

“Do I work? Yes, dips**t, I’m a navigator. I didn’t forget the whole reason I was here in the first place.”

45)   Do you use social media?

“Nope. Never been interested.”

46)   Have you ever been in the hospital?

“Does when I was born count? If not, then no.”

47)   Do you believe in the supernatural, that there is more than the eye can see?

“Surprisingly enough, yes. Judge me if you must. I don’t care. My family have had ‘experiences’.”

48)   What do you do when you get angry, stressed, or upset?

“When I’m angry, I blow up. Punch things. Swear. That kind of thing. I don’t really get stressed, to be honest. And my ‘upset’ equates to my ‘angry’. No room for sadness here.”

49)   Would you consider yourself to be a good person, bad person, or morally grey?

“Chaotic good, maybe? Just because I’m rough doesn’t make me a bad person. I don’t know if I necessarily qualify as a ‘good person’ either. Morally grey, I guess.”

50)   Does this OC have any part of you in them? (I.e, personality traits, similar background, etc)

((OOC: Hahahaha. Aurora is probably one of the most opposite characters of my own personality that I play. We both don’t take bulls**t, and can be a bit confrontational, but she’s way more extreme than me. We both have great eyebrows though.))

Health

51) Have you ever been seriously injured?

“Surprisingly not. Some scratches and bruises from fights, but I’ve never broken a bone or anything.”

52) Any allergies?

“I’m severely allergic to bulls**t. Other than that, I’m allergic to nothing.”

53) Do you get sick often?

“Whenever I started coughing or sniffling as a kid, Mom used to give me this godawful herbal concoction. I think that disgusted my body into never being sick again. I had perfect attendance at school.”

54) Do you need to take medicine for anything?

“Luckily not. A few of my friends were on the pill for their sex lives or cramps or some s**t, but I was never one of them.”

55) Are you a hypochondriac?

“That’s a negative.”

56) Do you even like going to the doctors?

“Seriously, Samson? This s**t is on my file? No, I very rarely went to an actual doctor, so it isn’t something particularly dear to me.”

57) Do you brush off injuries or seek help?

“I brush them off. I’m tough, and I don’t want people worrying about me. That’s just how I’m built.”

58) Do you know first aid?

“Nope. If I’m your last chance, you’re f**ked, I’m afraid.”

59) Do you have health insurance? If so, how good is it?

“Didn’t really read the fine print, but I’m sure the crew has some kind of insurance. Not that we have to pay for any kind of treatment while we’re up here. It’s free real estate.”

60) Have you ever harmed yourself?

“No, Samson.”

Favourites

61) Favourite animal? Why?

“The honey badger, because it doesn’t give a s**t. Ravens are cool too.”

62) Favourite type of music? Why?

“Kelly Clarkson is a goddess, and all of her songs are cool, punchy ballads for cool, punchy chicks.”

63) Favourite place? Why?

“My bed. It beckons me into the sweet, sweet abyss of sleep, where I am free to do whatever I want.”

64) Favourite food or drink? Why?

“Matt’s mom used to make the best strawberry cheesecake. I’d sell a kidney to taste it again.”

65) Favourite type of clothing? Why?

“Knuckledusters, because they get the job done. Other than that, I like hoodies. They... make me feel safe.”

66) Favourite time of day? Why?

“3AM, when I am deep in the clutches of sleep. I don’t know. I don’t really have a favourite time. Things like that don’t matter to me.”

67) Favourite season? Why?

“Winter, when the outside world is as cold and grey as my soul. Plus you can live in your hoodie and people won’t give you weird looks for wearing a hoodie because it’s hot.”

68) Favourite story, be it from a book or something like a myth or fable? Why?

“I don’t like fairy tales. They’re unrealistic and make people act like idiots in the hopes of finding their ‘happily ever after’. That s**t doesn’t exist for everyone. I like stories where people get their comeuppance.”

69) Favourite thing to learn? Why?

“A bit of everything, I guess? I might not like people, but I like learning about them. I’m observant. I pick up on a lot. I like learning curse words in foreign languages too.”

70) Favourite scent? Why?

“Rose water and bad quality incense. It smells like home.”

World

71) Do you live on Earth or somewhere else?

“I lived on Earth. Now I have no real home except for a big metal spaceship.”

72) What time period do you live in? 

“Last I checked, it was 2038. Unless something got f**ked up along the way.”

73) Anything special about your world?

“The fact that it’s a spaceship is special enough, yeah?”

74) What are your world leaders like?

“I, for one, support our AI overlord, Samson.”

75) What is the state of your world like?

“Structured. Orderly. Routined. Let’s see how long that lasts.”

76) Do you wonder about your place in the world?

“No. I’m hardly the philosophical type. I’m more of an ‘in the now’ kind of girl.”

77) Is your world in contact with other worlds?

“Does Earth count as an ‘other world’ now that we’re not a part of it? If so, yes. If not, then no. No green squigglies have tried to probe us yet.”

78) What area of your world do you live in? 

“I live in the f**king Amazon Rainforest. No, Samson, I know we’re in space - it’s a f**king analogy. My room is super f**king humid because my roommate is growing her own plants. Doesn’t she have a whole farm lab for that? Christ.”

79) What is the wildlife like?

“By ‘wildlife’ I’m assuming you mean ‘men’. They’re big and lumbering. Or they drink. Nothing new.”

80) Do you have a religion or belief in a higher being?

“I’ve never believed in a higher being. Too much s**t happens in life for it to be part of some grand plan.”

Skills

81) Do you know how to fight?

“F**k yes. Please tell me there’s a demonstration needed.”

82) Can you drive? 

“Nope. Mom and I could never afford a car or anything like that. I used to walk everywhere.”

83) Can you swim?

“Yeah. We had swimming at school. I hated it.”

84) Are you handy?

“Relatively so. I’ve had to do a few DIY fix jobs in my life.”

85) How quickly can you learn something new?

“I taught myself everything I could about the stars and interstellar navigation in less than a year. So, pretty f**king quickly, I’d say.”

86) Can you speak more than one language?

“Fluently, no. But I can hold a basic conversation in Spanish. Gracias, Nathaniel.”

87) Can you read and write?

“I, indeed, can.”

88) Do you have any survival skills?

“Survival like camping? F**k no. Survival as in protecting myself on the streets? F**k yes. I’m pretty good at self-defense.”

89) Can you cook?

“A few basics. I used to make lunch for myself a lot. It wasn’t anything special though.”

90) Any unusual or unique skills? 

“Did I mention previously that I’m slightly psychic? Because that’s unique. I have way too many premonitory dreams for it to be a coincidence.”

Other II

91) Do you believe in destiny and fate? Do you think it can’t be changed?

“There’s no such thing as fate. It’s an excuse people use to be lazy, or to explain away s**tty things. Situations can always be changed if you get your ass into gear.”

92) Do you have any regrets?

“No use crying over spilled milk, hey Samson? I am who I am. I’ve done what I’ve done. No regrets.”

93) What do you fear the most?

“Letting my friends down.”

94) Do you believe in love at first sight? Soulmates? That love never dies?

“None of the above. There’s no such thing as ‘true love’. People waste way too much time and energy deluding themselves otherwise.”

95) Can you play an instrument?

“Nope, I have next to no musical talent.”

96) How messy is your room?

“I’d prefer it to be tidy, but apparently my f**king roommate has already decided otherwise. There’s nature junk everywhere.”

97) Can you dance?

“Yes. Take that secret to your grave, Samson.”

98) Do you like to meet new people? Do you like people in general?

“No, and no. I’m not what you’d call a people person. Being frozen for ten years hasn’t changed that.”

99) Are you hopeful for the future?

“I suppose? I’m not getting my hopes up or anything, but, I mean, this mission has to succeed..... right?

100) Why did you make this OC and maybe even the world they live in? Just cause? Or for some other reason?

((OOC: Aurora is one of my most refreshing characters, simply because she is just absolutely 100% unapologetically herself. She’s always been quietly self-sacrificing - so what better position to put her in than in space, where she could quite literally sacrifice her life for her friends? She’s a lot deeper than you think. I look forward to sharing her with everyone.))

[running-on-fanfiction]

Sidney Crosby - Do you regret it?

Hey I was that anon that asked if you wrote smut so I will request one now haha! Could you do one about Sidney Crosby where you start a job with the penguins (reporter or something like that lol) and you guys become good friends and there's a lot of flirting and stuff but you guy try so hard to never cross the line because both of you are in relationships but then one night at a party (or some penguins event) you guys end up kissing and then ultimately end up having sex? Thanks girly! :)

Author’s Note: I changed it up a little. I also made a girlfriend up, just because I don’t like using real ones. Enjoy! -Julianne

Being a reporter for Steelers, and Pirates was something you had always dreamed of. You grew up in a house full of sports. You were never good at any, but that never stopped you for enjoying them. The best part of your job was meeting all the players you had grew up watching on the t.v. that and getting to be around all the beautiful men. Perks, right.

You had just gotten in your car when your phone binged. It was a text from your younger  brother Jayk who happened to play for the Pittsburgh Penguins.

“Make sure to get my good side. ;)”

Odd text you thought. Why, would I be getting his good side? Was this meant for someone other than you. You were about to call Jayk, when your phone rang. It was your boss.

“Y/N, good news! You are assigned to the Pittsburgh Penguin for the next three months. The whole works. You will be traveling with them on every away game and I need you at every home game. I have all the other details once you get settled. This is a good step, if they like you, you will no longer be part time.” Your boss cheeried.

“Wow! This is better than good, it’s great! When do I start?”

“Tonight. I’m going to need you to go in about ten just to meet the team and what not. Just tell them my name when you get to the door. They have everything you need. Good luck. Call me if you need anything.”

You clicked ended on the call before doing a happy dance in your seat. The smile was plastered on your face the whole car ride to your boyfriend’s house.

You and Blake had meet during a Pirate’s home game. It was a bat boy and he almost got fired that day. He kept looking at you that every time a ball came his way, he ignored it. He asked you out that day after his warning from his boss and you two have been dating for three years now.

Blake opened the door just as you were pushing your key in the keyhole. He had just gotten out of the shower. His blonde wavy hair was laying in his eyes, a towel wrapped around his waist. He smiled as he placed a kiss to your lips, pulling you into his house.

“No, don’t go. Stay in bed with me.” Blake whined as you  pulled on your underwear and shorts.

“I can’t. I have to be at the arena at ten.” You said pulling your shirt over your head.

“But, I’m cuter.” He pouted.

“Yes, you are, but you don’t pay for my car, sooo.” You joked. “How about you come to the game with me tonight. I’ll wear those jeans you like.” You winked as Blake pulled you closer to his lips.

“I’ll pick you up at 7. Go kick some ass.” He said kissing you. “Love you my big reporter.” He smiled.

“Love you my bat boy.”

Big. That was the word that popped in your head when you first stepped into the arena. If it wasn’t for the guy that was taking you too the team’s locker room, you were sure you would have gotten lost. You saw the big Penguin logo on the locker room door and you felt the need to throw up. The guy knocked on the door, before talking to the guy on the other side.

“You can go in now.” The guy said before turning to leave.

“Thank you.” You said before stepping inside the room. The guy at the door smiled at you before yelling at the guys around the room to sit down.

“Team, this is Y/N. She is your new reporter for the next three months. Get use to her face because she will be at every game.” The door guy who’s name you found out was Jim.

Some of the teammates came up and said hello to you but the one that stood out the most was the Captain, Sidney Crosby. He was cute and charming. You two locked eyes, a smile on both faces.

“SIS!” Jayk said breaking the stare.

“Look at you. This must be your bad side.” You joke as Jayk hugged you.

“Haha. Funny.” He smiled.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You smoothed your shirt making sure you were just perfect for the camera. The Pens won 4-0 and that meant it was interview time. You had interview most of the team, but had one more. Sid. The room was empty beside your crew, you, and Sid. Your crew had to get some more tapes from the car, leaving only you and Sid in the room.

“Nice, game tonight.” You smiled taking a seat in your brother’s stall which was across from Sid’s.

“Thanks.” He smiled. “It helped having a pretty girl watching.” He joked as he winked at you. Making you blush.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ It had been a whole month already, with the Pens and you felt part of the family already. Malkin, was playing pranks on you like he did the team and they even asked you to team drinks, dinners, and parties. You even had a flirting bit with Sid, now. After, all you both were taken.

Malkin was having a dinner party for everyone, including you. You and Malkin had became best friends in the short amount of time. There, wasn’t much you two didn’t talk about.

“Where’s bat boy?” Sid smiled as he sat down next to you on the couch.

“Hey!” You smiled. “He’s in New York with the team. Where Carla?” You asked.

“Carla, is on a friends trip in Spain and Italy. Hey, do you wanna go for a walk?” Sid asked.

“Sure.” You smiled getting off the couch.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“So why is Blake with the team? Don’t they have their own bat boy’s in New York.” He asked as you two walked along the small pond.

“He works the dugout on away games.”

“Hmm, that sounds nice.” He giggled.

“So, how long is Carla away for?” You asked sitting on a rock by the pond. Sid took a seat next to you before answering.

“Two weeks or so. She left last night. It’s kind of nice to have the house to myself.” He laughed.

You two sat there for awhile just watching the sunset. It was a nice, to get away from the craziness inside for a bit.  You were about to say something when you caught Sid looking at you. You opened your mouth to say something but were cut off by Sid’s lips.

You knew it wasn’t right, but it felt right. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he laid you down on the grass. The next thing you knew both your clothes were off and Sid was holding your naked body.

“That was amazing.” He huffed as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

“It was better than amazing.” You laughed as you kissed him.

As you pulled away Sid’s phone went off. He untangled his naked body from your’s and grabbed his phone. He pressed the green button and spoke.

“Hey Carla.” He looked over at you with sad eyes, and that when it really hit you. You two just cheated. You felt the need to puke. You threw your head to the side and puked. It wasn’t until you felt Sid’s hands on your body that you started to cry.

“No. No. No!” You yelled standing up to place your clothes back on.

“Y/N.” Sid started.

“No! This..us...god. I have Blake and you have Carla. What does that mean!? Oh god, why did I not say no.” You cried grabbing your shoes and walking back towards the house.

You could hear Sid call your name, but you didn’t stop. It wasn’t until you got to your car that Sid caught up.

“Please, let me leave Sid.” You said as you tried to peel his hand off your car door.

“I don’t regret what just happened, Y/N. I need you to know that. I love you.” He said a crack in his voice.

“I have to go, Sid.” You said not looking up at him.

As you closed the car door you heard Sid said one more thing.

“Do you regret it?” His sad eyes looking into the window.

It felt like the longest ride home. Everything replied in your head. The kiss. The feeling of him inside you. The fight. And the last words he said. Did you regret what happened? You pulled into your driveway and hit your steering wheel.

“FUCK!” You yelled. “I don’t.” You said wiping your tears.

You made your way inside the house only to see a light on in the living room. Panic filled you, you grabbed a candle holder and made your way slowly in the living room.

“Hey baby!” Blake smiled. “I came home early to-”

“I slept with Sid.” You said fast.

-Julianne  

[aloserwaitingtobeseen-blog]

Red face, Red Clothes - Evan Hansen x Reader

REQUESTED

Idea: Evan x Reader where they’re putting on a production of Heathers, but Evan plays Heather Chandler

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.5k

Most school productions were a way of bringing students together and encouraging them to work in order to create a great product. Although this didn't work as no one was enthusiastic about it. Usually, they were a lost cause and not even parents enjoyed the performance. Now it was coming closer to December which meant it was time for the Christmas production. Often not many people would audition or even show up to support. However, this year it was different. It was encouraged for everyone to take part in some way but of course, many students flat out refused and argued with the teachers.

Evan wasn't one to argue with teachers so had to sign up despite not being too keen on it. He was one of the only few boys who had signed up as many thought drama and theatre were 'girly'. Evan was hoping to just be apart of the backstage crew, but one of the drama teachers told him he had to have one of the main roles because there were so few boys. The production this year was Heathers; Evan knew nothing about it and only just found out it was a musical and not a play. That information didn't help him feel confident of taking part but did know there were a lot of male roles which only had a few lines and ensemble lyrics. So, he safely assumed it would be a simple role with some lines and nothing too out there. But he was very wrong.

He was cast in a female role, which Evan wasn't particularly bothered about, the thing that bothered him was the fact that it happened to be an important character. Evan Hansen had to play Heather Chandler. Also, he was the only boy the be cast as one of the Heathers. One of them got cast as JD and the other two as Ram and Kurt. And, Evan had exactly two days to mentally prepare himself before the first rehearsal and he wasn't sure what to do.

Those two days passed by too quickly for Evan's liking. Heading to the drama studio he could feel his nerves swimming around in his body making him uneasy. When he entered the studio he didn't expect quite as many people to be present. All the cast members were handed copies of the script and he was not aware of how many pages there were. Evan quickly flicked through a few pages and bit his lip as he read some parts. His character sure was interesting, to say the least. The rest of the rehearsal was spent with everyone doing a read through of the lines in the first couple of scenes. Evan realised that he really would have to act in order to portray the character.

The next rehearsal was practising the songs and surprisingly most people were fairly good singers, which was a relief. Evan wasn't confident in his singing ability, but his voice didn't sound awful. The singing teacher encouraged him that with a little practice his voice would be better. Singing the songs made Evan deeply question the story of the musical and was not sure how it was high school appropriate. Although, it seemed as if he was the only one against the idea of it.

For the next three weeks, Evan attended rehearsals and read his lines over at home. He even began humming the tune of the songs around his house and at school. With only a week left until production night, it was time for the first dress rehearsal. Half the studio was covered in clothes racks which were littered with an arrange of clothes of varying colours. Evan was quickly directed to a corner where an assortment of red coloured clothes hung from a rail. Soon a very smiley person walked his way wearing all black and a backstage crew shirt. You quickly introduced yourself to which Evan responded with a soft mumble of his name and a nervous smile. Humming you looked him up and down before checking the notes you had been given for the costume. Laughing lightly you grabbed a white shirt and red cardigan off the rack and placed them down in front of Evan. Your fingers filed through some clothes that were piled up on some boxes, long patterned socks sat near the top which you tossed over to him. Evan watched intently as you scanned through the clothes. Making a sound of delight, you handed him the final piece of the costume. His eyes widened in horror and confusion as he noticed the tartan skirt in your hands. "Do I have to wear that?" Evan questioned nervously, the rest was fine but he did not think wearing a skirt on stage was going to help his anxiety at all. Folding your arms across your chest, you nodded at him. A smirk lightly danced on your face as his cheeks flared up a dark rose colour; it matching the character colour scheme perfectly.

Reluctantly Evan wondered off to go get changed. Luckily everything seemed to fit perfectly; the skirt was slightly tight but this actually made him feel more comfortable as he knew it wouldn't fall down. Walking back out Evan fiddled with the edge of the skirt not sure how he felt about it. Upon seeing the boy you wolf whistled causing his face to again turn a bright shade of crimson. "Here are the shoes you need to wear and don't worry you look great." You told him with a wide smile. He muttered a sheepish thank you and put on the pair of black pumps. The rest of the rehearsal was fine, they managed to go through the entire performance with only a few minor slip-ups. Evan felt a little self-conscious stood next to the two girls playing the other Heathers but was glad he wasn't wearing heels like they were.

A week rolled by pretty quickly and Evan wasn't sure if he was ready for it but at the same wanted to get it over with. The one thing he was happy about was the fact that his mum couldn't make it because of work; the last thing he needed was for her to take pictures of him in his costume. Everybody taking part in the production got the whole Friday off to practice and make things perfect. Nervous energy buzzed around the drama studio as it grew closer to 6 pm.

It was 5:55 pm. Evan felt like he was going to throw up and couldn't tell if it was just nerves or the skirt band digging into his stomach. You had the very interesting job of checking that everyone was here and in costume. Making your way around behind the stage you lazily ticked everyone off the list before finally getting to Evan. Placing a tick next to his name, you then placed the clipboard on one of the set boxes close by. He smiled softly at you as you checked over his costume making sure it was all sorted out. You tutted lightly and shook your head which caused Evan to furrow his eyebrows at what he did wrong. "The skirt needs to be shorter." You announced, Evan laughed hoping you were joking but when you didn't laugh with him he gulped loudly. Moving closer to him, you undid the cardigan which revealed the shirt tucked into the skirt. Grabbing the elastic rim, you folded it over a couple of times causing the hem to rise up his thighs. Smiling brightly, you stepped back allowing him to button back up the cardigan. A stage manager loudly called for some of the cast to go wait by them in order to be cued on stage; which included Evan. "Go get 'em hot stuff." You stated with a wink and a light push of the shoulder. Evan promptly ran off with a hot face.

The show went amazingly, there were a few mess ups with lines but nothing too noticeable. As soon as Evan came off the stage you were right there and brought him into a warm hug whilst praising him on his performance. The boy was so easy to make blush and clearly wanted to get out of the outfit. "How about some celebratory ice cream, my treat." You proposed, Evan smiled and nodded, grabbing his hand you began to pull him out of the studio. "Wait, can I get changed first?" Evan pleaded to try to stop you from leading him away but not wanting to let go of your hand. Your eyes flickered back over what he was wearing and smiled at how well he pulled it off. "I don't know, I do I like you wearing this." You teased, his face flashed embarrassment before going into a sad, puppy pout. Sighing in defeat you pushed him to the changing rooms to make him happy. You both knew it would be the start of something beautiful.

[neonnihilism]

kneel on my arrival. 

chapter one.

The Vagabond is shoving Gavin against the wall enough to wind him by the time Gavin can open his mouth. As he struggles to breathe, mouth wide open, eyebrows drawn together, the Vagabond is already starting to leave the bathroom. When his foot is out of the threshold of the room, he stops and looks at Gavin. He points at Gavin. His hands go straight in front of him, one palm facing up, one facing down. He turns them.

He’s signing at Gavin. He signed ‘you’re dead,’ to Gavin.

Gavin is still breathing hard, but he manages to fingerspell ‘ASL,’ raise his hand to his head, almost in a salute. Then he drops his hand to a ‘y.’ His eyebrows are raised. You know sign language?

The Vagabond looks stunned immediately. Gavin can’t revel in it for too long, because he’s already gone. Gavin sinks to the floor, chest heaving. The communication device in his ear crackles. “What happened?” Geoff’s voice isn’t the best quality, but Gavin understands. He presses a button on the device and clears his throat.

“The Vagabond knows sign language.”

“Does he know you know it?”

“I doubt he did before, but, now he definitely knows.” Gavin stopped talking after that, instead standing up and beginning to walk out of the bathroom. If the Vagabond didn’t know Gavin knew sign language, why use it? He shrugged it off, questions could come later, right now he should get ice on his back. Caleb might laugh at him for that, but anything for relief. Gavin looks around the club for his masked little friend, but of course, there’s no sign of him. Before he leaves to the penthouse, he orders the strongest drink they have. It never hurts to drink.

After he sleeps the hurt off, Gavin sits down to do research. All the notes he has of the Vagabond, the man they’ve been chasing for months, the man whose face has never been seen, are extremely vague. The man wears a mask 24/7, how can there be any notes of him. There’s newspaper clippings of his crimes, his height, build, abilities, allies (or lack thereof,) even what car he drives most of the time (armored kuruma.) But nothing of note, nothing of eye color, hair color, or frequent dive bars. What can Gavin do?

Gavin goes back to the club the next day. Though as much as he wants to, he doesn’t order the drink he got last time. Instead, he gets a girly drink that’s so pink he forgets there’s alcohol in it. When a drink comes his way, he smiles politely and refuses. Does the same when the guy who bought the drink for him comes his way as well.

There’s obviously no Vagabond here. It should be obvious since no masked men here are making people run screaming out of the building. By the time Gavin is 5 seconds from walking out of this building defeated, someone puts their hand on his shoulder and leans in close. “Can I get you a drink?” said the disembodied voice.

The voice is deep, but a pleasant deep. A light lilt at the end. Gavin is ready to turn him down.

Up until he turns.

The first thing he notices is his eyes. They’re remind him of Geoff’s eyes, with how blue they are. When Gavin finally pulls his eyes away from them, he’s already saying yes to the drink.

“Anything specific? I, uh, don’t actually drink. So, I don’t know what’s good.” The guy was smiling shyly. “I didn’t think you would say yes.”

Gavin is adopting a mask as quickly as he can. He’s smiling enough to make his cheeks hurt and leaning forward into the guy’s space, under the assumption of not being able to hear. “I’ll take whatever you want to give me.” When he pulled away, he winked at him. “What’s your name, anyway? I’m Gavin.”

He laughed and flagged down the bartender when she walked by. “Sex on the beach, please.”

“Take me out for dinner first.” Gavin had his chin in his hands, looking at the mystery man as he ordered. “I want the orange slice on it, too.” The bartender nodded and went off.

“My name is Ryan.”

“Hi Ryan.”

When the drink was set down in front of them, Ryan offered it to him. As long as Ryan doesn’t touch it, Gavin should have nothing to worry about. He grabbed it and took a sip of it. Gavin hummed. “You sure you don’t drink? This tastes delicious.”

Ryan smiles and orders a diet coke for himself.

He doesn’t seem the best at small talk, but Gavin likes to think that his eyes make up for it. And his hair. And his build. Gavin takes a few seconds to appreciate his build specifically. He obviously had the bulk of someone who lifted weights, and Gavin wanted desperately to lift his shirt to see if he was lean or not. Gavin actually hoped he wasn’t lean. Maybe Gavin had a type, or just maybe Gavin is accidentally attracted to all men with a certain body build. And maybe it was the alcohol in his blood that made him put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder to turn him and ask-

“Do you have a dad bod?”

Gavin doesn’t remember much, because after his question and Ryan’s subsequent laughing fit that attracted a lot of attention and lasted for far too long, he ordered even more sex on the beaches. Around his 4th one is when the night started getting blurry. All he could remember was talking to Ryan the whole time. About where they grew up, siblings, schooling, and jobs. Ryan is an animator at a large studio and if Gavin was just a little more sober, he would have asked about his current projects. Gavin racks his brain for an answer that isn’t quite a lie and comes up with ‘I run a company with a few friends,’ and a smile. Who knows what this guy knows about the Fake AH Crew. Hopefully nothing.

Then Gavin wakes up at home with no idea how he got there. His phone is dead and surprisingly sticky with a sweet syrup. He hooks it onto his charger and goes back to sleep, until his phone wakes him.

Geoff’s name is on the screen. When he raises the phone to his ear, Geoff’s voice is crackling.

“You dumbass. Oh, you’re dumb and you suck.” He’s laughing and Gavin just pulls the phone away from his ear. It was too loud and Gavin is too hungover for everything to exist near him.

“How did I get home?”

“You called an uber. You kept ringing the penthouse to let me in.”

Gavin hummed into the phone. “At least I didn’t die.”

“Oh yeah. That’s the important part.” And then he hung up, leaving Gavin in the silence of his bedroom. He starts going through his phone, trying to find any evidence of the night before. Then, he realizes he has a text from yesterday.

Unknown:

Hey, It’s Ryan. Hope you’re safe.

Somehow, Ryan got his number. He can only assume he gave it to Ryan when he was drunk.

Gavin:

yeah i just woke up. hungover as all hell though haha

He gets a text from Jack telling him to come upstairs for breakfast after that. Leaving his phone in his room, he goes up to eat it before Geoff comes back from wherever he is and eats Gavin’s share. Jack is already sitting at the table, eating, by the time he’s in the kitchen.

“So, what happened last night?” Jack asked.

“I would tell you if I knew. But I don’t. Actually, I met this guy! He’s really fit, and he has a dad bod. The last thing is yet to be proven, though.”

Jack is laughing at him when Geoff comes in. His first stop is Gavin’s plate, from which he takes a huge bite out of Gavin’s pancakes.

“Gavin was telling me about his dream conquest.”

“You should have heard him last night. Wouldn’t shut up about Ryan, Ryan, oh Ryan is so lovely.” Geoff’s mock accent hurt Gavin’s hungover ears just as much as his sober ears.

“Oh, come off it, you have no proof that happened.”

“Buddy, believe me, if I had proof you would never hear the end of it.” Geoff cackled.

They ate breakfast together, as always. But Gavin only thought about the man at the bar. Ryan’s eyes were so beautiful, enough that they still captivated Gavin hours later. By the time Gavin could get away from Geoff and Jack, he was running to check his phone.

But there was nothing. No notifications, no messages from Ryan, nothing. Gavin isn’t going to hide his disappointment. So, he throws himself onto his bed and spends most of the day coding stupid scripts.

When night comes, he finally stops. He’s made enough viruses and plug-ins to last a lifetime.

Gavin lies in his bed and begins chasing a pipe dream, that if he goes back to the club, he’ll see Ryan there.

He’s halfway through with dressing when he realizes how stupid that it. Halfway to the club by the time he realizes he shouldn’t go. He’s already there when he realizes how stupid he is. Now he’s already inside the club, walking around. First, he sits at the bar. Ryan isn’t there, he quickly realizes, but he can still order a drink or two to pass the time and watch the door. Nothing. An hour of nothing. So, he hops down from the barstool. He wanders to the dance floor, only half heartedly swaying to the music. A few people come and try to dance with him, but he’s not a very responsible dancer right then, so they leave.

About half an hour of rotating people goes by, when Gavin’s thinks he sees something- or rather- someone- in the distance. He’s not rational enough to stop himself from chasing after it. The person must have realized that Gavin was after them, because they started walking away- and fast. Gavin’s impulse only heightened. Whoever it was did not want Gavin after them, so Gavin went after them harder.

They were tall and broad, stomping their way through the venue. But, Gavin was light and fast. He wasn’t quite as tall, a few inches shorter, but he still had enough height to see over the crowd. They took a sharp left into a hallway and Gavin was right behind. It was dark, but not dark enough that he lost sight. Couldn’t see the face. Just the rough outline of them.

Gavin bit his tongue not to scream when they grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a room off of the hallway.

It was painfully bright in there. Mirrors everywhere. Bathroom.

Whoever it was threw Gavin to the opposite side of the room, so he’s far from the door. But they don’t seem to want to get any closer. When Gavin has recentered himself and isn’t falling over his own feet anymore, he’s in a defensive stance.

Vagabond. Tall imposing silhouette. Leather jacket. Mask. He can’t see anything under the mask from far away, and he doesn’t even know what to imagine under it anyway. His shoulders are broad, head down to look at Gavin.

During their last encounter, he had signed at Gavin. That must be why he pushed Gavin in here, to see his hands. He’s in here to talk. Hopefully.

Gavin raises his eyebrows and signs to the Vagabond. “You pulled me in here to talk?”

The Vagabond nods his head.

“Why do you sign if you wear the mask? It covers the expressions. How do I know If you’re asking a question?” Gavin points at his own raised eyebrows. It’s probably stupid to ask someone anything when they could kill you with their own two hands, easily.

“Stop.” He signs. Gavin doesn’t.

“What about the mask? How do you see through it enough to see my hands?”

“Stop.” Again. Gavin does this time. “Why are you here again?”

“Is that a question? I can’t tell.”

The Vagabond reaches inside his jacket. Gavin wants to pretend he’s not scared of what he’s going to bring out, but he is. Geoff and Jack don’t know where he is, they could still think he’s in his room.

It only gets worse when what he pulls out is a gun. Completely black and it looks heavy. The safety clicks off, but he’s still pointing it at the ground. Of course, Gavin has had guns pointed to his head before, so one pointed at the ground isn’t bad. But the Vagabond is taking a few steps closer to Gavin. Vagabond is raising the gun. The muzzle is pointed a few inches away from his hip. But he’s still keeping his distance. Like he doesn’t want to be to close to Gavin.

With a gun, he doesn’t even have to be close to kill him, though. Sadly. If he had used knives, Gavin might have had a chance.

The next few seconds feel like slow motion.

The Vagabond points the gun at his head. He takes a step closer. He pulls the trigger.

[lilithhawthorne]

Title: Blood of the Brotherhood Fandom: Mass Effect: Andromeda  Relationship: Sara Ryder x Jaal Rating: M Chapter: 2/? Fandom: ME:A Cross posted on A03 / FFN First // Previous / Next

Huge shout out to @thesassblr for editing and helping to turn some of my weird sentences into real words! 

Snippets of conversation invaded her dreams.

“This is not going as planned.”

She was lost in a cave, or maybe it was a never ending series of tunnels designed to keep her angry and confused. The floor was slick and spotted with puddles, making it difficult for her to keep her footing. The sounds of her feet sloshing as she searched for a way out echoed all around her.

“It was a bad plan to begin with.”

Should she go left or right? Hadn’t she been down this tunnel before? It was dark and she was cold. Her suit had been stripped away piece by piece, leaving her shivering in her thin, Initiative issued uniform. Out of the corner of her eye she tracked the movement of her crew as they followed her. They ghosted through walls or fell through the ground if she tried to reach out to them.

“I told you this was a bad fucking idea,” Liam said. His lips moved out of synch and he smiled.

“And I told you to stand down! If she dies, I swear…“ she couldn’t understand what else Drack meant to say, his words trailing off into a series of elaborate threats.

“She’s not going to die. Thankfully you’re a terrible shot, but you all are driving me mad. I’ll call you as soon as she wakes.” Lexi tapped away at her data pad, not bothering to look up. “That’s it, Ryder,” she cooed, “you’ll be just fine, just fine….”

Darkness and silence welcomed her back into their midst.

Ryder raised a hand to block the light shining in her face.

“Aaaaand she’s awake! Easy now - here, let me help you up.” Rough, cold hands slipped under her arm, helping her to sit up despite the cramp that numbed her right side.

It took a moment for her to adjust to the light, and sitting up straight was a stomach clenching experience in nausea. She counted footsteps as they receded, trying to pull herself out of a fog that clouded every sense. Once the world stopped spinning and she could think beyond her rolling stomach, she assessed her surroundings with a shrewd eye.

First, she noticed how small the room was; crates and boxes were stacked all the way to the ceiling, with some tipped on their side to fill every inch of space. It was an organized mess, everything arranged specifically to leave the center of the room clear.

Second, she noticed the door, only a few strides away from the foot of the cot she was sitting on. The light was green, the hum of power flowing through it just barely audible in the silence.

Third, she noticed the smell and gagged immediately. Her already rolling stomach pitched in protest. It was a thick, ripe smell that was cloying in its overwhelming power. It reminded her of boot camp, about three weeks in, when the smell of everyone’s rank bodies had saturated itself into the walls of the bunker.

Someone laughed, a high pitched laugh that made Ryder think of a storybook princess. “I’m sorry, you’ll get used to it eventually. It always smells like that.”

Ryder swiveled her head to search for the owner of that musical laugh. She locked onto the tail end of a thick, blonde braid and followed it up to the source. A woman stood with only her profile visible, her face intently studying a terminal, her fingers moving tapping a rhythmic pace against the keyboard. Her foot tapped in tune to an unheard song.

Wearing her best stink eye, Ryder cleared her throat, hoping to warrant enough attention that the woman looked at her. All she got was a raised eyebrow and a slight head tilt. “I’m listening,” the woman assured her.

When sulking in the silence warranted no additional response, Ryder gave up and asked a neutral question: “Where am I?”

“You are in my office slash operating room slash med bay.” The woman laughed again and finally turned to face Ryder. Her cheeks and nose were red, like she had recently given them a good scrub and accidentally took a little more off than just dirt. And while her broad shoulders gave a hint of what she used to look like, she had long since withered away, her arms and legs too long and spindly, her collarbone prominently displayed in a loose fitting tank top.

Despite herself, Ryder found it easy to relax in the warmth of those brown eyes and couldn’t help but return the woman’s toothy smile.

Then she remembered the way Jaal’s voice cracked with anguish as he dove from cover, the look of rage on his face a fraction of a second before she felt the hot tendrils of pain.

More than just the memory of pain followed. Gasping for air, her lungs constricting, she struggled to keep from crying out. She ran her hands over her body, exploring her sides and lower back, trying to find a source of the pain.

“Oh, easy there!” The doctor pulled Ryder’s hands away, squeezing them in a grip that felt too strong for such a slender frame. “You’re okay… but I think the sedatives are wearing off. You were shot, do you remember?”

Ryder no longer trusted those eyes. She wrestled her hands free and shoved at the woman hard enough to send her to the ground. “Yeah I remember being shot!” she screeched, her pain and panic mingling to create a toxic feeling that ate away at her composure.

Not willing to lose the advantage, she rolled from the bed and stumbled towards the door. The doctor yelled something, her words too jumbled and rushed to make sense. It was either a plea for Ryder to come back or a plea for help.

“Open you piece of shit!” She pressed against the door, struggling as if she could push herself through solid metal if she only tried hard enough. As soon as there was a space big enough for her to get through she darted out, her knees and elbows banging against the edges of the door as she did. There would be time later to figure out where she was and what she needed to do. Right now she needed a place to hide.

“Not so fast, girly.”

Thick arms wrapped around her hips, her captor hoisting her in the air with not even a grunt to suggest it was difficult. She dug her nails into hairy forearms and braced her feet against the wall, pushing off with as much force as she could manage. Whoever was holding onto her tripped and fell backwards, but their grip was still tight enough that she went with them.

The sensation of skin tearing along her lower back startled her and she felt something warm soak into the fabric of her thin tee. She writhed and gnashed her teeth, clawing at her captor in another attempt to free herself.

“Stop!” The familiar voice of the doctor floated down the hall towards them, her plea almost drowned out by the sound of her feet clunking as she stumbled towards the struggling pair. “You’re going to hurt her Murphy, let her go.”

Murphy did as he was bid, though it was a not so friendly shove that sent her rolling to the ground. “Doc, she nearly broke my neck!” he whined as he climbed to his feet.

“Oh boo hoo,” Ryder mocked as she struggled to find her own footing, backing up to put distance between the two of them. “That’s what you get for grabbing me like that.”

“Oh yeah? Well that’s what ya get fo’ runnin’!”

“Oh, well, I guess that’s what you get for - “

“This conversation is over,” the doctor cut in, inserting herself physically between the two. Ryder had puffed her chest out to make herself look bigger, finally making use of her stink eye. Murphy, who was as thick as a Krogan and likely just as thorny, didn’t look too put out.

The doctor took the time to give them both a withering look before turning her back to Murphy, her focus softening as she looked Ryder up and down. “Did you feel your stitches rip?” she asked, an obvious hint of worry in her voice.

Stubborn and distrustful, Ryder crossed her arms over her chest and scuffed her foot against the ground. “No,” she lied. Like hell she was going to let that woman touch her again.

Clearly not fooled, the other woman merely tilted her head and offered another toothy grin. “That’s good. I was able to staunch the bleeding and we had enough medi-gel to spare that it healed almost completely. It just needed a little help.” She pressed two fingers together to mime skin knitting back together and winked.

“Waste, if ya ask me,” Murphy mumbled behind her.

That was a shared sentiment, although Ryder did a good job of looking offended by the assumption she was a waste. Medi-gel had made up a sizable percentage of packed medical supplies, but the goal had never been to bring enough to sustain the effort, only enough to see them through until they could make more planetside. With a different source of resources to draw from, the Andromeda quick fix gel was sadly lackluster when compared to its predecessor.

“Please, if you would,” the doctor took a step back and motioned for Ryder to follow. “Lonny is waiting for us. He will be able to answer your questions.”

Not waiting for Ryder’s response, the doctor turned on her heel and bustled down the hall, though she slowed down to give Murphy a playful pinch on his arm. As an afterthought she called over her shoulder, “My name is Lia but you can just call me Doc. Everyone does.”

Ryder considered her options. She could try to run again, but the pain in her back was quickly becoming more than a minor annoyance, and it was doubtful she would make it very far. Murphy might not be so gentle next time and he could easily squish her head between his massive, hairy knuckled hands.

On the other hand, she could follow through with the plan that had led her down this road to begin with. It would be in her best interest - both in the short term and if there was ever any hope of there being a long term - to con Lonny into thinking she would be willing to work with them. She started out after Lia, stopping briefly when she crossed paths with Murphy. “Don’t call me girly,” she snapped.

Murphy grunted, keeping his arms crossed and his head low.

Trailing after the fast walking doctor, she committed every turn they took and every door they passed to memory. They had yet to pass by a window, but the floors and walls were too quiet to be a ship, so she knew they had to be grounded.

Lia finally came to a halt and waited patiently for Ryder to catch up. “Now that we’re clear of Murphy, I should tell you that I know your stitches tore. Would you let me look at them, please?” She pulled something out of her pocket that looked like a syringe and balanced it on her open palm. “I only stitched you up because I needed to wait a few hours to administer another one of these, but it’s been long enough that I can give you a quick jab and be done.”

“Jab is a real unfriendly term, Doc,” Ryder said gruffly, her shoulders raised in agitation. “Is that the official medical vernacular?“ Why couldn’t this woman be a normal evil doctor, one that left her bleeding and hurt?  

“Out here it is.” Lia tossed her braid over a shoulder and took a step forward. When Ryder didn’t run or put up her hands for a fight, Lia motioned with fingers for her to spin around.

Ryder did as she was bid and rolled her shirt up to expose her back to an alleged doctor who was approaching with what she claimed to be a canister of medi-gel. Worst case scenario she got stabbed in the spine, but at least then all the confusion about her motives would be resolved.

“This is going to be cold.”

Ryder twitched when she felt Lia’s hand alight on her waist. “Your hands or the gel?”

Lia laughed apologetically while spreading a thin layer of gel over the puckered, angry looking wound. “Both, sorry. Well, that’s done then. You’ll have a scar, I think, but there was no internal bleeding. You’ll be sore for the next few days and you’ll need to - “

More aggressively than needed, Ryder spun around and tugged her shirt back down. She held out a hand to stop Lia and motioned to the door behind her with a jerk of her head. “I don’t need medical advice. Let’s get this over with.”

A flash of - discomfort? regret? Ryder couldn’t name it - crossed Lia’s features before disappearing behind an apple cheeked smile. "Of course. Let’s go see Lonny.”

Turning back towards the door, she pressed her hand against the screen of a terminal, tapping her foot again as she waited for the scan to complete. The door slid open and the two stepped over the threshold, each wearing a similar look of glum foreboding now that they thought the other couldn’t see.

This room at least didn’t smell as bad, though it featured worse company. The short man who had faced off against Ryder was seated at a desk, his deep set eyes already tracking Ryder’s movements towards him. There would be less confusion about his motives concerning her; a pistol took up a corner of desk space, his hands hands folded neatly next to it.

“Ryder,” he said, inclining his head to a chair across from him.

She took his direction and perched on the edge of her seat, feet flat on the ground, elbows on knees.

This room was small too, although poorly lit and nearly empty. Shadows darkened the corners and creeped into the pockets of space between two, waist high lamps. One side of Lonny’s face was dappled with shadows, the poor lighting emphasizing the sharp jut of his cheekbones. Ryder could see a nick over his lip, the only mar on his otherwise smooth, hairless face.

“I think,” he began slowly, “that I should begin by apologizing.”

“Oof, I might need more than that. Are you sorry that you tricked me into landing on an asteroid with a fake distress signal and then tried to kill me, or are you sorry that you shot me and almost killed me?”

“Lia assures me that you were never in any real danger of dying. Nothing vital was hit.” He winced, his words unconvincing even to his own ears. “I don’t have any interest in harming you. What happened was an unfortunate consequence. Our situation has become dire.”

“Excuse me if I find that hard to believe.” Ryder glowered and folded her arms across her chest. “If you really had any interest in ‘working’ with me, you could have approached me like a normal person. I have an email address.”

He shook his head. “That was not an option. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about the way things happened.” A terse pause followed and he chewed on his next words before speaking. “The other two made it back to the ship unharmed. I kept my word.”

Relief flooded through her on a current too powerful to hide. When she felt her jaw start to tremble she clenched her teeth, schooling her face back into a mask of disinterest. “I guess I can’t be too upset that you shot me. After all, I didn’t explicitly say that you couldn’t. I should have listed it with my demands. What a learning experience this has all been.”

The carefully constructed air of friendliness that Lonny had colored his tone with leeched away as his face fell into a mask of fury. “You have no idea what we’ve been going through down here!” he hissed at her. “I’m sure Addison and Tann were happy they were able to cast so many of us off the station, it sure cut down on costs.”

“Save your - “

“Shut up!” he roared, rising with such force that his chair shrieked in protest as it scraped across the floor. “You don’t get an opinion on this. You weren’t there, you didn’t see what we did. That hasn’t stopped you from taking up the Nexus’ banner, though, has it?”

He crossed from behind the desk and made his way towards Ryder. Before she could rise and put distance between them, he was standing over her, his hands pressing into her shoulders to hold her in place.

“I’ve been watching you, Pathfinder Ryder.” The word Pathfinder slid off his tongue, his mouth puckering as he tasted how sour the word was. “You’ve brought hope to a lot of people. I think it’s about time you share the vision with us.”

Despite how much she wanted to pull herself free, stand and defend herself, she stayed seated, forcing her body to relax beneath the clap of his hands. She spoke around her clenched teeth, the words hissing in the air. “What do you want? Credits? Supplies? Tann won’t pay for me.”

“I want,” he said with a shake, “hope.”