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hysterialevi · 2 years

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Red Moon | Part 10

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Jason contracts the vampiric plague, the lieutenant is forced through a series of experiments at the hands of CENTCOM, and held prisoner at Camp Slayer’s research facility. When he discovers that they plan to use Salim as their next subject however, he decides to go rogue, and turns against the US military before they can use his disease as a key to immortality.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Jason Kolchek/Salim Othman

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

SECURITY ROOM

1938 HOURS

Jason flung the metal door open, holding his pistol firmly ahead.

Much like the halls encompassing it, the security room appeared to be just as empty as the rest of the level. The chairs had been abandoned, the monitors were unsupervised, and there was no trace of CENTCOM anywhere to be found.

Despite the lack of soldiers however, Jason wasn’t ready to relax. Upon stepping into the room, his ears immediately twitched in response to a nearby sound, and it wasn’t one that could be explained by the machinery. Amongst all the faint whirring and buzzing, he also detected a series of rapid breaths coming from inside one of the lockers.

Someone was still here. Someone was still alive.

Signaling Salim to stay back, Jason gripped his gun with both hands and approached the locker at a steady pace, uncertain of what he might find. Now that Briggs had attacked one of CENTCOM’s teams, he was wary of the possibility that his infection may have spread to some of the other soldiers.

“What is it?” Salim whispered. “Do you hear something?”

Jason nodded his head at the lockers. “Yeah. It’s comin’ from there. I’m gonna go check it out. Wait here a sec.”

Inching closer to the breathing, the marine remained as quiet as possible, not wanting to alert his target. He couldn’t see anything staring back at him from the slits of the locker’s door, but he could definitely hear the heavy pants getting louder and louder. Whoever was inside must have been crouching down.

Slipping his fingers into the depression on the door’s edge, Jason took a moment to brace himself before swinging it open with a hard tug, only to be greeted by an unexpected sight.

Instead of running into another vampire like he anticipated, the man found nothing more than a frightened woman curled up on the floor, pointing a gun directly at his chest. The firearm was trembling in her shaky grasp, and her eyes had been pried open with a sense of terror.

“Who are you?” Jason asked, staring down at her. “What’re you doin’ in there?”

The woman brushed his question aside, unable to ignore what she was looking at.

“O-Oh god...” she stammered, her voice barely audible. “You’re him. Y-You’re Subject One.”

Jason said nothing in response and simply studied her uniform, trying to figure out her identity.

“...Private West.” He read aloud, examining her rank and nametape. “Your name is West?”

The soldier lingered in a state of fear, despite hearing her name. “Is... is it gone?”

Jason checked over his shoulder. “You mean that thing outside? Yeah. We kil--” he stopped himself, deciding it was probably best not to give away a potential weakness.

“--Um, yeah. It’s gone. Anyway. You mind tellin’ me what the hell happened here? Where is everyone?”

West slowly rose to her feet, keeping an eye on him at all times. “Jesus, where do I begin? That... thing -- whatever it was -- it killed everyone.”

“I can see that. But what happened before it attacked? What was goin’ on here?”

Salim gave Jason a soft nudge, exchanging some hushed words with him. “Give her a moment. She’s afraid.”

The younger man scolded himself at the reminder, trying to soften his approach. “Right. Sorry. R’you... okay, ma’am?”

The woman glanced down at her body. “Physically, yeah. I think I’m alright.”

“What ‘bout everyone else? D’you know if there are any survivors?”

“No. The last time I saw anyone was right after you escaped. CENTCOM had ordered us to shut down the elevator at that point. They wanted to trap you inside. They then dispatched a squad to retrieve you. Before that could happen though... that creature broke loose. I don’t know where the hell it came from, but it just slaughtered everyone.”

Jason gestured to the locker. “And how’d you end up in here?”

“I was watching over the monitors when I suddenly heard some kind of commotion outside. I tried to help the soldiers when that thing attacked, but... everything just went to shit so fast. I ran back in here not too much later and found somewhere to hide. Then you came along.”

The marine furrowed his brow. “...Wait.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

He gave the woman a suspicious glare. “You were watchin’ the security cameras the whole time, but you didn’t see the creature coming? How is that possible?”

The soldier paused, unable to deny the discrepancy. “That... is odd now that you mention it.”

Jason didn’t buy it. “You mean to tell me you had no idea about this? At all?”

West held her hand up in defense. “L-Look, I know it sounds strange, but I swear -- I never saw any sign of the creature on the monitors. If I did, I would’ve warned everyone. You can review the footage yourself if you want.”

Although the lieutenant found the situation bizarre, he couldn’t bring himself to investigate it any further. He had had just about enough of CENTCOM’s shenanigans, and there were far more urgent matters demanding his attention right now.

“Listen, I’m just here to get the elevator up and runnin’ again. I frankly don’t give a damn whether you’re tellin’ the truth or not.”

West pointed to the control console, careful not to make any sudden moves. She still looked shaken up from everything that had occurred, but it was clear that Jason’s indifference relieved her somewhat.

“You can reactivate it from there.”

Jason didn’t move yet. Instead, he peered at the private with a skeptical gaze.

“...I don’t suppose you’re just gonna stand by and let me do this.”

The woman made a face that said she knew this was coming. “I may not be on the same side as you, but I’m no idiot. I’ve spoken to Dr. Carlyle. I know how strong you are. And I know that right now, my well-being depends entirely on you. I’d be out of my mind to start a fight.”

“How do I know you ain’t just gonna go runnin’ to him once I’m done here?”

“All I want is to return home in one piece. I’ve got family waiting for me there.”

“We all do.”

She looked him in the eye, doing her best to stay calm. “...Please, Subject One. Don’t do this. I promise, I won’t say a word about anything. CENTCOM will never know you were here. Just... let me go.”

The lieutenant fell silent at the plea, torn by the dilemma in front of him. He had no interest in harming anyone that didn’t pose a threat, but that was just the issue. He could no longer tell who his enemies were.

There were too many secrets in this facility. Too many snakes. Everybody cowered behind some sort of mask, and did a damned good job of it. Hell, the soldiers on the surface probably thought Carlyle was nothing more than a run-of-the-mill scientist doing simple research for the military. Yet, little did they know.

Everything had just become a gamble in this godforsaken camp, and right now, Jason was gambling with Salim’s life. Was it worth the risk?

Despite his doubt however, Jason couldn’t help but think about the woman at Green Zone.

He still hadn’t forgotten the grief he felt upon discovering her innocence, or the regret. Even to this day, they both sat in his chest like an anchor dragging him down to a place he had fought so hard to stay out of; a place from which he failed to save Nick.

If it turned out that his suspicions about West were wrong too, Jason didn’t know how he’d handle the consequences.

“...Subject One?” The private said, drawing his attention.

Jason turned to her with a stoic expression, betrayed by the profound emptiness clouding his eyes. He could already see that there would be no easy way out of this dilemma, but he had to make a choice.

The marine lifted his gun up to her head, sliding a finger over the trigger.

“Wait!” West shouted in panic. “W-What are you doing?”

Jason’s jaw clenched. “I’m... I’m sorry. I can’t take any chances.”

“But--!” The private stumbled over her words. “Please, don’t! I know you have no reason to trust CENTCOM, but...”

Salim jumped in, gripping his friend’s shoulder. “Jason, wait. Is this really a good idea? What if she’s trustworthy?”

The man didn’t budge. “What if she isn’t?”

“I’m just saying -- maybe we should give her the benefit of the doubt. Remember when you met me in the temple? You could’ve easily shot me, but you didn’t.”

Jason let out a sharp sigh. “This is different, Salim. I may be invincible, but even I can’t always protect you. If CENTCOM catches us, they’ll throw me back in my cell and probably kill you. Is that the risk you wanna take?”

Despite conceding his point, Salim couldn’t disregard his hesitance. “If it means we can avoid shooting an innocent woman, yes. Think about it. She mentioned she had family overseas. What if it was you waiting for your loved one to return?”

“And what about Zain? You have a son, Salim. What if this woman ends up bein’ the reason you never see him again?”

Still, he tried to get through to him. “You know I’d do anything to get back to my boy, but we have no idea what this woman’s intentions are.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the whole fuckin’ problem--”

--Bang!

Flinching at the sudden gunshot, the alarm in Jason’s head screamed in response to the noise, causing him to slam down the trigger. He hardly felt any pain from the bullet that had just been planted in his torso, but he could already hear the sound of somebody slumping to the floor.

He froze in place, completely at a loss for words.

What... what just happened?

What did he do?

Why was there blood on his face?

Did he... did he kill West?

...Jesus Christ. What the hell just happened?

Standing there in shock, both Jason and Salim drifted into a horrifying silence, unable to fend off the static filling their heads. Neither of them had noticed what West was doing during their brief argument, but they assumed she must have shot the marine out of sheer desperation.

God, could things get any worse?

Steadily lowering his gun as if on autopilot, Jason gazed at the tragic scene and let out a breath, finally realizing what just occurred.

“...Holy shit.” He whispered, his expression still blank. His blood had turned to ice, and there was now a dead weight sitting in his gut.

“Fuck!” He yelled suddenly. The man stormed away from West’s body, clawing a hand through his hair. “What the hell just--” he stopped in his tracks. “...Shit.”

Jason bent over and rested both palms on his knees, letting his head dangle between his shoulders.

He couldn’t figure out why he was reacting this way. It wasn’t as if he planned on letting West go, so why did he suddenly feel like he had a block of concrete beating in place of his heart? Jesus, what was even going on anymore?

Watching the distraught man from a distance, Salim stayed by the fallen private and peered helplessly at his friend, debating whether or not to comfort him. He wanted to reach out to Jason like he did in the caves, but the lieutenant had grown increasingly agitated ever since their escape. Was it because of HERA?

Well, whatever the reason, Salim still felt the need to say something. He cared deeply about Jason, and the last thing he wanted was for him to bear all this pain alone.

“Hey,” he called out, keeping his tone gentle. “Stay with me, Jason.”

The younger man raised his head, revealing a pair of glossy eyes. No tears had come spilling out yet, but Salim could see he was doing everything in his power to suppress them. In fact, he looked absolutely exhausted.

“I...” Jason trailed off, uncertain how to carry on. “...Yeah. Okay.”

He took a moment to gather himself, then returned to a standing position. It seemed like he had recovered from everything that just happened, but the fatigue in his voice proved otherwise.

“I’ll, um... get the elevator going. Keep an eye out, will you? I’ll focus on sortin’ this thing out.”

Salim gave him a worried look. “Of course, but will you be alright?”

“Yeah,” Jason answered a little too quickly. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks, buddy.”

Trudging over to the control console, the marine pulled out a chair and sat at the desk, trying to make sense of the buttons in front of him. He didn’t say another word about the incident for the next couple minutes, but his silence only worried Salim further.

“...There you are.” Jason murmured, looking at a certain key. He pressed the button, causing a green dot to illuminate next to the elevator’s label.

“Is it working again?” Salim asked, joining his friend.

“Should be. All we gotta do now is take the elevator up a level, find Moreau, and then get to the surface. Hopefully, the thing still moves after I pried the doors open.”

“What happens once we reach the surface?”

Jason pointed to one of the security cameras on the screen. It displayed an aerial view of a garage, as well as an impressive array of military vehicles.

“We’ll take one o’ those. The keys for each vehicle are kept in a small office inside the garage, but it should be easy enough to break into.”

“Any guards?”

“Only a few. Nothin’ we can’t handle.”

Salim scanned the cameras and brought his attention to the ones on their current floor, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

“That’s odd...”

Jason quirked a brow. “What is?”

“Look at the cameras for B2,” he pointed out. “None of them show any signs of a struggle. You can’t see the blood, the bodies, or even Briggs. You’d never know there was a fight.”

The other man zoomed in on them, sharing his friend’s perplexity. “...The hell?”

Salim offered an explanation. “Maybe someone tampered with the footage.”

“It’s... the only thing that makes sense, but why would anyone do that? And who?”

“I don’t know. Is it possible Briggs did it himself?”

“Doubt it. You saw the state that man was in when we found him. No way he could’ve carried this out.”

“But who else could’ve done it? And why would they want to cover his tracks?”

“No idea.”

A disturbing realization struck Salim. “...So, West was telling the truth all along. About this, at least.”

Jason’s expression instantly sank at the remark. He didn’t say anything, but Salim could see a shadow of regret being etched into his eyes.

“Were you... really going to kill her, Jason?” He asked. “I know she shot you first, but... even before that...”

The marine buried his face in his hand, almost as if he was trying to hide. “I... goddammit. Look, I didn’t know what the fuck to do, okay? All I wanted was to keep you safe. I never meant for things to go down like this.”

Salim’s tone softened with empathy. “I know, Jason. I know. Although I can’t say I’m happy about the situation, I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me. I just wish things could be different. There are never any easy decisions in war.”

Jason leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. “No. There ain’t.”

He sighed deeply, his voice heavy with desolation. “...I’m so tired of this shit. Of makin’ these kinds of choices. Why am I always the one who has to decide whether someone lives or dies? Why can’t it be someone else? I killed the woman at Green Zone, I killed Clarice, and now, West is dead too. It feels like all I ever do is hurt people.”

Jason gazed up at Salim, pushing his concerns aside. “...I’m sorry, buddy. I know I gotta stay focused. I just don’t know what to think anymore.”

The older man took a seat on the desk, angling himself so that he was facing his friend. “Habibi, there’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re afraid. You’re one of the strongest men I know, but even you can’t mimic a machine. You’re only human, after all.”

Jason threw a glare at him. “Am I?”

“Yes, you are. CENTCOM can call you whatever they like, but you’re still the same man I met in the temple. ‘Subject One’ is nothing more than a false label; a name they’ve used to erase your identity. Don’t give them that power. Don’t let go of your humanity.”

“...You say that like it’s so easy. I’m turning into a fuckin’ vampire, Salim. You saw what happened to Briggs. That’s gonna be me someday. I’ll wake up one morning just to realize that I can’t even remember my own goddamn name anymore. I’ll be nothin’ but a beast.”

“Be that as it may,” Salim emphasized, “you’re not there yet. HERA has not corrupted you. You still know who you are. You still have time. You’re still here. Don’t forget that. Because I won’t.”

The lieutenant took his words to heart, displaying a small smile. “...You always know what to say, don’t you.”

Salim laughed. “Not always. In fact, now that we’re so close to escaping this facility, I often find myself dreading the moment I reunite with Zain.”

“Why? Don’t you wanna see him again?”

“Of course. But how am I going to explain all this to him? How do I explain why I’ve been absent for over two weeks? Or where I’ve been?”

Jason shrugged. “Why not just tell him the truth?”

“I can’t. If I’m going to protect Zain, I can’t tell him anything about Red Moon. It’ll only put him in danger. The less he knows about HERA, the less of a reason CENTCOM will have to go after him.”

“Hm. Good point.”

“And to make things worse,” he continued, “I doubt Zain will be the only one with questions. Dar’s wife is probably wondering where her husband is by now. I’ll have to let her know what happened.”

“...I’m sorry.” Jason said sincerely. “I know he was your friend.”

Salim scoffed. “Pft, friend? I’m not so sure. Truth is, he held no reservations when it came to insulting me or my son. He knew I had a family, and still, he insisted that I join his suicide mission.”

He paused for a moment, gazing down at the floor. “But... I can’t deny that he had his convictions. Despite his recklessness, I knew Dar was simply afraid for his country. Just like you. All he wanted was to defend his homeland. He just never knew when to stop.”

Jason listened quietly to Salim, allowing the man to vent freely. He wasn’t nearly as eloquent as his companion when it came to reassuring people, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling the other man’s pain.

“Anyway,” Salim said, “enough of that. We shouldn’t stay here for too long. We need to find Moreau.”

Jason stood up from his chair, nodding in agreement. “Right. I’ll lead the way. She’ll be waitin’ for us in her office. Keep your eyes peeled, okay? I know this floor was pretty quiet, but there’s no tellin’ what we’ll find upstairs.”

The other man scooted himself off the desk, preparing his rifle. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Good. Oh, and Salim?”

“Yeah?”

The marine walked towards the exit, patting his shoulder on the way.

“Thanks. For listening.” He smirked. “I know I can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

Salim chuckled at the comment. “Yes. Yes, you can. But I’m happy to help anyway. Heh, maybe I can be the pain in your ass for a change.”

Jason gave him nothing but an amused stare.

“Uh--” he blurted out, “--I... I didn’t mean it like that.”

The younger man shook his head, grinning to himself as he strolled out the door. “Dear Lord, and I’m riskin’ my life for this man.”

~~~~~~~~~~

CAMP SLAYER, LEVEL B1

1955 HOURS

Treading through the facility with haste, Jason and Salim found themselves passing by numerous doors, all of them labeled with a different name. A cycle of orange flashes painted the walls due to the alarms, and it looked like most of CENTCOM’s personnel had evacuated the floor.

In spite of the unexpected convenience however, Jason couldn’t help but notice that one of the offices’ door had been left ajar. A sliver of light was seeping out through the small crack, and it happened to be coming from the exact room he was looking for.

“Up there.” He said. “Moreau should be inside.”

“Go get her. I’ll keep watch.”

Rushing over to the office, Salim guarded the entrance while Jason knocked on the door, admittedly puzzled as to why it was open.

“Moreau?” He called out. “You in there? It’s me, Jason. I got Salim.”

There was no answer. The two men exchanged glances, waiting for a moment before trying again.

“Moreau.” Jason repeated, knocking a bit more firmly. “C’mon, doc. We gotta get moving. CENTCOM could be here any minute.”

Still, the office remained silent.

Salim grew nervous, unwilling to stick around for too long. “What’s going on, Jason? Why isn’t she answering?”

The younger man pushed the door open and poked his head in, only to be greeted by an empty room. All the furniture looked completely untouched, and there was no indication that Moreau had even set foot in the office.

“...She ain’t here.”

Salim glanced over his shoulder. “What? Well, then-- where is she?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Are you certain she was meant to be waiting for us here?”

Jason stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. “Yes. I made it crystal clear. I told Moreau not to move until we found her. If she’s not in there, then...” a grim look spread across his face, “...something’s definitely gone wrong.”

Salim lowered his rifle, trying to think of an explanation. “What if she just changed her mind? Maybe she decided not to come in the end. That, or she could’ve evacuated with the other scientists.”

“Mm, it’s a possibility, but...” Jason crossed his arms, “I dunno, man. If Moreau really did change her mind, I feel like she would’ve waited to tell us. It ain’t like her to just disappear.”

“So, what do you want to do? Should we look for her, or keep going?”

“Let’s look for her.”

It was evident that Salim wasn’t entirely on board with the idea. “...Alright. But we need to make it quick. Just because we’ve avoided CENTCOM’s soldiers so far doesn’t mean we will forever.”

“Don’t worry. We won’t take long.”

Jason gazed further down the hall, beckoning the other man to join him.

“Hey, look over there.” He pointed at one of the rooms. “It’s Carlyle’s office. Maybe we can find somethin’ inside.”

“Like what?”

“Think about it. Moreau is his assistant. If anyone’s gonna know where she is, it’s gotta be that bastard. Plus, he’s a chief research scientist for Red Moon. We could find more information about HERA, or even me.”

Salim followed Jason to the office, unable to deny his own curiosity. He wasn’t sure if searching Carlyle’s belongings would help them escape the facility or locate Moreau, but he did want to know more about HERA.

“Okay,” he agreed. “Let’s take a look.”

~~~~~~~~~~

CARLYLE’S OFFICE

2000 HOURS

Bashing the door open, Jason broke through the lock with a strong kick, landing himself in yet another deserted room. Carlyle was nowhere to be found among the piles of documents sitting around, and it didn’t look like his assistant was nearby either.

“Damn.” Jason muttered. “No sign of Moreau.”

“What about Carlyle?” Salim asked from outside.

“He’s disappeared too, thank God. C’mon. Help me search this place. Let’s see what he has.”

Scouring the area, the pair of men began digging through every nook and cranny of the small office, eager to uncover any mysteries pertaining to HERA. They sifted through every drawer, cabinet, crate, and closet they could find, practically turning the place upside-down.

Fortunately, their efforts weren’t without fruition.

Buried underneath the mountains of research, Salim managed to come across a collection of photographs hiding in Carlyle’s desk. Most of them depicted Jason during various stages of his transformation, and were paper-clipped to additional reports. The rest, however, appeared to come from an earlier date.

One of them was a picture of Jason and Nick standing underneath a tent. They were both dressed rather casually, and had a couple of beers in their hands. The weather around them seemed to be dampened by some rain, but despite that, Salim could still see a large gathering of pickup trucks populating the background. Was it a party, perhaps? It looked like it was taken in the States.

Moving onto the next photograph, Salim found a younger Jason sitting beside an elderly man in a rustic themed restaurant. It was sunny in this one judging by the brightened windows, and the table had been cluttered with a handful of plates. There was sweet tea, mashed potatoes, barbecue, biscuits, corn -- Salim assumed this must have been a family gathering. Maybe the old man was his grandfather.

As for the last picture, Salim couldn’t help but crack a smile. It was a portrait of Jason wearing the Marine Corps uniform. It felt odd seeing him in something so pristine compared to his usual attire, but... he looked handsome. Determined. Ready to take on the world. If only he had known where he would be in just a few years.

Setting the photographs down, Salim redirected his focus to the reports and picked up a document labeled, “top secret,” hoping to find more details. To his disappointment, it didn’t describe much else other than Jason’s first few days as a vampire, but one page in particular caught his attention.

According to Carlyle’s reports, the US military reached out to Jason’s family following his imprisonment, and informed them that he was KIA.

His relatives were even sent an imposter body for the sake of a burial, but had no knowledge concerning Jason’s actual status or location. As far as they were concerned, he died at the hand of Iraqi forces over two weeks ago.

“Oh, no...” Salim murmured under his breath. How was he going to tell Jason about this?

Flipping to the next page, Salim stumbled across a lengthy record of Carlyle’s notes, all of them containing information about his latest discoveries. They covered many of HERA’s symptoms such as echolocation, invincibility, hypersensitive-hearing, et cetera... but most of it was stuff that Salim already knew.

The most recent entry, however, took him by surprise:

“...After weeks of observing HERA’s development, I believe I’ve finally figured out what lies at the core of this phenomenon.

For a long time, I wondered what determined the severity of HERA’s influence on a host. Initially, I assumed it was simply due to the host’s immune system. I even considered other factors such as age and sex, but none of these proved to be consistent. I could never reproduce results. Thanks to my recent experiments with Subject Eight however, that’s changed.

It is to my understanding that HERA thrives off of one thing, and one thing alone.

Fear.

This virus feeds on adrenaline. The more frightened a host is, the quicker HERA will take control of their body. Once the transformation is complete, the host will share a similar need for adrenaline, and find it within the blood of their prey. The adrenaline will allow the host to grow stronger, enhancing their abilities even further.

It’s a cycle that quite literally feeds itself. So, if we’re going to transfer this virus to our troops, we’ll need to find a way to equalize their levels of adrenaline in order to ensure the utmost effectiveness...”

The document went on to describe CENTCOM’s plans concerning the war and how they were going to utilize HERA, but Salim decided he had seen enough. He closed the file and stuffed it back in the desk, letting out an overwhelmed sigh.

Who was Subject Eight? Briggs? And what about the other six subjects? Where were they being held? They couldn’t be in the prison -- Salim would’ve seen them otherwise -- and they definitely weren’t near Jason’s cell either. So where the hell were they?

“Whatcha got there?” The lieutenant asked, noticing his buddy’s newfound interest.

Salim showed him the photographs first, not wanting to expose the reports.

“Oh, nothing,” he lied. “Just some pictures. They’re yours, actually. Here, you should keep them.”

“Mine?” Jason took the photos in hand, smiling fondly as he skimmed over the images. “Well, I’ll be damned. Where the hell did Carlyle get these? I ain’t seen these in years.”

Salim’s curiosity got the best of him. “What are they?”

“Oh, the first one is me and Nick at a tailgate party about, what, two years ago? It was rainin’ like hell that day, but we didn’t care. We were havin’ fun. And the next one is me and my grandpa. He’s also a vet. Fought in World War Two. I think me and my dad took him out for lunch because... that’s right, it was Veterans Day. And this one...”

He paused at the last photo, his smile suddenly dimming.

Salim instantly picked up on the shift in his mood. “Is... everything okay?”

Jason’s face drooped in sorrow.

“Yeah. It’s just... I’ve almost forgotten what I looked like before I was infected. It feels weird to see myself like this, y’know. As a human.”

He shoved the pictures in his pocket, not even giving himself a chance to dwell on it. “Anyway, you find anything else in Carlyle’s desk?”

Salim hesitated, catching his words before they could leave his mouth. “Well, y-yes...”

Jason shrugged. “What is it?”

The older man chewed his lip in nervousness, pondering whether or not to tell him the truth. He didn’t wish to cause his friend any more stress than he was already experiencing, but at the same time, he felt he deserved to know.

“Ah... I can’t lie to you, Jason. I found a file sitting in one of the drawers. Most of it was just research; a bunch of notes talking about HERA. But... one of the pages contained a series of messages between Hoyt and Carlyle.”

“And? What’d they say?”

“Well, not too long after you were imprisoned, the two of them contacted your family via the military. They told them you were killed in action, and even sent a fake body to remove any suspicion. According to the government, you were killed by enemy forces while on deployment in Iraq.”

Jason stared directly at him, his shoulder slouching in despondency. “...My family thinks I’m dead?”

“Yes. I’m... sorry, Jason.”

The marine’s expression barely changed upon hearing the news, but even then, Salim could tell that he was about one step away from blowing this place to hell.

“...Fuckin’ CENTCOM. Those bastards really think they can take my life away from me? My family? Well, I won’t let them.”

Cutting into their conversation before they could say another word, a distant voice fluttered past Jason’s ears, causing his head to flick sideways. He stopped what he was doing and immediately raised a hand, signaling Salim to remain quiet.

“Shh! I hear something.”

“What is it?”

Jason honed in on the faint sound, steadily roaming towards the source. He wandered over to the wall adjacent with Moreau’s office and pressed an ear against it, trying to make out what the voice was saying.

“...I think it’s comin’ from next door.” He remarked.

“You mean Moreau’s office? But we were just there. Nobody was around.”

Jason slid along the wall’s edge, flattening his palms on the surface. Although the voice sounded like it was originating from the opposite side, he couldn’t help but feel like it was a bit too... echoey. Rather, he suspected that there might’ve been something else hiding behind the wall.

Coming to an abrupt halt, Jason stopped in his tracks when a bookcase blocked his path, putting an end to his search. He planned on abandoning the mystery right then and there, but to his surprise, the voice had only gotten louder.

“Hold on a minute...” a pang of realization hit him. “Salim! Help me move this.”

“The bookcase? Why?”

“Just help me. I think there’s somethin’ behind it.”

Deciding not to question it any further, Salim simply jogged over to Jason’s position and took hold of the bookcase, making sure his grip was secure.

“You ready?” The other man checked. “Alright, on three. One, two, three...!”

Giving the bookcase a firm shove, the two men slid the hefty piece of furniture off to the side with relative ease, unveiling a hidden archway. The secret entrance led into a narrow, dimly-lit hall that snaked between the two offices, and the very end, Jason could see a lone door waiting to be opened.

“The fuck is this...?” He wondered aloud. “Why would Carlyle need a secret room?”

Salim peered down the ominous hallway, wary of any potential dangers that awaited them. “Should we go inside?”

The same voice from before called out again, striking Jason’s ears with much more clarity. Even though their words were still muffled by the layers of metal standing between them, it was enough to let him know that he was on the right track.

Jason prepared his gun, cautiously stepping inside the arch. “Stay close. I’m gonna have a look.”

Cocking his rifle, Salim took a deep breath before following the lieutenant into the hallway, admittedly put off by how slim it was. The ceiling was just high enough to let him stand upright, and the walls were about an inch away scraping his arms.

As for Jason, the man was becoming increasingly tense due to the sounds his ears were picking up. A sickening orchestra of bubbling, groaning, heavy breathing, and buzzing dug into his skull, crafting a horrific image in his brain.

What in god’s green earth was Carlyle hiding back here? Why didn’t he want anyone else to see it? Part of him didn’t want to know.

Taking hold of the door’s handle, Jason double-checked his pistol and threw a quick glance at Salim, preparing for whatever he was about to find. His forehead was dotted by beads of cold sweat at this point, and his serpentine eyes were wide with anxiety.

“Still want to do this?” Salim questioned.

“...Fuck it. We’ve come all this way. May as well.”

Sparing a moment to steel himself, Jason grit his teeth in anticipation as he twisted the handle, steadily pushing the door open. The entrance was unlocked contrary to what he expected, but after seeing what lay inside, he almost wished that hadn’t been the case.

A trail of ice crept up his spine, nailing his feet to the ground.

“Jesus Christ...” he whispered, “...it’s the other subjects.”

#house of ashes #the dark pictures #hoa #jason kolchek #salim othman #jalim #jason kolchek x salim othman #hoa fanfic #vampire!jason

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gweasleycore · 3 years

Text

i just wanna be yours stu macher drabble

word count: 1k warnings: knifes a/n: this is different from what i normally post on here but i’ve been really inspired to write for scream lately so i’ve decided to post that and harry potter stuff. hope you all like this, i’ve got plans for a couple of full fics so we’ll see how it goes

“Hey Stu.” you smiled and leaned against his kitchen door frame, watching him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Oh hey Yn, I didn’t realize anyone was still here.” his eyebrows were raised as he observed you. You and your group of friends had been over hanging out at his house. It was a routine for your little group of six to spend as much time as you could at the Macher house; I.E. whenever Mr. & Mrs. Macher weren’t home.

“Yeah, it's just me. Tatum and Sid caught a ride with Randy but things are still weird with us so… I hung back.” you spoke nonchalantly about it, but Stu knew you were more upset than you let on. You and Randy had always been close friends, next door neighbors since childhood, it only made sense that he’d have a thing for you. But he didn’t have to get so butthurt when you politely turned him down, “I had a question for you anyways.”

“Oh yeah, what’s up?” Stu smirked to himself at your tone. You were a bit hard to predict at times. Like him you liked to shamelessly flirt and you were fucking good at it too. But then sometimes you would drop it in an instant and completely shock whoever you were talking to. Stu had learned to be cautious of you.

“I was just wonderin’,” you leaned forward on the counter in front of him, trailing your finger up the handle of the knife on the counter as you started spinning it around, “what’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Why would you ask me that?” his eyes darkened but you didn’t notice, or rather you thought it was for other reasons. You smiled, thinking your plan had worked and started backing towards the door with the knife in hand.

“Why? You worried I’m gonna knife ya?” you let out a shocked squeal that turned into a giggle when Stu pushed off from the counter, beginning to run after you. He chased you around the halls of his house before you let him pin you to his couch. You were still smiling when he took the knife from you and pointed it at your throat, you’d always felt like Stu would be into some darker shit.

“Cut the shit, Yn. What do you know?” he said, forcing you into the couch further.

“Huh?” you mumbled, “What do you mean? I was just messin’ around. I.. Dewey told me, Tatum, and Sid some of the stuff they got from the reports lately. You think that stuff’s funny so I thought..”

“Oh shit..” He gripped your wrist with his free hand so tight the pain brought you to your senses. Your brows furrowed as you took in the situation. Knife to your throat and Stu’s dangerous gaze pinning you down just as tightly. “Fuck, man. You really shouldn’t have done that, Yn.”

“I- I don’t know what you mean Stu. I was just, I don’t know? I was trying to flirt with you. I’ve been into you for a while now and I know your humor’s kind of dark so I just,” you weren’t even lying, it was humiliating but it was the truth. You didn’t know if it would matter but you really didn’t want to die so you hoped it would somehow.

“Fuck, Yn, I’m into you too. I don’t wanna kill you but I don’t really have a choice now.” he said, the knife digging into your throat. It wasn’t enough yet to break the skin but it was enough to hurt, you knew if you moved you’d end up cutting yourself.

“You do, Stu, you don’t have to kill me. I won’t tell anyone I promise.” you begged. You could feel the tears brimming your eyes, you were trying not to cry. Fuck if this is how you died, you hadn’t even gotten to sleep with Stu yet and here you were about to die!

“If I don’t kill ya Billy’s gonna and I just can’t have that, Baby.” he shook his head frantically like he was trying to get the images of anyone else but him killing you out of his mind. You were his, his to have, to hold and his to kill if he had to.

“B-billy doesn’t have to know!” you gripped at his hand on the knife, watching him consider your suggestion. Maybe you could work with this, maybe you could live “Yeah, we can- we can just keep it between us right? No one- no one else has to know about this.”

“I don’t know if I can trust you.” the pressure of the knife against your throat had let up just slightly, his hand around your wrist twitching like he wanted to let go or hold you in a different way.

“I promise you can. I’ll do anything Stu, anything. You call the shots.” you swore, “I just want you.”

His breath hitched in his throat at your confession, the knife falling onto the floor beside you though he still kept you trapped underneath him. Stu leaned down and kissed you, his hand going to the back of your neck to bring you as close to him as possible. You felt a million emotions wash over you during that kiss. You had to grip onto his shirt to anchor yourself, otherwise you were sure you would’ve poofed away in some magical spark of dust.

“If you say anything to anyone, I’ll have to kill ya, yn. I really don’t want to. Please don’t give me any reason to have to, okay? Promise me?”

“I promise you Stu, you can trust me.” and you were telling the truth. You didn’t know what his plans were, you didn’t know what all he’d done. Truthfully you didn’t care. Stu could’ve murdered you that night and you would’ve forgiven him, or better yet blamed yourself for accidentally finding out.

So that's how you got roped into the Woodsboro massacre. By being hopelessly and stupidly in love with Stu Macher.

#stu macher #scream 1996 #scream #stu macher x reader #stu macher x y/n #scream fanfiction #drabble #stu macher drabble #billy loomis #ghostface

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woodsfae · 2 years

Text

It’s been an exciting last day. I had an allergic reaction to my nicotine patches yesterday so now I’m not smoking by willpower, since I’m not allowed to have lozenges or gum yet (they inhibit healing with oral surgery, exactly the thing I’m not smoking for), and really I don’t want to try them anyway. Not really a fan of hard candies/lozenges or chewing gum.

Carrying on with Babylon 5 - !

First

Table of Contents

S01E02: Soul Hunter

THANK you Sinclair, for finally saying Susan Ivanova’s name out loud. Dr Stephen Franklin, mental note to remember that. Bye Dr Kyle, I wanted more of your existential dread over Vorlon faces but here we are.

These various ship designs are fantastic.

I like the technology in this. It’s very physical in a way that still feels futuristic. The lack of voice-commands is particularly great. I’m so sick of everything technological listening to me. Let’s go to a future where nothing’s listening to us.

Dun dun duuuuuun, gonna go catch the loose mystery ship like it’s a claw game.

THANK YOU SINCLAIR for saying Delenn’s name out loud! Keep up the good work, my dude. I can’t figure out if she wears a headdress or if that’s part of her body.

Delenn does not like this Shak Tot/Soul Hunter. Quick guess - predatory telepaths?

“You do not know these things as I do,” - “Then educate me,” SO LOGICAL. Thank you.

They sound like predatory telepaths. I wonder if Delenn is right that they are particularly interested in Minbari and do cause harm (they don’t kill, just arrive at the moment of death, though. That doesn’t really sound harmful) or if this will be an odd cultural taboo/prejudice of some kind.

It’s funny that they show the atmosphere is different by putting a tint on the shot.

Non-humans are clearing out of Babylon 5 ASAP. Lends more credence to Delenn’s fears, if lots of species have a fear of the Soul Hunters. It still could be a mortal discomfort with their own mortality and anyone who is free of natural death and can sense mortal death.

OK if Shak Tot are always this creepy about death I might wanna shoot them out an airlock too.

“We are drawn to the moment, the moment of surrender the instant of loss between despair and ecstasy when the flesh fails on all that remains behind the soul we save. Not all. Only the special ones. Leaders, thinkers, poets, dreamers, blessed lunatics. [...] We enshrine them, we worship them, talk to them, listen to them. We learn.”

Hah, their (the Minbari) former leader is Duhkat. It has to be a conscious nod to DS9, no?

I’m sticking with predatory telepath, with a cultural imperative to collect imprints of consciousness. Even if the Shak Tot is telling the truth and doesn’t cause harm or death, it does seem reasonable for a species to establish a boundary that another species isn’t allowed to collect their consciousnesses, and for there to be conflict when the Shak Tot continue to try to do so.

Delenn’s disgust and horror makes sense with her cultural view - the souls of Minbari merge and blend and become the next generation. The Shak Tot believe souls die at death and collecting them is the only way to keep them alive.

The Shak Tot really should just let the species that prefer not to be collected, remain uncollected.

Satai Delenn! More of a name, and some backstory! thanks, Shak Tot.

“If that’s true, all we have to do is figure out who’s about to die,” yes, very simple, Ivanova.

Cool alien design! Insectoid is pretty unusual.

I am curious how a ship coming into the jump point can activate it when they’re clearly very far away. FTL communication of some point?

DUN DUN DUN a Soul Hunter here for Sinclair! He seems more straightforward than First Arriving Shak Tot.

Oooo Deeply Disturbed Shak Tot! Hims gonna murder people to get their souls, perhaps? Ah, yes. He’s gonna murder Delenn. but based on all the gifsets I’ve seen over the years, he’s definitely not going to get her in S01E02.

Are they really immortal? How long has Deeply Disturbed Shak Tot been killing people for their souls? Weeks? Years? Centuries? He might be the origin of the fear.

o m i n o u s c h r i s t m a s o r n a m e n t

pfffft if it takes this bigass machine to capture a soul every time no wonder the Shak Tot are so easy to stymie.

Exsanguination, narrated so creepily. I’d be skeered of these guys too, if this was the normal process.

U lyin, New Shak Tot? He looked so exasperated, hah.

Do what, plan what, Satai Delenn??

This is why you send security in first, Sinclair. Or like, bring some security in with you?

This Shak Tot was way easier to collect than Delenn was. Are they all this susceptible to soul scooping?

Still can’t tell if Delenn has a funky skull or a headdress.

“we were right about you,” “they’re using you,” “you have a hole in your mind,” lots of interesting stuff centering on Sinclair.

Ahhh, her name is not Satai, it’s a title for the Grey folks Delenn was so concerned Spots G’Kar never mention in her presence again.

“Life’s full of mysteries. Consider this one of them,” that’s pretty great line. I’m glad Delenn gets to take care of the Minbari souls in a culturally appropriate manner for her people. Is she telepathic? How does she know which ones want to go on, and are there any that want to stay orb’ed? This may remain a mystery to me, too.

[end episode]

I didn’t feel the powerful urge to make gifs of anything from this episode, which saves me a lot of time, so on to the….

next!

#Babylon 5 #delenn #woodsfae b5

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theoreticalconstruct · 2 years

Text

A City Abandoned (FFVII, B/T, SFW)

Title: A City Abandoned Fandom: Final Fantasy VII Characters: Barret/Tifa, mentions of Marlene This is a post-apocalyptic AU that I've played around with before and I think I finally have an idea for a setup.Writing out a few ideas and some fluff for it.

For @romancingbarret day 6 - AU.

---

Tifa made her way through streets that she knew like the back of her hand, a few small supplies and bits of information tucked into her coat. These expeditions weren't as fruitful as they had once been. People were becoming increasingly desperate and moving further and further afield for what they needed. Going out alone used to make things easier, but she was going to have to reconsider.

Midgar was practically in ruins, and no one knew how it had come to this. It had been a crowded city, teeming with people, and now they were somehow completely cut off from the outside world. The few people who'd tried to leave, who'd made it to the walls, spoke of a shifting black landscape that consumed anyone who attempted to cross it.

Tifa remembered when it had all happened. It had been a sudden change. One moment, everything had been normal in Sector 7, and then the power had gone out. Mako reactors had just stopped working. Materia became nothing more than dull, empty stones, nothing more than dead weight. It was as if the Lifestream itself had abandoned them.

They hadn't had much contact with the rest of the city since all of this had happened. She knew that there hadn't been a single child born in Sector 7 in the years since this started. What happened to the life energy of the people who died there? She didn't know, and she really didn't want to think about it.

---

Barret was waiting for her when she came back. He usually was.

"You okay?" he asked as soon as she was close enough, wrapping his good arm around her. It had been long enough without any proper supplies that his gunarm wasn't really much good as a gun anymore. Jessie had done what she could to maintain it, and it had worked out well for the first year, but after the raid where they'd lost most of their tech... well, there wasn't much to be done about it.

"Yeah," she said. "I got some tools for Jessie. A few caches, but I couldn't carry them back with me. I've got the locations."

Barret nodded. "Just glad you're back," he said, arm still around her shoulders. He smelled like booze, though she knew he hadn't been the one drinking it; he'd given it up a long time ago. "Wish I could go with you."

"I know." She wanted him with her too. But he didn't feel like he could anymore. Without his gun, he'd said, he was just an old man with one arm and some bad knees. Someday, Tifa thought, she'd find a way to convince him that he wasn't as weak now as he thought he was. "How are things here?"

"Quiet now. Had some trouble with the new refugees... there was some bad blood between one of them and some people who came here two weeks ago. I got 'em talking it out, but. It was dicey for a while."

Tifa nodded. Sector 7 was a neutral zone, and she had done everything in her power to keep the peace. It wasn't always easy, and having Barret around helped a lot. He always seemed to know what to say. "I"m glad you could handle it. Point them out to me, ok? I'll try to see what I can do." She cleared her throat. "Is Marlene okay?"

"Keeping her out of sight for a while." He sighed, shaking his head. "She doesn't understand why. She wants to meet everyone, but damn me if I'm gonna let anybody take her."

It wouldn't be the first time, Tifa thought sadly. Marlene wasn't a baby anymore, but she was - from everything she'd heard - one of the youngest children left in the city. The sickness that had spread shortly after the disaster had hit the younger population hard - it was nothing short of a miracle that Marlene had survived - and since there were no children being born since, there were a lot of desperate people who wanted a child, any child, to call their own.

She knew Barret would kill anyone who tried to take Marlene. And if he let her, she'd do what she could to finish the job.

Barret leaned down as if reading her thoughts, kissing her on the crown of her head. She leaned back to look up at him, and pushed herself up on her toes to kiss him back. There were so many things she missed from the world outside, but she didn't think she'd ever see them again. She was just glad she had her little family here. Glad that she wasn't alone.

"C'mon," he said. "Let's get the tools for Jessie. See what else you got."

"Yeah, sounds good," she said, ducking her head slightly. It was so good to be home.

#Final Fantasy VII #Alternate Universe #Barret Wallace #Tifa Lockhart #Barret x Tifa #Fanfiction #RomancingBarretWeek

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petri808 · 3 years

Note

OHMYGODDD JUST SAW YOUR LATEST POST I LOVE IT ANGST WITH A HAPPY ENDING IS JUST CHEF'S KISS. I WOULD LOVE TO SEE 42, 49 and 13 FOR NALU PLEASEEE CAN'T WAIT TO READ ITT

😳 Ya’ll really love angst huh? Lol okay, sure let’s see what I can come up with. 😊 “You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did!” + “I’m pregnant” + “Im too sober for this”

Lucy’s knees weakened and sent her crumbling to the bathroom floor. Why was this happening to her?! She’d just finished college and was about to start her paid internship with a local newspaper. ‘What am I gonna do?’ Lucy gripped to the stick in her hand as the tears trickled down her face. This could derail her future before it even started— all because of one slip-up. How was she going to tell Natsu… Not knowing who else to talk to, Lucy turned to her best friend Levy McGarden. She texted the woman and drove over to her friends apartment in dread.

“Oh, Lu…” Levy hugged her friend tightly before pulling her into the small apartment. She sat Lucy down on the couch, then made them both some tea. “How you feeling?” Levy asked as she handed the cup over.

“How do you think I’m feeling?!” Lucy groaned. “I feel like I’m in a nightmare.”

“Are you sure the results are correct? You know those home pregnancy tests can be wrong.”

“I don’t know, I mean I followed the instructions and it didn’t give an error sign.” Lucy pulled the stick from her pocket. “See?” She showed it to her friend. “Two lines.”

“Oh— yeah, looks like it,” Levy agreed.

Lucy pocketed the test once again and hung her head. Both hands cradled the warm cup, just holding it without a desire to drink from it. “Just thinking about this is making me sick. Maybe I can just pretend it’s not true.”

“Lu, that’s ridiculous. I’m pretty sure the growing bump on your stomach will make that difficult.”

“Ugh! I know!” Lucy shrieked. “Lie to me or something… Levy, I-I don’t think I can deal with this!”

“Well, you have to. And how am I supposed to lie about this?!”

“I don’t know, tell me this is a dream. Just a bad dream that I’m gonna wake up from. The test was wrong, something! Maybe it’s just a fiction story I’m working on cause I just don’t wanna think about it right now.”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did! Lucy you have to face reality.”

“What am I gonna do Levy? I can’t be having a baby!”

“Well first things first, you need to tell Natsu— I’m assuming it’s Natsu.”

“Of course, it’s Natsu! I haven’t slept with anyone else.”

“Well you need to tell him. He deserves to know.”

“I know…”

“Natsu’s a stand up guy, I know he’s going to do the right thing.”

Lucy sighed, “that’s not what I worry about. I mean having kids is something that’s crossed my mind… just not anytime soon. We’re not even married yet. Ugh! I’m such an idiot.”

“Sometimes these things happen.” Levy placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Can’t go back to the past, so now all you can do is figure out the now. Do you have any idea when it happened?”

“My guess is my graduation party, cause that was the last time we had sex. I barely even remember it cause I was so drunk,” Lucy whimpered, then started to sob. “We’re usually careful but… yeah, it had to be that.”

“Come here,” Levy pulled her friend into a hug. “You’re gonna be okay. Whatever happens, you’re gonna be okay.”

The women spent a couple more hours chatting, flipping between random topics, but often coming back to this one. Lucy struggled to even wrap her mind around the reality that this is real. That she was going to have a child, when she was barely an adult herself and all the factors involved only compounded her dilemma. Her new job isn’t going to afford a child. Natsu had a decent job, but even combined it would be a struggle. They’d have to find a place together, a two bedroom house or apartment. What about the medical expenses, and the baby supplies— babies are expensive! Where was the money going to come from?

When Lucy noticed the time and realized Natsu would be coming home from work within the hour, she thanked her friend for the support and bid her goodbye. Even though she had calmed down a little, she wasn’t ready, didn’t know what or how she was going to break the news to him. So, after arriving home, Lucy tried to distract herself by cooking dinner. It didn’t really work, but at least a meal was made. Her life until now had been going well in that she had a boyfriend who treated her right, supported her while she finished her degree, even pushed her to follow her dreams of writing. And now that her degree was finished, Lucy was on her way after landing the paid internship. If she passed the internship, they would offer her a permanent position at the newspaper.

But now all of that felt like it was slipping through her fingers. All her hard work for nothing because juggling a small child and going to work… Maternity leave is not paid, so they’ll have to rely on just one income for a time, then daycare is quite expensive. Sure, there are programs that she could apply for to help or family, but that’s not the point— the point is, they are sorely not ready to become parents.

“I’m home!” Natsu called out as he entered the apartment. “Something smells good!”

“Welcome home, Natsu.” Lucy called out from the kitchen. “It’s almost done.”

Natsu detected a change in his girlfriend’s tone. Usually when he gets home, she’s in a happier mood— but not today. He threw his keys onto the kitchen island and walked up, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Everything okay?”

Whatever words she’d planned to say were thrown out the window as tears pooled instantly in Lucy’s eyes. “Natsu, it’s…”the words stumbled out, “um… I-I’m pregnant.”

“P-Preg…nant?!” Natsu took a step back in shock, his trembling hand moving to cover his mouth. “Oh, wow— I’m too sober for this,” he mumbled.

“Pregnant,” she repeated as the sobs broke free. “And alcohol is what got us into this mess!” Lucy snapped and sobbed louder.

“Oh, h-hey now, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Natsu pulled her into his arms. “Don’t cry baby, please don’t cry, I hate seeing you cry.”

“Natsu, I’m pregnant, did you hear me?! Pregnant! I can’t be pregnant!”

“Shh… I hear you,” he gently coaxed Lucy to the couch and had her sit down, then sat beside her, cradling her close. “True, it’s not the best time… but we can make it work.”

“You don’t understand, I’m not ready, Natsu. I don’t think I could handle it…” all the reasons refreshing in her mind. “I have no experience with with kids. What if we screw up? It’s just…” Lucy sighed. “I think… I’m too overwhelmed right now.”

“Okay, well— they make those things now, the, um, end pregnancy stuff.”

“I don’t know…”

“Lucy, I’ll support whatever decision you make.”

“You say that now, but later you’ll probably resent me for… kil— doing that,” she mumbled.

“I don’t know that so neither can you. All I do know is that yes it might hurt— but you’re the important thing right now, and if you say you’re not ready, then I have to accept it. Kids are never easy, I doubt all the preparation in the world can really make a difference. But Lucy,” he took her hand and held it to his chest. “As long as I’ve known you, whatever you choose to do you’re great at it.”

“Really?” She looked up with hope filling her eyes for the first time all day.

Natsu smiled. “And who better to start a family with?” He cupped her cheeks and kissed her. “Then a smart, sassy, beautiful woman like you.”

Lucy’s eyes flooded with tears. “You really think we can make it work?”

He nodded. “As long as it’s something we really want, then yeah.”

After a momentary pause, Lucy let out a long stabilizing exhale. “Okay. I’ll call my doctor and make an appointment tomorrow to check.”

“Really? Y-You sure? Because I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to coax you into this.”

“No, I-I’m pretty— sure. Things sometimes happen for a reason, right? Maybe it’s meant to be.”

Natsu pulled her in for another longer kiss. “Guess I better hurry up and marry you then,” he chuckled.

She snorted a laugh. “I guess so mister!”

He pulled her close again, hugging her to his chest. “I love you so much baby.”

“Mmm, I love you too.”

“My own baby momma,” he teased.

Lucy slapped his chest with a giggling shriek. “Don’t you dare call me that!”

“Oh,” he grinned, “I’m totally getting t-shirts made.”

#fairy tail #nalu #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu drabble #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #nalu au #pregnancy

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bmsunra · 3 years

Text

BMS Red Thirst Chapter 0

Prologue

The examiner stared at his eyes as Kil fixed his eyes a the blood in the bowl. It sat inside a glass box that sat on a table, and Kil was made to sit on the chair five metres from it.

Kil knew the proctor was looking for any abnormal alteration in his eyes, nose, and lips. Any sign that showed he want to consume the human blood, the examiner would fail him the test and mark him leech on the Arinyr Card.

But Kil knew the bald headed, pumpkin belly middle aged man would get nothing from him. He felt no craving nor the thirst. If anything he thought he was repelled by the sight of the human blood.

The examiner waved a hand, and his assistant, a slim young girl, walked over, threw a creamy shroud over the glass box, cutting the sight of the blood.

“Turn right,” the examiner said, who was sitting behind the table, playing with a pen.

Kil’s brown Arinyr Card was on the table in front of him.

Any unwanted suggestion Kil gave him, he would punch a seal and sign the second slot of the card as ‘leech’. The next day, BLC officials from Kuve would come and take him to the Asyl of the leech.

Kil swivelled right.

In the same distance as the glass box was a bulky monitor ontop a similar iron table. Currently its display was black, but Kil knew what was coming for he had taken this test before when he was only twelve.

The display flickered and something gory replaced the blackness; A man dying, his gut was opened by some ragged blade, its entails was spilled out over chest and the asphalt.

Kil flinced.

“Eyes on the screen,” the examiner said.

The next video was more grisly. It looked as if it was caught on hidden camera. A little girl of not more than twelve was sawing her wrist a razor, blood spurting all over as she did. Kil had to endure five more similar videos, which he went throug with peeled eyes. He had to. One of them had nothing do with sharp razor or entails, but just a young boy feeding blood by his mother from a glass bowl. The boy drank it as if were milk. Kil knew he would take some days forgetting it.

He found himself wondering how his twelve years old self manage to forget all these.

By the time the monitor went black again, Kil’s stomach had been twisted to uncountable knots. This was what the examiner wanted. He wanted to see how he react. Kil only reacted like a normal human would.

The BLC should come up with a less grim method to filter out leech. Maybe a blood taste or by studing a tissue of something. People with the thirst must surely have different biochemistry than normal human.

The examiner leaned over his Arinyr Card and scribbled pass in the second slot, stamped the BLC seal and signed over it. The pretty assitant ushered him outside.

Kil was sure she wink at him at the door way.

Jiyu and Jie were waiting outside. Kil sat down next to Jiyu. Jie turned twelve this year, so she was taking the test as well. She shivered visibly. Her big sister, Jiyu was tying to calm her down. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Jiyu was fourteen. She had to wait for her fifteen for her second Arinyr test.

There were around dozen kids in the waiting room. All of them had either their mother or father or both with them to quell theri anxiety. Kil, Jiyu and Jie had only themselves.

“I heard the new examiner is creepy?” Jiyu asked in a low voice. On hearing her sister question, Jie shirvelled and displayed fear in her eyes.

To Kil’s eyes the examiner wasn’t scary. If anything he was funny looking, with the melon belly and the bald and the bushy moustache.

“I don’t know about that but he got a super hot assistan,.” Kil said, which earned him a stern look from Jiyu.

Jie seemed she didn’t heard his respose, staring at the floor and shaking uncontrollable.

“You have a girlfriend remember?” Jiyu said pointing at herself, a slender silver bracelet glinted around her tiny dainty wrist.

“I do,” Kil shrugged.

“Jie Tsuyo,” the pretty assitant annouced.

Jie got to her feet.

“Be strong, sister,” Jiyu said.

Jie made her way inside without a word.

Kil remembered drenched in sweat from nervouseness on his frist test. His father there that day to comfort him though.

The pretty assitant came out again and headed for the washroom, but not without flashing a smile at three boys in the waiting room. Kil included. But Jiyu hadn’t noticed that he wasn’t alone. Like the rest of the boys who received the smile, Kil grinned dreamily. That earned him a elbow from his girlfriend.

“Ouch.” Kil let out little too loud.

Few turned their heads, but linger their gaze not more than two seconds. They had their own worries. If their child failed the test they would them. Kil heard not many return from the Asyl in Rachi, and he never knew or see anyone who came back in his life. He also heard they came back crazy. So naturally, none like the idea of room in the eerie building in the east Island of Akerin.

The kids were truly frightened too. Specially the twelve years. At least they had a parent. Kil’s was pretty carefree about the test, and Kil knew he had nothing to worry, so he told him to rest at home. Jie’s parents had a reason too; they forgot.

“You scare for Jie?” Kil asked Jiyu.

Jiyu’s scowling vanished, replaced by a face of worried.

“I’m scare a little bit,” she said. “They won’t take away a twevel years old girl, will they? They should seperate a child from their parents how irresponsible they are.”

Kil fully knew BLC take leech of any age, as young as seven, to the Asyl for correction, to get rid of the thirst. He also knew he shouldn’t share this information with Jiyu right now. He put an arm around her, and drew her closer.

“I’m sure Jie is strong.”

Ten minutes later Jie came out, which meant she passed lest they woud’ve taken her through the back door and kept her locked in a room.

Jiyu dashed to her little sister and hugged her. But was more scared than ever. She shivered harder as she hugged her sister back. She was teary.

Kil did’t understand how people are easily frighten.

“Let’s get away from this creepy place,” Jiyu said. “You hungry Jie?”

Jie bobbed her head. She still looked nervous.

Kil peddled the bike hard and drove away fast from the Senggu’s clinic where they set up Arinyr test centre for the year. Jie clung to her sister from behind on a seperate bike. They raced to the nearest foodstall. They bought currywursts. Kil didn’t have money, so Jiyu paid for three of them. She sometime worked at the town’s market when needed money. She accept whatever work was available.

They parked their bikes beside the road, flopped down on the grasses, ate their food and watched the sunset. A grass field spread in front of them. Five kids were flying kites in the windy sky. It was late summer, and the heat had abated heralding autumn. The sun was bright red and lonely, casting its last light on the green field and the mountain ranges. It’s Kil’s favorite part of the day.

“I hate this,” Jiyu said, holding out the food in front of her.

“Then why did you order it?” Kil asked.

“I only did because you two did. I don’t want to be left out.”

Jie munched her food in silence. Her eyes in the distance, as if her mind was somewhere else.

“Nobody forced you.” Kil said.

Jie finished her food, and ran into the field toward the kid. She asked one of the kid to allow her fly the kite. Once she hold the strong she looked happy for the first time of the day.

“In the city,” Jiyu said after a while, “I heard they have the greatest food. And one can easily find work.”

“I heard the cities are dangerous, specially in the capital,” Kil said. “Plus I thought you want to become a writer. Why are you so interest in working part time?”

“My part-time money bought this,” she shook her food in front of Kil. Kil bit a moutful at his. “It’s also the reason why I need to leave this Senggu,” Jiyu said. “In city I could easily find a mentor, and work to pay for the mentor.”

“Leave then,” Kil said. “My father and me are staying here for a while. Father loves Senggu, so do I.”

“Yes, it’s a good town for farmer and florist and the likes.” she said. “But not for someone like me with dreams. My parents were born in Senggu, so did their parents. I don’t want to end my life here. You won’t understand anyway. You don’t have a dream. You and your father came here to rot and perish.”

“Father said, we never have home before we settled here,” Kil said. “He always said how lucky we were that his friend gave us a place we could call home.”

“You are at your destination. I’m at my beggining. You’ve left your cage, I’m still in mine.”

“Leave Senggu then,” Kil said again.

“I CAN’T,” Jiyu said. “I can’t leave Jie with my parents. Father came drunk yesterday and fought with mother. We hid in the closet again.”

Jiyu sniffed. There was silence for a while.

“And I can’t leave you too,” Jiyu said after composing herself. “You are my boyfriend now, aren’t you. You promised to my maiden promise.”

Jiyu held her silver braclet in front of him. Kil remembered she made him promise to stay with her forever one year ago when she got her maiden bracelet when she turned thirteen.

“Let say I’ve a dream,” Kil said. “What if I left town in persue for it. What will do you do then?”

“I’ll come with you. We promise to stay together. That’s what we will do, right.”

“Right.”

The sun had set, the twilight had settled. Jie was flying kite in the field. A kid, probably the owner of the kid, was tugging at her skirt. But she wouldn’t let go of the thread reel.

“Let’s fly kite,” Kil said to Jiyu.

“No. It’s getting dark. Let’s go home.”

But Kil had already started running down toward the field. Jiyu was calling his name behind him.

“Come,” he yelled back, “let’s see who fly hi…”

Kil stumbled on a hard stone and tumbled forward headfirst. He dove headlong to the field filled with pebbles and gravels, and slid for a whole metre before he stopped. He flipped over, saw the blue sky. He saw two kites in his vision. His forehead hurt. He reached it with his hand. “Ouch!” he jerked it back as the pain double when touch. Little blood came on the tips of his fingers.

“Kil brother,” Kil heard Jie’s voice. And a loud laugher of Jiyu’s voice.

Jie’s head appeared in his vision, looking down at him.

“You okay?”

Kil sat up on the damp and rough surface. Somehow his bad luch had brough him to a grass free, but stony area. Jiyu was few metres away. She doubled over and guffawed. Kil started to snickered to at his own folly. Three kite runners who had seen him diving were cackling too, pointing there hands at him.

The only one who truly worried about him was Jie. But Jiyu also stopped laughing when she saw the blood trickling down his face. The sisters pulled him up, and they came home.

On the way, Jiyu bought a bottle of water, and cleaned the injury, and his face.

“Take a stick as soon as you get home,” Jiyu said. “Don’t worry there won’t be any scar. It’s minor.”

Kil wasn’t worried much. They drove merrily as before back home. It was almost completely dark when they reached their gate.

“See you tomorrow, Killian brother,” Jie said. Jiyu simply smiled a goodbye of the day.

The two sisters went through their wooden fence gate. Next to Tsuyo’s gate was Kil’s iron fence gate. He pushed his bike inside, and parked the bike in the shed near the gate. He saw shadow of his father through the semi-transperant glass of the greenhouse. He must be watering his flowers. He went in the house quickly to look at a mirror.

A thin red line one-and-half inch, started from the corner of his forhead and slanted toward his left eyebrow. He must’ve grazed sharp edge of a stone. The blood had dried up. It was a minor cut, nevertheless it would leave a scar if he didn’t take a healing serum within twent-four hour. From the cupboard, he took out the small metallic box in which they kept their serums. He set it down the round eating table and flopped himself down on a chair.

He picked out the syringe first, and started looking for vial that content pale yellow fluid. But all he found was tiny empty glass vial.

“We’ve ran out of serum a week ago.”

Father came in limply, supporting by a walking stick. His father was in his sixties, but he looked much older, with all his hair gone white, and the walking stick to help his impaired leg.

Father limped over, squinted his eyes at his son’s temple, studying the shallow cut.

“Hmm,” he said, displaying little concern. “I’ll get one or two tomorrow morning. Does it hurt? Sleep on painkiller.”

Kil had a reason not to believe his father’s word. And he would need a healing serum in twelve-hour if he wish to avoid scar.

The healing serum or SOMA serum could heal any wounds and injuries, given one inject it everyday until it completely heal. It also healed faster than normal human healing speed. It could even grow a severed limb if the person could afford a vial everyday for at least ten months. And the best thing about SOMA is that the wound wouldn’t leave any scars.

“You’ll get it tomorrow morning!,” he couldn’t hide the frustration in his voice. “Where woud you get money to buy it?”

Kill pulled his left sleeve to his elbow, revealing seven old scars in his forearm. It marred his rather smooth skin, “Remember when you made the same promise?” Kil said.

In Akerin, in the era of SOMA serum, the beggars and urchins had visible scars. And those who were so poor that they couldn’t buy a vials of healing serum. A scars on his brow was tantamount to saying, ‘I’m poor. I’m poor.’ Kil could hide the scars on his arm, even if he had to wear long sleeve everytime. But he couldn’t walk into school campus with one on the brow.

“I have some flowers I could see,” father said.

“Your stupid flower couldn’t fetch five-hundred ged let alone hundred ged for a nice meal.”

His father knew he was right.

“I’ll get a vial, I promise,” father said. “Let me put this bandage over it for now.”

He let him.

Kil knew the predicament his father was in. He had jobs before the accident that crippled his left leg. But he couldn’t help but mad at him.

“How’s the test?” father asked cleaning the cut the skin around it.

“Nothing.”

“Jie’s?” father asked again, putting the adhesive bandage over the cut.

Father didn’t asked about Jiyu last year when she gave her test. But he was always fond of little Jie. Kil found himself wishing his father like Jiyu as much as he like Jie. Then he immediately realized how childish the thought was.

“Nothing,” Kil said.

“Let’s eat dinner.” father said. “I’ve prepared your favorite …”

“I’m not hungry,” Kil said, still mad at his father. “I’m off to bed.”

Kil left his poor father alone and came to his room.

👾👽👼👻👺👹💣✌😈💩😷👀💀

On the bed

Kil found himself recalling Jiyu’s desire to live in the city. If he were in the city, he could find a part job. Money of a week work might be enough to buy a vial of serum.

Father dressed his bruises and scar once again, and put on adhesive bandage over it, and medicine to the bruised and cuts.

At dinner there was silence. A simple dinner of rice, and vegetable stew.

After dinner, when he was in his room, father came to give him a the painkiller. He gulped it down with a glass of water. Then he lay on the bed. But he couldn’t rest.

He had enough trouble trying to hide the scars on his hand. They only person who wasn’t disgusted by it was his mother, but she wasn’t with him now. Only the homeless and beggars in the streeth had scars in Akerin.

He almost gone to sleep when the sound of fighting came from the neighbour. Jiyu’s father and mother. It’s late. She must be unable to sleep as well. Her parents fought all the time. If it wasn’t night she would come to Kil’s house, and his father would keep the two sisters company until the fight was over.

Kil distracted the screaming and shouting with his own thought. Father had no money to buy serum, even though he said he would. Father only sold two to three flower pot a day, which wasn’t enough even for food. He didn’t have saving. This could like before.

There was a way though. Kil knew a way to get money instantly. If he go out, he could buy the serum early morning tomorrow.

He could bleed.

Selling blood was illegal in Akerin. It had been for many years.

One could sell to a govt. Medical fecily, but they didn’t pay much. But selling to blood dealer pay thrice the money. Kil knew the dealer of Senggu.

In Akerin, selling blood to a leech was the second most hated sin, the first one was being a leech and drinking blood. Since the bood dealer were selling the blood the collected to the leech, almost exclusively the citizen loathed them, and the police would without delay shove them into prison, if caught.

Near midnight, the fighting from Jiyu’s house had died.

At was near midnight, Kil put on his shoes and jacket and jumped out of the window, careful not to wake up father when he land. Not long after he waking down the street toward the town market. It was just a ten minutes walk. Most of the shops had been closed, and an eeri quietness had settled the area. Sounds of night insects had replaced the clamour and din of the crowd that was normal in the morning and day.

Blood dealing was ban in all over Akerin. The one in Senggu was ran by a nameless man, he can only be summoned from the bar. Kil, underage, so he went to the backdoor. As he heard the rumour, he told the big man there he wanted the blood dealer.

I’m looking for Sinner’s Door,

Not long after he was led through a dark corridor inside the building. The guard left him in a small room. Kil took a chair. The room strangely smelt of strong perfume. The dealer came after five minutes. He asked his name.

“Killian Vidar,” he said.

The man seemed taken aback by his name. But it was brief. Then explain the amount of blood Kil had to bleed, and the price, and how long it would take. Kil was more than happy to learn that for 500 grams of blood he could buy two vials. Which would be enough in his case.

The dealer was about to take him away from the room, when another man showed up. The man was tall and thin, had long red hair under a leather hat. He wore a long coat that matched the color of his hat.

“I’m here.”

The dealer stole a glance at Kil before he answer, “And your promise.”

The stranger reached into his coat and pulled out a thick envelope. It was easy to guess the money inside. The dealer took it, told Kil to wait for a while and led the stranger out of the room. Kil was certain he man was here to buy blood. That meants he was a leech. It’s scary to remind the leech who drink human blood and human look the same. There was no way to distinguish the two by merely obsering or looking. They coould be anyone in the Senggu. Kil wodnered how many leech were there in the town, secretly buying blood from the dealer to drink at dinner, like a premium wine.

The dealer came back alone after a while, asked Kil to follow and he did.

Kil followed him down another the dim corridor. Red bulbs lit from the ceiling, and it smelt the same perfume in the small room. This corridor had doors on the side, Some of them were opened ajar, Kil peeked inside as he passed them. He saw people on strechable couch with tube in the arm pumping blood. Bleeding. There were at least four chair in each room and six such rooms in this corridor. They turned right and headed down another similiar corridor. This one had single bleeder in a single smaller bleeding room. More private. Toward the end he passed a room inwhjich he saw the man from earlier with the hat. His back was on him blocking the view of the bleeder.

The dealer asked Kil to enter the room at the end. Kil almost enter in when heard it ...

“I know what you want of me. I’ll never become one of you.” It came from the room the man in hat was in and Kil didn’t had to see the speaker. He knew instantly.

Father. Kil tracked back and peered inside the room.

There he was, stretching on the chair, tube in his arm, blood ranning from his system into a plastic package under the chair. His walking stick propped up against it.

“I’ll get it from your dead body if I have to,” the man in hat said to his father.

His father cursed.

“Father.” The word escaped from Kil.

The man in hat turned.

Father was obviously shocked to see him here. His eyes went wide, glancing between him and the man in hat. It took a long moment until he spoke. “What are you doing here?”

“Father,” Kil’s voice came in low and with trace of sadness that grew inside him on realising his father was selling his own blood to buy serum for him, for the scar he got trying to fly a stupid kite.

The dealer came up behind him, grabbed his arm, and tried to drag him away. “We are sorry Mr. …”

The man in hat waved his hand, “Hold on,” he said, studied Kil. “Son?”

“I didn’t know.” said the dealer.

“Father why are you here?” Kil asked his father.

“You shouldn’t be here. Run.”

A knife appeared in the hand of the man in hat, silencing Kil and his father. He gestured to the dealer, and Kil was grabbe from behind, immobolised him.

“Don’t touch my son,” his father’s weak voice said.

The man in hat proceed anyway. “Let see if you’ve have the same thing as you old pop.” Then he reacched out and grabed Kil’s scarred left arm.

Kil tried to wriggel free, but the man too strong for a boy of fifteen.

Then the man slice Kil’s palm. Blood started to creep out of the cut. Pain shot though his hand. Kil cried out in pain. Then man in hat brough his hand to his mouth and suck the blood of his palm.

The man swalllowed. Grimaced, and spat to the side. Disgusted by the taste of it. He shool his head in disappointemnet. “Take his away,” he said to the dealer, and stood and turned toward his fatherm his knife gleamed in front of his father’s face. His father was frightened, Kil could tell.

The dealer grabbed Kil by the shoulders and started pulling him away from the room.

The man in hat was going to kill his father for his blood, Kil thought. His heart start to pung heavily agaisnt his chest, audibly. Line of sweat ran down from his temple to his face, and he could feel his whole body stated to perspire.

“FATHER,” Kil screamed. “DON’T KIL MY FATHER.”

“He won’t,” said the dealer from behind.

The man in hat turned back around. “Shut him up,” tha man in hat commanded the dealer.

“DON’T KIL HIM,” Kil yelled, trying to free from the dealer’s grab.

Father looked Kil in his eyes, “Find your mother,” he said.

The man in hat took a step toward Kil, and backhanded him hard in his face. It was so powerful, instantly knock Kil out.

When Kil opened his eyes, the man in hat wasn’t in the room, nor the blood dealer. His father was still in the chair, but he wasn’t moving. Not moving at all. His throat was sliced open, blood from the opening drenched his entire bodice. His skin was ghastly, almost as white as paper. They had drained his blood.

Kil pushed himself up, his right cheek hurt like hell.

His father’s eyes had been closed. How considerate of the killer. The man in hat. Kil looked at his soulless father, laying there like a baby, unaware of the rage burning inside his son. He cried holding his dead father. He cried, gritted his teeth, clenched his fist and vowed.

Nine months later, Kil slit the throat of his first leech victim.

Three months later from his first victim, he stabbed the 30th leech to death.

Eight months later from his 30th kill, he gored the guts out of the 60th leech.

Soon every leeches in Akerin heard his name. Kill rejoiced hearing his reputation. Yet he wasn’t done. Until he avenged his father.

Jie saw his blood, and drew her in. she looked away. Missing handkerchief, piece whic Jiyu gave it tomm him.

His father wasn’t happy either. He had his own scars, multiple, in his chest, thigh, forarms and back, that he got from working in multiple jobs. He did his best, Kil knew.

He got that when he was five playing with a harvesting machine. His hand stuck in it for half an hour. Father didn’t have the money to buy serum, so he left it to his own natural healing which did a fine job healing completely in three months, but the the scars remained.

#red thirst

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hxhhunterxhunter · 4 years

Text

Onii-Chan (Child reader)

⭐️Chapter 4: Illu-Oniisan! 💧

There as only 369 applicants who had made it through so far.

As everyone ran behind Mr Satotz, in the Numere Wetland, trying to keep up with him.

"Pay attention now!" Satotz told the Applicants. "Be sure to stay very close behind me."

Y/n was running with Hisoka, well she was more being carried by her brother while he ran. After a bit she wanted to run with Killua and Gon so hisoka let her and secretly kept an eye on the small female

"Hai!" Gon and Killua looked at the small female, who was skipping next to them.

"Hi Y/n-chan!" Gon smiled at the small girl.

Killua looked at the small female and mumbled the word 'brat' under his breath as she walked with them, not the biggest fan of her, since she IS Hisoka's sister and had been with his brother so he didn't exactly know her.

"Gon.." Gon looked at Killua.

"huh" Gon looked at Killua waiting for an answer

"Let's move up"

"Okay." Gon replied to Killua " We don't want to loose site of the examiner"

"I'm more concerned with increasing the distance between us and Hisoka.."

Killua continued "Staying to close to Hisoka is dangerous... I can smell it in the air."

Gon was confused at Killua's statement. "He doesn't smell?"

"Onii-Chan isn't dangerous..." Y/n said to the 2 males next to her. They both sweat dropped at hearing the female's statement, she probably didn't know but Hisoka did kill someone a few minutes ago...

As the 3 continued to run, Gon yelled out, calling Kurapika and Leorio

"Kurapika! Leorio! Killua says we should move up!" Killua seem to be displeased at Gon's actions.

"Hey..." Gon and Y/n looked at Killua"Can't you feel the tension surrounding us?"

"Idiot!" Leorio yelled back at Gon. "If I had the strength, I'd be there!"

"Don't worry about us!" Kurapika had told Gon.

"What?" Gon yelled back. Y/n was just listening to what her 3 friends were saying.

"Let's go Gon. Brat" Killua started to pick up the pace.

"My name is Y/n" She huffed and followed behind Killua, along with Gon.

As they continued, they couldn't find Satotz anywhere. As the trio ran, hearing screams all around them.

"I can hear screams all around us..." Gon said, worried for all the other applicants.

"Just stay on your guard.." Killua told the 2 who nodded.

"I wonder if Kura-Oniisan and Leo-Oniisan are Okay..." Y/n said softly.

"I'm sure they're fine." Gon smiled at the female, staying positive. Y/n dropped her plush on the ground and went back to grab it. She pulled it out of the Mud and noticed that Gon and Killua were gone from her sight.

"Kil-Oniisan? Gon-Onisan?" She looked around, not noticing the giant frog-in-waiting was walking away.

Her eyes started to swell up with tears not knowing where anyone was, she was lost.

"Hey kid, what's wrong?" A strange man asked as he went up to the small female who held a fox in her arms.

"I lost m-my friends and m-my Onii-chan!" She sniffed and wiped her tears.

"Let me take you to them."

~~~~~~~~

"But hisoka OniiChan... I don't wanna!" The 3 year old female cried. The female had just learnt what Nen was from her older brother, who was trying to teach her.

"It's okay my sweet flower~" He patted the small female's head, making her slowly stop crying, it was Hisoka's way of telling her to calm down, or reward her for doing something.

It's what Y/n grew up with so when he headpat her she knew to either be quiet or be happy. Sometimes she doesn't know which one.

"Your big brother will protect you~ But if anyone comes up to you, and you don't know them, Kill them." A dark aura emitted from Hisoka. Y/n looked at her brother, understanding what he meant.

He was telling her to keep herself safe when he goes out, since she got use to him leaving her now and again, but leaves her with his friend Illumi, or a guy named Chrollo. But in the future she would be alone and have to protect herself.

"Now show me your Nen again~"

"Okie Hisoka Oniisan!"

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey mister?" The guy looked at the small female who was holding her fox plush.

"Wanna see my party trick? I've been working on it to show it off to my Onii-chan!" The male looked at female as she unzipped the back of her fox plush, and pulled out a coin, it had a spider's web on the one side and a spider on the other. She zipped the fox closed.

"Make a wish!" She said to him, as a small glow emitted from the coin. "and say tails or heads, the spider is heads and the web is tails!"

The male was bending down to the small female's height. "Alright then, Heads and if I win I get to pass the hunter exam." The male looked at the coin, ready for the female to throw it.

"Okie, If the coin shows the web, my fox can kill you." Her eyes went dark, a small amount of blood lust emitted from the tiny girl, before the male could do anything, she threw the coin and caught it. As she opened her palm to reveal the spider's web, her fox plush started to grow bigger and stood next to the small female, as it ran and attacked the older male.

As blood was splattered on the ground the female got out of her daze and realized what happened.

"Will Hisoka-Oniichan give me a headpat?" She thought out loud to herself and noticed that her fox was growling at another person who was approaching.

She looked up to see a male covered in needles. He started to pull them out to reveal a male Y/n was happy to see.

"Illu-Oniisan!" She squealed and ran over to the male as she hugged him happily. Her fox soon turned back into a plush and sat on the ground next to the dead body that was shredded to pieces.

The black haired male patted the female's head, from what Hisoka told him that Y/n liked headpats and to do it to reward her if she killed someone for her to learn that she can kill people.

Illumi looked at the devoured human who was next to the girl's plush as he patted the girl's head.

'Hisoka was right, her nen is powerful...' Illumi thought. 'her party tricks shouldn't be taken as a joke... her nen could be even more powerful that Hisoka's...'

~~~~~~~~

What do you think! I'm probably never gonna properly explain her nen, but I'm gonna say it here.

She is related to Hisoka sooo I wanted to give her a funny nen, like Hisoka has Bungee gum and Texture surprise.

Y/n's nen type is a specialist, she has 100% over all the nen types like Kurapika's Emperor time also with a power to grant a wish, She calls her power(s) party tricks.

Flipping a coin can grant any wish and the other side of the coin will cause something drastic like death. (Called Spider's Coin, cuz coin has a spider on it), If she creates confetti, it turns into tiny bombs that will explode once it touches a person (Called Bombfetti) If she has a streamer she can create it into any type of snake, poisonous mostly, to kill someone (Called Snake party) There are a lot of powers in her nen, so she calls the general of her powers Party tricks because they are used at parties from what she heard from Hisoka.

All the items needed for her nen are conjurer from her Fox, which has a nen connected to it. It's also her weapon since it turns into a real fox to help her fight and can conjure items when she opens the zipper.

Our baby is growing up and is powerful *sniffs*

Thank you for reading! And for all your support on this book ^^

Masterlist

#Hunter X Hunter #hunter x hunter fluff #hunter x hunter x reader #hxh x reader #HXH #Onii-chan

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babyflossy · 4 years

Text

club coartada | m.l

gif credits to owner

in the daytime part 2! you can read part one here!

pairing: mark x reader

summary: you meet a kind boy named mark who seems to be the only source of comfort in your drug-fueled pity party.

genre: gang au

warnings: swearing, unedited (i’m gonna edit it in the morning)

word count: 2.9k

a few weeks later and the pencilled list hidden under your floorboards was now finished. every name had been scribbled out, leaving you over half a million dollars richer but bored. originally you had planned to leave the city as soon as the list was finished, but the dark alleys and neon lights had made you strangely sad to leave. so, you stayed; finding that beyond the city's carefully structured facade, gang crime and paid killings were rampant, perfect for you. it took no longer than a day for your next client to get in touch with you, a disgustingly rich businessman who needed someone to deal with a mole in his company. you didn't think twice before accepting the job, arranging a meeting.

club coartadawas hidden away in the city centre, nothing but a small sign and a steep flight of stairs separating it from curious onlookers. with a cautious state of mind, you slowly made your way into the club. meeting with new clients was always tense, neither side fully trusting the other. the stairs led to a heavy metal door home to a tall muscular security guard that stared you down as you tried to enter.

"id?" he demanded as a darkly clothed arm reached out to barricade you in the stairwell. you jumped slightly, the sudden movement startling you. the ghoulish smirk that settled on his face made your stomach drop and you avoided his eyes as you pulled out your work id card. lia kim was written clearly next to your photo on the id, claiming you were from london. in reality, you had never even visited london before, but you doubted anyone believed what they read on id cards at places like this. the bouncer nodded at you and handed it back, pulling open the door for you, his greedy eyes following you as you moved beneath his arm.

the club was grander than you had expected. a large circular room with shimmering gold walls greeted you, the metallic smell of money mixing with what you thought was champagne. a wine-red bar covered the circumference of nearly a third of the room, bartenders busily mixing drinks for the customers lounging around. dark suited men stood periodically around the room; eyes focused on the people loitering around, discreetly listening. the one closest to the door nodded at you in acknowledgment, reading through a leather book on the table next to him. he seemed to be trying to figure out who you were from the list, you spied small descriptions next to the names. seo younghowas written at the top, the accompanying description read tall, dark hair... the book slammed shut before you could read anything more, the worker's eyes boring into yours.

"miss kim lia?" you nodded once at him, watching the way his eyes skirted around the room, surveying the atmosphere before he left his post and started walking towards the only other door in the room. "right this way." a white gloved hand pushed a combination into the keypad too quickly for you to remember and you sighed in disappointment. the hand pushed the door open for you and you didn't bother to thank him as you walked through.

beyond the door was a simple corridor, identical metal doors lining the walls. out of the dozen doors only four of them were open, the chatter spilling into the hallway. you were led to the furthest door from the entrance, your shoes clicking noisily on the stone floor. halfway to your destination, a door to your right swung open violently and you jumped back to avoid being hit. you smiled politely at the men exiting. a tall man with dark hair – you wondered if this was the seo young ho from the book but dismissed it as you realised many people here would be described as such – walked quickly out the room, a slightly shorter man with lighter hair following swiftly behind, a smug expression over his face. you froze as you saw the last man exit. smaller than his predecessors but still towering over you, you met mark's eyes before looking away immediately.

praying that he hadn't recognised you, you tried to slip past the door, but mark's voice stopped you. "y/n?" his voice was hushed, and you looked back to see the men he was with had left already, not waiting for him. "what are you doing here?" he looked unbelievably confused and you wanted nothing more than to evaporate on the spot.

possible outcomes shot through your mind. he had used your real name, you couldn't admit to being y/n, you had to pretend to not know who he was. you schooled your expression into one of impatience before you replied. "sorry, do i know you? you must have me mistaken. i'm lia, not y/n." the doubt that flashed across mark's face was reassuring. deep down, you knew he understood what you were doing, and you were thankful when he apologised politely and started down the hallway again.

letting out the breath you didn't realise you had been holding, you were led into the meeting room with your client. the room was more lavishly furnished than the bar you had passed through earlier, deep purple couches surrounded a modern glass coffee table. a glittering crystal chandelier hung low over the table, casting reflections onto the walls creating an almost magical effect. the man on the farthest sofa stood when you entered, an impish smile on his aged face. his hair was shining grey in the warm glow of the chandelier. he waved off the workers in the room, his watery eyes never leaving you. he gestured to the couch in front of him, holding a glass of what looked like champagne out to after you had seated yourself. the velvet was soft under your hands and you toyed with the edge of the fabric as the man introduced himself.

"my name is dr. kil si'u, but you can call me simon," his voice was gravelly but not unkind. he watched you take a sip of what you were now sure was champagne before continuing, "and i already know who you are." he spoke with a gentle pleasantry unexpected from someone ordering a hit on an employee.

"i assume you have the file i requested?" you prompted, reaching your hand out when he produced a brown paper envelope from his jacket pocket. you slid your thumb under the seal and pulled out its contents. photos of the man in question adorned the glossy paper. in the office, on his commute home, an up-close photo of him on a phone call. flicking through the pages until you found his personal information, you displayed the rest on the coffee table in front.

the victim's birth name, age and workplace were written in clear black ink at the top of the page, followed by more personal information, like his home address, the name of his wife, the location of his local golf club. hwang seojun stared back at you from the pristine papers. you eyed the man in front of you carefully. he had given you all the information you required and more, you wondered if he either really wanted this man dead, or this was his first-time ordering a hit on someone.

"why?"

he looked almost surprised by the question and waited until he had sipped his own champagne flute a few times before answering. "he's been leaking information to the authorities, important information that could be detrimental to our welfare."

"what type of information?" you disguised your curiosity by claiming this was necessary information for the case. truthfully, anything other than the victim's name was to satisfy your inquisitive nature. simon's eye narrowed marginally and he took a moment to ponder over what to reply, you watching his reaction carefully.

"you're in this line of work," he started, index finger dancing lightly around the rim of the glass he was still holding. leaning back into the couch you waited with his response. a knock at the door distracted him and he waved the server away distractedly. "we work closely with people who do horrible; however immoralthey may seem to outsiders, they're necessary, they happen all the time. you of all people should understand how dangerous the police meddling can be."

"if you're asking me to kill someone working with the police, i'll have to raise the price," simon's eyebrows raised slightly in shock, but you continued. "these jobs are dangerous; the police often offer protection to people who give them information. it means i'm more likely to be caught, therefore i'll have to raise the price."

"by how much? name the price and i'll pay." that little sentence reminded you so fully of why you loved working with businessmen. they really had no idea what they were agreeing to.

"115,000 dollars," he whistled lowly in appreciation. were you overcharging? yes, massively so. but why wouldn't you if they always pay. "i operate on a half now, half later basis." you raised your eyebrows expectantly.

he seemed to think about it for a moment, weighing up the pros and cons. "will i get photo confirmation?"

"certainly."

"very well, let's do it," you shook the hand outstretched and watched in glee as he called for his assistant, a heavy black leather brief case appearing on the table between you. once clicked open, you saw it was completely brimmed with green paper notes. the assistant pulled on a pair of white gloves and offered you an identical pair. you pulled them on in delight. carefully the man pulled out twelve blocks of notes, taking the rubber band off each one and expertly counted them in front of you. 120,000 dollars sat in front of you and you looked up in question. "i'll add an extra 5,000 for a rush on this, yes?"

"it's been a pleasure doing business with you."

down the scope of a psgi sniper rifle, hwang seojun was getting out of his car. a sleek black convertible, showing off his status to the deserted suburban street. he raked a bare hand through his bleached hair, pushing his sunglasses on top of his head. you watched him pause in front of a parking metre, resting his hand on top, giving you an unobstructed view of his torso. perfect, you thought, steading your hands and aiming the gun directly at his head.

it was a warm night, the absence of a breeze making your job just that little bit easier. the only thought crossing your mind as you pulled the trigger was the second instalment of the payment, thinking in elation of the things you could buy now. after hwang seojun's lifeless body hit the pavement, you lowered the gun, instead picking up the camera next to you on the rooftop. you zoomed in until the features of the body were visible, ensuring to get his car's registration plate in the background for extra measure. the photo would be sent by midnight, the rest of your money hopefully following shortly.

you weren't sure if it was the hefty sum of money you had received, or the ease of accepting that made you meet dr. kil si'u again, but you found yourself reclined in the same luxurious room less than a week after your first meeting with him. dressed in a dark blue suit that aged him unforgivingly, he handed you an envelope almost identical to the first. "after seeing how affective you were with our last deal, i'd like to offer you a similar price for another hit."

inside the envelope glossy paper showed you a woman, dark eyes but light hair with a dazzling smile. she didn't look ten years older than you, some of the photos were her latched on the arm of the man who had been on the other end of your sniper rifle. you assumed it was his wife, the matching wedding rings glinting under silver lights. your suspicions were confirmed when you saw the information page. hwang yeri was beautiful in every outward way. white teeth and a perfect nose made you unsurprised she was married to such a rich man.

it wasn't a question of whether you would accept or not. it would be an easy hit, dr. kil si'u having already proved to be a reliable client. the meeting was short and sweet, leaving the room with 50,000 dollars in cash stuffed into bag. the doors were held open for you as you walked back down the corridor to the entrance. you flickered your eyes around the circular bar one last time, admiring the gold encrusted tables and marble bar top. watching the customers as you opened the door to the street, your heart dropped into your stomach when you saw the man sat at the end of the bar, talking to the bartender. his eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed at whatever the bartender had said. even in the crowded room, his laughter was as clear as the crystal champagne flutes. you thought you could make it outside unnoticed, but as if the universe was laughing at you, the familiar eyes locked on you. you took the stairs two at a time, darting across the street and into an alleyway, scared of him following you.

you knew your luck had run out when you heard fast footsteps behind you. scared to look back, you kept your head firmly forwards until a warm hand clasped around your shoulder. mark spun you around to face him, breathing heavily from running after you. "y/n." it wasn't a question.

"hey, mark," you avoided his eyes as you spoke.

he tried to meet your eyes, but you resisted, instead focusing on a point behind him, surveying the street. "what were you doing in there? who were you meeting?"

taking a gamble, you opted for telling him the truth, slightly. you weren't sure of the other meetings that went on in that club, but you prayed to any higher being it wasn't just illegal mis happenings. "i was meeting with a client." your voice was quiet, and mark had to strain to hear it.

"a client? for what?" you finally looked at him and you were taken straight back to the night on the balcony, thinking about how soft his lips looked.

"for work, mark. why are you asking so many questions?" running away crossed your mind and you weighed up the chance you could outrun him. he looked quite athletic, however, and you knew your chances were slim.

"are you a hitman? or a drug dealer, then? those are the only meetings that happen there." well, shit. so much for being covert. he seemed to notice your panic and his jaw slackened. "you're a fucking hitman–"

"don't say it so loudly, jesus christ!" his voice was muffled as you slapped your hand over his mouth desperately, eyes flitting around you to see if anyone had heard. mark wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled you into an empty alleyway, safe from prying ears.

"i didn't peg you for a hitman, to be honest," he didn't look as disturbed as you would expect, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

"stop trying to peg me, then." the words slipped out before you realised the double meaning and you felt your cheeks blaze. mark sputtered out a laugh, checking again to see if anyone else was in the alleyway. there was a lonely restaurant at the far end, all the tables outside empty and rusted. it looked like they hadn't been used in decades.

"i'm not gonna sell you out to the cops or anything, don't worry." you resisted the urge to laugh at him. if you had even a shadow of doubt in him, he would be dead by now.

"what were you doing in there anyway?" the question made the smile dissipate from his face, his voice careful when he spoke.

"meeting with a dealer, there's a big order coming in soon, i needed the final details."

after finding out what mark did for a living, you spent an unhealthy amount of time scoring the internet for any trail of him. he had mentioned others he worked with, and you suspected the two men you had seen him with would be part of that. you weren't a computer expert, but you had managed to access the security cameras pointing at the club. playing it in reverse and speeding it up, you watched yourself walk backwards into the club, the door swinging open on its own.

it took a while, but you finally found mark's face, accompanied by three other boys. they looked slightly younger than mark, only seeing glimpses of their faces on the screen. caramel hair falling over honey skin, the shortest one made direct eye contact with the camera, as if he knew you were watching. your heart stopped momentarily. the tallest boy had dark brown hair with sharp eyes and harsh jawline. he was whispering into the last boy's ear as they walked out of the club. the last boy looked the happiest, an easy-going smile accompanied and perfectly coiffed blonde hair, two strands of blue framing his face. you committed their faces to memory, determined to find out more about the boy you met at the party.

a/n: i wanna do some nct one-shots but i’m not really sure what about, so send in requests! as always, thank you so much for reading!

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wherearemyglassesbro · 5 years

Note

I’m thinking of starting a blog soon! So uh- if you can answer, if the axis and allies were to go to a fine arts school, what would they do/major in? Thank you! Keep up the good work!

Hell yeah!!! Welcome to the club, bucko!

China: Yao would be a piano master! He takes multiple classes for piano and flute! And he plays the harp too but his heart will always belong to the piano. He takes public speaking classes cause he isn’t the best at it and he learns Chinese instruments with his mom at home :) the way he performs always leaves people in awe, his expressions and the way he plays makes the whole experience magical!! His teachers adore him!

Russia: Ivan is a dancer, watch out man cause he’ll crush your head with his thighs. He’s super tall and strong so he gets the male lead most of the time for ballet performances put on by the school! Cause he lifts his partner so easily and just...glides around that stage! Ivan looks great in sequins and cakey stage makeup :) and he takes very good care of himself, he’s got a *self care* routine that every other dancer at the school is jealous of. He doesn’t talk much cause he doesn’t see the need when he can just express himself through dance! Ivan can do the splits...He enjoys dropping into the splits at home or in the hall at school to freak out his friends and sisters

America: Alfred wants to be a comedian so he’s taking a bunch of theater, public speaking and improv classes! When he’s on stage, he owns it! And he can do a handful of accents! Al’s great at comedic storytelling and takes a LOT of inspiration from Jerry Seinfeld and John Mulaney. He watches their shows/performances and makes notes on them! He’s done multiple assignments on them too so at this point, Al’s teachers know as much about Jerry and John as Al does...RIP

England: Artie wanted to be a musician and came to this performing arts school to learn different instruments like guitar or drums but when he grew out of his punk phase in 10th grade, he realized he wanted to be a writer! So he’s taking theater classes and advanced English/poetry classes to learn as much as he can before being spat back out into the real world to fend for himself. He writes a lot of love poems and then burns them in his fireplace at home cause he believes they’re not good enough. Alfred did a comedy sketch about him once, mocking his accent, and Art threatened to beat him up behind Denny’s at 2am

Canada: Mattie wants to SCULPT!!! Let’s hear if for art bois!!! People expect him to be funny like Al cause they’re twins but Matt just wants to listen to Tessa Violet and sculpt pretty ladies out of wood...That’s all he wants to do :( he takes painting classes and a lot of business related classes cause if he’s gonna sell his art, he wants to know how money works cause it ain’t like anyone else is gonna teach him! He also enjoys widdling and will widdle things out of soap if you ask nicely and buy him a cookie from the lunchroom! His favorite thing to make outta soap are boots “cause you don’t expect soap to be shapes like shoes!”...Nerd

France: Francis has hopped from thing to thing many times! He came to the school for ballet, and continues to take ballet classes, but he found out how much he loved to paint after messing around during tech week for the school’s Big Spring Production as he helped paint the backdrops. So he’s conflicted. He’s been dancing since he was young but he’s found something else he loves! Oh how sad! Fran’s a big drama queen but he’s got such a diverse circle of friends: the writers, actors, dancers, art kids, he knows tons of people and is always out and about! If he sees you crying in the dressing room he’ll run over and hug you! But if you’re his dancing partner he can be very picky “Ugh, NON, stop sickling your foot it looks atrocious!”

S.Italy: Oooooooh boy, Lovino to be a photographer for big brands like GUCCI or Louis Vuitton! But you gotta start at the bottom and work your way up! Lovi is extremely short tempered when he has to work with people his own age and has made his brother cry many times by yelling and nagging. “NO! Look at the CAMERA not ME! You idiot now look! You moved and now he shot’s blurry, nice job!” But despite that, you’ll still find him crying as he edits photos cause he waited until the last possible movement to turn everything in and now he’s gotta cram! But then his perfectionist side kicks in and then he cries even MORE cause ‘I don’t have enough time to make the picture perfect but it needs to look perfect! But I don’t have enough time-‘

N.Italy: Feli wants to be a PAINTER and not just any painter, a realist painter. He loves taking Lovi’s pictures to paint! He goes around and will take pictures of students, with their permission, and will paint them super realistically! He’s painted Ivan and Yao many times cause they’re his buddies and he appreciates them so much!! He’s been to every show their school has put on and he’s always there to cheer others on at art shows, even if he didn’t submit anything to that show. He and Matt work together in the studio sometimes! Matt will let him paint a sculpture or Feli will paint Matt whike he’s working. Feli talks and talks while Mattie listens without a complaint :)

Prussia: Gil is a band boy, he plays the saxophone, clarinet and flute. He’s got a big ol’ lung capacity! He loves music and uses it as a coping mechanism. When he’s having Albino Aches, he plays music to get through it, when he’s frustrated with his peers he plays the sax dramatically and if he’s feeling like a gremlin, he’ll play All Star on the flute to annoy Francis during practice. “Gil! Get out of here!” *vigorous flute sounds*. Gil plays in the pit for shows so even though you don’t see him much, he’s loud and he’s there! He and Yao DONT get along cause Yao is very very serious about music while Gil is just good at it and enjoys it. He doesn’t plan on making a career out of it but he’s having a great time while he’s playing!

Germany: Lud is in an advanced choir and has such a beautiful singing voice UGH DUDE! He gets super embarassed when you compliment him or when Gilbert’s yelling ‘THATS MY BABY BROTHER!! WOOO!!!!’ From the crowd. He’s a freshman there but he auditioned for a hiiiigh up choir and easily got in! He takes great care of his voice, no unnecessary yelling and definetly no smoking. He chides others in his choir for doing so but hey, at the end of the day, Lud knows he’ll just take their places when they ruin their voices! Lud wants to make a career out of singing cause he just...Loves it so much. He worries so much about being in a real serious choir one day :0 His worst fear is that he’ll fail every auditom he goes to! His dad assures him that that won’t happen...And he trusts his dad...So he’ll power through it and sing his kil’ heart out

Japan: Kiku and a few friends want to make their own manga one day! That’s the goal! But for now, they’re all settling for advanced drawing classes and painting classes. They don’t exactly have manga courses at school so they practice that on their own time. They’ve made a bunch of friends through their art program though! And since Kiku speaks English, Japanese and Chinese, he tutors other students who wish to learn those languages! That way he gets money to buy fancy copics :) he doesn’t work for the big showcases or anything like that, he prefers to keep to himself, but his teachers put his art in school art shows constantly!

Long postttttt thanks for reading :) yeeeehaw!

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hysterialevi · 4 years

Text

His Name Was Isaac - Ch. 7

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

Previous chapter | Next chapter

This story is also on AO3

THE NEXT DAY

AURORA BASIN

Hauling the last of their supplies onto the back of the wagon, Arthur lifted up the rear guard and secured them in place, making sure that the few things they had left wouldn’t get lost during the long trek ahead of them.

For the time being, their plan was to head south to Manzanita Post and replace any of the resources that were destroyed, as well as trade for some new weapons with the people there. Afterwards, they’d travel north to Strawberry and search for any tips that could lead them to their next big score.

Arthur didn’t know what could possibly be worth stealing in that small, little settlement, but it wasn’t as if their gang had much of a choice in the matter. Whoever attacked their camp left them with next to nothing, and now, the only money they had left was from the bank job.

If they didn’t find something or someone to rob soon, they’d be at the end of their rope.

And there was no telling what Dutch would do then.

“Arthur!” Someone exclaimed, causing the man to look over his shoulder. It was Joe, coming up to see him.

“What is it?” Arthur asked, moving onto the horses.

Joe stepped next to the mounts, resting a hand on one of the hitching posts.

“I wanted to thank you.” He said.

“Thank me?” Arthur straightened his mount’s saddle, giving it a firm tug. “For what?”

“For savin’ my ass yesterday. Dutch nearly blew my brains out after what happened with Cleet. If you hadn’t intervened, I’d be dead in the ground by now. I owe you one.”

Despite the friendly sentiment, Arthur didn’t return Joe’s appreciative tone.

“Yeah, well... if it turns out you were the traitor after all,” he backed up from the horses, looking Joe in the eye, “...you’ll wish I let Dutch shoot you back there.”

Joe concealed his fear with a subtle gulp. “Of course. I understand. But, I was wondering something else...”

Arthur raised a brow. “...What?”

“Well... was anyone missing from the bank robbery?”

“Missing?” He thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. Everyone we planned to bring showed up. Why?”

“Because if everyone was accounted for, then it makes no sense to say that one of our own people sabotaged the supplies.”

Arthur gave him a firm reminder. “...Assuming you weren’t the rat, of course.”

Joe nodded. “Of course. But Cleet obviously didn’t do anything, and if everyone was present at the robbery, then how the hell is it possible that one of us poisoned the food? We’re a tough gang, but even we can’t be in two places at once.”

Arthur shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe they poisoned it before we left.”

“I’m pretty sure someone would’ve seen that,” the other man argued. “And besides, I think everyone ate in the morning. If the food was already poisoned, y’all would’ve died long before the Pinkertons cornered you.”

The older man sighed, unable to dispute Joe’s point.

“I’ll admit...” he said reluctantly, “it don’t make much sense when you put it that way. Fine. What d’you think then, Joe? If it weren’t one of us that did it, then who?”

Joe checked their surroundings for a second, making sure nobody else was eavesdropping.

“Well, just based on the timing of Cleet’s death, I’d say the food was poisoned while y’all was at the bank. This means that whoever destroyed the supplies knew our schedule. They knew when we’d be the most vulnerable. And most importantly, they knew the layout of the land. Otherwise, there ain’t no way they’d be able to sneak in so easily.”

Arthur placed a hand on his hip. “So, what’re you saying, exactly?”

“I don’t think it was one of us that poisoned the food,” Joe stated. “However, I do think it’s one of us that’s helpin’ them.”

The older man took on a more serious tone. “...And who d’you think that is?”

Joe shook his head in uncertainty. “Whoever has the most to gain.”

Arthur fell silent for a moment, taking in everything Joe just said.

Despite his wariness about the whole situation, he couldn’t deny that the man raised a few good points.

As far as Arthur could recall, nobody was absent from the bank robbery, and there were no disappearances along the way either. So it didn’t make sense to say that the culprit was one of them.

And on top of all that, Arthur highly doubted that whoever poisoned the food would’ve stuck around afterwards. It was more likely that they bolted once the job was done, and hoped that the gang would take it out on somebody else.

Arthur had no idea if it was bounty hunters, or Skinner Brothers, or even the goddamned Pinkertons who were responsible for this, but now that he really thought about it... he was inclined to agree with Joe.

There was no way it could’ve been one of their own men that caused the damage, but it was definitely a Van der Linde that talked.

“Well...” Arthur said lowly, not wanting to reveal too many of his thoughts, “I still dunno what the hell is goin’ on here, but... you might be right. I just don’t understand why anyone would do this. Especially now, of all times.”

Joe shared Arthur’s confusion. “It doesn’t make sense to me either, but if we wanna survive this year, we better find the rat soon. I don’t like the idea of wanderin’ into all that civilization with a traitor among us.”

“Agreed. Lemme know if you see anything strange. Dutch is paranoid enough as it is. We don’t need him worryin’ about mutiny too.”

Joe nodded, taking his leave. “Will do.”

Returning to his business, Arthur finished up preparing the horses as they whinnied in anticipation and swayed their heads excitedly, clearly eager to get out of these treacherous woods.

It wouldn’t be long now before the Pinkertons finally closed in on their location, and if Arthur’s instincts were correct, then Dutch’s plan to get out of Tall Trees wouldn’t go nearly as well as he expected.

There were just too many unknowns. Too many threats lurking in the shadows. For all they knew, the same person who poisoned their food could’ve been watching them as they spoke.

Arthur just hoped that the limitations of civilization would slow them down a bit. Whoever was attacking them didn’t seem to be working with the law -- Pinkertons usually captured their targets alive -- and he doubted that the Skinner Brothers would be so covert with their tactics either.

No... he had a feeling that this was something different. Something more personal. The saboteur clearly had some sort of history with the Van der Linde gang that was motivating these attacks, and in Arthur’s eyes, it almost felt like they were trying to take them out before anyone else could.

He just didn’t know why.

“Arthur!” Dutch suddenly called from a distance, sauntering up to the wagons. “You ready to go?”

Arthur patted his horse on the neck, giving Dutch a firm nod. “Ready when you are. But what about the route we’re plannin’ to take? Everything look okay so far?”

Dutch coughed a few times, not even bothering to hide the weary look on his face. “You’re not gonna believe it. I sent Bill to scout the path ahead earlier, and he tells me one of the bridges we was gonna cross has been destroyed.”

The other man paused. "The hell? But everything was fine yesterday. How did it get destroyed overnight?”

Dutch was at a loss for words. “I have no idea. But this means we’re gonna have to take a detour. We’ll go along the central road to Manzanita Post instead, then head up north once we got the supplies we need.”

Arthur didn’t like the sound of that at all. “North? That’s where most of the Skinner Brother camps are, Dutch.”

“I know, son. But the only alternative route would take us so far south that the Pinkertons would most likely surround us before we even got near the state border. You know how big the Montana River is. They’d be able to pick us off there no problem. I’d rather deal with a few crazies than get captured by the law.”

Arthur let out a deep sigh, unable to think of any other solutions. “...Alright. If that’s the only choice we’ve got.”

Dutch put a hand on his shoulder, looking at him with a sincere gaze. “Thank you for trustin’ me, Arthur. We’ll get through this. Now, c’mon. Strawberry awaits.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

TALL TREES

Traversing the uneven terrain of the forest as the local wildlife scurried around them, the Van der Linde gang pushed through the silent woods as they kept their eye on the seemingly unreachable horizon, doing their best to remain hopeful.

Thanks to the collapsed bridge Bill reported earlier, they had been forced into the area of Tall Trees that was most notorious for disappearances, as well as having an alarming amount of Skinner Brother activity.

There wasn’t a single inch of this forest that felt safe to them, and with the constant threat of being attacked clawing at their minds, it was needless to say that the gang felt somewhat on edge.

It was only a matter of time until they snapped.

“How’s it lookin’ back there?” Dutch called out to the wagons behind him. “Everything seem to be in order?”

Shay gestured to the path beneath them. “Yeah, but I’ve noticed a lotta tracks on these roads, Dutch. Looks like someone’s been ridin’ around all over this place.”

Dutch didn’t seem too bothered by the observation. “Probably just Pinkertons searching for us. You see any sign of the bastards yet?”

“No, but we should be careful. These tracks look recent. I reckon whoever left ‘em is still roaming around here somewhere. They might not be friendly.”

Arthur sighed, lightly whipping the reins as Dutch sat beside him.

“Great. Another thing to worry about. You think it could be Skinner Brothers?”

The older man shrugged. “Who knows. There are plenty o’ things that could kill you in Tall Trees. If we’re lucky, it’ll just be a group of bandits targeting these roads.”

“Let’s hope so. I’d take a good, honest holdup over dealin’ with the law any day.”

Dutch chuckled. “Oh, absolutely. I didn’t think we’d ever see Agent Ross again -- not after everything that happened with Milton -- and yet, here he is. More despicable than ever.”

Arthur thought back to the robbery. “Did you see who his new partner was?”

He shook his head. “No, but he looked like a young man to me. Not as weathered as Milton or Ross. He seemed like the type of feller who would lack experience, but make up for it in brawn.” Dutch smirked humorously. “Kinda reminds me of you, all them years ago.”

Arthur laughed softly at that. “Not anymore, though?”

Dutch let out a tired breath. “Oh, I’m afraid not, son. We’re still strong, mind you... but even we ain’t as spry as we used to be. Time will do that to you.”

The younger man’s tone sunk a little. “...And, erm... how’s your health doing? You been feelin’ alright recently?”

Dutch cleared his throat. “About as well as you can expect at my age. I ain’t got long left in this world -- we both know that -- but I don’t want none of you cryin’ over me. I’m not dead yet. Let’s just focus on headin’ east and finding a suitable doctor who can treat me. Then we can start worrying about my health.”

Arthur decided to drop it for now. “Alright. Just... lemme know if you notice anything strange. I don’t wanna wait till it’s too late.”

The other man chuckled. “Worrying about your old man, are we, Mr. Morgan? Well, ain’t that just sweet.”

Bringing their discussion to an end, Dutch’s attention was suddenly diverted from Arthur when Micah shouted at him from behind, pointing out a peculiar obstacle blocking their path.

“Hey, cowpokes! I think I see somethin’ on the road!”

Squinting his eyes, Dutch peered into the distance and tried to make out the large object barricading the road, only to freeze in shock when he realized it was a toppled stagecoach decorated with corpses.

There were no signs of the culprit as far as Dutch could see, but judging by the freshness of the bodies and the smoke rising from the coach, he assumed they were killed not too long ago.

“...Ah, shit.” He murmured to himself, taking in the morbid scene. “This probably just happened. Poor bastards. Who d’you think did this?”

An alarm went off in Arthur’s head. “Well, I dunno who did it, but I sure as hell recognize those bodies. Is it just me, or do they look like Skinner Brothers?”

Dutch examined their mottled skin and diseased faces, unable to deny the resemblance.

“No, it ain’t just you...” He replied grimly. “But who in their right mind would attack Skinner Brothers? And in broad daylight? Surely, that would bring nothing good.”

Arthur was at a loss. “It’s beyond me. But... somethin’ don’t feel right about this.”

Dutch raised a brow. “What d’you mean?”

“Think about it. Why the hell would you attack someone as crazy as the Skinner Brothers unless you were tryin’ to get attention? And to leave their bodies lying out in the open, right in the middle of the road...” Arthur put a hand on his revolver. “...I think someone wanted us to see this.”

A sense of dread filled the other man’s eyes. “Who?”

“No idea.” Arthur climbed down from the wagon, readying his gun. “But I’m gonna find out. Wait here.”

“Shay!” Dutch called, signaling the man to follow Arthur. “Go with him, will you? Let us know if you find anything.”

Carefully approaching the grotesque scene, Arthur and Shay quickly started to sift through the carnage that was left behind as they searched around for clues, curious to see who on Earth could’ve caused such a mess.

The stagecoach didn’t appear to belong to the Skinner Brothers -- the postal label on the side was enough to confirm that -- but its lockbox was full of cash and food instead of mail.

Right off the bat, Arthur assumed the Skinner Brothers must’ve stolen the coach and been using it to transport any valuables they looted, but he found it odd that whoever attacked them didn’t take any of it for themselves.

It just made him wonder even more what the motivation behind this killing was, and for some unknown reason, part of him began to suspect that the person responsible for this also poisoned their food.

He just couldn’t figure out what the correlation was.

“Hey, Shay,” Arthur said, “you see anything--”

Barely giving them any time to react, a lone bullet suddenly zipped past them and soared straight into a stick of dynamite that had been strapped to a nearby tree, causing it to explode with a bang as the impact sent Arthur and Shay flying backwards.

Meanwhile, the tree’s trunk snapped into two as the upper half collapsed onto the road, separating Arthur and Shay from the rest of the gang.

“Holy shit!” Mackintosh exclaimed, stumbling to his feet. “What the hell is this?!”

Arthur took cover behind the stagecoach, holding his revolver close. “No idea!”

“Hey!” Dutch yelled from the other side. “You boys still alive?”

“...For now!” Arthur answered. “But we can’t stay here! Y’all focus on findin’ another way around! We’ll catch up to you later!”

“But--”

Another bullet planted itself into the ground next to Arthur’s feet, prompting him to become even more frantic.

“--Just go!”

Staying behind while the gang fled in search of a detour, Arthur and Shay remained huddled up by the stagecoach as their pursuer continued to shower them with bullets, scraping off splinters of wood from the vehicle with every shot.

They couldn’t see who was attacking them or where they were, but just based on the direction of the trajectory, Arthur guessed they were firing at them from within the woods.

“Can you see them?!” Shay shouted over all the commotion, peeking around the edge.

“No! But I think they’re using the trees as cover! Keep shootin’ at the woods! I’m gonna try to get this stagecoach back on its wheels!”

Shay threw a bewildered look at him. “What? Why?”

“Because if we can get this thing movin’ again, then we can use it as cover while we make our way down the road. Now help me lift it up!”

“I thought you wanted me to shoot at them!”

Arthur stuttered. “I-- oh, for Chrissake, just lift it!”

Giving the coach a firm heave, the two of them worked together to bring it back to a standing position as their attacker carried on with the assault, trying fervently to take them out.

Arthur didn’t know why, but he got the impression that the assailant was mainly after him. All of their bullets seemed to be aimed in his general direction more so than Shay’s, and the fact that they separated him from the rest of the gang only made him wonder if they were a long-lost enemy he had forgotten.

“Jesus Christ...” He muttered through gritted teeth. He certainly hoped it wasn’t anyone who used to run with the Van der Lindes. Arthur already had a hard enough time when it came to fighting rival gangs or enemies that they encountered on the road, but if this was someone he knew from before... he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to kill them.

“Almost got it...!” Shay groaned in a strained voice, his arms now starting to quiver from the coach’s weight.

Finally tilting the sturdy vehicle back onto its wheels, Arthur hurriedly yanked one of the doors open and slammed his body against it, pushing the coach forward while Shay fired back at their attacker.

Judging by the way the foliage twitched with the pursuer’s movements, Arthur assumed they were venturing further down the path in an attempt to stop them and probably setting up some other kind of trap.

He had no idea if they had a second stack of dynamite lying around somewhere, or if they were going after the rest of the gang, but at the moment, Arthur only prayed he’d live long enough to find out.

“Shit!” Shay shouted as a bullet darted through one of the coach’s windows. “This bastard’s got good aim!”

Arthur pressed harder against the door. “Well, make sure yours is better!”

Forcing the stagecoach up a steep hill, Arthur mustered as much strength as he possibly could and flattened his palms on the door’s surface, trying to ignore the ache that was now spreading in his arms.

The vehicle budged a little bit, but even with all his effort, it wasn’t nearly enough to get the damned thing over the hill. He’d need help.

“Shay!” Arthur grunted out. “Lend me a hand here!”

Putting his gun down for a moment, Shay jogged over to Arthur’s position and helped the man push the stagecoach up the sharp incline, both of them now battling against its unforgiving weight.

With their strength put together, the coach finally started ascending the hill’s abrupt angle and continued to slide along the path, giving them some much-needed cover from the never-ending storm of gunshots.

“You got it?” Arthur checked, his boots now digging into the ground.

Shay gave the vehicle another shove, clearly struggling with it. “I... I think so...!”

Before anymore progress could be made however, another bullet suddenly hit the side Shay’s leg and sent him tumbling to the ground, causing him to cry out in pain as the stagecoach began to roll backwards.

“Goddammit...!” Arthur exclaimed once he realized the vehicle was headed straight for him.

He tried to leap out of the way of the oncoming stagecoach and dove to the side of the road, but was ultimately rammed directly in the ribs before being thrown into the dirt.

He could hardly breathe. It felt like his heart had just been knocked out of his chest, and the whole world around him looked like it was going black.

He desperately gasped for air and crawled through the slick mud, unable to even see where his gun had dropped.

The only thing he could hear at the moment was his own hammering heartbeat and the feeble croaks that escaped from his battered lungs, accompanied by the muffled sounds of gunfire and shouting.

“...Shay...!” He wheezed, sluggishly rising from the ground. “...Shay...! Where... are you...?”

Scanning his surroundings, Arthur gazed further down the road and managed to spot Mackintosh himself at the top of the hill, scrambling around in panic due to the new wound in his leg. What really caught Arthur’s attention, though... was the fact that he was no longer alone.

Yanking out his hunting knife, Shay frantically tried to get away from the stranger and wildly swung the weapon a few times, only to receive a fist to the face when the assailant grabbed his arm.

The sheer force of the attack sent him reeling back and caused a fresh stream of blood to flow from his nostril, staining his lips and teeth red.

It shocked Mackintosh how strong his opponent was, considering their seemingly young age, but it was more than evident to him now that this man was no stranger to these types of affairs.

There was an undeniable ferocity in the nature of his attacks, and just based on the pure sense of hatred that illuminated from the man’s glare, Shay guessed this was an enemy he had made in the past.

He just couldn’t figure out who he was.

Lunging at the young man again, Shay limped towards the attacker and sliced his knife downwards, cutting a gash in the stranger’s coat but not actually reaching his skin.

He lost balance due to the bullet now buried in his leg and plunged to the ground beside the young man, allowing his opponent to turn the tide of the fight.

Taking out his own knife, the stranger grabbed Shay by the collar and hauled him to his feet, making sure he couldn’t escape. Afterwards, he took hold of Shay’s abdomen and thrust the blade forward, jabbing the weapon deep into his gut.

“...Mackintosh...!” Arthur exclaimed upon witnessing the attack.

He tore himself away from the ground and weakly approached the violent scene, hoping to help Shay even though he knew it was too late.

The man was already bleeding profusely from the stomach and had hardly any color left in his skin, but even then, it was obvious that the young man wasn’t done with him yet.

Ripping the blade out of Shay’s stomach, he slammed the man against a nearby tree and held him in place, looking directly into his tormented eyes.

There was a sense of despair engraved in the young man’s expression, and the longer Shay studied his oddly familiar features, the more he began to recognize him.

“...Shay. Mackintosh.” The stranger growled slowly, his tone sharp with anguish. “I finally have you. After fifteen, goddamned years... I finally have you.

Shay stared at the young man in fear, unsure of whether or not he was identifying him correctly.

“Who... are you?” He breathed out, still exhausted from the fight. “Why are you... tryin’ to kill me...?”

The stranger gave him a firm shake, his grip growing even tighter.

“Look at me,” he urged. “You know me, Shay. Far better than you may think.”

Taking a minute to sift through his memories, Shay practically watched his whole life flash before his eyes as he thought back to where he was fifteen years ago, trying to reshape the world around him.

At first, nothing immediate came to mind, but upon peering deeper into the young man’s sorrowful gaze, a specific memory suddenly jumped out at Shay, and he felt his entire body freeze.

He remembered three other men. Three other outlaws.

Charles Baumann, Thaddeus Blackmore, and Eli Whitley.

They robbed a cabin. Killed the owner too. She was a young woman, hardly into her twenties.

And worst of all, Shay remembered she had a son. A boy of only six years. He witnessed the whole murder, and ended up being taken in by them due to Whitley’s insistence.

But Shay never watched him grow up. He abandoned the small gang not too long after they killed the boy’s mother. The guilt would’ve destroyed him otherwise.

Now, though, everything made sense to him. The Pinkerton ambush, the poisoning of the food, the sabotage of the supplies... it was all linked to him. It was all because of what he did fifteen years ago.

This young man was that same little boy, and he had come for revenge.

“...Isaac Morgan.” Shay said plainly, finally understanding who he was. “It’s you. You’re still alive... after all this time.”

Isaac clenched his jaw, attempting to hide the tears that glossed over his eyes.

“I couldn’t die.” He replied, his voice trembling slightly. “Not without killin’ you first. You and your men... you took everything from me. You took Eliza from me.”

Shay closed his eyes in remorse, not even bothering to bargain with the boy.

“...I know, Isaac.” He said gently. “I know what we did was wrong. That’s why I left. Eli, too.”

A morbid thought crossed Shay’s mind. “...Where is Eli, anyway? Are you lookin’ for him as well? Or have you found him already?”

Isaac nodded. “He’s dead, Shay. Him and the others. You’re the last one.”

Mackintosh wasn’t surprised. “...I thought so.”

Interrupting their exchange, a soft rustle suddenly emitted from behind Isaac’s back and caused him to whip around in curiosity, leading the young man to find himself face-to-face with a new stranger.

Isaac recognized the man as the same gang member Shay was riding with earlier, but contrary to what he expected, the man didn’t appear to be hostile. Instead, he approached the two of them peacefully, and kept his gun in his holster.

Still, Isaac wasn’t willing to take any chances and immediately pulled Shay into his grasp, holding the knife up to his throat.

“Back off!” He warned. “I will kill him!”

The other man raised his hands in a diplomatic manner, attempting to calm the boy down.

“...Easy, Isaac,” he soothed. “It’s okay. Just take it easy.”

The boy paused abruptly, unsure of how to react. “What? How d’you... how d’you know my name? Who are you?”

The man steadily approached him, keeping his hands in the air.

“I heard your conversation with Mackintosh,” he explained. “You... you lost your mother when you was a boy? Is that right?”

That only confused Isaac even more. “How the hell do you know Eliza was my mother? Why do you even care? Answer my question! Who are you?” He pressed the knife harder into Shay’s throat.

The man stopped in his tracks, not wanting to provoke the boy any further. Instead, he decided that actions would speak louder than words in this scenario and simply reached upwards to remove his hat, unveiling the familiar face that hid underneath.

He couldn’t believe it. Mere moments ago, Arthur was dragging himself through the mud, doing anything he could to survive. He genuinely thought today would be the day he died, but now... he was talking to someone who he never thought he’d see again.

He didn’t know if the boy would remember him, or if he would even still love him after all those years of being separated, but one thing was for certain -- Isaac was Arthur’s son.

And against all odds, he was still alive.

“...It’s me.” Arthur revealed, doing his best to keep himself together. “I’m your dad.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #isaac morgan #dutch van der linde #Micah Bell #Bill Williamson #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 oc

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