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sirowsky · 2 years

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The Lost Island

Chapter 17 - An Ending

Summary: Everything that's happened to you and Marcus since the plane-crash finally comes to a head, all the pieces put together across both space and time falling into place, and suddenly you're out of time.

Author’s Note: Okay, my loves. For the sake of avoiding spoilers, I'm not going to write out the full warnings on this chapter, but if you're hesitant to read without more details, just message me and I'll be happy to tell you. I do recommend reading this with a large quantity of Oreos handy, or whatever your favorite cookies might be. It'll help against the angst. Also: This is not the final chapter!

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Cursing, angst, end of the world-themes, mentions of strained family relationships. Word Count: 7034 Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist

If the portal/gateway/hellhole/asshole ever reappeared, you were gonna fucking kill it.

That was the prevailing thought on your mind as you made your way through the hallways at HQ, back in your time, where your Marcus had clearly not been returned. The thing had plopped you out inside your own office, suddenly holding the sapling in your hands again, and a quick glance at your screens had informed you of the date and time. You’d then wasted half a day looking for your Heroic, before finally accepting that the goo was no longer an ally and absolutely couldn’t be trusted.

You walked into the Science Department, storming through the work area fuming like a thunderous cloud about to release millions of volts of electricity, passing the desks and various machines without a glance at anyone. There were seven people in there, all of whom fell silent as you made your way through the room, continuing into an adjoined lab where you placed the sapling inside one of the bio-scanners and then returned to the control desk back in the work area.

“Run it.”

The poor biologist at the desk didn’t even glance at his Department Head, Jennifer, before starting the scan, making you wonder just how angry you looked right now. You didn’t care enough to find out. The machine ran its cycle, the pressing silence of the room becoming more and more suffocating as the seconds ticked by. And then the computer beeped and all the data it had managed to collect about the plant was displayed on the huge observation window.

“What am I looking at?”

Jennifer, being the only one in the room familiar enough with you to dare speak, came to your side and studied the screen thoroughly.

“From what I can tell, this plant is not terrestrial.”

“Damn it, Jen, I know that already, I need to know what’s significant about it.”

“Nothing. As far as the machine can tell.”

“Nothing?”

“It’s a plant. Normal structure and growth parameters, no obvious mutations or variations in the DNA, nothing molecularly deviant from what appears to be its natural state. If I knew more about the origin-world and had access to more data, I’d be able to give a more comprehensive analysis.”

“If I told you that I was given this sapling by a matriarch tree the size of a small moon, in order to help me stop a deadly outbreak of mutated spores, would that help your analysis at all?”

“Are you serious?”

You merely glared at her, and she took the hint, immediately shifting from casually answering questions, to actively assessing the situation.

“What kind of spores? What’s the threat level?”

“Alien, originally from an unexplored territory. The spores are a mutated form of either pretty much ordinary pollen, or bacterial spores, used as a source of nutrients for the indigenous lifeforms.”

“Do you have any idea how they were mutated?”

“Yeah. Human blood.”

“Shit… that’s not good. That might make them much quicker to adapt to our environment, we might be looking at a global spread within the space of just a few years.”

Oh, how you wished that that had been the case.

“Jen… The mutation started here, within our environment. They’ve already adapted. The information I have suggests that these things could wipe out all biological life on this planet, within months. If that, even.”

She was struggling to believe you, which was understandable, but unhelpful.

“Listen, that tiny little tree over there is somehow connected to how we stop this, and I need you to help me figure out how.”

“Right, okay… Well, if we’re talking defences, I know that some trees can release spores of their own, to protect against other species trying to land on them and take root in their trunks. But that wouldn’t protect us, only other plants, and probably only for a brief time.”

“What about… I don’t know, like an antidote? Something that could neutralize the harmful aspect of the mutated spores?”

“In theory that should be possible, but not in this short of a timeframe. Something like that would take months of cultivations and careful testing. It would be like trying to create a vaccine for a new pathogen, only in a fraction of the time and with no chance of testing it before distribution. It’s just not a workable solution.”

You both stood there, staring at the digital information still being displayed in front of you, each trying to work the problem, and each coming up empty. You tried to backtrack, returning to the basics of what you knew and how you’d thus far approached a solution (clearly not successfully), tried to think in odd angles and look with a wider lens. And soon enough, something occurred to you.

“Maybe microbiology isn’t the solution, here.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I need to see a botanist. I’ll be back, but call me if you figure anything else out, and DO NOT let anyone touch that sapling until I get back. Only you, got it?”

She nodded while you made your way to the door and left the lab, heading for the Heroics HQ Gardens, and the colourful Mrs. Bates. The gardener was a super, but not only that, she was one of the first known generations, one of the first ever to allow herself to be studied by scientists for a chance to better understand the super-gene. She was almost a hundred years old now but looked no more than sixty and had the energy and strength of someone even younger, still just as passionate about her craft and always happy to lend a helping hand to anyone that might need it. Later generations seemed to have lost this longevity, aging largely like ordinary people, but those first few were different. In more ways than one.

“I do believe I hear the footsteps of a troubled soul.”

“What gave it away?”

“You mean aside from the thunder that’s rumbling over your head?”

You sighed and lowered your head, trying not to let your mind veer off towards Marcus, but failing spectacularly.

“That’s not what I’m here about.”

“No? I struggle to fathom how you could possibly focus on anything else.”

“You and me both. But, desperate times… and all that.”

“What can I do for you, my dear?”

“I have a plant-based problem and I’d like your input.”

“Ah, my speciality. Let’s hear it.”

“Do you know of a way that plants can somehow neutralize threats from other plants?”

“Oh, nature is full of clever solutions. All plants have means of protecting themselves from all manner of problems.”

“What about aggressive spores? How would a tree protect itself from something like that?”

“Hmm. You’re talking about parasitic bacterial spores. That’s a tough nut to crack. They’re designed to be hardy, to survive under unfavourable conditions in order to allow a lifeform to spawn, once it encounters more favourable circumstances. They’re aggressive and generally very adaptive little things, which is why most biological lifeforms won’t have a natural defence against them.”

Your heart sank, hearing that.

“So, if spores that had been severely mutated and become extremely aggressive were to attack our flora, there wouldn’t be anything in nature that could survive them?”

“Not likely. Why? Are we facing such a threat?”

“Yes.”

She’d been calmly tending to a bush of some sort while she spoke to you, but now she put her hands down and turned to face you fully, looking genuinely worried. You took a step closer to her, feeling an urgency come over you, a need to move or act, probably just because you were truly starting to fear that you wouldn’t be able to solve this.

“I was brought to the world where these spores were naturally developed, over eons, and while I was there, a matriarch tree gave me a sapling from its own roots, and I just know that it somehow connects to how I’m supposed to stop what’s about to happen here, but I don’t know how.”

She instantly perked up, hearing that.

“What kind of tree was it?”

“I don’t know, it was alien.”

“That’s not what I mean. Was it coniferous or deciduous?”

“It was a leaf tree, millions of years old.”

“How fascinating. Did you speak to this tree?”

“Um… yeah. I mean, as well as I could, I didn’t really know what I was doing.”

“That’s of no concern. If a lifeform that old and that strong allowed you to connect to it, then you already know everything you need to.”

“What? How? I’m not following?”

“Bring the sapling, go where it told you to go, and you’ll find the answers you seek.”

“No, wait, it didn’t tell me to go anywhere, I don’t know what you’re ta-argh…”

Your words faded away into a frustrated growl, as Mrs. Bates herself faded away. Her powers had always been a bit of a mystery, however turning herself into dust and disappearing into the air was a well-used party-trick of hers. As far as anyone knew, the botany was only a hobby, but you wouldn’t put it past the old girl to have some influence over the growth or resilience of her plants. She was certainly mischievous enough to simply not tell anyone if that was the case, even though she’d volunteered to be a guinea pig. Perhaps as a challenge to see how long it would take science to advance enough to figure it out anyway, which you could respect. Still, you were abruptly annoyed again, because apparently you were gonna have to figure this crap out on your own, anyway. A quiet buzz in your pocket alerted you to your phone ringing, and since you didn’t have a plan on how to relocate the damn gardener yet, you picked it up.

“What?”

“Hey, it’s Jen.”

“I know that; what do you want?”

“Wow, you’re really in a mood today.”

“I’m losing my fucking mind, actually, so get to the point!”

“Alright, alright… After you left I put the house to work, sending alerts to all medical facilities to look out for any unusual cases, and we just learned that some folks have come into a hospital in southern California today, with symptoms that seem to be some sort of reaction to an unidentified substance. No one knows exactly what kind yet, they’re working on getting samples to us, thus far it’s just scans that have confirmed the presence of foreign parti-…”

“How many?”

“Uh… thus far… ten.”

“Shit. What kind of symptoms?”

“Difficulty breathing, vomiting, liver and kidney disfunctions, and apparently some of them are exhibiting some aggressive behaviour.”

Ice flooded your blood where you stood, surrounded by lush green plants and their flowers, sporting every colour of the rainbow and so many more. How long would it take before it was all gone?

“It’s already happening.”

You’d known, just from the fact that the portal had been so adamant about making you and Marcus understand all this, that it had to happen soon, but you’d still hoped to have a few days to figure out exactly what you were meant to do to stop it.

“What do we do, Sec?”

What could you do? All you had was a fucking plant and a presumed hint from a barely sentient being, that this could be halted. But the portal had never claimed as much. It had only showed you what had happened, not what would, everything else was your own assumption. Yours. Not Marcus’. Not anyone else’s, because you were the one that somehow just knew things. Right now, though, you felt like you didn’t know anything at all. What did your soul have to do with this? What had Bates meant about going somewhere?

Why had the portal separated you from Marcus?

Was that the answer… rather than a question? Had it moved him to a safe place, because the truth was that this wasn’t survivable, and he was more important to protect? More important for the future. You could believe that. Perhaps your part in all this had never been to stop the destruction, but instead… to simply plant a tree. Maybe that little stalk would survive, carrying the legacy of something so old and wise that it now knew how to shield itself, and would still be here when the dust settled, ready to bring life back to the Earth anew. All your life you’d been out of sync with the world, scrambling to understand even the basics of how to just live. Only to now, when you’d finally begun to figure it out, have to try and understand how to die. How to be alright with that, even though it seemed so unfair and cruel. Not so much that it had to be you that knew about the end of the world, someone apparently had to, but that you couldn’t have gotten to be with Marcus for your final time. You’d never feared laying down your life for others, but this was different. Because this wasn’t taking a bullet for a colleague or friend, this was accepting that everything that had ever lived, would be destroyed. There’d be no one left to protect any records. None to safeguard history. It would all be turned to dust in the thousands or even millions of years that you imagined it would take for the planet to recover, if it even could.

So… what could you do?

“Sec?”

“I need to see my brother.”

<><><><><>

Marcus knew that something was wrong. He could feel a kind of charge around himself that had nothing to do with his powers, and it was growing with each passing day. It might just be that he was in the wrong place, that the universe was being stretched the wrong way because of his misplacement, but if it was, what would happen the day that the cosmos decided to push back? And if it wasn’t that at all… then what? He’d easily fallen back into the routines of life, having already been stranded in this time for two weeks, the only drag being that he already knew everything that was going to happen. The Belgian worm that ate cars, Tech-No breaking his knee (it healed within five days), Guppy and Wild Card getting in trouble in school because of a particularly clever, albeit ultimately disastrous, prank that saw the entire basement of HQ completely flooded. He could’ve prevented those things, but since they weren’t life-threatening, he chose not to, for fear that intervening could somehow tamper with his chances of getting back to you. Missy didn’t seem at all bothered by knowing that he wasn’t technically the same dad she’d grown up with. He acted, spoke, moved and treated her exactly the same, and that was enough for her to accept that they were the same person after all. The only problem was that Marcus didn’t feel like he was. He felt out of place, literally. It was there in every movement, every ray of sunshine that hit his skin, every bite of food and sip of drink… like it didn’t actually happen to his body.

When three weeks had passed, he was getting desperate. He’d seen no hint of the portal anywhere, gotten no information at all about what was happening on your end, and he was beginning to fall apart. That evening at dinner, Missy could tell that something had changed, that he’d begun to break, and it didn’t matter that he could see how much it scared her, he just couldn’t conceal it anymore.

“Dad… is there anything I can do?”

He hated that she even asked. That she felt that same desperation. No kid should know what that felt like.

“No, sweetie. You get going on your homework, okay. I’ll clear the table.”

“But, dad-…”

“Missy, I can’t-…!”

He stopped himself before he could finish that sentence. Firstly, because he’d raised his voice at her, which he never ever did, and secondly, because he’d been about to say that he couldn’t take her kindness right now, which would be a terrible thing to say to a ten-year-old. Especially when she was looking for comfort.

“I’m sorry. …I’m sorry, honey.”

She was on the verge of tears, watching him sit there, shaking with a feeling he couldn’t name but which haunted and tortured him, right before her eyes. She stood up slowly, and came to wrap her arms around him, offering him the comfort that he’d been unable to give to her, and his heart shattered. His arms wrapped around her almost without his knowledge, squeezing her too tight, but she let him. In her endless kindness, she let him, and he didn’t deserve that, but he took it anyway, because he was drowning.

“I don’t know what to do… I’m so scared for her.”

“Don’t be. You know as well as I do, Ace is the toughest Hero there is, powers or no powers. And if she loves you, she’ll find you. I know it.”

Her confidence eased the worst of his fears, although not his guilt. But when they’d said goodnight and she’d disappeared into her room, he found himself outside in the backyard, quietly whispering to the stars just like he had every night since he got there. It was pointless, he knew that. To hope that the words would matter somehow, that they’d carry over between the impossibly large bridge that he hoped still connected the two of you. But standing there among the trees, amidst the mumbled wishes of ‘please, keep her safe’, spoken to figments of his imagination, a very real memory snuck into the forefront of his thoughts. And as his focus shifted, it was followed by a whole string of adjoining ones, all on the same subject: Chief Akela, talking about you.

--We might be able to help her. If you will let us.

--She has a strong spirit, that’s what truly saved her.

--Yes. Love can be a weakness. But it’s also the greatest source of power known, when you dare to wield it.

--We’re not meant to fight these heaviest of battles on our own, none of us would survive that.

Flashes, moments in time, all so significant as he’d lived them, but all equally significant now, for entirely different reasons. Akela had named you Mana, one of their very strongest words, but he’d never disclosed what Kahele meant. Now, standing out there under the stars, Marcus could almost feel the meaning of his name through the energy that the Chief had imbued it with. He heard the man’s voice as if a record was skipping inside his head. And with each repetition, the meanings seemed to deepen, burrowing further down into the depths of his soul. Hearing these phrases back-to-back, knowing the same man had spoken them, a man that saw things other people couldn’t, put them under a whole other light. Suddenly, Marcus knew that he had to get to you. Right now! All these phrases had been warnings, cemented into his brain long before they would become truly relevant, because Akela had somehow known that you would end up the sacrificial lamb on the altar of time. The portal had showed Marcus… it had fucking showed him what would happen, and still he hadn’t understood it. His dreams had been filled with your eyes, staring back at him as you took that final step into the unknown, but he’d seen only peace within you, and assumed that it meant victory. He had to get to you! But how!?

“Akela… help me! Please!”

He screamed at the treetops, ready to believe that the magical old man was still alive in some form, reaching out to him from some other world, or time. But the answer didn’t come to him from up there. It came from within himself. This time, the memories that berated his senses were all of you, as you’d unknowingly prepared him for this very moment.

--There’s not a single shred of all this that’s easy, but the fact is: we’re alive. And as long as we are, there’s hope.

--Are you seriously telling me that you’re prepared to just roll over and die, just because someone might try and stop you from going home?

--You’re a leader and a fighter and a hero. When did you become a quitter?

--You’re stronger than this.

His lungs emptied in a kind of subdued shock. And when the air flooded back in, the sky turned black, lightning flared high into the atmosphere and struck the ground all around him, not just the house, the trees, the pool, but the entire neighbourhood. Dark purple threads spread out around him by the thousands, searching and waiting. The lightning intensified, but became more and more focused, eventually drawn to the same spot, just fifteen feet to his left, where something was taking form. He let the threads join the lightning, one by one attaching them to the thing, pulling it closer and closer until it was forced into his timeline. The portal. Trapped by his power, the real power of his being, awoken by you, by his immeasurable love for you, it had no means of evading him as he approached it, noting that the surface of it, which was usually in constant turmoil, was now smooth. Like a doorway of silk, gently billowing against the simultaneously both light and dark forces that locked it in place through Marcus’ true strength. He knew that it would take him where he wished, it had no other option, so he didn’t hesitate to step towards it.

“Dad…”

Her voice, small and absolutely terrified, reached him like glass cracking under his feet. He’d never be able to ignore that voice.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay.”

Holding his powers in place, he closed the distance between them as he spoke, pulling her into a hug. Her voice was even smaller when she whispered in his ear.

“How are you doing that?”

He pulled back to look at her, putting his face in front of her eyes to force her focus away from the frightening spectacle.

“Because I have to.”

His own voice crackled, precariously close to dying out on his tongue as the tears filled his eyes with the knowledge that he had to walk away from her. Again. All he had to lean on was the blind faith that the timeline would somehow reset, and all of this would never have happened for her. But he’d always remember.

“You were right about what you said after dinner, except it’s the other way around. I’m the one that has to find her. I have to go, baby, but everything will be okay, I promise.”

“I’m scared…”

Her tears nearly broke his resolve.

“I am too. More than I ever have been before. But listen to me, Missy, because I need you to remember this, no matter what: You are stronger than your fears.”

Something sturdy seemed to brace her shoulders as she absorbed those words, and he backed away from her with a small hope kindled in the depths of his heart. That perhaps those words, once given to him on the ocean wind, existed outside of time, and that she’d remember them always, in all versions of the cosmos. He turned away from her, and without pause, stepped into the portal.

<><><><><>

You found him only hours after you’d hung up on Jen, even though he was several states away, by commandeering one of the Heroics helicopters and flying out there yourself. It had been years since you’d last flown anything at all, but you were a certified helicopter pilot and the training came back to you quickly once you were in front of the controls, the familiar abbreviations and dials somehow feeling like old friends from a past life. These machines were bigger and heavier, operated by more advanced engines than the one’s you’d flown back then, but you adjusted easily, using your fingers and feet to feel how the bird moved and responded. Ms. Granada had called you about half an hour after you left, not to yell at you, but to let you know that an additional eighteen hospitals along the coast had now called in suspected cases of spore-infections. That changed the projected timeline for how long it would take before this went global, into a mere fraction of the time you’d originally thought. Not that it made that much difference, in the end.

The base where Chris was stationed right now was inland and had rarely seen a visit from a Heroic helicopter, so when you approached the marked out landing pad, just a stones-throw from the training grounds, everyone stopped what they were doing and just stared. You came in fast, having alerted the base’s flight operator and tower that you were inbound, and for the first time since becoming Heroics Chief of Security, throwing your weight around in ordering them to clear the air for you. It was a bigger position than many would think, your job. For the sake of protecting the people that protected the world, you had the authority to assume command over any agency or company, civilian, military or other, as well as any location anywhere in the country. An authority you would ordinarily never have used for a personal matter, but the fucking world was ending. You landed smoothly, leaving the engine running idle while you climbed out and identified yourself to the armed guards around the helipad, who promptly stepped aside, saluting you as they recognized you as a superior officer. You asked one of them to direct you to Chris Hadley, having to scream over the sounds of the engines, and the guard pointed you towards the mess hall. Both of you had changed surnames after learning about your parents, but while he had stuck with a family name, after your maternal grandparents, you’d chosen something completely unrelated.

There was a loud buzz of voices in the large room as you stepped inside and stopped to look around, but it died out quickly when the people closest to you recognized you, and started spreading the word, until every eye in the room was on you. They weren’t required to stand in attention unless you ordered them to, or if you appeared in official attire, so you simply studied them, looking for a familiar face. You were just about to call out his name when a tall frame rose above the seated diners. You had the same eyes and chin, the same hair, albeit his cropped short along the sides, and only slightly longer over the crown of his head. It had been at least five years since you’d last seen him, and even though there had never been any animosity between you, he felt somewhat estranged, given that you hadn’t been close for a lot longer than that. You’d kept tabs on him, but only ever contacted him for birthdays and thanksgivings. Still, you’d grown up together, and knew each other accordingly well, so when he took in what had to be a strained or possibly even desperate expression on your face, he immediately made his way over to you and pulled you into a bearhug. He was a full head taller than you, broad-shouldered and muscular, so you all but disappeared into his embrace.

“What’s the matter, Sunshine?”

The whisper of his voice in your ear, the nickname he’d given you the first time he saw you and never stopped calling you since then, the love he still offered you so freely, even though you were the one that had pulled away from him, all threatened to break you. But you didn’t get to do that. You’d have to be strong now.

“I need to talk to you.”

He let go of you but kept his arm over your shoulders as he moved back to the door, holding it open for you and following you through. He brought you to an empty area outside, that you recognized as a practise ground for driving military vehicles, but which was currently unused. There were no obstacles or buildings anywhere nearby, so no one could get close enough to eavesdrop without being noticed.

“Tell me.”

Ever the military man. Straight and to the point. But how did you tell someone that the world was ending? How did you tell a beloved family member that you were there to say goodbye?

“Chris… I’m sorry. I know I’ve said it before, and I know that you would’ve forgiven me even if I hadn’t, but I need to say it. I need you to know that it’s not just about what happened back then, but all the years since, that I’ve avoided you. You didn’t deserve that.”

His stance softened, his hands coming to hold your shoulders, as he realized that this wasn’t an official visit, despite the Heroics helicopter.

“Hey, I know that, of course I do. What is this? Are you in trouble?”

“No, not trouble, just…”

…My last chance to tell you… Oh, to hell with spores and fuck time-travel for making you do this!

“Something’s gonna happen soon. Something really bad, and we can’t stop it.”

“The Heroics can’t?”

“…No one can.”

He stared at you for a minute, taking his hands off your shoulders and bringing them to his own hips instead. He was reading you, gaging the severity of your tone and everything else about this strange situation, and then he dipped his head and swallowed hard, having apparently landed on a conclusion.

“You’re talking end of the world-level bad… aren’t you?”

You only just managed to nod once in confirmation, and saw his eyes close, trying to avoid having to absorb that. But he did. No matter what, Chris had always believed you, always known when you were joking and when you weren’t. Your being there, coming to him like this, in the end it was probably all the proof he’d ever need that this was real.

“How long?”

“Days… at best. It’s gonna get bad. People going mad and then dying like flies. We know what’s causing it, but we just don’t have enough time to stop it.”

“But you’re gonna try something anyway.”

Your chest pinched at his words, just because of how sure (and correct) he was, your eyebrows knitting together with equal parts grief and solace. Because he knew you, down to the smallest damn detail that not even Marcus had managed to figure out yet.

“What gave it away?”

“You left the engine running.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at how matter of fact he made it sound.

“Don’t I always?”

He knew what you were really saying, you could see it in his eyes. That you were always ready to run. Always kept an escape route open, because the world had taught you that even the parts of life that you’d thought were safe, sometimes weren’t. He pulled you into another hug, and this time you felt sorrow in the uneven breaths that tugged at his chest.

“Whatever’s coming… whatever happens… I love you.”

You gave yourself permission to break, just for this one little moment in time, standing in his embrace, holding him as tightly as your arms could, wishing that the world would just stop being so cruel.

“Love you, too.”

The actual word goodbye was too hard, though, so you merely pulled out of his frame, and walked away, back to the chopper and into the pilot’s seat, grateful that he didn’t follow you to stand there and watch you leave. Like you had so many times before. Once airborne, you pointed the nose of the bird towards the Pacific Ocean and gunned it. It didn’t really matter where on the coast you ended up, you just figured that planting the tree where the infection was spreading the fastest, was a logical conclusion. Whatever Mrs. Bates had meant about the matriarch telling you to go somewhere, was completely lost on you, so you chose to work on the basis of Occam’s Razor instead. Don’t make assumptions or attempt to draw conclusions without facts to support them. Stick to what you know. Easier said than done when something had been putting presumed facts in your head for… however fucking long you’d been in this time-travel rollercoaster. The dampened humming of the rotor, through the protective earpieces in your helmet, was the only sound you heard for the two-hour flight, but the rhythm had a calming effect on you. With each quiet whoof-whoof-whoof above you, it was like your brain was sorting itself out, and by the time you were closing in on your undefined destination, you’d both cried and laughed at old and new memories, fears and hopes, but ultimately reached acceptance. Whether it was fate, or just circumstance, the simple fact was that you had been chosen for this. No one else knew the things that you did. And even though you didn’t know exactly why the sapling had been given to you, you did know that you had to plant it. That it served a purpose. Made all the clearer now when you reached the coast, and flew into a literal red cloud.

The body of the chopper was sealed, the spores had no way of reaching you as long as you stayed inside it, but you’d have to step outside to plant the tree. It was less than five hours since you’d left Los Angeles, and in that time, the coast had been completely overrun by the deadly infection. You flew lower, identifying the city you’d reached as San Diego, and finding the streets littered with bodies that had already decayed enough to release freshly born spores in incalculable numbers. A fresh volley of pain coursed through you at the thought that this cloud would’ve already reached LA too, and that the reason you hadn’t heard anything more from HQ was likely because it was already devoid of anything living. Your mind violently revolted against the image of Missy and Anita having been reduced to these petri dishes of biological matter, shocking you back into focusing on your task. Landing anywhere in the city was out of the question, because any people that were still alive would be out of their minds and extremely violent, which presented too much of a risk against your success. So, you aimed for South Coronado Island instead, the closer of the two islands that sat just eight miles off the coast. It was more of a cliff than an island, sitting in the bay like a knife laying on its back. But on the southern half of it, around what looked like the tallest section, there was a more flattened out area where the chopper should fit.

You landed a little less smoothly this time, because the winds out here were stronger, and coming at the craft from a downward angle as they were pushed up along the steep side of the island. Once you were safely down, you cut the engines and pulled the brakes on the rotor to help slow it down quicker. The cloud was less dense out here, being pushed inland by the winds, but the moment you opened the door, you’d get infected. There was no avoiding that. The frail-looking little plant sat on the second pilot’s seat next to you, making you wonder how the hell this little thing was meant to survive against all this… And then you remembered that that was still only what you’d been made to believe would happen, based on the magical insights that came from inside your own head. In reality, no more reliable than a wish upon a star. And yet, you trusted it. Was that what Bates had meant?

Go where it told you to go, and you’ll find the answers you seek.

Perhaps it wasn’t about going to a physical place, but to a place where you believed that this would succeed. Perhaps it was all a leap of faith. You took off your headgear, picked up the baby tree, tucking it safely against your chest, and opened the door. The spores actually stung your skin, they were so potent, and the burn in your lungs was instantly unbearable, making you cough and struggle for air after just one small inhalation. You dropped to your knees right outside the chopper, quickly digging a little hole in the tough, rocky soil, before putting the sapling down in it and covering the base. It couldn’t have taken you more than a minute in total, but as you finished, you could already feel your mind being invaded by the infection, stripping you of thoughts, wishes and memories. Instincts took over, trying to protect you, but there was nothing that could be done. With each passing second, a little more of you was burned away, aggression becoming more and more prevalent to your being.

And then it suddenly stopped. Something moved over your skin, soothing the burn from your toes to your scalp, even under your clothes, and then a movement to your left caught your eye. A man had appeared there, out of seemingly nowhere, and for some reason, your body was reacting to him. Wanting him closer. You were scared and angry, but you didn’t know why. All you knew was that this man looked safe and protective, so you allowed him to put his arms around you. And when he did, something seemed to wake up inside of you. Something so powerful that it felt like you might burst with the force of it suddenly churning through you, making you tremble and spasm in his grip. He took your hand and brought it to the ground right in front of a little plant that had somehow grown all alone up here on the cliff.

“That power you feel, I need you to give it to that little plant. As much as you can spare, can you do that?”

His voice made your body still, calming the whipping waves under your skin, even though you had no idea how you were meant to do what he was asking.

“Look at it. Helpless and all alone out here. Let’s help it grow.”

Something seemed to fall into place inside you as you heard that. You liked to help. To be of use. You didn’t know how you could possibly aid this frail little thing, but he seemed so sure. A thin and shiny thread flowed from his index finger to the sapling, and when it landed, through him, you could feel the thing. Its tiny roots looking for nutrients, and all at once, you knew exactly how to help it. The power inside you flowed through that one little thread, guided by whatever power he had, to be able to do that, straight into the lifeblood of the young tree that eagerly sucked it all in, quickly draining you of strength.

<><><><><>

You didn’t know him. That was the first thing he realized as he stepped through the portal and found you right there, right in the same spot he’d seen in his dreams. His shield could protect you from absorbing any more spores, but it couldn’t undo what damage had already been done. Why hadn’t the portal brought him there a minute earlier? Two minutes… however long you’d been exposed. He could’ve made sure that you’d never needed to inhale a single particle. But you were still alive and letting him touch you, and you seemed calmed by his presence, so perhaps something inside you did still remember. He only knew about the tree because of what the portal had showed him, since he hadn’t been there when you’d received it, or met you at all since then, but he knew that it was the key to everything. When he felt it take the power from your soul, he was terrified at how quickly and effectively it drained you, and he tried to break the connection, to pull his thread back before it killed you. But he couldn’t. The tree grew before his eyes, one foot, then two… five… ten… twenty… fifty, its roots breaking the ground it stood on, turning the south side of the island into rubble under its increasing size and weight, but without letting the two of you get jostled. A thick root settled underneath you, keeping the ground steady so you wouldn’t fall or get buried under the rolling masses of dirt and rock that sent the chopper crashing down into the ocean. But Marcus stopped caring what happened around him when he felt your body go limp in his arms.

“No, no, no… hey, Pita! Look at me, come on.”

He turned you so that your upper body was resting in his lap, gently tapping your cheek to get you to open your eyes. But when you did, ice filled his heart. Because this was the moment. The one he’d seen, over and over, thinking that it was the moment you won. The one he’d clung to in his exile, needing to believe that he had to be absent for, so that you could succeed, but which he now knew was the moment of your sacrifice. You didn’t look scared or confused, angry or sad. Only accepting. His lips, hands and arms started trembling, his stomach clenching in a tight knot, as the tears burned his eyes and a choking pressure clamped down on his throat. In his mind he was begging.

Don’t go. Don’t leave me. I can’t do this again. I need you. Please…

But not a word managed to claw out of his tortured body. And then his thread suddenly snapped, as your soul left you. A single, agonized breath was all he got, and then the roots shifted, something snared you, and you were torn from his grasp, pulled into the ground and buried, without pomp or circumstance. Without choirs or hymns. The roots settled themselves over the spot where you’d disappeared, and the tree and the ground finally stilled.

—————

Link to Chapter 18

Yeah, um..... My apologies, I was cleaning my tearducts and this fell out. Thank you for reading, and I’d love to know what you thought :) Have a wonderful day/night!

Give me a shout if you wish to be tagged on updates, and same goes for being removed from the taglist.

@deadhumourist @idreamofboobear @bison-writes @dornish-queen @ladyphantom96 @sarahjkl82-blog @shsoba05 @cannedsoupsucks @toomanystoriessolittletime @tintinn16 @nolanell @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @myfavpedrothings @generalfoolish @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @trickstersp8 @spishsstuff

#the lost island fic #marcus moreno fanfiction #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x female reader #marcus moreno x you #we can be heroes fanficiton #we can be heroes #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #oreos against angst

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runn0ft · 1 year

Note

48 for the spotify lyrics

Standing Outside a Broken Toll Booth with Money in My Hand by Primitive Radio Gods

“Life is time, they teach you growing up. Seconds ticking killed us all, a million years before the fall. You ride the waves and don’t ask where they go. You swim like lions through the crest and bathe yourself in zebra flesh.”

God. What a banger.

#music

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whatoncewasdeadj · 1 month

Text

Standing Outside A Broken Phonebooth With Money In My Hand by Primitive Radio Gods

Jan lays down and wrestles in her sleep Moonlight spills on comic books And superstars in magazines An old friend calls and tells us where to meet Her plane takes off from Baltimore And touches down on Bourbon Street We sit outside and argue all night long About a god we've never seen But never fails to side with me Sunday comes and all the papers say Ma Teresa's joined the mob And happy with her full time job Do do do do doo do Am I alive or thoughts that drift away? Does summer come for everyone? Can humans do as prophets say? And if I die before I learn to speak Can money pay for all the days I lived awake But half asleep? Do do do do doo do x 2 A life is time, they teach us growing up The seconds ticking killed us all A million years before the fall You ride the waves and don't ask where they go You swim like lions through the crest And bathe yourself on zebra flesh I've been downhearted baby, I've been downhearted baby, Ever since the day we met

#song lyrics

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iyeonjuni · 2 years

Text

MONOCHROME // SIX: marsala

prev / masterlist / next

synopsis: ever since he was born, soobin had psychic empathy powers. he has the ability to read, manipulate and absorb other people’s emotions as his own based on the colors of their auras. but what happens when he meets y/n, who’s emotions he cannot read, manipulate or even take from at all?

word count: 0.5k

a/n: not proofread

Y/N was furious to say the least. Not only because she had to step out of her office but to meet someone who dares to question their intentions of investing in a film. Not on her watch.

If looks could kill, Taehyun would’ve been on the floor this instant as he stares right to her side. Bowing a little as he felt his temples sweat nervously.

“I need to see your boss.” Y/N smiles but from an aura as intimidating as hers, Taehyun could tell that she was feeling anything but. Taehyun had never met Y/N before, but he knows she’s different— you could say she’s the final boss of all clients.

Taehyun leads Y/N to Soobin’s office, the heels clacking against the floor enough to take Soobin’s attention away from his phone. Soobin looks up at Taehyun and his brows furrowed in confusion. Ever since last year’s encounter with Taehyun’s rare change of emotions, this is the second time he’s seen the colors behind Taehyun change from the usual pink and yellow to purple.

Purple, being fear and worry.

He quickly looks at Y/N who is sitting right in front of him, she takes the proposal out of her briefcase and throws it across the table. Soobin had never met someone so daring, and honestly it made him slightly ticked off. As he was about to speak up on the behavior he looks straight into Y/N’s eyes and his eyes grow even wider than they should.

Soobin couldn’t see a thing.

The harder Soobin concentrated on seeing through Y/N, there were no colors in sight and this made Soobin grow nervous.

“Revise the proposal.” Y/N goes straight to the topic, “Evenly distribute the profits, and at least give us a say in the film.”

Soobin doesn’t know what to say, the situation making him ten times more confused than he already was. Not only his powers aren’t working in a situation like this, but whoever was sitting right in front of him isn’t like any clients that he had spoken with before. She was scary, and Soobin felt like he had no choice but to accept her terms.

With a slight nod, Soobin tells Taehyun to revise the proposal instantly and Taehyun walks out of the room as soon as possible. Usually Soobin would be the type to negotiate things out but with his abilities failing him at this very moment, Soobin had no idea what to say to change Y/N’s mind.

For the first time, Soobin was afraid and that his pride had been crushed.

Taehyun returns with the finalised proposal, handing it to Y/N who begins smiling at all the new terms that had been implemented. Y/N signs the proposal at the very end before handing it to Soobin for him to sign too.

“Looking forward to working with you.” Y/N extends her hand with a smile and with shaky hands Soobin returns the handshake. Taehyun leads the way for Y/N and Soobin falls back in his seat with a sign of relief as well as the million thoughts running in his head.

taglist: @luvrbin @fairybinie @txitzy @love-hyuka @junityy @kaimal @odxrilove @soobnny @hoshi4k @tulips4u @myluv-yeonjun @i6hoons @chloracha @paralumanniluna @bubblejunnies @dekusgirl @biuebinnie @darrensos @chaerscharm @todorokiskitten @aespie @jjunis @blaaiissee @enhacolor @hueningluvr @flrtsbin @cherr-y-eji @etherealcherrie @joti17 @justyournormalsimp @95sjcc @whereisgyu @sjyuniverse @wonyofanclub @hyukaas @odetoyeonjun @kori-roe @bakubae000 @alymii @yjwfav @timetoten @you-can-stay-mp3 @kpoploverxx-12 @oi-miya @milkycloudtyg @taekbeokki @ja4hyvn @anik-4 @pieces-of-tomorrow @carayat @jdyunvrs @unhaengilichi @allorysayshi @soobin-chois

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wannabemobwife · 3 years

Text

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas - Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Dusk Till Dawn

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield,

Brother!Parker Holland x Sister!Rosie Holland

-Warnings: Blood, language, angst, fluff, sadness, possible death

-Words: 2.5K

A/n: I’m sorry its short but, I ended it where I feel like I needed to end it to make people wait.

Chapter 10: Dusk Till Dawn

Words: 2.5K

All that could be felt was immense pain. A feeling of death. Tom’s head was throbbing as warm thick liquid streaked across his forehead. His head collided with the door as the copter tossed and turned.

He awoke to the thick, pungent smell of gasoline and to you, paralyzed next to him. It took a minute for him to gather his bearings. The pilot was missing, either he flew out when you crashed or went for help, who knows. Everything started to come back to him, the moments before you both crashed replaying in his head.

The pilot shouting, “MAYDAY! MAYDAY! DOES ANYONE COPY! This is flight number 514 and we are going down.”

“Tom!” “Y/N!”

And you screaming “TOM? WHAT'S HAPPENING?” “I don’t know.” He said pulling you into his arms.

It all happened so fast. First, alarms started going off within the cabin. Then, the pilot started to loose control. Twisting and turning the wheel. The helicopter did somersaults through the air. Tom could see the look on your face, a look of pure terror as the engine started to give out. You all quickly lost altitude and braced for the impact.

You and Tom’s last words were exchange of “I love you”s.

There was no soul in sight for miles, except you. Only the bright blue sky and the mountains of Montserrat. Tom didn’t know why the copter’s engine gave out 17,000 feet in the air. All he knows as you were stranded, with no sense of getting home.

The windows to helicopter were smashed, glass shards littered the floor of the cabin and the blades were deep into the ground. He was lucky the pilot didn’t fly straight into a mountain. There was no sign of the pilot, maybe he parachuted before you crash landed leaving you and Tom to your deaths. Tom didn’t know what to think. His only focus was making sure you were okay.

If it weren’t for the current predicament and the blood dripping down your face, he would have thought you were only sleeping, you looked so peaceful.

He tried to pry himself out of his seatbelt, eventually ripping it so he could get to you. Urgently checking for your pulse. Pressing two fingers below your jaw and against your neck. He was able to breathe again, once he found the faint beat of your heart.

“Y/N? Can you hear me? Wake up, darling.” Tom yelled, shaking you violently.

“Tom? What happened?” Your eyes opened abruptly, confused by your surroundings. “Our helicopter crashed—.”

“Tom, you’re bleeding.” “Not as bad as you. We have to get you out of here. Here, I’ll carry you.” You only nodded in response as Tom tucked his arms under your knees and pulled you close to his chest.

Laying you down near some rocks as far away from the ticking time bomb, the helicopter. It could blow any second, but it never did. The smoke would create the perfect signal but to no avail.

“Tom, your leg!”

“Like I said, it’s not that bad. Oh my god… your stomach” “My what… oh.” You said as you stared at the gapping puncture wound in your right side.

“Is there a first aid kit?” Tom asked. “I think it probably got lost while we were flying.”

“What happened to the pilot?” You questioned. “I don’t know. I can’t find him.” Just nodding in response. Trying not to cry at the situation. You were stranded with no sign of help any time soon.

“Y/N, I need to stop your bleeding… I have an idea. Where is your carry on bag?”

“I put it under my seat” you called out, as Tom searched for it. Opening its contents in search of fairly useful items.

Tom found a hoodie, make up remover that was 70% alcohol, antibacterial wipes, a handheld mirror, and a bunch of makeshift medical items. Your phones had been thrashed, barely working even though there was no signal. He tore the hoodie up and wrapped the pieces around your torso, almost like a tourniquet and bandage to keep pressure and stop the bleeding.

“Ahh,” you screamed, the pain unbearable as he tied the cloth tightly. “I’m sorry,” Tom apologized profusely.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“Now, I have to take care of you,” you said, wiping the blood off of Tom’s.

“No, you need to rest. The kids need you alive more than they need me.” “Don’t say that. They love you and they need both of us alive and well, so let me take care of your leg.”

“Alright, even after a helicopter crash you are still bossy” Tom said chucking.

“Not trying to pick a fight here… I’m sorry but this is gonna sting,” You explained, about to clean his gash.

“It’s ok… aahhh” Tom hissed at the stinging sensation from during makeup remover on the cut on his leg.

“Bet you loved that. A way to get back at me for whatever I did that made you so mad at me,” Tom jabbed.

“You know what you did.” “Y/N this is not the time or the place for this discussion and no I don’t.”

“Let’s just get home alive and then we can resume our fight.”

“You said I love you,” Tom mumbled.

“What?”

“When we were going down… you said I love you. Did you mean it?” “Of course I meant it, Tom. We’ve been together for almost 17 years. How could I not love you?” You cried as Tom pulled you into his warm embrace. Even with the harsh breeze he was still warm to the touch.

“I love you too, darling. We will get out of this, I promise.” Tom asserted and you nodded, trying not let the tears fall.

What killed Tom was the uncertainty of it all. He had to have hope, something you were lacking. He had to have faith that you both would be rescued. That you would get to hold Parker and Rosie in your arms again.

Tom knew you would be okay and rise out of this like a Phoenix from the ashes. Overtime, Tom grew to believe you were indestructible. Everything that you had survived was a marvel. Surviving being tortured by a rival mob, almost dying in childbirth, and now a helicopter crash. There was no, if. You had to survive this. It was hard to have hope when he saw how fast you were deteriorating.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tom asked. Concerned as he noticed your breaths becoming more and more labored.

“I think so, my chest hurts though. It’s getting harder to breathe.” You said, before breaking into a fit of coughs, coughing into your hand. Panic started to arise as small increments of bloods stained your hand.

“Baby, you have to stay with me. Think about Parker and Rosie,” Tom whispered.

“Y/N, we both need to stay awake,” Tom pleaded. “I know, it’s just getting harder to,” you said, your eyes begging to close.

“I know baby. But, Parker and Rosie are waiting for us to come home. They need you Y/N, just like do,” Tom said, cupping you cheek and moving towards you, so you were side by side. Allowing you to rest you head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. For the past weeks, I’ve been so lonely in our bed without you. I’m so sorry that I accused you of cheating.”

“I am too, love. Never in a million years would I cheat on you. You have to know that. I’m so lucky to have you. I never slept with or even kissed Jazz, there’s been someone killing my men at the mob —.” He said, kissing your temple. This kiss was one of longing, he just wanted you to be his again.

“Shh, it’s ok. I don’t want the last words I ever hear to be an explanation of your supposed infidelity.” You said, using the last of energy to let out a strained laugh.

“Y/N, baby you’re not dying ok? You can’t die. Just promise me, you’ll stay awake until help comes,” Tom begged. He couldn’t lose you, not after everything that has happened. He needed you and he always will. “You know I don’t like making promises I can’t keep” you whispered, trying like hell to stay awake as a few tears fell.

It felt like hours, the waiting. The sun had set. Tom had a plan to get you both rescued, when a plane or helicopter flew overhead he would use your compact mirror to reflect the sun. Granted it was a brilliant idea when the sun was still out. If you wouldn’t succumb to your wounds by morning the temperature would certainly kill you both. You had lost all color in your face, looking like a ghost.

You weren’t unconscious but you weren’t very talkative either, which scared the life out of Tom.

Each hour Tom’s hope would fade. He never wanted it to end like this. He demanded he be the one who went first. Tom couldn’t imagine what a world without you would look like.

If it had to be this way, killed, both your prime at least he was holding you in his arms. He was close enough to the point where, if it happened, he could hear your breathing stop along with the beating of your heart. Feeling you tiny labored breaths against his neck.

5 hours, Tom had been holding you, praying you survive, praying he survives along with you.

5 hours and he was ready to give up as he saw you drift off slowly towards a deep sleep. “I’ll see you on the other side, darling” he whispered before letting his eyes flutter to a close.

Back home, everyone was secretly panicking inside. Nikki couldn’t imagine losing her eldest son, neither could Harry and Sam losing their brother. Harry had left to be a part of the search and rescue team. As soon as Paddy got word, he was on the first flight out of Monte Carlo. Dom and all the boys were really trying to keep it together for Rosie and Parker’s sake.

They all had left the news on, praying that it would be announced that you and Tom were found, alive and well. Most of the news updates were irrelevant to the Hollands. They had already known, there was a pilot, even though Tom had been taking flying lessons for years and was skillful at it. They also already knew you were on a business trip. Nothing was really news to them anymore.

“I’m going to make some tea. Anybody want a cup?” Nikki asked, needing a distraction from the chaos. “Yes,” replied Rosie. “Please,” responded Parker. “That’d be wonderful darling,” said Dom. “Just what the doctor ordered. Let me help you with that,” said Sam. They were all big fans of a cup of tea. What couldn’t tea fix?

DING DONG

Rang the door bell. Nobody was really up for visitors but, I would be rude to not answer. Hoping it not some nosy reporters trying to get a story from broken family members of you and Tom.

“Rosie could get that, please?” Nikki called from the kitchen.

“Sure Grandma,” Rosie replied somberly. Opening the door to the last person she expected to see but the first person she wanted to see. After her parents, of course.

“I just came to see if you were okay. My dad is doing everything he can through the business side… I know you need your space. This was a mistake, I’ll go.” Henry said, staring at the ground. “Please, stay,” Rosie muttered, teary-eyed from all the crying.

“You mean it?”

“I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Hey, come here. They’ll be okay.” Henry said, wrapping his arms around her. Oh god, how missed comforting her.

“Henry, I’m so scared. What if we can’t find them?”

“Roo, we will find them. You have to have hope.” “I keep thinking we find them, but they’re dead.” “You can’t think like that,” he said, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“I missed you. Thanks for being here, you’re a nice distraction” “I’ll always be here,” he whispered, cut off by Rosie’s lips against his. It didn’t take long for him to kiss back. This was his second chance and he wasn’t going to miss it.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” Rosie said, pulling away.

“No, I’m sorry. I really screwed up. I never should’ve broken up with you. I love you too much, Rosie Louise Holland. Take me back?”

“I’ve always loved you, Henry Maxwell Osterfield. Of course,” reassured Rosie. Capturing his lips once more in a more passionate yet gentle kiss. “Wait, I have something for you,” Henry stopped, pulling out something from his back pocket.

“That is, if you still want it,” he explained, holding you the silver charm necklace adorned with a H and a R. “Duh, div. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Rosie quipped as he clasped the necklace together. “There. Now it’s back in its rightful place,” she said, the biggest smile adorning her face. “Rosie, get in here! There’s an update,” called Parker from the living room.

Rosie pulled Henry through foyer and to the family room for the news. She tensed at the thought of the words “2 DEAD” displaying across the silver screen.

“We’ve just got word that both Tom and Y/N have been found. We are unaware of their condition. They are being airlifted to a hospital in Barcelona. Hopefully we can update you on that once families members have been informed. The pilot is still missing. Please stay with us as we continue to update you on this story,” announced the newscaster. Everyone rejoiced, there were no longer sad tears only happy ones. They were all on the first flight out including Harrison and Henry.

It was miracle, they found you when they did. Harry was part of team in rescuing you and Tom. He refused to sleep until he brought you both back home.

“We found them!” A loud speaker sounded from the chopper flying above. The rescue was eminent, you and Tom were found.

“Get two stretchers over here,” called one of the rescuers.

“Tom? Can you hear me? It’s Harry,” Harry said, trying to wake Tom.

“Harry?” Tom whispered, slightly stirring awake.

“Yes, you’re saved. We got you and we are on our way to the hospital.”

“What about Y/N? She’s lost a lot of blood. Please tell me she’s ok,” Tom pleaded, eyes barely even open.

“They got her in the other chopper. She’s gonna be ok, I promise,” Harry stammered.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Tom whispered before being consumed by darkness.

A/n: I just want to apologize here, I'm sorry. I'm so in love with this chapter and couldn't wait to share it with all of you.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist:@thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom #mob!tom #mob tom #mob!tom x reader #dad!mob!tom holland #mob!tom holland #mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom x mob!reader

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drearydaffodil · 3 years

Text

like the primitive radio gods

I stand outside a broken

phone booth with money

in my hand, that connection

cut like your carotid as you

flew like the angel you always

ever were and every silence

is seconds that I miss you

and one day I'll stop crying

every time I remember you

after all: "the seconds ticking

killed us all a million years

before the fall."

#poetry #poem

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jackarychaoti · 3 years

Text

DWC2021-15 - Memory/Chase

TW: Blood | Body Horror | Disturbing Images

-[ MUSIC ] -

Insanity.

In Azeroth, it was known as The Madness, The Darkening, the Dragon’s Sickness... The Nightmare. In many worlds, in millions of languages, it had endless names but it always meant the same thing. A corruption, often brought on by nightmarish feelings or situations, that ate the being alive, twisting it into something else entirely. Dragons fell particularly hard to such a toxic curse, especially.

This was no exception.

“DO NOT LET HIM GET INTO THE FOREST, WE’LL FUCKING LOSE HIM FOREVER!!”

Lokitan screamed as a mere handful of the Heran army raced upon war-bred Granondo, a clove-hooved type horse with coiled horns, best used to ram incoming enemies. Terrifyingly fast creatures that feared nothing in the heat of battle and yet they could not quite keep up with the terror streaking through the rotting fields of a dying wasteland and seemed even less inclined to get anywhere near it.

The target they hunted was a slithering creature running on all fours, bones twisted and inhuman with long tendrils of muddied hair, making the thing look even more sickly in the way that it hung over the face. Now and then, piercing silver eyes would dart back to see just how much closer its pursuers had come in the wild hunt, noting the way the warriors had begun to flank it. If only it could reach the edge of the forest, the beast would have a far better tactical advantage and a speed increase, let alone an easier time to attack those that hunted it.

“Loki!” A voice called out and soon a female rider pushed her steed up to the Dread Prince himself, eyes narrowed, glancing over in his direction. Fire blazed all around her, the snowy locks of her hair wild and free as a hellish set of crimson eyes flitted to the dark-haired rogue. “What do we do if it gets to the forest before we can reach him?!”

“You pray to your mother that we take him down before that.”

Chaos.

It was absolute chaos and he had just told her to pray to the deity that created it.

Inch after inch, Lokitan pressed forward, signaling the General’s finest men to continue flanking the beast, heels dug in harder into his skeletal Granondo to push onward and finally close in the distance of the skittering cretin running on all fours. Once close enough, the agile Prince pushed himself to crouch atop the saddle; he lunged, flickering through the very shadows to reappear right on top of the nightmarish beast. He dared not draw a weapon.

Not against this one.

The clashing form was greeted by the muddied, anemic animal twisting itself to bite hard at its would-be attacker, using the momentum to kick Lokitan right off and send him flying. That mere few seconds to protect itself was costing its safety to get into the forest. A loud shrieking cry pierced through the veil of carnage, knowing the chase was quickly coming to an end. Claws grabbed at the deep red mud below, years of war and corpses all around, the thick blood of countless soldiers meshed together with protected soils and painful, bitter rain. The slick surface had the creature try another attempt to break free, slipping the first few steps.

It was so close… The forest was but a hundred yards away.

Lokitan rolled through the slimy fighting ground, catching himself to snag at the beast’s ankle, yanking it back to throw it in the other direction. He was doing all he could to buy the warriors more time to position themselves and close in on the fighting pair.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Jack.”

Melted silver raised from under the long strands of hair while the beast hunched itself further, a deep snarl and razored fangs revealed themselves in a warning. The aggressive display had Loki push himself to stand and raise his clawed hands, exposing that he was as unarmed as he could possibly be. He stared down at the nightmare-fueled version of his cousin, his best friend who he knew was in so much pain that he had allowed the darkness to consume his heart.

“Look at me, Jackary… I don’t want to hurt you, hn..?”

There was a brief pause and for a moment, the world stood still. Even the droplets of sweat and foul mud froze in place for a fraction of a second while the thing Lokitan referred to as ‘Jackary’ mulled over its choices. Heavy breaths of air pushed out, bellowed in smoke pouring from its twisted jaw that was filled with acidic drool that flopped to the ground in large globs - a clear sign of the beast’s stress.

“Let’s get you home… Let’s get cleaned up…” A leather-clad hand dared to reach for the unholy creation but within a blink of an eye, time sped back up. Teeth snapped at the grasp, claws raised to full-on attack the one being that kept the beast from the forest it was trying to get to.

“FUCKING--!” Loki found himself head to head with the writhing mass of acid-spitting, half-transformed wyrm, a Beast of Insanity that wore a Prince’s crown and who was upsetting the balance of life and death. Without one, there couldn’t truly be another. Every snap of the jowls and swipe of talons was blocked or barely dodged, up until Lokitan lost his footing.

Slipping, he found himself under those wild jaws, hands clasped the wide-open maw above him that threatened to clamp down on his face and bite his skull clean in half. Muscles ached, his posture shook from trying to push what was once his peaceful, loving cousin off him. It wasn’t until another bubbling mixture of acid was seen dripping from under the beast’s tongue that the rogue knew he was in deep trouble… He was going to have to hurt the beast or die.

One hand released the mouth and in a split-second decision, the palm shoved up hard to strike at the creature’s jawline, his intensely sharp claws sliced the beast’s right jaw, stunning and pushing it away, jarred in surprise. It left Lokitan with just the smallest leeway to raise his hand up in the air, giving a hidden signal.

The Insanity-addled creature hissed loudly but before it could turn to lunge the last few steps to disappear into the forest and become a haunting ghost, a slough of chains and ropes fell atop it, blanketing the wild creature. The engineered nets implanted themselves into the dirt below, radiating pulsations of electrical charges to stun the captured beast into a horrifying submission. The haunting screams of agony, half-human, half-dragon rang out in a near ear-shattering volume.

Only when it stopped struggling to even stand did the shocking currents of energy cease their barbaric, but effective, handling.

“Are you hurt?” The woman from earlier charged forward, sliding down from her fiery warsteed to help Lokitan up from the wet earth.

“No,” Lokitan spat out, snagging the hand to be hoisted up, wincing when it indeed hurt to put any sort of weight on one of his legs. Glancing down at it, he was sure there was likely a fracture somewhere... But now wasn’t the time to dawdle.

“Well, you’re not dead, dear brother, so…” Musing, she helped at least support the Dark Prince, glancing down at the wheezing, now bleeding beast. “This isn’t curable, you know. When someone falls to the Insanity, they don’t come back.”

“Untrue,” Loki quipped, hobbling over with his sister’s help until he was able to ease down and sit next to the captured animal. A gloved hand reached forward, pushing the black hair from its face to indeed reveal a half transformed Jackary, the silver spiral of his eyes a dead giveaway at the corruption. “There was a Priest once who fought it and contained it. Rumour has it he wanders around with a single spiral eye, hn? Fucked up shit.”

The woman sighed, almost huffing while a hand motioned down to what remained of Jack. “Look at him, Lokitan. Half transformed, his brain isn’t fucking in there anymore. Put the thing out of its misery and let the avatar of Life be passed down elsewhere. It’ll rebirth by tomorrow, save your own ass.”

“No.” Lokitan took a moment to grip the skull before him, pinning the dragon further as a small crimson glow overtook his eyes. “He was never meant to hurt anyone, it was her that drove him to this.”

“Yeah, well, she’s pretty fucking dead, now isn’t she?”

A hand waved the antsy woman off, freeing Lokitan to simply focus on the inner workings of the beast before him. It was a rare trick the Rogue had up his sleeve and normally it was used to delve into someone’s memories, to unlock what terrifies them the most to use it against them… But what if, he thought, what if he could use it in reverse?

Time ticked by, allowing the dark, shadowy tendrils of his own essence to seep into Jackary’s form, filtering through and plucking every little bit of the corruption to neatly gather it within. A simple box was made at first, deep inside the dragon’s brain. Soon it was locked away and chained relentlessly to his psyche. A personality that he could never escape from, one that in time, would briefly show a fraction of itself and be referred to as…

Naga.

“M’sorry…” Loki whispered while he worked, remolding and melding Jackary’s very essence and memories to pull him from an otherwise impossible return. It was an attempt to do this or be forced to kill him and Lokitan wasn’t sure he inwardly had the power to do that. “You were designed to never forget.. But if you always remember, there is no saving you from the corruption that has been planted within you.”

Lokitan frowned, rubbing his thumb slowly, sweetly along Jackary’s forehead, the beast had long since stopped trying to fight back. It was lethargic.

“I am taking this from you, Jackary. This thing that turned you into something you aren’t.” Lokitan cooed, almost fondly at his twisted cousin as each memory leading up to a certain event was plucked and stolen away and yet what Lokitan hadn’t realized was that in making such a small hole in Jack’s memory, it served as an endless void. A slow-drip leak that would cause him to forever forget things after a while. A blessing and a curse in the future, but at that moment, when Lokitan gazed down and saw the beginnings of Peridot return to those eyes, he knew it was the best decision he could have made.

---

Darnath quietly clamped the journal closed with a small squeeze to the spine, the entry had been written in a far different font and form which made him think that perhaps Lokitan had written it instead. But... Where the memory that had been stolen was placed was beyond the Dragonsworn.

Stormy grey pools glanced at the snoozing blond curled against his side. Jack, in an elven form, had been cozying up for a small nap while his Knight read, blissfully unaware of what haunting stories Darnath had been refamiliarizing himself with once more. The Champion glanced to the spine of the journal, noting the number upon it, and raised his vision upward. The book he was really looking for must have been the one right before this… Maybe that one held the answer he was looking for.

| - @daily-writing-challenge - |

#DWC2021 #DWC 15 #Jack Facts #A memory long since pased #in the beginning #lokitan #Darnath #Dragonsworn #TW: BLOOD #TW: DISTURBING IMAGES #TW: BODY HORROR

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gaeilgeoirgay · 3 years

Text

Whumptober Day Four

“Do You Trust Me?”

Ao3 Link

Hope you enjoy!

misguided notion of glory

Zuko is relaxing beside the turtleduck pond with Izumi and Sokka when everything goes horribly, horribly wrong. It’s a beautiful day, one of the perfect summer mornings that the Fire Nation is renowned for, and both he and Sokka have a rare day off to spend with their daughter. Mai and Ty-Lee are due to join them for lunch and Azula had asked Zuko to train with her, without a trace of malice in her voice. It’s a good day.

Izumi is lying on her front, drawing the turtleducks, her little tongue poking out the corner of her mouth as she focuses intently. She’s the mirror image of her father, who’s doing the same thing over a blueprint. It’s one of Sokka’s personal projects, and he gets so little time to work on them nowadays. Zuko is content to watch them, meditating peacefully as he gazes upon his family.

The fire dancing between his hands is full of riotous colours, purple and orange and pink and red. It’s dragon-fire and the very heart of it pulses with life as it beats in time with Zuko’s heart. It’s one of the best meditation sessions he’s had in a while.

That’s why it catches both him and Sokka off-guard when a figure simply hops the low wall of the garden pond and grabs their daughter with a fistful of flames to her throat. He and Sokka are both on their feet within seconds of the assailant’s appearance but Zuko’s own fire dies in his hands as he sees how close the attacker’s flames are to Izumi. Any movement he makes won’t be fast enough to stop them before they burn her.

Sokka has evidently realised the same thing as while his sword is gripped tightly in his hand, it’s not pointed towards Izumi and her captor. The bastard is smirking as he holds fire to a seven-year-olds throat and Zuko is abruptly reminded of a duel fourteen years ago and a man who had smiled as he burned his own son.

“Let go of our daughter. Now.” He growls, threat in his voice, but the man doesn’t move.

(There are tears in Izumi’s eyes but she doesn’t let them fall. There will be time to fall apart later but for now, Izumi keeps herself calm. She knows her fathers will save her.)

“No, I don’t think I will. My name is Yoshi Sentaku and I am Fire Lord Ozai’s faithful subject. You have him imprisoned beneath this palace and I demand his release. Otherwise, I will kill your daughter where she stands.” Sentaku says confidently, assured that Zuko and Sokka will follow his directions.

Zuko… doesn’t know what to do. If he releases his father, the world will be wreathed in flames once more, and thousands will die. If he doesn’t, it’s his daughter that will burn. Questions like this always seemed so easy in the abstract. Let one person die in exchange for millions, but the person is Izumi and he loves her. He loves his people too though. How can he choose one?

He sees the same indecision in Sokka’s eyes. They cannot place a single life above the fate of the world, but Izumi is their daughter. Ozai no longer has his bending but that won’t matter to his followers, as consumed by hatred as they are. They will set the world alight for some misguided notion of glory and It will be Zuko’s fault.

But he can’t let Izumi, their miracle child, die because of her familial sins. The clock is ticking though, and Sentaku is waiting for an answer. It’s not a choice at all, but he never wanted to have to do this.

Zuko takes a deep breath and feels his chi paths come to life, sparks racing through his blood. He catches Sokka’s gaze, electricity in his eyes, and Sokka understands instantly, the brilliant genius he is. Sokka turns to Sentaku, trusting Zuko to watch his back and Zuko silently says a prayer to Agni to ask Them to look after this family for him, because he has been denied too much love to lose it now.

“Ozai was a failed king, who was beaten by a twelve-year old. He’s not fit to lead those turtleducks, let alone a nation. He’s a monster who deserves to be left to rot in the hole we threw him in.” Sokka says, taunting Sentaku until his only focus is on Sokka. It leaves Zuko free to enact his plan.

After many years of experimentation, Zuko has finally learnt the firebending forms that work for him. They’re bright and full of energy, and they complement his sister’s bending which is all power and precision. But he hasn’t forgotten how he got there in the first place and he draws on all his knowledge for this final move.

Bending is structured into forms for the precise reason that chi needs to move if you want to use it. Even earthbenders, planted rock solid in the earth, use movement in their artistry. Fire especially, needs to move, needs to seek out oxygen to fuel it and life to sustain it.

Lightning though. Lightning only needs sparks of negative and positive energy to connect and create a bolt. Benders are still used to moving though so a form was created. But it’s not the only way to make lightning and Zuko is determined to use another.

“Izumi, sweetheart.” He says, meeting her frightened eyes. “Do you trust me?” He asks and she nods, absolute in her conviction. The sky is blue, firebenders rise with the sun and she can always trust her dads to catch her. It makes Zuko ache for the child he was at her age but he pushes the emotion away. He can cry later.

“Then close your eyes please, darling.” Zuko tells her and Sentaku laughs. “I want my leader freed of course, but I didn’t think you would have the guts to condemn your own daughter to death just to keep him locked away.” He cackles and Zuko grins.

“Oh, I’m not. The only person dying today is you.” He says and lightning strikes.

#whumptober 2021 #no.4 #do you trust me?#avatar: tla #atla #threats of burning #lightning wounds #violence against children #zukka #izumi

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try-set-me-on-fire · 18 days

Note

brick BRICK please I AM ON MY KNEES i just saw the bucktommy MCD fic aldhslhdkalkabsk i know i KNOW you said you don’t have the time or purview to write it, but if you would find it within your heart to further read us into shreds in any way, shape, or form, i’d be eternally grateful

(only if you would like to, of course, and quite honestly, i’m not sure i’d be able to survive another drabble, let alone a fully fledged fic)

Alright okay I’m thinking about it too here’s a tiny thing mwah mwah

“It’s his birthday,” Buck says eventually, when the mug has stopped steaming entirely. It almost startles Eddie, the sudden sound in a quiet that felt so final. He turns off the sink, sets down the last of the dishes, joins Buck at the table. Buck’s thumb caresses up and down the side of the mug. When Eddie picks up his own, it's skin-warm. “I liked to… plan things, I like to be… organized.” A rueful smile that stops miles short of his eyes. “You’ve probably noticed at work. I’ve been told I can be a monster with a clipboard in hand.” His voice is steady enough that Eddie is pretty sure Tommy isn’t the one who ever did the telling. “And he was going to be 45 and feeling some kind of way about that so… So I, uh, had it planned already. Before- uh- b-before.”

Tommy Kinard has been dead for seven months. Eddie’s not sure he’s ever put that much forethought into anything. He enlisted after an afternoon chatting at a recruitment booth. He applied to the fire academy on impulse after he saw an ad online. “What were you…”

Buck sighs. “Camping. Up north. Rented one of those, you know, cute vintage RVs. We were going to stop a few places. Had the vacation time cleared and ready to go.” He grimaces, shrugs, his eyes wet again. “I never… canceled any of it. I probably could have got some refunds, but I just… it was too- I- I just couldn’t.” He coughs something adjacent to a laugh. “The… I picked mint green, like the toaster he- got it from his aunt, I think. Uh. For the RV. It’s probably sitting in a lot somewhere right now waiting for us.”

“Buck, I…” Eddie wants to reach out so bad his hand moves on its own accord, clumsy, catching on his mug and clattering the ceramic against the wood of the table. “If you wanted company you could have told me why, but also you- you didn’t have to come here. I-I’m sorry. I know how hard it can be to… to be around people, to talk to anybody when you’re feeling like… and special occasions just make it worse.”

Buck- laughs. A few soft snorts, through his nose, smile hitting a little closer to clear blue. “That’s the thing, Eddie. That’s the… I miss him like this every day. I wake up and- and there’s a moment before I roll over where I think- hope- what if when I turn he’ll be there smiling at me? I-I-I miss his smile so bad, I- I have pictures, t-there’s even video- our wedding- b-but- but it’s not the same-” He gasps, and his shoulders turn in again, all of him crumpling towards a center line as he covers his face with one hand, the other white knuckled around his mug. “Sorry. S-sorry.”

“No, it’s… it’s okay, Buck.” Eddie’s hand is still hovering over the table, he’d never done anything with it after his failed reach. Close the gap. Just close the gap. He doesn’t.

Buck wipes his eyes, clears his throat, straightens up again. “Sorry. It’s… it’s just a day. They’re all- they’re all going to be like this. He’s not going to be in any of them. So I just have to- I’m just going to keep going.” Another smile, still wet and wretched but genuine anyways. “Besides, I told Chris I’d be here to help. Not a promise I’m interested in breaking.”

Eddie nods, biting his tongue against the sting in his own eyes that he’s not even entirely sure the cause of. “Well, thank god. I flunked freshman bio.”

Tea sloshes over Buck’s hand with how hard his laugh rattles through him. Eddie jumps up to get a towel, and when he goes to hand it over he gets caught frozen for a moment by Buck’s amused eye contact. “Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“I had a C+ average.”

Eddie’s not sure how they manage not to spill the rest of the mug in the outburst that follows, but it stays stubbornly upright as their laughter bounces around the kitchen cabinets, mixing together, filling the room. When Buck smiles up at him again it looks just a little easier, and Eddie thinks- he thinks he’d do a lot to make Buck’s life easy. He shakes out the towel and cleans up the tea.

#mcd #major character death #buck x tommy #my writing #buddie #the seconds ticking killed us all a million years before the fall

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slytherinbarnes · 3 years

Text

Sub Rosa [80]

ix. what you take with you

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, fighting, language.

Summary: Two unexpected people join you in your captivity.

a/n: NUMBER 80??!! HOW DO WE ONLY HAVE 20 LEFT???? LIKE W H A T? also this is one of my favorite chapters so I’m excited to share it with you!!! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

Time passes in the cave slowly as you wait for something to happen. Anything really. But your captivity is largely uneventful after your initial escape. Most of the Children of Gabriel ignore you as they go past, moving in and out of the cave, and only once does one of them interact with you, a few hours into your captivity. She grabs your head and tugs it forward, checking for a mind drive scar, and when she finds none she informs the others and leaves you alone again.

Sometime after dark, something finally starts to happen.

There’s a commotion in the cave, and people rush past you and towards the door, some of them talking about new hostages as they go. You stand, moving as close to the door as you can, eyes trained on it as you await the arrival of whoever else they found. You finally see movement towards the entrance to the cave, and you watch two people being led inside, bags over their heads. You feel your heartbeat quicken, wondering if you know who they are, but you don't have to wonder for long because the taller of the two figures mutters, “I need to see Gabriel.”

You feel a rush of relief, and worry, at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, and you call out, “Bellamy?”

He calls your name back, and then the bag is pulled off his head, the two of you looking at each other in shock. Bellamy’s face drops when he sees the blood smeared on your face, and you shake your head a little trying to let him know that it’s nothing to worry about. You tug against your chains, trying to reach him, and he launches himself towards you, slipping from his captors grip. He rushes across the cave to you, his arms wrapping around you for half a second before he is yanked away and you’re rewarded with a hard slap. You let out a sound of pain, groaning at the familiar metallic taste washing over your tongue, and you turn and spit the blood from your mouth, before looking up with a glare, eyes landing on the person who slapped you.

You almost roll your eyes when you realize it’s Asher, who now has black warpaint smudged around his eyes. He smiles at you, clearly enjoying his torment of you. “What? Do you have something to say?”

You let your anger get the best of you and you search your head for the nickname used in Sanctum that you’re sure will hurt him, coupled with a reminder of the insult he threw your way before knocking you out. “Yeah, how’d a Null get past the radiation shield anyways? Your red blood isn't good for anything.”

The insult hurts him, as intended, but it earns you another smack, this time accompanied by Bellamy’s struggling cry of protest. You keep your sound of pain at bay this time and turn your glare back to the man, who smirks at you. “I slipped out the same time your boyfriend did, he was just too busy to notice.”

You look at Bellamy, who looks like he has a million things he wants to ask you, but you’re cut off by a voice muttering, “Ew, what’s that smell?”

You look over to the second hooded figure, and watch as they tug the bag off Josephine’s head. She looks around in disgust before her eyes find you, taking in your appearance, and she scoffs, “God, you look like shit.”

Josephine’s presence seems to remind Bellamy that there is more at stake here, and he looks at the man standing beside you. “Which one of you is Gabriel? We have information critical to your cause.”

Josephine laughs, “Their cause is a joke.”

“Quiet!”

But Josephine doesn't stop, she just continues her taunting with a smirk. “Do you think that dressing up in scary costumes helps your cause? We laugh at you in Sanctum.”

“Why aren't you laughing now?”

The same woman from the alleyway, a blonde with warpaint, pulls out a sword and points it at Josephine. She doesn't flinch, but you can see Bellamy start to worry, and he calls out, “Just wait. They can make hosts, as many as they want.”

Asher turns to look at you in shock, Bellamy reiterating the same information you initially offered him, verifying it before your 24 hours is up. You smirk at him a little and mutter, “Told you.”

He glares at you before turning to look at Bellamy. “Details, or your rude friend dies.”

Bellamy shakes his head. “I don't think so.”

The man pulls out your Grounder knife and holds it to your throat, giving Bellamy a sinister smile. “Something tells me we could make you talk.”

“Touch her, and I'll tell you nothing.” You can see Bellamy fighting against his rising anxiety, trying to seem like the one in control, despite the fact that all of you are restrained and you have a knife at your throat for the second time in the last few hours. “You don't have long before the 12 Primes are back. Gabriel gets the details, no one else.”

The man grinds out, “There were 13.” He tosses you to the ground and yells to the others, “Chain them up! If the old man doesn't respond, you die.”

They chain Bellamy to your left and Josephine to your right, and all of you watch as one of the Children of Gabriel grabs a radio and starts to speak into it, walking out the cave as he does. “Jericho to Providence. We have a prisoner that claims Primes can now make hosts. If you're out there…”

You don't hear the rest, the man now out of sight, the rest of the children dispersed, the three of you now alone. You look to the entrance of the cave in confusion, thinking of the failure all of you have had with radios up to this point, a fact that you are well aware of, despite your limited time on this moon. So how come people born and raised here don't know the same fact? You look over at Bellamy, who looks equally confused, and you voice the question you're both thinking. “Radios don't work on this moon, how could they not know that?”

“They work in one place.”

You and Bellamy look over at Josephine, catching onto something in her tone. She leans her head back against the wall, eyes on the ceiling, looking anxious and afraid. “What is it?”

“If they're calling Gabriel, that means he's alive.”

Bellamy, sensing a deeper history, asks, “What's the deal with you two?”

“What? Are we gonna be friends now?”

He lets out a soft snort of laughter, “Doubtful.”

She glances at both of you, taking you in, before she turns away again, focusing her gaze on the wall in front of her. “I've been in love with Gabriel for 236 years, the last 70 of which he's been trying to kill me. You know, relationships.”

You and Bellamy share a look, glad that your relationship hasn't featured any murder attempts. Well, there was an attempt during the eclipse, but that’s not the same thing. You look back to Josephine when you hear a strange tapping sound, your eyes falling to her finger, tapping Morse Code against the cuff. Bellamy and Josephine notice too, and she nods, “Morse code, huh? She's crafty, I'll give her that.”

She focuses on the Morse Code, spelling out the translation as her finger moves. “B-o-o-h-o-o. That's harsh.”

You smile at your twin’s quip, until your brain starts to realize something. You look at Josephine with curiosity, aware that if Clarke is cracking jokes about Josephine’s love life, then she can hear Josephine talking about her love life. “She can hear us?”

“It would seem so, which means the wall separating our minds is almost gone. When that happens, she'll stroke out, I'll download, and you can say goodbye to your genocidal twin.”

“Let me talk to her.”

She gives you a condescending look, “I'd have to give over control for that, so no.”

“But she can hear me?”

“Yes, she can hear you.” She rolls her eyes at you and the hopeful expression on your face. “For God's sake, just say what you want to say.”

You think of all the things you want to say to Clarke, all the things you want to tell her in case you have to say goodbye, but then you realize you don't want to say goodbye. You can’t say goodbye. No matter what it takes, no after what you have to do, you will save your twin's life, the way she has saved yours and countless others on multiple occasions. Which is why you settle on, “I won't let you die.”

You’re serious when you say it, the words a promise to the Universe that you will do what needs to be done. Josephine seems taken aback by your fervor, maybe even a little jealous, but you see her hand absentmindedly rub her wrist, the same wrist that usually holds your twin’s bracelet. You smile for a second, but then the bracelet reminds you of Madi, who is supposed to be here right now. You turn to face Bellamy, fighting back your worry. “Wait, where are the others?”

“Back in Sanctum. Josephine cut Murphy so Emori stayed behind with him, and Echo stayed behind to make sure the others are safe. We never found Madi before we had to leave, and Jackson, Miller, and Jordan were late. We didn't have time to wait because the guards were closing in, so I grabbed Josephine and we escaped.” He moves closer to you, his chains reaching yours, thankfully, allowing the two of you to sit close. His voice drops to a whisper as he lifts his hands to caress your face, finger running across the dried up blood, brows furrowed with worry. “I didn't want to leave you behind, but when you didn't show up and the guards were about to grab us, I thought about what’s best for everyone and decided that saving Clarke is important.”

You smile at him, letting him know you aren’t upset that he left you behind. Because technically you were already out of Sanctum. “You’re right, saving Clarke is important, and it’s exactly what I wanted you to do. Clarke’s trapped in her head and her body is a ticking time bomb. I can take care of myself.”

He smiles at you, eyes falling on the blood again, its presence only further convincing him of what you're saying. “I know you can, because you’re strong. Stronger than any of us.”

The two of you kiss, his touch light and affectionate, but you pull away when someone behind you exclaims, “Oh, barf. Get a room.”

You roll your eyes at Josephine and mutter, “Go float yourself.”

“Funny, your sister said the same thing to me when we first met.”

You ignore her and slide down to the ground, leaning against the wall, and Bellamy does the same, the three of you sitting in silence for a few hours. You see no one in those few hours, and eventually the three of you fall asleep, resting the best you can on the cold hard ground of the cave, with you and Bellamy huddled close to fight off the slight chill in the air.

You wake a few hours later, sometime after sunrise, according to the small amount of light filtering into the cave, and when you open your eyes and look at Bellamy, you find that he’s already looking at you. Despite your circumstances, despite the possibility that you, Clarke, Josephine, and Bellamy could possibly die in a few hours, you feel a rush of peace looking up at his face, and the distinct feeling that everything is right in the world. Bellamy must feel it too, because he leans in to kiss you, soft and sweet, reminding you just how much you love his morning kisses. And his afternoon kisses, and his evening kisses, and his happy kisses, and his sad ones, his comforting ones, his passionate ones. Every kiss from Bellamy is better than the one before it, and you’re sure you could spend your entire life doing nothing but kissing him and you’d still die happy.

Bellamy pulls away and looks down at you with a smile. “To other people, you are the moon. The radiant natshana that lights up even the darkest of nights, but to me, you’re everything. The moon, the sun, the stars. You’re the air I breathe and the love in my heart. You are every leaf, every tree, every moon, planet, and galaxy in this endless Universe. You are everything to me, and you have completely captured my heart from the moment that I met you, though I tried to deny it at first.”

The two of you laugh softly as you remember the animosity that you shared in the beginning. Bellamy starts to sit up, pulling you up with him, both of you turning to face each other as you do. You can tell he has more that he wants to say to you, and though you don't understand why you're getting this declaration of love now, you accept it with a smile. “I have never been loved by someone the way you love me, and I know I’m incredibly lucky that I get to have this. That I get to have you. You have loved me at my best, and you have loved me at my very worst, and even when I am lost and struggling, still you’re there, loving me through it all. You have the biggest heart, one that is so full of love that you are so eager to give, and I love you for that. I love your strength, your vulnerability, your kindness, your beauty. I love everything about you, and I just want to give you the world. I want to protect you, and love you, and make you happy until I draw my last breath. And I’ve been waiting to tell you all of this, waiting for the perfect moment during our new life of peace, but I’m starting to worry that I won’t get that chance. I can't tell you how many times I’ve seen you laying beside me, injured, looking like you’re on the brink of death, and when I couldn't find you yesterday, I nearly lost it. So I’m going to do this while I can, while you’re in front of me, alive and okay.”

He reaches up to push your hair away from your face and you close your eyes and lean into his touch, smiling. When you open your eyes again, his hand is extended between the two of you, a small ring held out in his palm. It’s beautiful; a small round sapphire surrounded by a perimeter of tiny diamonds, all situated on a thin gold band. You look up at Bellamy in shock, his expression one of complete adoration as he whispers, “Will you marry me?”

You look between him and the ring, wondering if he’s joking, but when you meet his eyes again, you can see that he’s completely serious, and still anxiously awaiting your answer. Your face splits into a grin and you practically lunge towards him, pulling him into a hug before peppering kisses all over his face. He laughs, one of those bright pretty ones that you wish you could capture in a bottle and keep forever, and his voice is light with happiness when he says, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You kiss him softly on the lips, pulling away just enough to whisper, against them, “Yes.”

His smile gets even wider, and he pulls you in for another hug, before leaning back and holding up the ring again. He takes your hand and slides it onto your left ring finger, both of you marveling at the perfect fit. You admire the ring, and the way it looks on your finger, and he whispers, “It was my mother’s.”

You look up at him, your eyes growing wide. “Oh, Bellamy.”

But he smiles, sadness unable to reach him in this moment. “She gave it to me before she was floated, told me to give it to the girl that captures my heart. I didn’t have it when I hopped on the dropship, but when I went back to the ring with the others, I went looking for it. I’ve had it with me everyday since I left you on Earth, carrying it with me to remind myself of the girl that captured my heart.”

You feel tears well up in your eyes, and you start to lean in for another kiss when a voice behind you stops you in your tracks. “Ugh, again? Are the two of you capable of keeping it in your pants long enough for us to get out of here?”

You and Bellamy both cut back, “Shut up, Josephine.”

She holds her hands up in mock surrender before sitting up from her sleeping position, resting her head against the cave wall again. You see a smirk pass over her features and you give her a questioning look. “What?”

“My father was a fool for letting you people stay. All that time spent building a sanctuary for the human race, and he destroys it because of the most human thing of all...love.” She shakes her head before she smirks again, “I mean, who can blame him? I am awesome. It's just…”

She trails off, looking at you and Bellamy, still pressed close together. “Well, one look at the two of you, and he should have known how this would end. Guess I'm just saying all this because I know so much about both of you now.”

You nod your head, giving her a sarcastic look. “Oh, you do, huh?”

She hums in agreement, looking between you and Bellamy again. “Take the three of you, for instance. Now that's a weird relationship, isn't it? First, the twins hate each other when they land on Earth, and then Bellamy wants to kill both of you just to save his own ass, even though it means the genocide of your own people on the Ark. Then you two shack up, and Bellamy and Clarke become besties, all of you bonding over the actual genocide at Mount Weather.”

She lifts her hand, pretending to push a fake lever, “Together.”

You roll your eyes as she continues on, “Bellamy locks her up, she locks you both up, he leaves you and Clarke on Earth, she leaves you both to die in the fighting pits. I mean, it's exhausting, frankly.”

You snort, “Tell me about it.”

Bellamy leans his head against the wall, turning his gaze away from her. “You're wrong about how this ends, by the way. First, we get you back into your mind drive, and then we'll use it for a peace deal with your father.”

“Your belief in yourself is cute. But unfortunately, putting aside about a thousand variables, chief among them Clarke's newfound evangelical, do better-ism, making it impossible for her to accept a peace deal with those awful body snatchers, all four of us are gonna die in this cave.”

Bellamy nods, convinced that this is not where your story ends. “Yeah, okay. We'll see.”

She turns to glare at him, “Okay, now your confidence is just pissing me off.”

Bellamy looks at her like he’s about to respond, but suddenly the energy in the room changes. Seconds later you can hear the sound of approaching voices, and all three of you stand, looking towards the entrance to the cave. Asher comes in first, leading the rest, and he points his sword at you, commanding, “Gag the prisoners.”

He yells into the cave, for the others hidden deep inside, “Everybody up! The Sanctum riders are coming!”

You and Bellamy exchange a look as a few of the guards walk over to you, ready to gag you. They head to Josephine first, grabbing her harshly to hold her still, but she fights against them, yelling, “Get away from me!”

One of the men hits her hard and she falls to the ground. When they pull her back to her feet, a small line of black blood drips from her mouth, giving her status away. You whisper, “Shit.”

Chaos erupts after that, and the blonde woman starts to yell, “She's got the blood! She's got the blood!”

Asher comes over and looks at Josephine, eyeing the blood dripping from her mouth. “Put her on her knees.”

You know what’s gonna happen next, because they did the same thing to you hours ago. You look at Bellamy in alarm before turning and yelling, “Leave her alone!”

They force her to her knees and lift her hair, revealing the short scar on the back of her neck. Your stomach drops as they announce to the group, “She's a Prime! Unchain her, put her there.”

Asher motions to a flat rock nearby, and they unchain Josephine and drag her over to it, ignoring your begging, “Don't do this, please!”

Bellamy adds, “The drive in her head, it's Josephine!”

The name seems to make things worse, because the guard at Josephine’s back shoves her forcefully down, pressing her face into the rock. She mutters, “Not helping.”

“Think! As long as she's alive, you have leverage over Russell!”

Asher looks at Bellamy, his expression neutral, clearly not swayed by the thought of leverage. “This is not a negotiation, it's a war. The answer is Death to Primes!”

You and Bellamy watch in horror as he lifts his sword, fully intending to bring it down and chop off your twin's head, killing her once and for all. You rack your brain trying to think of anything to save her, and as you watch the sword start to lower, Josephine yells out, “Wait!”

The sword freezes in midair, and she exclaims, “Gabriel loves her. Is this what he would want?”

Her? The word hits you like a freight train, and you look at the blonde on the rock with a smile, hoping that the hunch you have is correct. You watch as she turns and kicks the leg of the man holding her in place, breaking it in half. He cries out in pain and releases her, giving her just enough time to dodge the sword that comes down onto the rock, missing her head by inches. She uses Asher’s surprise to grab him and swing him towards the rock, slamming his head into it and dropping him to the ground. Then she takes his sword and kills the man that is running to meet her, leaving only the blonde woman that you first met in Sanctum. But she makes quick work of her too, slicing her throat with the sword, stepping around the fallen body to look at you and Bellamy.

You look at her with a smile of realization, recognizing your twin anywhere. “Clarke?”

She smiles at you, “La lune.”

She bends down and grabs a set of keys as Bellamy looks at her in shock, “She gave you control?”

“It was either that or get her head cut off.”

She runs towards you, fumbling with the ring of keys, trying to find the one that fits your restraints. Deeper in the cave, the other Children of Gabriel have been alerted to your attempts at freedom, and you all look towards the sound of the approaching voices, watching shadows as they bounce off the wall, running closer. “I heard something! This way.”

You close your hands over Clarke’s, stilling her movements, “We don't have time, you have to run!”

“No!” She shakes her head hard, her expression pulling into one of desperation. “I'm not leaving you.”

“You have to! We’re running out of time. Go find Gabriel, we’ll come find you.”

She looks like she wants to argue, but the approaching voices continue to grow louder, and she knows you're right. She slips the keys into your hand, before wrapping one hand around yours and reaching out to wrap one hand around Bellamy’s. “Congratulations. I love you both.”

You smile at her briefly, the expression dropping when the voices are right around the corner, “Go! Now!”

She nods and gives you one last look before turning and running away, straight out of the cave and into the woods. Seconds later a group of people runs past you, heading outside as Asher yells at them, “It's Josephine Prime. Kill her before she gets to the rise. Do not let them get her back to Sanctum! Go!”

They all file out of the cave, leaving their injured leader behind, and you turn to Bellamy, who is looking at you with worry. “What now?”

“Now,” you open your palm, letting the handcuff keys hang down into view, giving him a mischievous grin as you do, “We get the hell out of here.”

He grins back at you, ready to raise hell with his fiance, ready to escape this cave and make things right.

Ready to show the Primes, and the Children of Gabriel, that they picked the wrong group of people to mess with.

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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alchemistbee · 4 years

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Winds

Five Hargreeves x reader

N/A: this is the first fic I publish, it’s not really good but I had an idea in my head and wanted to get out of my system. I apologize for gramatical errors. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Summary: When The Handler finds out you, an ex-Commision agent, is out of hiding and helping the Hargreeves, she decides to use that to get to Five.

Warnings: Spoiler-ish for S2

Five got a grip of your shaking body. He held you tightly against him, assuring himself of your safety. His hair had flown in every direction, and the current sweat dripping from his forehead only made his stressed and fearful state clearer. He had never felt his heart beat so fast as it did now, he could feel every pulse in his body and it wasn’t long before it started to pulse painfully in his head.

It had taken him a lot of strength to save you, so much that when he tried to teleport again now, his hands were only capable of shaking in place. This was bad. Really bad. He needed to find a way to get you both out there, but how? He wouldn’t get far with you without his powers, The handler knew that, and she would not miss any chance to let you slip from her hands again “Y/N?” Five tilted his head down to look at you, calling your name in a soft and worrying tone when he felt your shoulders shake under his arms.

He felt his heart stopped at the sound you did then, a painful sobb leaving your lips. He quickly tried to look down over your body, trying to find the source of your pain, but you weren’t harmed—No. You were scared. In all his years during Commision, he had never seen you like this. He has never seen you breakdown from the stress or show your true emotions. You always put a smile on your face, no matter how hard the job got...You never let anyone see through. But today, today your last string had been pulled, and now you found yourself crying in none other than Five Hargreeves arms. Not really your first option considering the man couldn’t be more clueless on what to do in situations like this, but there was no going back now.

Five’s eyes darted around the room in hopes of finding a way to get out. There was only one door, one door that either meant their freedom or their room. He could barely feel his own legs when he tried to shift, and getting his breathing to slow it’s pace was a little complicated too. He was blinking too many times, trying to forget the scene that has just happened before him. You were in danger, and it was his fault for dragging you along. He knew you had been running from The Commision radars for years, he knew he shouldn’t have asked for your help...He knew the risk. But, so did you.

When The Handler found out about you being with the Hargreeves, helping them, it didn’t take her long to send Lila after you. She considered you to be one of the most skilled agents, sharpest minds and best weapons The Commision had in years before Five. They had lost you out of their own irresponsibility, by trusting your loyalty to them you had been capable of fooling them. You escaped The Commision after a long forty-two years, leaving chaos and anger behind. The Handler wanted revenge, that or for you to return to your post, something you refused to go back to.

You knew that they would come sooner or later to kill you, but you hadn’t expected her to use you against Five. You hadn’t expected The handler to manipulate Five into coming into the old building, to suggest trading your life for his while holding you up by the collar and threatening to throw you into your demise.

“The clock is ticking, Five” The blonde woman smirked “Unless you want to lose your precious (Y/N), I suggest you decide soon”

Five’s jaw clenched tightly, his eyes moving from her to you constantly. Your eyes were completely flushed with fear, the wind from this height was violent and cold. A fall from here was not possible to survive, but did it matter? Your life was being threatened so Five could throw away his family, the world...you knew what you had to do. There was no way you were going to let Five throw his years of work because of you. There were lives on the line, what was one in front of millions?

You looked into Five’s eyes for what you thought would be the last time, tears started to sting your (e/c) pupils. For a moment, Five squinted his eyes at you, trying to figure out what you were trying to tell him, but that soon was answered. That’s the first time you had ever seen Five’s pupils reflect such immense fear. You bit Lila’s hand, to which she yelled and instinctively let go of the grip she had you in, letting gravity take care of your body.

“(Y/N)!!” Five screamed your name in desperation, already feeling his eyes stinging with the hot liquid. Without second thought, he went after you without the knowledge to know if he could save you. He teleported mid air, the wind burning against his skin violently while he pushed his hand to reach you.

“Five, what are you doing?!” You screamed through the loud noise, seeing how Five chose to endanger his own life. His hand was reaching out to you, instinctively your arms reached out, both of you trying to connect your bodies while the wind played a funny game with your bodies.

“I am not leaving you! I didn’t come this far to lose you too!” There was no way to know how long you both had before hitting the ground, but all it took for Five to take your hand was teleporting closer and closer, until catching you. There, he tried to focus his eyes into the floors of the building, and though it took him more energy than he wished, he was able to teleport him and you inside.

Your bodies landed loudly and painfully against the floor. That’s where you were now, inside Five’s arms, shaking and crying as he tried to catch his breath “(Y/N), we need to get out of here” as much as he wanted to comfort you, that would have been a priority later. You looked up to Five, giving a small nod and using your own hands to wipe the tears running down your cheeks. You pushed yourself from Five, and helped him up as you noticed how weak he looked.

He could barely stand on his own, and the burning sensation in his body wasn’t making it any easier for him to move. You took his arm to your back, letting the weight of his body lean into yours “I got you” you said softly, taking steady and slow steps so Five would be able to stay along. There was only one way out of here, and it was through that damn door...But it only became clear that your escape would be much complicated when Lila opened the door alongside her mother. You weren’t going to make it out.

“You are not going anywhere”

#number five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #tua imagine #tua #the umbrella academy #number five #number five imagine #my work #fanfiction #aidan gallagher #umbrella academy

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disneydreamlights · 4 years

Text

Anidala Fic Recs

I got asked for fic recs for these. NSFW will be in a private post (that I’ll make later GOING THROUGH YOUR AO3 HISTORY IS TEDIOUS) for easy DMing purposes. All recs under a read more.

So first for authors:

Just about anything by SkywalkersAmidala and Gemma’s Writing (@gemmaswriting)

Everything I’ve read by them is absolutely fantastic, and believe me, I’ve read pretty much everything from them. Multiple times in some cases. They’re just very good. SkywalkersAmidala in most cases writes more silly lighthearted AUs and Gemma’s Writing does a bit of everything, all of which are good.

Padme Lives/Anakin Doesn’t Fall:

(Anything on my Vaderdala fic recs list, you need Padme alive for Vaderdala)

Precipice by Shadowsong26

An AU in which Anakin Skywalker does not follow Mace Windu and the others to Palpatine’s office after they leave to arrest the Chancellor. As a result, he doesn’t get that final push over the edge, and doesn’t Fall.

(Padme returns to the Senate with Luke, Anakin to lead the Rebels with Leia. Things get better is the absolute best way to summary this one.)

To These Memories by KatieRoseFun

After Darth Sidious is defeated, everything changes. Some for the better, others not so much. Mostly better though. (Or: Anakin becomes a dad. Rex rehabilitates clone troopers who no longer want to be a part of the army. Ahsoka gets a call from an old friend. And maybe Obi-Wan finds out it’s not just his enemies who don’t stay dead. Basically, everyone gets the happy ending they deserve.)

Pocket Full of Sand Verse by Philthestone

Anakin goes missing, Padme is captured, and this causes Leia Skywalker and Luke Amidala to meet.

Clash of Fates by AliceBDS (In Progress)

Sometimes, the course of life is changed with one decision.

When Ahsoka Tano requests the help of her former master in liberating Mandalore, a twist of destiny sends them to Coruscant to rescue Chancellor Palpatine instead, altering the course of galactic history forever.

When Dead Men Walk by Ellapromachos

Anakin hesitates just a few minutes longer, and the entire galaxy is better for it.

or; Anakin is at the Temple for Order 66, but not as Darth Vader. And when Palpatine comes for him, he plays his cards just a little bit better. He digs his heels in, and prepares for the long con.

My Loyalties Lie by Stranestelle (In Progress)

When Anakin initially rejects Palpatine's offer to 'help' him, the Sith Lord, in a rare moment of hastiness, ships him off to Kamino to have a control chip implanted.

Nobody Needs to Know by Elizaham8957

The twins are born in the middle of the Clone Wars, and Anakin and Padmé try to continue hiding the fact that they're married and now have two children.

Nobody buys it. Like, seriously, nobody.

Hunter by Zinoviev

Leia is offered a chance to escape Bespin when Boba Fett enlists her help to prevent Luke from falling into Vader's clutches. She has plenty of questions, however. Who is this mysterious bounty hunter, and what does he want with her friend?

The Bantha in the Room by Estrangedlestrange

concept: anakin sitting in the council room bouncing baby luke on his knees as he adamantly denies having children or attachments

Time Travel:

Stand the Hazard of the Die by KeelieThompson1

Baby Luke is sent back in time by Obi-Wan to the prequel era. Needless to say, things change.

Just One Wish by LadyVader23

On a trip to Dathomir, Anakin Skywalker finds a spell that will grant him one wish. Anxious to return home, he wishes for a way to end the war. As a result, he ends up accidentally kidnapping his future children...moments after they've escaped Bespin. Luke is quite done dealing with his mess of a father, and Leia is convinced telling the future Darth Vader about the future will only make it worse. Desperate, Anakin calls in the only person they might listen to: Padme Amidala. Too bad Padme has a surprise of her own...

Temper With the Stars by Pipionem

After being pulled through the World between Worlds, Ahsoka finds herself in the final days of the Clone Wars, on a Separatist ship holding the recently kidnapped Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. Saving the galaxy from the horrors to come is a lot to get done in a week, but Ahsoka has lost everything before - this time, she won't let that happen. Of course, that doesn't mean it's going to be easy.

Skywalker Family Fics:

Skywalker Family Values by Ariel_Sojourner

Camp Chippewa is proud to be the Empire’s foremost camp resort for privileged young adults. Located on the picturesque forest moon of Endor, your child will have the opportunity to participate in wholesome outdoor activities and socialize appropriately with their peers. We invite your offspring to join us for the experience of a lifetime and a bright future in service of the greater glory of the Empire.

On opposite sides of the galaxy, on opposite sides of a civil war, Darth Vader and Padme Amidala unwittingly send Luke and Leia to the same camp during school break. Chaos naturally ensues.

Mild AU:

Desideratum by Sithanakin (In Progress)

As a young Initiate in the midst of a childish crush, Padmé had always dreamt of Anakin Skywalker becoming her Master. But she was to turn thirteen too early for that to be possible.

Then, at sixteen, she loses her Master in the battle of Geonosis. In the confusion of all her grief, she does not expect newly-knighted Anakin Skywalker to offer to take her on as his Padawan.

The Wise Thing by Stranestelle

Warning: Very dark, not happy ending.

Padmé Amidala may not be all she seems. Anakin Skywalker wears his heart on his sleeve. People have crushes every day, it’s not the end of the world. Is it?

or, if you will, a sith!Padmé AU

Bonded by Betts

(Okay I’ll out myself slightly with smut but just one on my mostly SFW recs.)

Padmé had always been better at the mental half of the Jedi code—coercion, manipulation, meditation. Anakin had always been better at the physical half—beating shit up with his lightsaber.

Heirs to the Empire by Aldojlc

Alternate Universe. En route to Endor, Luke, Leia, and Han during the events of ROTJ find themselves transported into a different universe and a different Empire, with a different Vader.

Heavy AUs:

(it’s not so bad) being dead like me by Estrangedlestrange

Recently deceased Anakin Skywalker (killed in an taco truck explosion) finds himself not in the after life but recruited as the newest member of the undead, he’s become a grim reaper. He’s told that it’s his destiny but really he thinks it’s just rotten luck. Rotten except for the fact that one of his fellow reapers is Padmé Amidala, the most beautiful woman Anakin’s has seen, dead or alive. As he struggles to come to grips with his death and his new role in the universe, Anakin finds that taking souls isn’t the easiest job out there, he also finds himself falling in love.

Skyborn by Silverdaye

Senator Padmé Amidala enjoys spending her time in a bookstore, one made of real flimsi books where each one costs a small fortune. It is there she meets a strange man, Anakin Skywalker, who is searching for long forgotten planet, Kesh. 4,500 years ago a ship crashed on Kesh. The survivors told the natives they were their gods, the Skyborn. Anakin is one of them.

For Even the Very Wise Cannot See All Ends by UncorrectGrammar

When people think of Anakin Skywalker, they think of the Chosen One, the Hero With No Fear. They think of an accomplished duelist, of the best flyer in Hogwarts, of the prophesized savior of the wizarding world.

They don’t think of gardens diligently kept or dirt under fingernails.

Or: Anakin Skywalker and his legacy. Hogwarts AU.

General Prequel Era (Non Anidala Centric, but still contain Anidala)

Like Fire In Our Bones by AcuteNeurosis

With all of the most important things in the galaxy literally exploding around her, Leia is given the chance to go back and help keep a promise she never personally made.

But then, for Skywalkers, saving the galaxy was always a family matter.

Well It Goes Like This by Corde_and_Dorme

At the end of it all, the thing is: Palpatine breaks his heart.

(or the one where Anakin makes the hard choice, the right choice, the other choice. Then he keeps making it.)

Vode An by Epsiloneridani

There are millions of lives on the line, clone and Jedi alike. Every second brings them one step closer to the chip's activation - one step closer to the endgame. The truth is shrouded in secrecy and clouded by doubt. The clock's ticking down.

It's a race against time.

Fives is gone. Echo finds the courage to ask why.

Bonus: ObiAnidala

For We Are A Woven Thread; Find the Strand by Shadowsong26

The night before Obi-Wan was to leave for Utapau, he and Anakin and Padme agreed that, regardless of the Council's orders, Anakin should go as well. They split up over the course of the battle--and when Order 66 is given, they cannot find one another in the chaos; Padme, on Coruscant, is left with the knowledge that neither of them is coming back.

This story covers the next four years in their lives; how they survived and coped with the loss; how they began to fight back--and how they found their way home.

#Star Wars #Anakin #Padme #Anidala

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oldguardhc · 4 years

Text

Old Guard hc #56

Prompt number: 17 - “Give me a minute or an hour”

Fandom: The Old Guard

Rating: PG-13

Warnings/Tags: joe x nicky, fluff

AN: @flamingbluepanda encouraged me to write a Psych AU for this prompt

Joe cranes his neck to get a better look at the body. The puncture wounds are interesting, each one spaced at least four inches apart, all at differing angles, both in entrance and position meaning whatever killed this man wasn’t just a random attack. If they were closer, Joe would have thought they were bite marks and maybe they are, but the last time he checked, there were no animals in the ocean or on land with a bite-radius that large and teeth spaced that far apart. At least, there’s nothing alive today that has a 34-inch bite-radius.

“You getting something, Mr. Kaysani?” Chief Freeman asks.

Can it be? The bite marks are looking to be more of a match the longer he stares at them. “I’m…getting something,” Joe says, snatching the yellow pad and a pen from Andy and ignoring the small huff of irritation she lets out.

He starts with a brief outline, it’s been a while since he’s drawn one of these and he has to use small strokes to get the head right.

“Wait, I think this is a boating accident,” Andy says, and Joe briefly looks up to see her point at the body. “Head trauma from…from falling off the boat. Hit a motor maybe?”

The eyes are tricky. Should they be looking straight or at the viewer? Joe decides the viewer for a more startling effect.

“The wounds on his back, they were caused by a…by an industrial crab trap. Yes, a crab trap. Or a whale. A lonely whale that got lost from its pod and traveled East, West. Saw our floating guy from below, thought it was a seal and…you know, had a little chomp.”

The teeth are definitely not his best work. The teeth to mouth ratio are way off and they’re definitely not as uniform in real life like he drew them. It’ll have to do for now. He adds a little shading to the drawing, giving it a more realistic appearance.

“A whale?” Booker slowly asks, when it seems like Andy is finally done with her explanation.

“What’s your guy got?” Nicky immediately shoots back, coming to his partner’s defense.

Joe can practically hear Booker’s smug look, “Watch and learn, Genova. Watch and learn.”

“Alright Kaysani, show me what you got,” Chief Freeman says.

Joe blows on paper and holds the pad to his chest, hiding his drawing from a peaking Andy. “First of all, I would like to say that this is not my best work. It’s a very rough sketch, the shading isn’t finished, the torso is a little plump and the teeth are…they’re not completely accurate. If I had more time, I would’ve definitely given them more shape, more individual characteristics. If I had my druthers, I'd have done this in charcoal.” Booker gives him an understanding nod and Joe would high-five him if he was standing right next to him, “You know what I’m talking about! Almost nothing beats a good charcoal drawing-“

“Mr. Kaysani!” Chief Freeman interrupts, crossing her arms and tapping her feet. “The verdict?”

Joe dips his head in apology, “Yes! Look, the key was in the puncture wounds,” Joe says, using his pen to point at said wounds. “They’re very unique puncture wounds. So unique in fact, that I was able to draw a semi-accurate profile of our attacker.” Chief Freeman gives him the look that says ‘Well? Get on with it’ and Joe turns the pad around and smirks at Andy.

Both Andy and Chief Freeman do a double-take and lean forward to get a better look. He resists the urge to flinch. It’s really not his best work and it shows. After a second of intense scrutiny, Chief Freeman shakes her head with a slight scoff and stalks off.

“Chief? Where are you going?” Joe calls out, still holding his drawing up. The culprit is right here! Well, not here here but here on paper. She’s halfway up the beach already and doesn’t even turn around to acknowledge he spoke. Great.

“Nice work, Kaysani,” Andy says, snatching her pen and pad back, a pleased look on her face, and runs to catch up to the Chief.

“A dinosaur?” Booker asks, mouth downturned, fingers working the buttons in his sleeves to roll them back down to a more professional length. No, we were supposed to get fish tacos after this. “Jesus, Joe. You couldn’t have shot for something in the last million years?”

Joe places his hands on his friend’s chest and steps in his way, “Give me a minute, or an hour to prove it was a Tyrannosaurus rex.” Booker shakes his head, the disappointed look doing funny things to Joe’s stomach, pats Joe on the shoulder, and steps around him to leave.

Great, just great. Even his best friend didn’t believe him. Joe rubs his temples, he can feel a faint throb and he hopes that it’s just a regular throb and not a foreshadow for a migraine.

“I thought the drawing was pretty good.”

Joe drops his hand and turns around. Nicky has that faint smile on his lips that Joe’s still trying to figure out if it means he likes Joe or likes likes Joe. He’s already made it obvious on multiple occasions how he feels about Nicky.

With Nicky’s looking at him like that, it’s so easy to smile. “Thanks!” And because no one else is here to witness his humiliation, he makes his smile a little more flirty. “You know, I can always use a live model.”

Nicky cocks an eyebrow at him, the faint smile still there, maybe even a little wider if Joe’s not delusional. “I’m going to go calm Andy.”

“Don’t die, I’d hate to miss your pretty face.” A light blush creeps up Nicky’s neck as he nods and jogs back up the beach.

Joe doesn’t stare at Nicky’s ass. He doesn’t, because that would be rude and Nicky is more than a beautiful body.

It’s a good thing the only witness is a dead body.

Joe turns back to the dead body. “Definitely not a boating accident.”

—

Joe slumps against the growing mound of dirt. He’s exhausted. He feels like he completed an Iron Man and climbed Mount Everest twenty times. Who knew being shot at could be so draining? To make matters worse, the throb from this morning was a foreshadow. His eyeballs are going to explode any second now with how strong his head is pounding. He digs his knuckle into the valley between his eyes until it hurts, it’s a different hurt than the one going on behind his eyes though, that it feels strangely good.

Joe sighs, at least one good thing happened today; he was right about the body. It’s a real shame he doesn’t have ‘Use a 20-year-old Tyrannosaurus rex model built by a 9-year-old Booker to solve a murder case’ on his bingo card. He would’ve been the only one to mark it down.

A bottle of water is placed on his lap and Joe opens his eyes, a ‘thanks, Booker’ on his tongue. Except, it’s not Booker standing above him, it’s Nicky.

Joe musters up the best smile he can despite feeling like death has crawled its way inside him through his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Your head’s been hurting all day,” Nicky says, crouching down, a small frown on his face. He pulls two packets out of his pocket and holds them out to Joe. One’s red and the other’s green. “I didn’t know if it was a regular headache or a migraine, so, I got both.”

Joe stares at the two packets. Nicky bought him medicine. Nicky saw that he was hurting and brought him something to feel better. Joe swallows the lump in his throat, reaches out for the red packet. “Thank you,” Joe says, brushing his fingers with Nicky’s.

The corners of Nicky’s lips tick upwards, “No problem.”

Joe tears the packet open and dumps both pills in his hands before tossing them into his mouth. Nicky has the bottle of water open and held out for him and Joe takes it with a grateful nod. Even though he swallows the pills on the first gulp, he finishes the whole bottle. Only when he’s done, does he remember that Booker might want some too.

“I gave him a bottle too,” Nicky says and that’s a sign, right? That has to be a sign of how amazing they would be together. “The pharmacist said those pills should work in 15 minutes.” Joe nods, he’s intimately familiar with the wonders of Excedrin. He would’ve taken one around lunch if they hadn’t been following another lead at the time.

��Thank you,” Joe repeats, closing his eyes again even though he wants nothing more than to stare into Nicky’s gorgeous blue eyes. He hears and then feels Nicky settle beside him, no doubt getting his suit all dirty, and he’s doing that for Joe.

“Is there anything else I can do?”

Joe shakes his head, “You’ve helped a lot already. We just have to wait now.” Joe resumes his earlier ministrations, digging into that spot that hurt but was a better hurt than the one inside.

Cold fingers slide over his own, “Don’t press too hard, you’ll hurt yourself,” Nicky chides.

Joe grabs Nicky’s wrist and guides those cold fingers until they’re covering his eyes. Relief instantly hits and Joe presses those cold fingers harder against his eyes.

“Should’ve gotten an ice pack,” Nicky mutters to himself.

“S’fine, your hands are working.”

They sit in silence as they wait for the pills to kick in. Every few minutes, Nicky switches hands and Joe doesn’t even have to hold his wrist anymore. He knows how hard to press and it’s nice. It’s really nice. He can almost ignore Booker digging in the background and the occasional splash of dirt that rains down on both of them.

“Never thought my poor circulation would come in handy,” Nicky jokes when the migraine finally subsides.

Joe grins and reaches out to press a kiss to both palms. “They were lovely.”

“Please tell me I’m not going to have to listen to you two flirt the entire night,” Booker calls out from the hole. “I don’t want you two ruining my discovery.”

Excuse me?

“Your discovery?” Joe asks, crawling over the mound to look down at Booker. He’s made an impressive amount of progress. Probably only six more feet before they hit the skull.

Booker stabs the shovel into the dirt, both of his hands coming up to rest on his waist. “I’m digging, so yes, my discovery.”

Joe makes an outraged sound, “I found the right hole!”

“It wasn’t a hole! I’m making it a hole!” To prove his point, Booker picks up the shovel and tosses the next scoop at Joe.

Joe should’ve seen that one coming.

“Alright, I’m going to go home. Have fun digging, boys,” Nicky says and when Joe turns around, he’s brushing dirt off himself. “I’ll see you later?”

Joe nods his head probably a little too enthusiastically, “Definitely. Thank you again for the pills. I’d still be dying if you hadn’t have come back.”

Nicky smiles, the small one, and one day Joe’s going to see if he can get him to grin ear-to-ear, lips stretched so wide his cheeks will hurt. But not today. Today, he’s going to make history by being the first Psychic Paleontologist.

Nicky dips his head again and yeah, Joe hates to see him go but he sure as hell loves to watch him leave.

That ass is definitely better than a charcoal drawing.

A new spray of dirt rains down on him and that’s it.

It’s a shame no one is there to hear Booker’s loud yelp as Joe tackles him to the floor. Oh well, it’ll live rent-free in Joe’s mind forever.

#joe x nicky #the old guard #booker #nile freeman #fictober20 #andromache the scythian #hc

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