#mychem fanfic

[hearts4golbach]

[ghoulgirlwrites]

So Don’t Hate Me, Trust In Me

Pairing: Frank Iero x Female Reader

Era: Danger Days

Requested by: Anon

Word Count: ~1500

Summary/Request: So I was thinking about a Frank X fem!Reader (she/her) during Danger Days era, where they are really close and it's obvious they like each other, and Frank is more forward with liking her, but she's insecure bc she doesn't have any experience with relationships and intimacy (even just handholing and stuff), and is worried he'd be disappointed, maybe even something like she's not good enough for him. And he gets her to talk about it to him and is really understanding and reassuring, and willing to give her time and space, but she feels better after the conversation and wants to try. So basically angst to fluff?

A/N: I LOVED writing this one. It was one of the first fics I worked on in getting out of my hiatus and it was just everything I wanted in a request (particularly Danger Days Frank). Enjoy!

--

You’d just started a new job as Frank’s guitar tech. It was a dream job for you, since you wanted to work with bands and travel around the world, but you were too shy to get onstage yourself. MyChem were currently on tour promoting their newest album, Danger Days, and you were excited to work for them, since you’d been friends with Frank since shortly before Revenge had come out.

But the best part of the job was getting to work with Frank. The rest of the band was super nice and welcoming, but Frank was so generous and he seemed to care about making your job easier whenever he could. Every time you switched out a guitar for him, he’d grin at you as if you were his personal savior. When you’d first started working for Frank, you’d been nervous that it would affect your friendship, but it had only brought you closer.

However, you were trying to be cautious because you knew you were starting to fall for him. You figured that he was just nice to you because he was nice to the rest of the crew, but you often caught yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss him or to run your fingers through his hair, which he’d taken to wearing longer, down to his shoulders. You knew you couldn’t act on these feelings because you figured he’d never like you back and saying or doing the wrong thing could put you out of a job and you really wanted to keep working with him, not just because of your crush.

--

You were just about finished setting up before MyChem took the stage for tonight. You handed Frank his first guitar and he put his hand over yours on the neck of the instrument, holding you in his hazel eyed gaze.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome.” You felt proud that your voice didn’t tremble and you prayed he didn’t notice your hand shaking beneath his.

He turned to head to the side of the stage, but then ran back to you.

“Did you forget something, Frank?” You asked.

“Yeah. I just wanted to say you look really nice tonight,” he said.

Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. “Thanks.”

You watched him play his heart out, still bewildered from the compliment he’d given you. It wasn’t the first time, but usually his praise was about your work. Your stomach fluttered at the idea that he noticed how you looked. You usually dressed for comfort, in jeans, band shirts, and hoodies and you weren’t dressed that differently tonight, apart from the fact that you were wearing your favorite hoodie. You liked it because it was comfortable, but you also thought that it brought out the color in your eyes.

The show was nearing the end, when Gerard started walking around the stage as he spoke into his microphone.

“So before we play our last song, we wanted to give a big thank you to our crew who do such an amazing job at every show. Thank you to our merch, our lights and sound people--”

Frank cut in. “And I just wanted to call my guitar tech, Y/N, to the stage for a minute. Y/N, where you at, girl?”

Your face burned as you shrunk back, but you saw Frank walking over to you, his guitar still slung around his neck. He lifted one hand, beckoning you gently with one finger. “Come on,” he mouthed, his lips curling in a sweet smile.

You sighed, walking onstage to a crowd of thousands, who were all screaming for you. ‘Bet they’d scream for just about anything if Frank told them to,’ you thought bitterly to yourself. But all thoughts went out of your head as Frank took your hand and led you over to his mic so he could talk.

“This is Y/N, my amazing guitar tech, she keeps me in line all night, can we give her a big round of applause?” Frank asked the crowd, lifting his arms up towards the pit. You blushed over his comment about “keeping him in line all night,” and hoped the stage lights didn’t show how red you felt.

The crowd went wild once again and your face burned even more as you felt Frank wrap his arm around you and pull you into a hug, discreetly kissing your cheek. It was such a quick peck that you were almost sure you’d imagined it, but when Frank pulled away from you, he was blushing too, but grinning, the corners of his hazel eyes crinkling.

Frank finally let you go and you escaped to the sanctuary of backstage. You hadn’t wanted to hurt Frank’s feelings by running away, but it made you nervous being in the spotlight. And that kiss on your cheek had made your heart soar, but now you felt nervous. What did it mean?

--

After that night, you tried to keep yourself busy and limit your interactions with Frank. You didn’t know what his intentions were and you were scared you weren’t good enough for him. You had never really dated anyone and you knew he’d had quite a few relationships, so you were also afraid that your inexperience would be a turnoff for him.

It was hard to totally avoid him though, especially since you worked for him and you’d seen his face fall enough to know that he’d noticed and wasn’t happy about it, but you couldn’t help it.

Finally, he cornered you one day backstage while one of the opening bands set up for their set.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he murmured.

Your heart stopped. You were caught. There was no avoiding the conversation now. You swallowed hard. “Frank, I…I’m sorry. Can we talk about this somewhere more private?” As you said this, you saw Gerard out of the corner of your eye, looking over at the two of you, his eyebrows furrowed. Gerard was hard to miss these days, with his bright red hair.

Frank nodded and you let him take your hand and pull you away from everyone else. Once you’d stopped walking, he held your hand in his still, loose enough that you could let go if you wanted to, but tight enough that you could sense that Frank didn’t want to let you go.

He sighed. “Look, I--I’m sorry if I scared you off that night when I called you onstage, but I just--I wanted to show you how special you are to me and how much I like you, I just didn’t really know how. I didn’t plan on kissing your cheek, it just happened, so if you’ve been avoiding me because of that, I’m so sorry. I never want to make you uncomfortable and I want you to know that we’ll do whatever you want. If you want to pretend this never happened, we can do that, if you want to leave tour--”

You’d been listening to him ramble, your heart fluttering in your chest as he said everything you’d hoped to hear from him, but when he mentioned you leaving tour, you had to stop him. “Frank, I don’t wanna leave tour.”

His face lit up with a cautious sort of hope. “You don’t?”

You shook your head, offering him a small smile. “No, I don’t.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank God. So what is it then? I miss you and I want us to be good again.”

You sighed. “I like you too. I like you so much that it scares me. A-and I could tell you liked me too and that scared me even more.”

He frowned. “Why? You never have to be afraid of me, you know that.”

You bit your lip. “I know. It’s not that. It’s just that…you know I’m not very experienced when it comes to this kind of thing. And I’m insecure that I’ll screw it up, or that I won’t be good at…you know.” You trailed off, blushing furiously.

His full lips curved in a slight smile, his hazel eyes full of warmth and love for you. “Y/N, you’re going to be amazing, because you’re amazing. But we can slow things down, I can…I can back off a little if that’s what you need.”

You nodded. “Not too far back though,” you whispered, smiling slightly.

He reached his hand out to yours, linking your pinky with yours. The simple, gentle touch felt amazing.

“Better?” He asked, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded, reaching up with your other hand to brush his hair out of his face. It had grown down to his shoulders and you loved the way it looked, even when it obscured his beautiful eyes. “Thanks, Frank.”

He smiled. “Of course.”

The two of you took things slow over the next few months. Frank was unendingly patient with you, which made you feel brave enough to progress your relationship. You still worked for him, since it gave the two of you the chance to spend a lot of time together and travel around the world. You loved watching him play music and jump around the stage like a maniac. And after every show, he was yours, and that was all that mattered.

[dilemma-danger]

i wanna write fanfics bc i havent actually uploaded anything to my ao3 acc yet even tho ive had it FOREVER

please i beg of yall give me random ideas for mcr fanfics (including danger days) i will write or at least start writing them

smut is okay but not r@pe or shipping real people, only for characters (like in danger days universe)

did i explain that okay lmao

[deadsetromance]

RUN WHILE YOU STILL CAN

(not my gif!)

party poison x gn!reader

summary: nearly a year after you left the diner, you find yourself back in zone six. this time, you've got bad news.

warnings: open ending (ish), general mentions of violence, mentions of death, language, non-edited writing

note: and finally...the last part! i planned to publish this earlier, but i got sick, so i had to take a break from writing :( either way, i had so much fun writing this, and i hope you enjoyed it <3

1 | 2 | 3

your car sped through zone six, and you cursed yourself for not being able to drive faster. it was a matter of life or death, and you sure as hell hoped to beat the phoenix witch to your destination. besides, you owed this particular group of killjoys a favor.

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎

you left the diner early in the morning.

carrying nothing more than your blaster and the clothes on your back, you had disappeared into the sand. following jet star's directions, you headed south until you found route guano. from there, you hitchhiked the zones, sticking with any group of killjoys that would take you in. 

riding solo through the zones was rough. sometimes you managed to cruise with a pack of 'joys for a day or two, but you were alone more often than not and always in need of supplies. you spent sleepless nights by dying fires or crammed into cars overflowing with killjoys. 

you managed to get your hands on a car of your own, after winning a high-stakes bet. from then on, you spent your days driving through the zones, often making deliveries for carbons. at night, you bundled up and slept in the back seat or hit the red line when dracs got too close for comfort. 

there was a constant nagging in the back of your mind that told you to keep an eye out for red hair. you asked around when you pulled into a village or made a stop at tommy chow mein’s, but all you got was radio silence. it had been nearly a year since you had last seen party poison and his crew, and you were starting to think they never existed.

you never found your crew either.

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎

the sun beat down on the sands as you drove past the picket fence, and into zone six. there was a reason you didn’t drive out here often, the same reason dracs didn’t bother to patrol way out here. it was nothing but sand for miles.

few killjoys camped out in zone six, partly because it was so out-in-the-open, and because there were still spots where radiation hung thick. sure it was the safest place in the zones, but it was also the emptiest. you could drive for miles without seeing anything, no people, no buildings, nothing. it made you realize how lucky you were when you came across the diner. 

now, you’d be lucky if you were heading in the right direction. you avoided route guano after you heard it was being patrolled, and you were as good as lost, the map lying next to you useless. your fuel gauge was in a steady decline, with the cherry pit in your stomach growing by the second. you were running on nothing but a quarter tank of fuel, and pure adrenaline. 

zone six was a killer, but you were a killjoy on a mission, and you’d be damned if you didn’t try to make it out alive. 

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎

your car was kicking up too much sand. 

you’d be visible from miles away, but it didn’t matter to you. you couldn’t afford to slow down. not when your car was about to die on you, and definitely not when you could see the diner. or at least it looked like the diner, you were still too far away to be able to tell. you didn’t have any other choice but to drive straight toward it. 

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎

you made the drive in less than two minutes. you were sure your car was about to burst into flames, but you had made it to the diner. party poison and his crew scrambled out the door, guns drawn in a hellish parallel. you would have laughed if you weren’t focused on slamming on the breaks to prevent running them over. 

suddenly nothing was fast enough. you couldn’t get out of the car fast enough, couldn’t run to stand in front of the group fast enough. you couldn’t hurl yourself into party’s outstretched arms fast enough. 

killjoys were cold and callous, living fast and dying young. they didn’t show affection easily, if at all. only hippies and those new to the zones openly brandished their fondness. you didn’t know why you were hugging party poison, and he didn’t know why he was hugging you, but it just felt right.

“long time no see tumbleweed” 

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎

you would have loved to say in your little piece of heaven wrapped in party poison’s arms, but you knew what you had to do.

“you have to get out of here,” you spoke, pulling yourself out of his hold and back to the car. “there’s a cloud of at least a hundred dracs coming your way,” they were on edge again, stiffening as hands tightened around blasters. “i counted five scarecrows, but who knows how many more there are.” you began to throw supplies from your car into a pile.

“now?” they looked panicked, unprepared. you knew dracs never patrolled out in zone six, so why now?

“yeah, i was riding ahead of ‘em. i���m sure they saw my dust trail.” 

party poison was quick to snap into their leadership role. any worry he had shown before was gone, and his directions were firm, “alright, you guys get the supplies, i’ll bring the car around”

“you got it party.” the others rushed inside, and you could hear the clatter of cans and strings of curses as they gathered what they had. 

you moved to follow the others inside and help out as best you could, but the redhead had other plans. with one hand he pulled you in the direction of the garage, while the other fumbled with the keys.

“you came back,” they breathed, turning to look at you.

“i had to,” you offered little more than a shrug as you helped load supplies into the trunk. “i couldn’t let it go all costa rica here, i owe you.”

he stopped your busy hands, holding them in his. his eyes were soft as he smiled down at you. you knew there wasn’t much time, but you could wait a minute. 

“i looked for you,” you grinned “no one knew anything. i half thought you were a mirage”

“ghoul went mad when i wanted to keep looking for you. said i should just let you go,” he countered, laughing at your teasing expression

"well, i’m here now aren’t i.”

“yeah. you gonna ride with us, or do you need to take your car back to your gang?” he turned back, throwing in the last of the equipment. his eyes were hopeful as he slid into the driver's seat.  

“i uh, never found the rest of my crew. and i don't think my car can last another chase.” grimacing, you turned to look at your smoking car, before jumping in the passenger seat next to him.

“that blows. but hey, the offer still stands, if you want to run with me…with us, you’re welcome to.” with a smile, he laced your fingers together and pulled out of the garage. 

“yeah, i think will.”

that was it then, your decision had been made. you’d ride with them till the day you died, running from dracs and shooting to stay alive. you’d run with the fabulous killjoys till the stars fell from the sky, and the world ended. whatever came first. 

[ciricegh0st]

ok but i need you all to comment the most gut wrenching beautifully crafted soul ripping fanfiction you've ever read, idc about the fandom i litterally just want to weep so hard and be reminded of the beauty of art

[ms-alli]

Happy Frerard Friday!

[thinksparklez]

I will never forgive Stephanie Meyer for naming her vamp/human hybrids "immortal children" instead if some generic fantasy name. Do you know how annoying it is for me, a writer of children who HAPPEN to be immortal, to find resources and discussions about child deities only to be met with discussions over fucking Resumé from TWILIGHT??!

[fishwithlegsandaheart]

we have to retire the 911 to fifty shades of grey butterfly effect bc theres one right there thats much more compelling which is the 911 to sold to one direction fanfic butterfly effect

( 911 —> mcr is formed —> fans write mychem smut of being sold to them —> the original creator of “sold to one d” seeing those fics —> they write sold to one d )

[poolboyservice]

not to be controversial or whatev but how do people who r anti-kink at pride even function when they listen to Gerard Way or MyChem rlly

that mf has a piss, blood, and (iirc) inflation kink, you're anti-kink, but you only make an exception for Gerard Way/My Chemical Romance.. huh.... sounds real fanfic of you...

[xocasper]

HIIII so here’s a little story time because i was on your profile reading fanfic (as one does) and my neighbours (who are and have been the bane of my existence for the past 9 ish months) decided to start playing music incredibly loudly (it’s a sunday morning i’m tired sos) and i need to rant because everyone i know is sick of hearing me whine about it

so my BITCHASS neighbours blast music 24/7 at a ridiculous volume to the point that i can hear them from across the house and it makes the walls vibrate. they’re also drinking or doing drugs all the time, bang about CONSTANTLY, argue so loud to the point i can hear them without putting my ear to the wall, and one of them actually threatened my family (said they would burn our house down, light our car on fire and kidnap my parents’ kids) bc we kept having to call the police on them,, anyway

SO. we have restored to PAYBACK. every time they play music, argue, smoke weed, drink loudly, bang about, etc, we BLARE music back. we usually go for real heavy stuff like slipknot, iron maiden, korn, etc but i convinced my family to play my chem!! (it’s worth noting they have TERRIBLE taste in music. like if ur gonna make me hear it at least play something good ffs)

it’s great because i get to listen to mcr all the time since they never shut the fuck up and they not only get a taste of their own medicine, but also get to be blessed with my chem. i’m writing this with house of wolves playing at a borderline painful volume in hopes it overpowers their music. the end. - 🌙

that’s iconic and i fully support your efforts. they should be grateful it’s mychem tbh. doing them favors fr 🙏🙏

[mcrnico]

i dont think i’ve seen such a pretty image of gerard in all these years i feel like it is ephemeral and i have to keep it in my hands or other way nobody is gonna believe me that this happened

[ghoulgirlwrites]

It’s Not The Life It Seems

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Era: High School AU

Requested by: N/A

Word Count: ~900

Summary/Request: Frank keeps getting into fights and Y/N is always there to help clean him up. But she’s starting to get worried.

A/N: This is just an idea I had after seeing that gif of Revenge era Frank showing off his forehead wound (you know the one). Also I’m always a slut for I’m Not Okay Frank

--

“Ugh, you got into another fight?” You asked your best friend, Frank.

“What do you think?” He asked, arching an eyebrow, then winced, as that apparently caused him pain.

“Come on, you can clean up at my house so you don’t give your mom a heart attack,” you said, taking his hand in yours and ignoring the flutter in your chest.

You and Frank had been best friends since you were eight, so almost ten years. You’d instantly bonded when he moved next door to you and knocked on your front door to introduce himself. But lately, he’d been getting into fights almost every week. He’d never tell you what they were about, but it always seemed like he lost, his face banged up and his knuckles swollen and raw.

Thankfully, the two of you lived close enough to your school to walk home together. It was the end of the day, so you could help him clean off the blood and ice his bruises, as you were quickly becoming accustomed to doing.

Frank was quiet and almost sulky on the way home, so you just left him to his thoughts. Soon, you reached your neighborhood and led him into your house.

“Hey Mom,” you said.

“Hi honey,” she said, then caught a glimpse of Frank. “Frank, what did you do?”

His face flushed in embarrassment as he looked down at his shoes, so you answered for him. “He got into another fight.”

“I see that,” your mom said, nodding. “I don’t know what it is with you boys, always needing to punch each other.”

“Me neither,” you said, sharing a smile with her.

“Well, you better get him upstairs so he can clean up. Frank, are you staying for dinner?”

The promise of your mom’s cooking made him smile. “Always, Mrs. Y/L/N!”

She smiled back at him. “Wonderful.”

With that, you and Frank headed upstairs and into your bathroom, as was quickly becoming routine for you. Frank obediently sat on the closed toilet lid as you began to take out bandaids. Once you were done ministering to him, you’d make him go back downstairs for an ice pack, since his face was already beginning to turn purple in some places.

“You ever gonna tell me why you keep getting into fights?” You asked, taking his hand and running it under the tap water to rinse off the dried blood. You tried to ignore the fluttering in your chest as your fingers brushed over his.

“Probably not,” he said.

You groaned. “Come on, Frankie!”

“What?” He asked, a challenge sparkling in his hazel eyes.

“You can’t keep doing this. Your mom is gonna collapse from worry one of these days. Or you could get kicked out of school. Have you ever thought about that?”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t care.”

“Come on, Frank, what could be more important than not getting expelled?”

“You,” he said.

You frowned. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he whispered.

You tried to catch his eye, but he was staring at his knees, stubbornly refusing to meet your gaze. Still, you were a bit relieved. This was more than you’d ever managed to get out of him about his fighting.

“Why are you getting into fights over me?” You asked.

He snorted. “You know why.”

“No, I don’t. Tell me,” you said.

“Because I like you, okay? I know you know, but you never wanna talk about it,” he said.

There it was: the elephant in the room. You did know Frank had feelings for you, and of course, you felt the same way, but you were too scared to take things further, in case it ruined your friendship. You couldn’t bear to lose him, but you were slowly becoming afraid that you’d lose him anyway if you kept ignoring all the signs he was giving you.

“I still don’t get it. What does this have to do with me?” You asked.

“I don’t wanna tell you…” he said, ducking his head. You wanted to tell him that hiding his face made it harder for you to help him get cleaned up, but you held back.

“Well, now you definitely have to tell me,” you said.

“It’s stupid…” he whispered.

“Just tell me,” you said.

He sighed. “They…they say bad shit about you.”

“Like what?” You asked.

“They call you a whore. No, they call you ‘Iero’s whore’ to be exact. They say you’re ugly and a know-it-all and shit like that,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Some guys are assholes. They say that stuff to my face. You can’t let it get to you because I don’t.”

His cracked lower lip jutted out. “But I can’t just stand by and let them get away with it! It’s not right, you don’t deserve that.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Do I deserve to watch you get beaten to a pulp every week and have to clean you up afterwards?”

His hazel eyes clouded with tears he was clearly trying not to shed. “I…I’m sorry, I know you hate this shit and I just…”

You sighed. “Look, Frankie, if you promise to settle down a little, maybe we can go out sometime.”

He frowned. “We hang out all the time, what’s--oh. Oh!” You watched as the wheels turned in his head and he realized what you were implying.

“Yeah,” you said slowly, nodding.

Then you leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, careful to avoid the parts of his lips that were cracked and bruised.

“I love you, Frankie,” you whispered when you pulled away.

“And I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, grinning at you.

[dilemma-danger]

hii i uploaded the first chapter of one of my fanfics onto ao3 :3 uhhh go check it out pleasee i worked hard on it

They'll Come Looking For Answers (They Might Start Asking You Why)

oh also if you want to be tagged when i upload a new chapter lmk now

[deadsetromance]

GRAVEHEAD

(not my gif!)

party poison x gn!reader

summary: while waking up to a group of hostile killjoys is scary, what’s even scarier is the fact that you have no idea where to go next

warnings: general violence, mentions of death, slightly ooc, language, non-edited writing.

note:  here’s part two! writers block was a bitch, but i think this is as good as it’s going to get, so i’m happy with it :) keep an eye out for the final part!

1 | 2 | 3

there was no code of honor in the zones, no honor amongst thieves. this meant that the man in front of you could shoot you if he really wanted to. you knew that some killjoys were trigger-happy, shooting before anyone could say a word. you hoped this wouldn’t end like that. 

the sound of your heart pumping in your ears made you dizzy. there weren’t many possible outcomes–you either lived or died–and the longer you waited for something to happen, the more you were sure you would be dead. 

you were more than surprised when he slowly, slowly, angled the blaster away from your face. it wasn’t set aside yet, and they kept it in their hand just in case, but it wasn’t as much of a threat. still, you didn’t dare move even the slightest bit, and you kept your focus trained on the gun.

his eyes were fiery as he questioned you. “what are you doing in here?”

maybe it was because you hadn’t been shot yet, or even the events of the night before that left you stunned.

“i asked you a question. what the hell are you doing here?” he jabbed the blaster in your direction as he repeated his question. his finger danced on the trigger, leaving you no choice but to answer. 

“i- i was looking for shelter, and i thought this place was empty…” you held your breath, waiting…“‘m not looking for trouble, honest.” 

the group was unreadable, their masks staring unblinkingly at you. what if they didn’t believe you? what if they didn’t care? what if…. your life balanced on a series of what-ifs. but all your worries couldn’t prepare you for what happened next. 

what if they let you go?

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ 

the one with the curly hair was the first to approach you. he passed you a can of power pup, a wet rag, and even offered to bandage your shoulder. you hadn’t realized you'd been shot. he treated you (and your wound) with a smile, before leaving you alone in a booth.

they had already started eating by the time you had cleaned yourself up, but they had left an empty seat for you at the table. whether they let you sit with them out of pity, or acceptance you weren’t sure. you sat with them anyway.

“where’s your crew?” the one with the tattoos asked, halfway through his can of power pup. you hadn’t touched yours yet.

“sorry?” you weren’t able to process the question before the group made hearty sounds of curious agreement.

“where’s your crew? d’they know where you are?” he was beaming with curiosity, and it made you feel sick. should you lie to him? make him think that you have somewhere to be?

“uh…they were dusted in a firefight. last night actually.” the table fell silent and you pushed your food around.

“oh..”

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ 

they didn’t talk to you much after you told them what had happened. they kept to themselves, shooting pitiful looks your way, and whispering amongst themselves. 

you sat on the counter, watching the curly one–who you learned was called jet star–flip through a magazine.  

“what zone am i…are we in?” you asked, looking up from the blaster in your lap.

“we're smack in the middle of zone six. ‘bout as safe as the zones can get, ‘cause dracs don’t bother to come all the way out here.” 

“six?…er, how far is route guano from here?” 

“’s about an hour's drive south from this place. it’ll take longer on foot though,” he said, turning to look at you with concerned eyes “why’d you ask?”

“don’t want to spend too much time in one place. plus i figure it’s best if i get out of your hair…”

“it’s getting late and it’s not an easy walk. you’d never make it before sundown, and walking at night is a death sentence.” you frowned at what he said, but you knew he was right. “kobra probably could've driven ya, but the cars busted.”

“oh…”

you were about to speak again when someone called for him. “hey jet, i gotta transmission for you from dr. d!”

“shit!” 

and so you were alone again.

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ 

the sunset was pretty, the sky painted brilliant shades of orange and red. you had a perfect view from your spot on the front steps of the diner. 

you heard someone walking up to the door, “hey…mind if i sit?” it was the redhead–party poison–standing in the doorway.

“go for it,” you smiled awkwardly, shuffling over to make room on the stairs.

“hey, i’m sorry for earlier. it’s just…strange when you come back from a supply run and a ‘joy you’ve never seen before is covered in blood, asleep in a booth.” 

“naw…it’s alright. no hard feelings or anything.” you knew you would have done the same thing if there was an unfamiliar killjoy in your hideout. that’s just how things worked.

“oh okay… ‘m sorry about what happened to your crew. do you-what happened?” his question seemed innocent, and you knew he was trying to help. but your mind flashed back to the swarm of dracs, laser beams, and the screams of your friends. it was too much for you to think about, and you looked down at the sand as your grief washed over you. 

“i can’t really remember… we pulled over to check out a satellite, and all of a sudden we were swarmed. few of ‘em made it to the car and got out, but they left me n’ the others. it’s really just a blur….”

you didn’t speak for a while after. instead, you both sat pressed up against each other listening to the sound of the wind whip against the sand. 

party poison spoke up again, as the last light began to fade from the sky. “jet told me that you were asking for directions to route guano?”   

“oh, uh yeah,” you didn’t think he’d ask, nor that jet star would have told him. wouldn’t they have wanted you to leave sooner? “i didn’t want to overstay my welcome. the sooner i leave you guys alone the better y’know?”

“hey, it’s no problem. i mean killjoys gotta help each other out,” they shrugged, acting almost like he offered his hospitality to every wayward killjoy he found. “and anyway, if…if you wanted to join our crew, you’re welcome to. i mean you lost your group and all.”

you were silent for a moment, not knowing what to say. he seemed genuine…but still, you knew your crew was out there. “i-i don’t want to be too much trouble. i think i’ll just stay for the night, and make a break for the highway tomorrow.”

“where will you go?”

shit. you hadn’t thought that far ahead. “i dunno. could try to hitch a ride from someone, and go on a ghost hunt lookin’ for the others. maybe i’ll ride solo for a little while.” 

the surprise on his face was evident. and you understood why. 

killjoys didn’t live long. they had a life expectancy of three years once they made it out of battery city. if they were lucky.

lone killjoys–those who were reckless enough to go it alone, or those who had given up–hardly made it for half of that. without a crew, a killjoy riding solo was as good as dead.

“be careful,” he said, pushing up off the stairs, and heading back inside the diner. 

“i’ll try.” with one last look over your shoulder, you followed him. 

you’d be gone by the morning.

[slimylayne]

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[ms-alli]

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