#which actually makes sense since Hardy's just going to glare at people when they ask exactly what kind of undead he is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ladyfogg · 3 years

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Heal My Wounds - Part 1

Heal My Wounds - Part 1 of 3

Fic Summary: After you meet the infamous Kit Walker, you realize that he cannot possibly be guilty of everything they say he is. Determined to treat him with kindness and compassion, you end up falling hard for the handsome man with gorgeous dark eyes. But you both are playing a dangerous game and you must decide just how far you’re willing to go to save the man you love. Part 2. AHS Masterlist.

Fic Rating: 18+

Fic Song: War by Poets of the Fall

Pairing: Kit Walker/Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Smut, Slow Burn, tw: mental illness, tw: asylum setting, tw: violence

A/N: I ended up finishing this a lot quicker than I thought I was going to. Enjoy! For @tatestripedsweater and @kitwalker02.

You’ve seen many things during your time at Briarcliff. Being a nurse, you deal with truly awful alignments, either self-inflicted or acquired under “mysterious” circumstances. This usually means that a guard roughed the patient up or Dr. Arden can’t be bothered to treat them himself. You learn to expect the worst, not in the patient but in what they are afflicted with. In truth, your heart goes out to every one of them. Regardless of what sent them to Briarcliff, it is always your mission to treat them with the respect and dignity they deserve.

Which is why, when you hear that the infamous Bloody Face, aka Kit Walker, has been transferred to the asylum, you try not to be concerned. You knew all about Bloody Face and what he’s done and when they arrested Kit, you aren’t ashamed to admit that your first thought was, “Good riddance!” However, you force yourself to change your tune once you learn you’ll be treating him at some point. Plenty of dangerous people had come and gone through Briarcliff’s doors. You aren’t going to treat him any differently than you would the other patients.

No matter how dangerous he is.

It isn’t long before you find yourself face-to-face with him. He is there less than a day before he’s brought in to see you, his lip and his nose a bloody mess, the red a stark contrast to his pale skin. His appearance surprises you even though it shouldn’t. You read the papers; you’ve seen his face. Yet, in person, he’s so handsome it takes your breath away and you need a moment to compose yourself.

“What happened?” you ask Kit as the guard forces him to sit on the bed. He is bound with cuffs and chains, an overkill if you ever saw one.

“He got into a scrape with another inmate,” the guard says in a gruff voice. “Bloody Face here got the worst of it.”

“They’re called patients, not inmates,” you correct him with a glare. “And I wasn’t asking you, I was asking Mr. Walker. That is his name, that's what he will be called while he’s under my care.”

The guard, whose name you think is Hardy, looks taken aback by your words. He is a new one who hasn’t had to deal with you yet. While many of the female staff are nuns, you are not. You are there purely for medical purposes, not religious ones. Therefore, you have no reason to force politeness to the guards. After all, why should you? They never show you any. The sooner Hardy learns you will not tolerate his bullshit, the better.

You have been talked to by Sister Jude several times regarding your attitude but since you are appointed by the state, there is nothing more she can do. Eventually, the both of you came to a mutual understanding. In fact, you suspect she admires your non-nonsense attitude as it most often gets results. If there is a patient in your infirmary, you can call the shots. Of course, the male guards don’t like that, but they can get fucked.

When you turn back at Kit, he has a surprised look on his face.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” you ask.

“Just my face,” he answers. “And my hands.”

You glance down and see his bruises and bloody knuckles. Clearly, he defended himself but given the fact that the other patient hasn’t been brought it, you assume Kit got the worst of it. You go about collecting what you need to disinfect his wounds.

To Hardy, you say, “Remove his chains.”

“No can do. Not for this one.”

“His knuckles are bleeding, and I need to examine his hands to make sure nothing is broken or fractured. Remove his chains.”

There is an intense stare-off between you and the guard before he relents and unbinds Kit. Once his restraints are gone, you wave Hardy off. “You may step outside.”

“Now hold on a minute! This man—”

“Has rights. He deserves the same privacy as every other patient. Besides, I won’t have you getting in my way while I patch him up. You can step outside and wait. I’m more than capable of handling myself.”

Hardy snorts, annoyed and done with arguing. “Fine by me. Don’t complain if you get killed.”

“I won’t, considering if that happens, I won’t be able to. Or are you not aware how death works?”

With a sneer, he stalks away, and you heard him mutter, “Stupid bitch.” under his breath.

“Smart bitch actually,” you call after him. “And shut the door on your way out, please.” It slams behind him and you return your attention to your patient.

Kit looks at you with awe. “Forgive me for saying so, doc. But you’re one tough broad.”

You laugh, pulling a chair over so you can sit in front of Kit. “I’m not a doctor, I’m a nurse. And you have to be though, especially in this place. The gentle don’t last long. Now, let’s take a look at those hands.”

Kit extends his hands, and you take them in your own, examining his wounded knuckles. After moving each finger and his wrists, you determine there was nothing broken or fractured so you set about cleaning the scrapes. Kit watches you the entire time. Even though you don’t look up from your work, you can feel his eyes on you.

“I think you’re the only person in this place who’s not afraid of me,” he says after a stretch of silence. “This is the first time I’ve been treated like a person since this whole thing started.”

“Should I be afraid of you, Mr. Walker?” you glance up and are immediately taken in by the soft expression on his face.

“Call me Kit,” he says. “And I never hurt anybody. All the things they say I did are lies. I have no idea what happened to those girls and I have no idea what happened to Alma other than they took her.”

You consider his words for a moment and pull away, letting his hands fall to his lap. The bloody towel you hold is tossed onto your tray of supplies before you sit back and cross your arms. “Alright then, Kit. Tell me why I should believe you.”

Kit doesn’t seem to know what to say at first. You’ve dealt with numerous patients who swear up and down they didn’t do what they were accused of. Most of them had. Because of that, you are pretty damn good at reading people because even the best liar has a tell. An eye twitch, a knee bounce, a lip bite…anything. You trained yourself to look for these things because, in your line of work, it means the difference between life or death.

The man in front of you doesn’t look like he’s hiding anything. More to the point, you don’t feel scared of him. You aren’t made of stone; you feel fear just like everyone else. You are simply better at masking it. However, that violent vibe you’ve learned to sense doesn’t radiate from Kit and as you look into his deep brown eyes, all you see is fear, frustration, anger, and sadness. They all pass one after another on a loop.

“I don’t have a reason,” Kit finally says after a long pause. “If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t believe me either. But you showed me kindness no one else has and I’m grateful. Really.”

“I think this place wouldn’t be half as bad as those colleagues of mine showed a little kindness too.” You go back to work, cleaning his hands. “This is going to sting a bit.”

Kit flinches as you pour alcohol over his cuts. Carefully, you clean them some more before you are sure they won’t get infected. Once that’s done, you wrap them in bandages.

“There, good as new. Just try to keep those bandages dry for a bit. You can take them off tomorrow to let the cuts breathe. Let me make sure your nose isn't broken.”

Kit remain still as you gently cup his face, turning his head left to right in order to take stock of his injuries. Being so close, you realize how handsome he truly is. That jawline is to die for, and his dark curls looks so soft, you want to run your fingers through them. Once that thought entered your brain, you scold yourself. He is your patient and is in the asylum to see if he is fit to stand trial for murder. Thinking about him in any way other than professional is a dangerous game. And very stupid.

“That bad huh?” Kit asks with a slight smirk.

It isn’t a malicious one by any means. In fact, it’s almost hesitant. Like he is afraid to be so comfortable joking with you. You don’t blame him considering what he has gone through. You offer him a smile in return.

“Just a split lip and it doesn’t look like your nose is broken. It’s not even swollen. There shouldn’t be any permanent damage.”

You grab a fresh towel and dip it in warm water before gingerly cleaning the blood from his face. But before you can get far, Kit reaches up to stop you. Instinctively you freeze, worried that you may have hurt him. Maybe his nose is worse off than you originally thought?

“Did I hurt you?” you ask.

Kit shakes his head. “No, I’m just…” He pauses as if he’s not sure what to say next. “I’m sorry but I just...why aren’t you scared of me?"

“You really want me to be, don’t you?”

“What? No! Of course not. I’m just…” He stops when he sees you holding back a smile. “You’re messing with me.”

You shrug and go back to your work. “A little,” you admit. “But to answer your question, I’m not scared of you because I believe you. I don’t think you killed or even hurt anyone. I just don’t sense that sort of evil in you. As for what you claim to have witnessed, that I don’t know about. But I do know crazy, Kit Walker. And you’re not it.”

It is like the remaining tension leaves his body and Kit slumps against you, a few tears running down his cheeks. Without thinking, you pull him into a tight hug, letting him rest his weary head on your shoulder. The warmth of him is invigorating and you savor the feeling. It’s been a long time since you’ve been touched in any way. Long work hours make your social life non-existent and you carefully keep your distance with your patients.

Except Kit, it seems. You don’t know why your well-constructed walls are crumbling under the weight of one interaction with one man.

“You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” he says, his voice muffled by your uniform. “No one will listen. No one believes…”

“I’m listening. But first, sit back before you get blood all over me.”

With a weak laugh, Kit pulls away. He wipes the tears with the back of his hand which you’re grateful for because you were about two seconds away from gently brushing them away. Pulling yourself together, you continue to clean his face while he tells you his story. It’s definitely strange. The idea of being abducted and probed was one you’d rather not think about.

But you don’t just listen to his words, you watch his expression, pay attention to the tone of his voice and his body language. Even though you’ve heard some of it through the papers, it’s different hearing it from him directly. Once he’s done, you’re even more certain he didn’t kill anyone. No one who talks about their missing wife that softly and heart felt could possibly be a vicious serial killer.

It’s his eyes that give him away. There’s so much emotion and depth, you can’t help but believe him. You wish you can explain it, but some things are beyond explanation.

“You sure I’m not crazy?” Kit asks when you don’t respond to him right away.

“After that story, you’re absolutely batshit.”

He chuckles when he realizes you aren’t serious. You pull your hand away, finally done getting rid of all the blood, but he stops you with a gentle touch to your wrist. “Thank you for listening. I could tell you weren’t judging when I spoke, and I appreciate it. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

“It’s not my place to judge. Only heal.” You sit back, breaking all contact with him, hoping it’ll clear your spinning head. “There. Now you’re just as handsome as you were before. Do me a favor and at least try not to get majorly hurt again for the rest of the day?”

“He started it.”

“Everyone always starts things here. And given your current situation, it’s best to keep your head down as much as possible.”

“What’s the point? They’ve already made up their minds about me being guilty,” Kit says bitterly as you roll your tray over to the sink. He sees a pack of cigarettes on your desk and nods towards them. “Mind if I have one?”

You wave for him to go ahead as you clean up. “I wish I had words of encouragement for you. I wish I could say it will all work out. But unless they catch the real Bloody Face, your choices are either here or the electric chair.”

Kit pops a cigarette in his mouth and lights the end. “I have to see the state-appointed shrink. My last hope is to convince some head doctor that I’m not crazy.”

Your heart goes out to him. His situation really is a double-edged sword. If he proves he isn’t crazy, then they are sure to send him to trial and his death. If he keeps spouting off about strangers abducting him and his wife, then they will keep him at Briarcliff. Either way, he loses. It isn’t fair.

“Stick to your story,” you tell him. “If it’s really the truth and that’s really what you know happened, then stick to it. I mean, it’ll probably get you confined here for life. But at least you’ll be alive.”

“Yeah, but at what cost?”

You don’t get to respond. The door bursts open and Sister Jude strolls in with Hardy right behind her. You wonder how long he waited outside before running to tattle on you.

“Why is this patient not restrained?” she asks in that stern voice of hers.

“I needed to clean his hands and couldn’t very well do that when they were bound,” you say. “He’s all set now.”

“In the future, I would appreciate it if you would leave the door open. No young woman should be alone with this one,” Sister Jude says, motioning to Kit. “Not until he’s been properly medicated.”

“He deserves just as much privacy as any of us do when being medically treated.”

“Not here. Not under my roof,” Sister Jude counters. “I like you, girl, but don’t push me on this. Kit Walker may have the looks of an angel but he’s far from it.”

“She didn’t do nothing wrong,” Kit says angrily.

Sister Jude motions for Hardy to grab Kit. Anger courses through your veins when you see how he is manhandled. “Hey, be careful! I don’t want to have to treat a dislocated shoulder,” you say.

Kit sends you a grateful smile which Sister Jude unfortunately notices. She steps up to him and in a low voice says, “Quit your leering! You don’t fool me, Kit Walker. You can keep spouting that innocent act all you’d like but I know there’s darkness in your soul.”

Kit’s body tenses and you see him clench his fists in anger. The nun yanks his cigarette out of his mouth and puts it out on your desk.

What a bitch.

As he is led away, Kit dares to look back at you and you see the glimmer of another smile before he is gone. The empty room suddenly seems more so without him there. It’s strange how comfortable you feel around him, especially considering the circumstances. After cleaning up the remnants of his cigarette, you sit back at your desk. But focusing is not in the cards for you. The rest of the day, you find yourself constantly sidetracked by the handsome brown-haired man with the deep brown eyes. So much so that you get angry with yourself.

You are hardly ever swayed by just a pretty face. Then again, there’s more to Kit than that. Although, it certainly helps. The way he stood up for you even when he was in trouble spoke volumes about who he is a person. You don’t think there is a selfish bone in that man’s body.

The next day during meds, you don’t see him in the Day Room with the others. It suddenly occurs to you that after the fight the day before, he probably was thrown in solitary. You hate solitary being used for any of your patients but the thought of Kit in a small dark room, bound and alone makes your heart break in your chest. All you can do is hope he’ll be out of there soon.

At least three days pass before you see him again, mostly because you spend most of that time in the infirmary rather than in the common areas. It’s early morning and you are enjoying a rare moment of silence when the door opens, and Kit is led in. He’s bleeding from a cut on his forehead, which has already begun to bruise and swell.

“What happened?” you demand as you leap to your feet.

The guard, a brute named Dixon who you can’t stand, forces Kit onto one of the beds. “He slipped and fell.”

You doubt it. Your eyes slide over to look at Kit, who gives you a subtle shake of his head. “Oh really?” you ask Dixon, narrowing your eyes in distrust. “This seems like a pretty big bump just to happen from a slip.”

“Just treat him so I can get him back with the others,” Dixon orders.

“He hit his head. I’m going to have to keep him here for a few hours to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion.”

“Fine.” Dixon shoves Kit until he was laying on the bed. When he reaches for the restraints, Kit fights back.

“No! Let me go!” Kit struggles against him.

“Those aren’t necessary,” you declare, crossing the room to try to stop Dixon.

But the guard isn’t having any of it. The next thing you know, he pushes you away, hard enough that you trip over your feet and fall right on your ass.

“You son of a bitch!” Kit exclaims. He leaps up and punches Dixon square in the jaw.

What happens next is a flurry of blows and swears as the men fight each other. Knowing this can only end poorly for Kit, you manage to get back up before prying the two apart. “Enough!” you snap. “No fighting in my infirmary!”

Dixon is practically snarling as he wipes blood from the corner of his mouth. “You don’t scare me, Bloody Face. If I had my way, you’d be in the furnace by now.”

Kit makes a move to go at him, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “Mr. Walker, lay down so Dixon can bind you. If you don’t, I know the right injection that’ll make you so tired, you’ll wake up next week.”

Kit’s eyebrows knit together as he looks at you with concern. You throw him a subtle wink. Breathing heavily, he sits back on the bed and allows Dixon to restrain him. Even though it pains you to do so, you help to keep up appearances. But you don’t tighten them as much as you should. Kit’s jaw is clenched as he watches Dixon’s movements, as if he’s waiting for him to attack again.

Once Kit is secured, you reach into your pocket. Unbeknownst to the guards, you carry around a sharpened scalpel for your own protection and the second Dixon lets his guard down, you press it to his neck, making him halt his movements.

“Listen here, you sick fuck,” you growl. “If you ever lay a hand on me again, I’ll shove this so far into your neck you’ll have to take your meals through a tube. Are we clear?”

Dixon sneers and takes a step back. “Whatever you say, woman. Call us when this psycho is ready to go back to his cell. And I’d be careful who you threaten. You wouldn’t want to end up like one of your patients, now would you?”

His threats send a chill down your spine, but you keep your hand steady, the scalpel still pointed at him as he backs away. It’s not until he’s out the door that you cross the room so you can lock it behind him.

“Are you alright?” Kit asks the moment it’s clear the two of you are alone.

You cross the room, pocketing the sharp instrument as you go. “I’m fine, Kit. Don’t worry about me.” As quick as you can, you undo his bindings. “Sorry about this. I fucking hate using bindings, but it was the only way to get Dixon to leave. He’s got a nasty streak in him; I’d stay clear if I were you. Are you okay? What happened to your head?”

“That asshole smashed my face into the wall,” he says as he sits up, rubbing his wrists. “He caught me wandering out of the Day Room.”

“Now why would you go and do a stupid thing like that?” you ask, hands on your hips. “Didn’t I tell you to keep your head down?”

“I just needed some peace and quiet. On my own terms and not in a dark dirty cell. Besides, others wander. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because the others aren’t wanted for murder. They mean to make an example out of you, Kit.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

You sigh and head to the icebox in the corner of the room. As you put together an icepack for him, you say, “These guards will look for any excuse to get rough. And they especially have it out for you. You have to be careful.”

“I hate this. I hate all of it. I feel like I’m going crazy. My head is so cloudy, and I can barely feel anything.”

“Those are the meds. Meant to keep you docile.” You carry the ice pack over to him along with supplies to fix up his head wound. “And suppress other impulses.”

“It’s inhumane, that’s what it is.” Kit barely makes a face as you clean the cut and dress it. “How am I supposed to defend myself if I don’t even feel like me? I think I’m slipping, doc.”

“I told you, I’m not a doctor.”

“Well, what should I call you then? You never gave me your name.”

You tell him your name and press the icepack to the bump on his head, “Here, hold this. Your nose is bleeding…again.”

Kit does as he’s told. After a moment, he says your name. It’s soft and beautiful coming from his lips and you can barely focus long enough to hear his question. “Can I confess something to you?”

“I’m no priest or nun.” You start to dab at his nose with a damp towel.

“It’s not that kind of confession. I wasn’t just wandering for the sake of wandering. I was trying to come see you.”

You pause, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes flickering up to meet his. “Why?”

“I feel safe here.”

You go back to your work. “I’m glad you do, but I don’t want you to get yourself hurt just to see me.”

“I didn’t know that asshole was gonna beat the shit out of me just for wandering.”

“Say you have cramps.”

Kit raises his eyebrow. “What?”

“If you want to see me…I mean, come to the infirmary, tell a guard or one of my assistants that you have cramps or a stomachache. It’s something most people don’t question since stomach stuff is really common, ‘specially around here. It usually comes with vomiting or diarrhea and no one wants to deal with that.”

Kit smiles. “Good to know.”

You finish cleaning him up and add, “But don’t overuse the excuse. Otherwise, if something is really bothering you, they won’t listen.”

“Understood. Do you really think I have a concussion?”

“No. Your eyes are clear and you’re not slurring your words. I figured it would at least give you a little reprieve from everything out there.”

Kit’s smile widens. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Although, I will have to at least keep your feet bound. That way if the guard comes back, I can quickly bind your hands before they enter. The lock will only temporarily slow them down since they have keys.”

“Hey, if it means spending time here with you instead of out there with everyone else who thinks I’m a vicious murderer, I’ll take it.”

Once you have him settled in the bed, you give him a cigarette before going about your daily routine. It is nice having Kit there. Occasionally, you talk as he smokes, but for the most part, the both of you enjoy each other’s company. He asks you about yourself, minor things, nothing too personal or probing, which you appreciate. You feel like he’s also trying to keep some distance between you, understanding your position and what a friendship with him could mean.

A few hours later, when you hear footsteps coming your way, you quickly bind Kit’s hands.

It takes a second for the door to be unlocked but then it opens and Dixon enters just as you’re pretending to check Kit’s bandages. “Walker here needs to see the shrink,” he says gruffly, crossing the room towards you.

“I was just about to call you.” Your lie is so effortless it even impresses you. “He doesn’t have a concussion. You can take him.”

Dixon is rough as he unbinds Kit and yanks him off the bed. To his credit, Kit doesn’t fight back or resist, understanding the stupid rules he needs to follow if he’s going to get anywhere in this place. Once he’s gone, you start to wrap up for the day, finishing any last minute tasks before getting ready to go home. As you’re straightening up your desk, your eyes catch the medication logbook, and an idea strikes you.

Sitting down, you flip through the pages, taking a look at the medications that are prescribed to each patient. At the bottom of the list is Kit’s name and, with a quick flick of your pencil, you manage to subtly cut his doses in half. It’s not much. You wish you can outright stop giving him the meds but that’s impossible. Hopefully, this way he’ll start to feel like himself.

You expect to be worried or guilty for what you’ve done. But honestly, you don’t. It feels right. Far too many patients have lost themselves in Briarcliff and you’re determined not to let Kit be one of them.

---

Kit’s world is not even recognizable anymore. One day he’s home with his beautiful wife, the next, she’s gone, and the police are accusing him of murder. He sees those damn creatures every time he closes his eyes, hears that loud noise echoing in his ears. If it’s not that he’s hearing, it’s the screams of the other patients.

When he saw you for the first time, heard you snap at the guard for mistreating him, he thought he was still dreaming. You have to be a dream. Nothing that good or sweet can possibly exist in this place. The way you look at him makes him feel seen for the first time in months.

He can’t get you out of his mind. After that initial visit, all he could think about was your warm embrace and the concern in your eyes.

To have someone care enough to worry about him meant everything. Especially during such a dark time. Trying to sneak away to see you had been a stupid idea but one he thought was worth the risk. He needed to know if he would have the same feelings each time, the same security and comfort. Do you really believe him or are you just a great actress?

The second time, you’re just as kind and generous as the first, and Kit knows that he is in trouble. A different kind of trouble than he already is in. This one is emotionally based and has the potential to end very badly.

Kit knew himself well enough to recognize the signs that he is falling for someone. You have only known each other a short while but already he can’t get you out of his mind.

The day following his first appointment with Dr. Thredson, he sees you in the Day Room and has to stop himself from immediately going over. It’s clear you’re busy, making the rounds and checking in on the other patients. Kit watches from a distance, smoking a cigarette as he leans against the back wall. Your kindness extends to everyone you come in contact with. He watches with admiration as you sit patiently with Pepper, checking on the small scrapes and abrasions she has.

You smile and his breath gets caught in his throat. Fuck you’re gorgeous.

Curiously, Kit watches as you slip something into Pepper’s hands before moving on to someone else. It turns out to be a small chocolate, which Pepper immediately devours before going back to her book. Kit smiles.

You catch each other’s eyes across the room just then. It’s a charged moment, like nothing in the world matters but the two of you. He makes a move to walk towards you, unable to help himself anymore. But then meds are called, and the moment is lost. Kit stubs out his cigarette and gets behind Lana as everyone lines up for their medications.

“This is bullshit,” Lana mutters under her breath. “Not all of us need medication. I don’t like that they force it on us. Makes my head all foggy.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Kit asks, echoing your sentiment from the day before. “Keep us under control.”

“I have a point. One I’d like to shove right up their asses.”

Kit snorts at Lana’s blunt phrasing. At first, she had been weary of him but now the two have developed a mutual understanding. Neither one of them belongs there and it’s better to support each other than fight. The line moves and Kit watches you join your assistant to make the medication process go faster.

When it’s his turn, you hand him his cup and briefly, his hands touches yours. It’s like a bolt of electricity shoots through your fingertips and into his, coursing through his veins at such a speed it makes his head spin. On the outside however, he remains calm, bringing the cup up to his lips to knock back his meds. Except, he notices they look slightly different than the days before. His eyes briefly dart to yours and there’s a subtle change in your expression. Your eye closes just enough to seem like a wink without fully being one.

Kit downs the meds with less hesitation than before.

Sadly, he can’t talk to you after that. Once meds are distributed, you go back to the infirmary and he’s left alone once more. Briefly he considers faking a stomachache to see you again, but your warning is still ringing in his ears. The fact that you offered him the excuse was risky on your part. He doesn’t want to get you in trouble by overstaying his welcome in the infirmary. Even though he is curious about the medication change, he lets it go.

It’s not until he’s in his room that night that he realizes he’s feeling clear-headed. Usually, once lights out comes around, the meds have him so loopy he rolls over and goes to sleep. Or at least tries. This time, however, he feels more like himself. Of course, that also means he’s more aware of the dark and the loud screams, but once they subside, he’s left with silence and his own thoughts.

She must have lowered my meds or something. She’s fucking amazing.

Kit smiles, curling onto his side as he allows himself to think about you without worry or fear. Again and again your meetings replay in his mind and when he closes his eyes, he can almost smell the scent of your laundry detergent and perfume. The way your soft hands gently held his made him flex his fingers instinctively. Those lips of yours…he’d given anything to kiss them.

Kit’s eyes fly open when he feels his cock swell. It’s been so long since he’s felt any kind of sexual desire even before being medication. It’s a wonderful change of pace, however now he has a slight problem. Kit feels ashamed of himself for thinking of you sexually. All you’ve done is show him kindness and he’s thinking about doing all sorts of things to you. With a frustrated sigh, he rolls onto his stomach and tries to ignore it.

This turns out to be a bad idea. The pressure of his body against the hard mattress causes wonderful friction and Kit finds himself pressing his hips down for some semblance of relief.

Fuck it, he thinks, shoving his hand in his pants. I need this right now. I need her.

It’s been a long time since he’s done this himself. It takes a second to find the right angle and rhythm. He stays on his stomach, arching his back just enough to give his hand room as he jerks himself off. Burying his face in his pillow, he bites down to stifle his moans as he pictures you in your nurse’s uniform. The way it hugs your frame suddenly assaults his vision. When you had leaned over him to check his head, he had caught just the barest hint of cleavage. Then, he had purposefully closed his eyes to be respectful.

Now, it’s all he focuses on, thinking about how he’d love to run his tongue across your salty flesh while his hands cupped your tits. He’d bury his nose in your skin and inhale your scent before kissing and sucking every bit of you he could reach.

Would you moan his name? He bets you would, and he bets it would sound fucking fantastic.

Kit grips himself tighter, speeding up his movements as he keeps the fantasy going in his mind. Suddenly, the angle is too constricting, and he rolls onto his back, biting his bottom lip as he hand brings him closer to coming.

He pictures it being your hand. Pictures him laying in that hospital bed, you leaning over him and jerking him off as you watch his face. He thinks of you telling him to come for you and as soon as that thought crosses his mind, he explodes, coming all over his own hand as he quietly moans your name.

Sweating and panting, Kit lays there in his bed, heart racing and head spinning. He uses his blanket to clean himself up, tossing it onto the floor before curling into a ball. He expects the shame or guilt to hit him any moment, but he can’t find it in himself to feel either. All he feels is aching in his heart for the real thing.

The next morning, when they open the cells, he remains in bed. Once he hears the guard come closer, Kit begins to moan in agony, clutching his stomach.

Thankfully, Hardy is the one who check on him. Ever since you told him off, he’s been mostly tolerable to Kit. At least to his face.

“What’s wrong?” the guard asks.

“My stomach,” Kit moans. “I think…I think I ate something bad.” When Hardy kicks Kit’s soiled blanket aside, he adds, “Wouldn’t touch that if I were you. I felt real sick last night.”

Hardy wrinkles his nose and gestures for Kit to get up. “Come on. I’m taking you to the nurse.”

Laying on the theatrics, Kit forces himself up, still hunched over with his arms wrapped around his stomach.

You’re sitting at your desk when he enters. The morning light is filtering in through the barred windows and it catches you ever so slightly. Enough to almost make Kit forget he’s supposed to be in great pain. When you see him, your face grows concerned.

“This one is moaning about a stomachache,” Hardy says. “Where do you want him?”

To his dismay, Kit notices you’re not alone today. There’s a patient asleep in one of the other beds. You’re out of your chair in a second, pressing one of those soft hands to his forehead.

“He’s burning up.” Your ability to lie so smoothly makes Kit admire you even more. “Here, let’s get him on this bed right here.”

Hardy and you help Kit onto one of the beds in the corner of the room, one that’s hidden behind a divider. “I’ll keep an eye on him,” you say, tucking Kit in. “It’s probably just food poisoning. I’ve told the cook a million times they need to store the food better.”

“Think he needs to be tied down?” Hardy asks.

“No, of course not. Have you ever dealt with a patient who’s tied down and soiling themselves? My job is hard enough as it is. I won’t be dealing with that today.”

Kit makes retching noises if for no other reason than to see Hardy grow pale and uncomfortable.

“Oh, you better go before he starts up,” you urge, shooing the guard away.

Kit keeps up the act until he hears the door close and you turn to him, giving him a wide smile. “Wow, bravo. Great work, Kit.”

He smiles, sitting up. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll have a shot as an actor when this is all over.”

You chuckle and glance over at your other patient to make sure he’s still sleeping before sitting on the chair by Kit’s bed. “How are you really feeling this morning?”

“Better, actually. Do I have you to thank for that?”

“Well…it did seem overkill to have you on such high doses of medication when you aren’t mentally unstable. I’m sorry I couldn’t take you off them completely.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Kit says, reaching out to lay his hand over yours. “If anything, I’m sorry for you having to take that risk. I don’t want you to get in trouble, or worse, because of me.”

You look down at his hand and he immediately draws it back, worrying he may have crossed a line. There’s something in your expression that puts him on edge. He can see that you’re struggling, which only makes him feel worse. He berates himself for foolishly giving into his desires. Already things are tough, and the future is scarily uncertain. He’s on the hook for murder for fuck’s sake.

Before Kit can continue the self-deprecating spiral, you surprise him by carefully getting out of your seat and sitting next to him on the bed.

“Kit…” you say. “This friendship between us…I don’t know if it can continue.”

Kit’s heart sinks and he looks away from you, his gaze now fixated on the floor. “I don’t blame you,” he says. “It’s not safe being near me in any way. Honestly, it was stupid of me to come here like that. As much as I like spending time with you, I never want to put you in a compromising position. I’ve seen these guards and I know how they treat women. You’re in just as much danger here as I am.”

Your hand takes his, and he snaps his head up to look at you.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” you say. For the first time since you met a few days ago, he hears the slightest crack in your voice. “I’m worried because, if we continue this friendship, I know that for me, one day, it might not be enough.”

His heart speeds up at your confession. Kit can’t believe his ears. The fact that you are feeling even the slightest bit of the attraction to him that he’s been feeling for you is enough to give him the sliver of hope that’s been severely lacking over the last few weeks.

Kit hesitantly links his fingers with yours, giving you every chance to pull away. You don’t. When he says your name, his throat is dry, and he has to clear it before he can go on. “I have no right liking you as much as I do. I don’t believe in God, but I can’t help but think that you’re my damn guardian angel. Because of you, I’m actually starting to think that maybe there’s a way out of this. Or at the very least, staying here won’t be so bad so long as you’re here.”

Your gaze softens and you look away, trying to hide the tear leaking out of the corner of your eye. With his free hand, Kit reaches up to wipe it away with his thumb. He can’t stop himself from cupping your cheek, needing to feel the warmth and softness against his palm. You shut your eyes, leaning into his touch, a shaky exhale escaping through your parted lips.

Your lips.

Kit’s eyes can’t look anywhere else. They look so inviting. He bets they’re just as soft as the rest of you, maybe even more so. Without even stopping to think what he’s doing, he starts to lean in, so slowly that you don’t seem to notice until you open your eyes to meet his. You pull your head back. Not abruptly or angrily, but enough where he gets the message to stop. Kit sighs with disappointment at the refusal. But a second later, you’re leaning in this time, at the same achingly slow pace he had been before.

Your lips brush and there’s a heated charge that soars between you, making you pause before you even properly get a kiss. Your eyes are wide as they meet his, searching for the same thing he’s looking for in yours: permission, acceptance, desire.

Kit closes the distance.

With one hand still cradling your face, he kisses you deeply, drawing your body as close to his as he dares. He feels you melt under his touch and it urges him to keep going, to keep kissing you, to deepen the kiss so he can savor the intense waves of desire washing over him.

You let him, opening your mouth so that his tongue can glide along yours.

It all becomes too intense for the both of you and you have to break the kiss, panting as your foreheads rest against one another’s.

“This is such a bad idea,” you say, the breathlessness of your voice making Kit’s cock twitch. “We have to be smart and we have to be careful. If we really can’t stay apart, then you have to listen to what I say and follow my instructions. Okay?”

“I can do that,” Kit says. He’d honestly agree to anything you say at that point. “Trust me, baby. I know the stakes.”

“Me too.” You take a deep breath and pull away, breaking all contact with him. It immediately leaves him cold and wanting more. “My assistants will be coming to collect the meds any moment. I need to go prepare.”

You reach out to cup his cheek and Kit holds your wrist, keeping your hand there for another moment so he could savor the contact. The way your eyes soften at him only makes him want to kiss you again. Instead, he settles for a peck on your palm before letting you fully pull away.

As you stand and collect yourself, you take a step towards the divider before you pause and look back at him. “No one can know, Kit. Not if you want to stay under my care. If anyone finds out there’s something between us, they’ll transfer me somewhere else and I won’t be able to protect you.”

The fact that you’re scared for him in this scenario and not yourself makes Kit want to throw you on the bed and ravish you. “I promise, I will find a way to clear my name,” he says. “Then once I’m out of here, I’ll take you away. Far away where this place can’t reach us.”

You smile and reach out to stroke his cheek again. “Easy there, Mr. Walker,” you tease, stroking his bottom lip with your thumb. “Keep talking like that and I may think you’re already falling for me.”

He watches you walk away, only one thought on his mind. Too late for that.

#kit walker #evan peters #ahs asylum #kit walker x reader #kit walker x you

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xladyxfatex · 4 years

Text

Chapter Seventeen (FMITN BOOK 1)

The rest of the week Jessica is made to take someone with her to the gym, just to ensure she doesn’t pull another stunt like the last time. Though understanding she really wishes her brothers would understand they can’t stop her once they all part in just a weeks time. The last week is spent finishing packing, gathering school supplies, and of course stocking for the road trip to Florida itself. It is over 669 miles, and should only take about 10 hours by highway, but somehow Jess just knows her brothers won’t keep to the route. So snacks and drinks were a must, and whatever wasn’t used on the trip down could easily be split and she could keep her part in her dorm room. She really wasn’t looking forward to who’d be sharing with. New people kinda freaked her out, though she swore to herself she’d try to be more. Saturday morning rolls round and the early part of the day is spent loading boxes into the back of the moving truck. Looking around Jess fiddles with her necklace as she wishes her home goodbye. She knows she’ll be back for breaks...well if her brothers have time off and she can be with them she will be otherwise she’ll just stay at her dorm. No sense in going ten plus hours home just to be as alone as she’d be in the dorm, that’s just a waste of time and gas. She giggles at the silly thought before a tear slips down her cheek. Once everything was in the truck, Matt, Jeff, Finn, and Jessica all get in. Thank the Moon Goddess the cab was large enough, otherwise this would have been an awkward ride.

Once settled the drive starts, The brothers decided that about half way there they’d stop for the night. They’d be stopping somewhere in Georgia, which the possibility to explore which really excited Jessica. Having never really even been outside of her hometown this was all new to her and she was really looking forward to it. Though she’d have to admit she was anxious about being left in Florida alone. The first seven hours, because of course Matt and Jeff fought over music and missed several turns, was filled with fighting over music, talks of how things were changing for the best, and how proud everyone was of each other. Finally arriving in a town called Savannah in Georgia. After getting 2 rooms for the night, the brothers and Jessica start to walk around.

Admiring the historical district, and walking through the Victorian one as well, they finally find a small cafe to stop at and have dinner. They continue to talk about the upcoming changes, for some reason Jessica suddenly picks up on a smell, and her inner wolf whimpers. Looking for the source of the smell she spots a man, tall, short hair, tan, tribal tattoo on his arm and blue eyes. The smell of ink and mint starts to make Jess shake, and without explanation she jumps up and runs out of the resturant much to her wolf’s protest, she takes off the way she and her brothers traveled in hopes that the smell will leave her. She recalls it from her childhood and the last thing she wants right now is to find her “mate” right when she’s about to move on to college. Stopping at a nearby park she found she leans against a tree catching her breath. No longer smelling ink and mint, she shakes her head.

Jeff, Matt and Finn are still staring at the seat Jessica once sat in trying to figure out what just happened. She’d never reacted in such away, never mind running like her life depended on it. Jeff and Matt pick up on the smell of ink and they’ve only ever come across two with that smell, Randy and Alesiter. Looking around they don’t see anyone who could resemble Alesiter, but the smell of ink they find it, as he comes to the table. Smirking at the seat Jess had abandon he looks at the brothers, and Finn stands, unsure really what was going on, but knowing that he needed to find the girl he thought of as his sister.

“Jeff, Matt, I’m going to go look for her. I think I have an idea where she might have gone. I’ll get her back to the room safe.” Finn glares at the stranger before leaving. Jeff shakes his head and Matt sighs.

“Been a long time Orton, can we help you?” Jeff asks a little pissed off that what time he has left with his sister has now been interrupted. Randy chuckles.

“Calm down alpha Hardy, I was just passing through with WWE, we have a show here in Georgia tonight. As I was walking, I smelled something I hadn’t smelled since I was a child. Citrus and Candied Ginger, I simply followed it here. Jessica sure has grown into a beautiful woman how old is she now?” Jeff grits his teeth, he knows he can’t prevent true mates from being together, is an unwritten rule should any werewolf actually find a true mate.But the timing just like before is all wrong.

“She’s 16 going on 17 this Halloween and starting college this week. We stopped here for the night before we continue on our way in the morning, and we start in WWE.” It was true the three of them knew for a fact that WWE was in the area and would be in Florida the next two days after tonight’s house show. It was why they weren’t rushed about getting to the meeting with the higher ups. It played out into their plans better than anything else. Randy took an interest in Jessica starting college at 16, that was on the young side after all. But he wouldn’t lie she had grown into such a beautiful woman.

“16 and starting college? How is that possible?” Randy cocked his head to the side and this time Matt answered as calmly as possible.

“Jess proved at a young age to be intelligent. By all means she could have actually been starting college at the age of 12, but she chose to be in the same grade as Jeff. She graduated this year valedictorian, with a full scholarship to the college she’s attending.” Jeff nodded and Randy looked at the pair with slight shock and amusement. He knew they were purposefully not saying which college she was going to. Not that he could find and claim her, Not now anyways not with his training schedule and work. But one of these days he’d find her again.

“It's good to know she’s so smart, must be why she ran, she didn’t want to ruin her chance at higher education by being claimed.” Randy smugly spoke as he turned to leave. “But know this Hardys’ I will claim her one day. She is rightfully my true mate.” With that Randy left. Matt and Jeff got the food to go, paid and went back to the hotel in hopes that Finn had found Jess.

Meanwhile Finn had run back the way they came, he had remembered passing a park that Jess mentioned wanting to go to when they’d be on their way back from dinner. Sure enough that's where he spotted her, sitting on the ground leaning against a tree trunk. Carefully walking towards Jess, she snapped her head up and sighed when she saw Finn. Whispering she spoke.

“I’m sorry about that. I’m just ...I'm not ready for my mate to claim me and I ran. I just want to live my life and be happy, I want to be able to go to college and be somewhat normal. I know I’ll never be, being what I am, but I can try for the next four years can’t I?” She took a shaky breath and looked up and the man she considered her brother. He smiled down at her and reached his hand out for her to take.

“Of course you can! But instead of being normal, how about we go dye your hair? I happened to bring some dyes, I wanted to surprise you with it back at the hotel room, but I think you need this now more than anything. If you want we can wait for Jeff to get back and he can help too.” Finn suggested and Jessica smiled. The truth was of the last year or so when ever she wanted to dye her hair, Jeff and Finn fought over which one would be the one to do it.She nodded her head, took Finn’s hand and the two left and headed back to the hotel. It was about another 45 minutes till the boys showed up, but they came baring take away containers. Looking around at the setup Jeff glared at Finn.

“Oh no, oh hell no! If anyone is doing Jessie’s hair I am! Come on, you’ve done her hair the last few times she wanted to change it.” Jeff practically whined and everyone choked on their laughter. Even though he was the alpha he still would whine to try and get his way. Jess stood up and hugged her big brother.

"Jeff, why don't you both do my hair? We have to bleach it out first, then we can put the Raven Black on top and the High Voltage Blue on the bottom layer. What do you say?" Jess smiled up at her pouting brother and he sighed in defeat. He barely could say no to that face.

"Fine but let's eat first. I'm starving." Everyone nodded in agreement to that. They began talking again avoiding bringing up Randy. That was till Jessica asked a rather intriguing question.

"Is it possible to have two romantic soulmates? I know and understand that he is my mate, at least according to our wolves, but ...Aleister, everything in my body pulls me to find him and be with him again. I love him still and hurts so fuckin much that he just abandoned me." Jess pushed her fries around and sighed. Honestly other than stating she missed him this was her first time talking about her true feelings. She'd be lying if she said she didn't feel the same for Randy, deep down she did, but at the same time she didn't have a connection or bond with him the way she use to have one with Alestier.

With no one noticing Finn shifted into his demon form. He had heard the conversation of course but being the literal oldest in the room he also had answers to the little game's question. When his demonic voice rang out everyone turned to look at him. Matt and Jeff were unaffected Jess on the other hand kind of freaked out. Yes she accepted that Demon King Balor was apart of her "brother" Finn, but she'd never come face to face with him. His black and red skin, tendrils for hair and his long sharp pointed razor like teeth that hung from his slightly stretched jaw, they scared her. And to be honest she had no freakin idea WHY he suddenly decided to make himself known.

"Jessica, you asked about the possibility of two romantic soulmates, did you not?" Balor tilted his head to the side studying the hybrid. She simply nodded not trusting her voice. "I may not be thousands of years old, but I do know the history of all of our kinds. The two whom came before you, were not only intelligent beyond their time, and greatly gifted magical, but they too were the purest white in their wolf forms." Jeff, Matt, and Jess looked at the demon as he spoke, each nodding to show they were listening. "Listen here little gem, it is beyond possible that both these men you speak of are your true mates. Aleister Black his family bloodline is known for being pure magic, it's highly likely with the abilities you possess with magic though left unrefined he is your the soulmate to your witches half. And this Randy Orton, well if both your wolves agree and know the other to be their true mate there is no denying that. You will be the key to bringing peace to the unity when it is time. You are far from ready for that task yet. You are very important to the supernatural realm Jessica. I can't say more at this time. Just know there is a reason many seek to want to protect you naturally and will flock to you." Balor hugged his little gem and placed a careful kiss to her hairline. Before whispering "Never let anyone change you. Remain the good, kind, caring soul you are." And with that Balor was gone and Finn asleep on the floor.

Jessica stared blankly at the wall in front of her. The Demon King had given a lot of information and she, well she needed to digest all that was said. She grabs her watch, the bleach and emotionless walks into the bathroom locking the door. Staring at herself in the mirror she doesn't know, remove her shirt she mixes the bleach contents together and applies it all throughout her waist length hair. She sets a timer on her watch. Too far in her own mind she barely hears her brothers yelling for her through the door. Suddenly brought back by the sound of the alarm she gets up and washes the bleach from here hair before using the hotel blow dryer to dry it. Putting her shirt back on she walks out of the bathroom and into Matt's arms.

Finn has yet to awake and since Jess wasn't talking, Jeff decided to finish dying her hair while trying to talk to her. He could actually smell the fear and uncertainty flowing from his sister's body.

"Yaknow Jessie these are really nice colors you picked. I think they'll look really good on you." Jeff smiled as he applied the Raven Black to the top portion of her hair careful not to get any on the under side. Jessica spoke but it was so faint that even his werewolf hearing almost missed.

"Thanks I had told Finn awhile ago I wanted to do these colors next." She tried not to shift her head. Once the black was completed, Jeff pinned it up with a hair clip, changed his gloves and began the next color.

"Where did you even find High Voltage Blue dye? I've never seen it around before." Jess hummed and tapped her chin thinking. Though she didn’t answer, a wave of sickness began to hit her.

“Jeffy, I think the smell of the dye is making me sick. I’m not feeling well.” Jessica whined, and Matt touched her forehead, she was feeling warm and then almost like being hit by a freight train, Matt’s eyes widen. Swallowing harshly Matt spoke.

“Let Jeff finish putting the dye in your hair, then I want you to go take a very cold shower. You were suppose to have the room to yourself, but Jeff, I think it’s best you stay here with her tonight.” Matt looked Jeff in the eyes practically begging him to agree. Smells were faint in the room even to the Alpha but he nodded in argument and she quickly finished adding the colors. Matt went to Jessica’s overnight bag, and grabbed what she had packed for sleepwear, sighing he knew what she had was not going to be comfortable for her. Looking at Jeff then Finn who was finally coming too, he spoke.

“Guys, could you come to our room for a minute? Jeff you need your sleepwear and we need to talk about something.” The eldest Hardy shifted uncomfortably, neither of them had ever given thought to this happening, and they were hardly ever around and since she had never gotten sick or presented they never thought to get her on suppressants, this was going to end up being the biggest mistake the two brothers could have ever made. Jessica looked at all three of her brothers and nodded. Once they left the room and went next door Matt ran his fingers through his hair trying to think of how to explain what was happening to Jessie. This wasn’t a conversations brothers should ever have to have about their little sister, but they were all she had. Once everyone was in the room Matt paced slightly his beta wolf calm over the situation thankfully. Jeff snapped though growling.

“The fuck is happening to Jess, what the fuck was that smell?!” Matt huffed up, maybe having the alpha stay and protect her was a mistake?

“So Jeff, you remember when you had your first rut? The pain, the fever, the arousal? However thing was just fucked up till it passed almost two weeks later? And how from that point on you had to be secluded like most unmated alpha’s till it passed?” Alpha’s typically faced ruts every three months, as a Beta Matt only faced it twice a year, but and Omega, well from what was taught in school it could be as often as an Alpha's rut, and if they were near a suitable mate it was to said to be worse, the fact that Jess very possibly has two soulmates an ran into one today is what Matt guessed brought it on, even if they weren’t near each other that long. Jeff huffed.

“Yeah that rut was shit, and so are the ones that came after wha-” Jeff stopped mid-sentence eyes widened. “Are you fucking sayin she’s … no, no NO!” Jeff paced this was their little one, no way in hell was she entering her first heat, he refused to believe it. Finn meanwhile was listening to Balor in his head explain everything that was actually being said, though he had taken the same classes in school that didn’t mean he bothered to remember it as important infomation, well now he wished he had, having a demon, let alone the Demon King explain in your head the sex cycles of werewolves was not pleasent. Finn cleared his throat.

“So we need to get her some kind of medicine so that next time this happens she won’t be affected or something? Why wasn’t she already on the suppressants?” It was an honest question, Finn had noticed Matt staring out the window almost as if on garud. Jeff gritted his teeth.

“Honestly we never thought about it. Yeah we knew but that's our flesh and blood, our little sister, we didn’t want to think about her like that.” Sighing, Jeff had really wished he made her go for those, the smell was overwhelming and an unmarked Alpha who happened to be nearby was bound to come flocking to it, which only caused Jeff to get more angry. Without moving his gaze Matt spoke up.

“We need to get her through tonight, someone HAS to stay with her as protection from anyone whom might try to get to her. I thought at first the best idea would be for Jeff to do it, but I’m beginning to wonder if his Alpha is really best. As a Beta I can be calmer around her, and Finn being a demon shouldn’t have any issue either. However with that said, one of us will need to trade pajamas with her. She has sweats and a heavy top, even with the air conditioner blasting tonight, according to what we’ve learned she’ll sweat through her clothes and end up stripping. This is her first heat, and it's just barely starting, IF we’re lucky and we leave early in the morning, we should be able to get her to AMU before her heat is full blown.” Jeff scuffs.

“The hell is the college going to do for her?” A look of realization hits Finn.

“They’re known for being most supernatural creatures and beings! One of you should call the school, speak with the nurse or doctor on staff, explain what’s happening, they’ll be able to assist Jess the moment she gets there, and then once her heat passes they can get her setup on the suppressants! Is that what you were thinking Matt?” Finn smiles when Matt nods.

“It’s true they’ll be able to help her. I’ll make the call since Jeff..” Matt trails off looking at his brother, yeah he won’t be able to handle this on so many levels. “..Jeff can’t handle this, you’ll stay in this room, Finn, you go and watch over Jessie tonight. If you have to bring Balor out, or scream for us we’ll come running.” Matt grabs the phone and places the call to the school, he explains everything and the doctor on the line somehow already was aware of the lack of a suppressant in Jessie’s system, but wasn’t judging given the fact she was younger than most students that attend the school, and this after all was her first heat. Finn grabs his bags and heads back to Jessica’s room.

#jeff hardy #matt hardy #the hardy boyz #FMITN #original characters #wwe #wwe superstars #supernatural au #magical #finn balor #witches #werewolves

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obliviatemick · 5 years

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Ben Hardy Fanfiction | When I Kissed You p. 5

Chapter five: The confession/The call.

Chapter’s song: Dancing Queen - ABBA

Word count: 2314 words.

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therealbarbxx Finally back in LA and about to get some pizza!! 🍕🔥 hmu

colesprouse isn't that top too tight already?

therealbarbxx @colesprouse you know what else is tight? my fist, bitch! I'mma cut yo ass 🔪

lilireinhart Can't wait to catch up, gorgeous!!! 🔥🔥🔥 (Liked by elliebamber_)

joekeery wow, such an elegant lamp!

therealbarbxx @joekeery interior design is my passion hmu!!!

Narrator's POV

A month had passed and Barbara had settled in her normal life again; two weeks after her trip to New York, she received a call back. The casting crew wanted to see more of her, so they asked for a self-tape which she filmed and sent out the same day. Now it was about waiting and hoping she actually got the role.

Barbara's POV

It was Lili.

"Hi, Barbs!!", she kissed my cheek before entering my apartment. "How's it going?"

"Good! I was about to take a bath when you called", I glanced to the empty corridor. "Where's Cole?"

"Ummm, he's away for a few weeks. Life's hectic with all the photoshoots and trips...", she went to the fridge and grabbed a water bottle.

"I heard he was in... what was it? Lychee?", she spat the gulp of water she'd taken, I screamed like a drag queen as I dodge it. Her face was wet and contorted in laughter and I couldn't help but cackle at the sight.

"Liechtenstein!", she managed to say when the laughter was fading away. I grabbed some paper towels and started cleaning the table "I-I'm sorry, Barbs!", she was still trying not to laugh.

I brushed it off with a shrug, "Meh, but to be honest you're welcomed to shoot water from your nose whenever you want. It was hilarious!"

She chuckled, "That's why I love you, you make me laugh when I feel like crap..."

"Aww, it must be hard being by yourself in that huge house", I muttered holding her hand in mind. She stared at me pouting and with puppy eyes, I hated seeing her like that. And then it occurred to me!

"Lils, I'll tell you what..."

⭐

An hour later, my whole squad was at my place (except for Cole, obvs) and they had invited their own friends who had invited even more people! Music blasted the speakers, people danced in the living room and my kitchen was overflowing with snacks and bottles; I gawked at the sight of my house being invaded like that. There were about 20 people in my small living room, I checked out the window and there were other 20 hanging out in the corridor.

"What are we gonna do if someone calls the police?", my best friend Ellie told me.

"It wouldn't be the first time, would it?", and it was true. My friends and I had a long record of police officers calling our parties off, but that was before everyone got jobs or a boyfriend or girlfriend and couldn't meet anymore. In fact, that was the first time I saw all of my friends in months!

"Come, Ellie", I urged her putting an arm around her shoulders. "Forget about them and let's have fun!"

In my bedroom, our closest friends sat on my bed or on the floor or the yellow sofa I had in there.

"Barbs, do you like pineapple pizza?", Keery asked me as soon as we entered the room.

I squinted at him, "Uhhh, what?"

"Barbs, remember the time we went to Santa Monica with my mom?", that was Lana, she was sitting on the edge of the sofa, looking dark and intense. Her hands were open at the height of her chest, she reminded me of that guy on the History Channel who talks about aliens and shit. "Remember?"

I shook my head, "Uhh, yes. I remember, why?"

"Okay, pay attention", she pronounced every word calmly: "What did we eat that day?"

I frowned in disbelief, "How the hell would I remember that? That was last summer!"

"Barbs!", she growled "We had pineapple pizza that day!"

"See? That proves it!" Keery chimed back in with a loud clap "Pineapple pizza is so horrible that she can't even remember she had it"

"Okay, what the hell is this all about?" Ellie asked with the same frustration I was feeling. Lana crossed her arms and gave the boy a killer look. He narrowed her eyes at her, then glanced at everyone in the room before stuttering:

"P-Pineapple pizza!"

The rest of my friends chuckled.

"They can't agree on what ingredients are best in pizza", at last Logan explained the situation. "Joe said pepperoni and Lana said pineapple..."

"I said bell pepper", the redhead Madeleine broke in. Everyone stared at her "What? Bell pepper, unlike pineapple, is unproblematic"

I took a deep breath, "Well, pineapple pizza blows, to be honest"

"Whaaat?!", Lana gasped and gave me an indignant look.

Keery elicited a loud "HA!" before pulling Maddie in a kiss, "I won, babe!"

"Hey, hey, hey!", Lili threw a handful of popcorn at them. "No eating in front of the poor!"

"Yeah, can't you see we are three virginal damsels whose men are far away?", Ellie added in a fake baby voice. I chocked on my drink.

"Men?", Logan shifted on his seat and raised an eyebrow at me. "Whoa, I didn't know Barbara had a new boyfriend"

I glared sideways at my best friend, if looks could kill...

"That's because I don't have a boyfriend, Lerman", I responded sharply and bit on my cup. My friends knew everything about me, but I hadn't told them about me and Ben. Only three of them knew, which meant...

"Oh, don't look at me", Lili raised her hands quickly. "I didn't breathe a word" my eyes then drifted to Ellie who snorted and gave me a really? kind of look.

"What's that about?" Keery demanded, glancing at his girlfriend. "No one has told us anything about a boyfriend"

"Oh, good because I don't have one!" I sang stomping my way out of the room.

"Wha- hold on!", Logan jumped off his seat. "No one's leaving now that you dropped that bomb on us", he scanned the room, the others nodded in agreement. "Well, no one except me... We need alcohol for this", he said before stumbling to the kitchen.

I told them everything. Well... I might've skipped the part about Ben being in Bohemian Rhapsody and the fact that we had sex (twice) the night we met. But all in all, I told them every detail about my breakdown and the café and the brunch we had the next day and how he'd been a gentleman for taking me to airport.

"Wait, what's the name of this guy again?" Lana asked me once I'd finished telling the story.

"Ben, his name's Ben"

"Bennn... what?", my heart started pounding in my chest. I didn't want them to know his name, or find out about what he looked like or what films he'd been in. I wanted the Ben thing to finish once and for all.

"I-I don't remember his last name, I think he didn't..."

"Okay, give me second", she picked up her phone and started scrolling. My chest almost exploded, it was nerve wrecking! What if she knew Ben from somewhere? And then it dawned on me: Lana was in X-Men as well as Ben! "I worked with a guy named Ben that looks exactly like you describe him", I held my breath as she handed me her phone. "Is this your Ben, Barbs?"

My soul left my body as soon as I my eyes landed on the screen; It was a photo of Lana and Ben smiling outside a garage. I was right, they knew each other and I was SO screwed.

"So?", Maddie demanded to know. "Is that Ben or not?"

I decided there was no point in continue hiding it.

"Yes, that's Ben."

⭐

"Are you seriously gonna tell us you didn't sleep with this guy?", Keery was in complete disbelief but I wasn't budging. I'd promise myself I would bury that part of my life deep down the mud.

"Wow, is it so hard to believe that I actually behaved?"

"No, that I can believe...", he retorted.

"Oh, thank you!"

"...When the guy's ugly", he continued talking as he pointed the photo in Lana's phone. "But this guy's a hunk!"

"Yeah, I don't buy it either", Logan took the phone and started tapping. I buried my head on my hands, I was pretty sure he was googling his name. Suddenly, he gasped in awe. I closed my eyes shut. "Girl, there's no way in hell you didn't sit on this guy's face! Look at him"

The others shuffled and soon let out excited screams and snickers. I begged the gods, any god, to just end my life right there, there was no way any of my friends could live down the fact that I slept with Ben Hardy, even if I hadn't explicitly told them that bit of information. They weren't stupid.

"Have you talked to him since then?", Lana asked. The others were still admiring Ben's body (they wouldn't show me the phone, but I could sense that's what they were doing). I shook my head no. "Are you for real? Why?"

"I promised myself not to get involved!" I explained, lying on the floor. Soon after she did the same. "He's far away in London, busy with projects and I'm here in America and... I'm just not ready to start a relationship, not after what happened."

"Yeah, but you need to let it go, Barbs!", she flipped around so she could see my face. "Sooner or later, you'll have to accept that what happened with Harry isn't your fault. And that another guy could love you the way you deserve."

I sighed, "I don't think about Harry anymore, you know? The fling with Ben kinda gave me that extra push I needed to finally let him go..."

"Then what's the problem?"

I pursed my lips before muttering, "I don't want to get hurt again."

⭐

The gossip about Ben soon wore off and the party finished without any policeman coming to my door. I yawned as I wandered around the house, picking up empty cups and bottles from the floor and the furniture, Lili and was doing the same in the other rooms. When I finished cleaning, I roamed through the hallway and into my living room where I found Ellie and Maddie sleeping on the big couch.

I smiled, I'd missed my girls loads! Keery was outside, smoking a cigarette. I plopped on the other couch and allowed my eyes to rest, I felt exhausted from all the dancing, drinking, cleaning and the nerve wrecking confession to my friends. Soon after, I felt the couch dip on the side, I opened my eyes enough to see a blur: it was Lili. I smirked and let myself snuggle on the couch, resting my head on her legs.

She stroked my hair as she spoke, "Thank you for this, Barbs. You really cheered me up with the party", I half smiled as I felt myself drifting away. "Oh, and by the way, I found your phone in the fridge. Ermm, don't ask me how it got there, but I think your agent really needs to talk to you."

She placed my phone in my hands, and like I could I opened my eyes to see that I had 72 missed calls from my agent! "Holy fuck!", I got up abruptly as I scroll on my phone looking for her number. "Holy shit, holy shit..." I pushed the call button and waited. She is going to kill me for calling her at this time!

After a few tones, she picked up, "Hi, Amber? I'm sorry, I-", she spoke quickly in the line, so excitedly that she forgot to yell at me for calling her so late. My heart sank. "A-are you sure?!", a huge smile was starting to form on my face. Lili was looking at me, mouthing for me to tell her what was it and Keery had come to the door when he heard the commotion. "Wait, Amber! Can you say that again for the people on the back?" I put my phone on speaker and waited.

"...you got the role! I repeat, you got the role!"

"Holy crap!", Keery yelled putting both his hands on his head.

Lili and I screamed at the top of our lungs, so high that Ellie and Mads woke up screaming as well. Maddie rolled off the couch, ending on the floor with her red hair tangled all over her face.

"What the fuck is happening?!", she yelled from the floor, she was in a kneeling position now.

"Barbara got the fucking role!", Keery came forward and picked her up in an effusive embrace before kissing and lifting her in arms.

"Ohmygosh!", she said as he put her down and both of them rushed to hug me.

Ellie followed, hugging me from behind, "I knew you could do it, you beautiful bitch!"

I laughed as I let myself absorb all the love my friends were giving me. I was about to start a new chapter in my life, one that could change my life forever and I wasn't letting anyone get in my way.

◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈

Ok, this chapter was loooong! Hope I didn’t bore you...

btw!!! smut alert for the next chapter ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

TAGLIST: @rrrogahtaylahhhh @valeriecarolinaw

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miamaroo · 6 years

Text

Northern Migration- Chapter 25 (Notes+Preview)

Surprise! I’m updating about a week after my last update! Don’t get used to it, though. It’s only because I’ve been on break. I have classes again tomorrow, and finals seasons is about ready to slap me in the face. Hopefully you’ll see me again for the holidays. (Speaking of the holidays, we’re nearing the one year mark for when this fic first started wowza).

Like always, this is brimming with spoilers, so proceed forwards at your own risk.

Spoilers!

I messed around with that Taako scene for ages, trying to make the first distilled look into his character. I have a lot of trouble writing him, especially since I’m always trying to find a happy mixture of what he’s like in the show, what he’s like in the fanon, and what he would be like in the universe of this fic. I did my best. I’m not one-hundred-percent happy with it, but considering I rewrote the entire scene right before posting, I think it’s functional.

Since the next chapter is already written, I know that I’m going to keep mentioning layers of clothing as being a status of wealth. This is a part of what I plan on doing with the future flashback chapter into their history on their home plane. I feel like I have to mention it so that you get an idea of how the cultures are different, but it’s also annoying because it’s hard for me to convey that this is a cultural aspect that supposed to be different from Faerun.

Apparently, eyeballs help keep the structure of your head. I also did not know that.

Everyone in the TAZ fandom is a coward for not giving Taako a beard, and I’m counting Justin in that. Artists who give him stubble can stay, but you’re all on thin ice.

One thing I’m trying to figure out is a balance between people recognizing Avi in his old age because they know him well, and people not recognizing him because, honestly, I see pictures of my own dad as a young man and he’s a completely different person.

When John says “give your hands now,” it’s a purposeful twist of Merle doing the exact same thing in chapter 5.

I know I said this before—but John’s philosophy is so close to being that of some hero that it’s honestly scary.

As a kid, as I started thinking about perspective and morality, I also realized that a lot of what we considered right or wrong can be manipulated by whose point of view we’re viewing it from. And, as a preteen, I used that as justification for a lot of bad things. A lot of how I’m writing John is just thinking about how someone could’ve manipulated me into thinking or doing anything, and just giving him the opportunity to get Stevie to think that way as well. Like John has no way of knowing about Piper repeating all of her dad’s bad political beliefs (remember Piper and Gansey from chapter 3?), but he gets people. And I think he would know that, in her situation, Stevie would be thinking about morality in a way that would be easily manipulated in his favor.

All that being said: you’re a lot of fun to write John, but fuck you.

I don’t know yet if I want John to be aware of the Seven Birds concept, but in case I do eventually decide that he does, Vultures is a very on the nose confession of what he ultimately wants Stevie to believe. If I decide to make it so that he never knows, then it’s just me (the author) making an on the point piece of foreshadowing of what his plans are going to be.

John is a bard. Fight me.

And here’s a thought: this is the first time in the story where Stevie gets to have fun and it’s not interrupted by plot bullshit.

Originally, Lucas was going to have the weird crush on Avi, and it was going to be something that was going to making Johann feel extra sure about never confessing, but Avi already has so many other shit going on that I had to redistribute some things.

That being said, Sloane and Avi having this bitter history together is very important to me. With Griffin wanting TAZ to be about found family, I sort of wanted to take the opportunity to explore the idea of two people who became family before it was ruined. Basically, since Lucretia didn’t destroyed her family (minus Taako being pissed), I had to destroy another family.

Avi being in debt to someone is the reoccurring theme of his life. He was in debt to the Hammerheads, then Sloane, and now Bane and Barry. This guy constantly owes other people things.

Things that are also very important to me: Ren being fiercely protective of all her friends.

I can’t remember if Merle in canon couldn’t remember if he made a sash or a belt, but I’m taking Clint’s endless confusion over the two as an excuse to make it so.

I was going to write a scene where Davenport discovered that he can’t learn sign language, but I didn’t have the space and beyond just filling in a potential loophole, it didn’t really add more to Davenport. Like, he know he’s suffering. I don’t need to remind you that much.

The same goes for the cutting of a scene where Magnus is helping Julia learn how to walk. Again, there was a space issue and the fact that it wasn’t them actually making it up allowed me to feel like I can get around writing it. That being said, it still hurt to not write it.

Also, hey! Only two relics left to this story! I still have to write like three more interlude chapters before we can even get cracking on that, but now you can see how much progress we’re actually making in this fic!

This is such a minor detail, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out if I want stoves to be a thing in this world or not. I know that I decided a long time ago that everyone was going to have hearths except for the Starblaster, which was going to be technologically advanced enough to have an actual stove, but there’s not enough cooking in this damn fic to convey that idea. And when it does come up, it’s at Lucas’s lab, which would also be advanced enough to have a stove, but not one as advanced as the Starblaster. AND I CAN’T FIGURE OUT HOW TO EVEN CONVEY THIS IDEA. One time, I thought I could emphasize how almost scared Julia was of the stove, but then I remembered that she has had a decade to get used to it. SO YEAH. I JUST DON’T KNOW.

I know that I have to acknowledge any reasonable feelings Julia would have involving becoming disabled, but I’m also trying to be careful to make sure it doesn’t come off as condescending or pitying towards disabled folks. I’m trying to strike a balance, and I’m never sure how well I’m doing with.

Julia’s prosthetic leg is based upon prosthetic legs used for runners in the Special Olympics. I am going to add a link to a reference here, but it’s late and I might forget. If you noticed that I forgot, tell me and I’ll add it.

Stevie likes snow because it’s snowing in parley. She likes rainbows because the black scars on John’s face is holographic.

Also, Lucretia is gay. She’s like, super duper gay. Supreme gay.

I feel like I put down what color Taako’s magic is somewhere in this fic, but I don’t feel like looking through the entire thing in search of it, so right now I’m just writing around having to state its color for as long as possible.

The item Taako used to make the hole in the floor is the Hole Thrower. Don’t ask me where he got it.

Originally, I had a scene like two chapters back where Taako saw Angus, thus making his comments about seeing a kid around make a lot more sense. However, I convinced myself to get a little sneakier about Angus being on the ship and then proceeded to forget about it. Considering how much effort I usually put into foreshadowing everything (and this is still without a written outline), I’m going to give myself a pass on the bad writing this time around.

Like I mentioned in the chapter notes, I’m off break now and starting finals, so next update will take a long time. Feel free to talk to me on here and generally strike up a friendship. I’m a very lonely person. Anyway, here’s the preview for the next chapter:

Angus McDonald sits with his hands folded calmly on his lap, fancy clothes unruffled as he looks up at the circle of adults surrounding him. It’s plain from the slight quirk in his brow that nothing about being held up in the Starblaster kitchen is by any means threatening. He sits, mouth in a tight line, as he waits for his turn to speak.

“You’re such a drama queen,” Lucretia says dully, pressing a bag of frozen peas to Taako’s face.

He takes it gladly, practically collapsed against the kitchen counter as he moans. Angus’s hardy kick was just enough to make a single drop of blood creep down from his nose. “I’m dying, Lucy. When I go, tell Merle he could fuck off.”

“Whatever I do to you?” Merle demands, turning from his job of standing by Davenport’s side to shout.

Davenport, all the while, has his arms folded over his chest. His eyes are set in a harsh glare that makes Angus shift in his seat. Every adult in the room Angus is pretty sure he can handle, but Davenport is somewhere on the level of a god. Flanking each of his sides is one of the Burnsides, with Magnus in a pair of paint-splattered work clothes and Julia in a chair, her prosthetic leg still in her daughter’s possession. The kid was ordered to leave the room, but Angus saw her creep back in, armed with the prosthetic leg and a set of paints. She claimed the corner directly across from him. Every now and then, Merle and Taako make gestures grand enough that Angus catches a glimpse of the girl watching him as a curious spectator.

Davenport sighs, then nudges Magnus’s leg. At the cue, Magnus bends down into a squat, perfectly leveled with Angus’s eyes. “Angus. What are you doing here?”

“I—” Angus closes his mouth. He shifts until he’s back to the picture of innocence.

“We’re not mad at you,” Magnus says. “It’s just… we do a lot of dangerous things, and I’m sure your job as a consultant is plenty dangerous enough—”

“Detective.”

Magnus pauses. “What?”

Angus preens. “If case you forgot, my name is Angus McDonald and I am the world’s greatest detective. If you’re trying to interrogate me, I suggest that you do your best to ensure that you’re coming in with the most accurate information.”

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pollyestergivens · 6 years

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Part 2: Nancy Drew & The Case of the Missing Realism

Balancing Immersion with Puzzles

A wall of text series on how Nancy Drew games largely lost their charm.

A question every game developer must answer is, “How aware should the player be that they are playing a game?”

Games that focus on scoring points, gaining achievements, new & innovative game mechanics, etc. don’t always try to immerse the player in the way story-based games often do--indeed, some narrative based games these days are called “walking simulators” because of the almost complete lack of game mechanics.

What has always been special about the Nancy Drew series is the balance the games often achieve between game play mechanics and storytelling. Interviewing suspects, exploring locations, solving puzzles and collecting clues give the player an active role in unraveling the mystery.

In the early games, largely due to budget and hardware limitations, characters and locations were not exactly photo-realistic, but once they moved onto full-3D characters in the second title, I never felt it was significantly distracting or lessened my ability to get into the game (with the one glaring exception being their almost obsessive desire to slap the HER logo or Nancy’s name on every day objects in the game world, particularly in the earliest titles).

However, the irony is that as HER improved their ability to produce realistic graphics with each title (and moved on to slapping Krolmeister on everything), the content of the games seemed to be increasingly unrealistic, causing the very thing they should have avoided at all costs: breaking immersion.

Mini-Games

Mini-games showed up early in the series, but they were exceedingly rare in the first ten or so titles. Instead, the games were full of largely realistic, detective-style tasks such as dusting for fingerprints, code-breaking, finding and using passwords and locker combinations, etc., alongside important suspect dialogues and general snooping, which made for a pretty balanced-feeling game. Jump ahead to the last ten or so titles, and you’ll find a completely different scenario.

Take the last (and hopefully not final) game, Sea of Darkness. SEA is very nearly nothing but a barrage of mini-games. Whether you’re helping out at the pub “filling orders” or earning money by matching vocabulary words (though very fun for nerds like me), you’re painfully aware that you are playing a game. Many of the various contraptions on the ship (the wheel puzzle) and in the lighthouse (the 2048 clone) also scream “VIDEO GAME.”

Rather than methodically solving a mystery, Nancy is essentially going from mini-game to mini-game, with finding a clue or talking to someone as window dressing. It gives the player the feeling that the point of the game is not so much to feel like a detective or to care about the story, but rather to get a minor dopamine rush from finishing all the puzzles--much like the point of most hidden object games, which rarely take the time to produce a decent story since that’s not what the player is typically there for.

However, I would venture to say that Nancy Drew game players are there for the story and certainly there for the feeling of being a detective. By constantly being made to play mini-games like Aggregation, 2048, nonograms, sudokus, renograms, etc. ad nauseam, I find myself feeling less like a detective and more like I’ve just played a series of unrelated iOS games.

That isn’t to say that these mini-games aren’t fun--I found Aggregation and the wires puzzle from Trail of the Twister to be quite addicting. Nor do I think there were no great story lines in the later games (Shadow at the Water’s Edge and Ghost of Thornton Hall both shined bright in this area).

Rather, they simply break immersion, which gives the game a distinctly different feel from others that focus more on things like snooping through someone’s computer or sending Morse code messages to smugglers.

Sure, you’re usually doing the mini-game while being sleuthy--getting into Gray’s computer in The Deadly Device or getting into the safe in Shadow at the Water’s Edge--but it takes away the realism factor to, in my opinion, an unacceptable degree.

When mini-games are used sparingly, as they once were in the earlier titles, they can bring a fun-factor that only a video game could bring, adding a little variety to the typical adventure game puzzles like “find the key for the lock.”

Implausible Contraptions

However, mini-games are not the only culprit in The Case of the Missing Realism. Many of the games suffer from implausible contraptions made by dead people--sometimes for no apparent reason.

Again, look to Sea of Darkness for some egregious examples. Part of a skeleton holding a box within a secret area of an old ship that has been thoroughly restored yet somehow was not found??? The ship’s wheel has a fucking slider-type puzzle on it???

Was the captain an amazing engineer? No.

Did he hire an amazing engineer? No.

Similar issues abound with Tomb of the Lost Queen. Personally, I found this game and its numerous puzzles (some mini-games, some not) to be fun, but it didn’t feel like a “true” Nancy Drew mystery. The ancient Egyptians obviously were great engineers, but moving columns??? Really??? I found there was an almost mystical feel to the game, which runs quite contrary to the game worlds of previous games.

However, the absolute worst offender is Labyrinth of Lies. While the game designers no doubt had the time of their lives creating all those beautiful set locations, the stage system and all the sundry puzzles it contained made about as much sense as the entirety of The Shattered Medallion: absolutely none.

That coupled with suspects literally spelling out how to solve their own puzzles or find where they hid something made LIE a thoroughly unimmersive game.

We’re asked as players to suspend our disbelief in these sort of situations for the sake of an entertaining game, but again I ask: is simply being entertained really, at core, what Nancy Drew gamers want?

I say no.

I think what drew us in and what we kept hoping to find again as each additional title was released was the feeling of really being a detective. But the more we’re reminded that this is just a game and realism is sacrificed in favor of shoving in as many puzzles as possible, the less we get that feeling.

Perhaps making all the contraptions realistic can pose a creative struggle for the game designers, but past games have proven that an abundance of interesting and challenging puzzles can be included without sacrificing a feeling of awe or simply being interesting.

A few good examples:

Benjamin Hawkins’ hideout in Danger on Deception Island

The monolith in Secret of the Scarlet Hand

Almost all the secret areas in Treasure in the Royal Tower

The elevator shaft puzzle is a particularly clever example

The reveal of each of these places felt exciting and made me feel like secret rooms and hidden chambers can be real--like each of these places could actually exist in the real world. Part of what made them feel real was also that the mechanism which revealed them to us was not outlandish. Stone and jade artifacts were used to open the monolith, not a sudoku puzzle followed by the monolith rocketing off into space or some such feat of implausible engineering (though I won’t defend the bizarre, poetic speech given by the cast when Nancy escapes).

None of this is to say that every bit of the old games was 100% realistic--a little bit of suspension of disbelief is okay. But there is a balance that should be maintained, and sadly it became more and more unbalanced with later releases.

Character Personalities

There is no doubt that the Nancy Drew series contains some amazing and memorable characters. From the older games, we got Professor Hotchkiss, Brady & Simone, the wrong amnesiac, Red Knott, and Ethel, to name a few. And the newer games gave us Big Island Mike, Henry Bolet, Colin Baxter, Yumi & Rentaro, Deirdre, Jamila, and Harper Thornton, among others.

Aside from some “hip” dialogue that missed the mark in Warnings at Waverly Academy and questionable accents in several games, characters generally felt genuine and unique--only occasionally would they say something odd or out of character. But a trend started to appear towards the end: so many of the characters began to sound the same--they were almost all suddenly witty.

Aside from the ever evolving personalities of George, Bess and the Hardy Boys, Yumi and Rentaro were the first exceptionally witty characters I noticed, and at the time it felt quite novel and like a genuine portrayal of funny, young people. But then came Lukas, Marcus, and Karl in The Captive Curse. Then Ryan in The Deadly Device. Then Bridget in the The Silent Spy. Then the entire cast of The Shattered Medallion. Then Niobe in Labyrinth of Lies. Not to mention all the random, out-of-character injections of wit coming from countless others in almost all the last ten games.

I remember loling at some of the quotes from Rentaro and Miwako, and I think their wit and humor lightened up an otherwise dark and grim story line--similar to Harper’s role in Ghost of Thornton Hall. But increasingly in the newest ten titles, it seemed like the humor often fell flat or simply didn’t fit with the character. It started to feel like you weren’t talking to suspects in a mystery, but rather characters all written by the same author.

Sadly, not everyone is a master of wit in the real world, and the overuse of these type of characters can feel jarring. Again: immersion broken.

The Big, Glaring Exception

HER always ends the game with a final culprit-stopping puzzle. They usually involve quick thinking, recalling previous game knowledge and/or high-stakes puzzle solving--and they usually range from implausible to impossible. Sometimes dreadfully combining implausible contraptions with a mini-game, these doozies have been rearing their ugly heads since that alarm sequence at the end of Stay Tuned for Danger.

The famous “fight” in Danger by Design and the Poe-inspired showdown in Warnings at Waverly Academy raised more than a few eyebrows--even on the HER official message boards, where criticism of any game is often tantamount to sin. But they’re far from alone in their bewilderment. From magical platforms in Tomb of the Lost Queen and The Creature of Kapu Cave to a well-trained whale in Danger on Deception Island and the mini-game-to-end-all-mini-games in Labyrinth of Lies, the ending has never quite been the peak of any Nancy Drew game.

Why It Matters

Some evolution of the Nancy Drew game series was perhaps inevitable, given the sheer volume of titles released. In an effort to keep interest up and stay relevant, HER took risks by adding mechanics and trying out new writers and designers over the years. The trouble is, the feel of the games evolved too.

Rather than finding ways to maintain that sense of mystery and realism (and perhaps improve their endgames), they began to drift towards a much more “gamey” feel. Collectible phone charms began to be placed in game scenes (why are there cellphone charms in an ancient Egyptian tomb??? The real mystery of that game). Powering on a lighthouse went from logically deducing the correct light bulb to a round of 2048.

Was it wrong of HER to move in this direction? Of course not. It’s all down to matter of opinion whether these changes made the game more or less fun, and I freely admit that I thoroughly enjoyed many of the newest titles.

But did they feel like “true” Nancy Drew games? Not really.

With Pointless Tasks, mini-games, and unrealistic characters and scenarios around every corner, immersion was constantly being shattered, and I increasingly walked away dissatisfied with the newest installments.

But another culprit shares the blame as well--the topic of Part 3: Nancy Drew & The Vanishing Set Designer.

Read Part 1: Nancy Drew & The Curse of the Pointless Task

#clue crew #nancy drew #her #her interactive #opinions

106 notes · View notes

winterbaby89 · 7 years

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Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke - Chapter Two

A Captain Swan, Season 1 Canon Divergence Collaboration by: @hollyethecurious, and @winterbaby89

Beta’d by: @ilovemesomekillianjones

Amazing Artwork by: @xhookswenchx

Rated M for language and dark themes (and maybe (probably) some sexy times… later ;o)

Summary: Moments before the Evil Queen’s Dark Curse whisks our beloved fairytale characters to Storybrooke, Captain Hook finally gets his revenge on the Crocodile. Twenty-eight years later, Killian Jones awakes in Storybrooke expecting just another ordinary day, that is until a number of abnormal occurrences disrupts his otherwise scheduled life. The greatest of which is a new face in town. A young woman by the name of Emma. Emma. What a lovely name…

Disclaimer: Canon dialogue and scenes from various episodes will appear within this fic. To Adam, Eddie, and the OUAT writers goes all the credit.

Line breaks indicate change in POV or Scene.

Also available on ao3, my fic page, and Hollye′s fic page And if you want to catch up on the last chapter.

This work is no longer available on FF.net. Unfortunately the site does not allow authors to co-publish collaborative works.

Chapter Two

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Hands. Plural. As in, he had two of them again. How?

Was it a side effect of Regina’s curse or from his being...

The Dark One.

The bloody Dark One.

I’m the bloody Dark One!

It had all come back in a rush. Fast and sporadic flashes of memories - his memories - that told the story of his long life. A life that spanned centuries, and yet the truth of it had hit him in an instant. The truth of who he truly was.

Killian Jones.

Orphan.

Slave.

Lieutenant.

Pirate.

Captain Hook.

Dark One.

Killian shuddered at that final memory, and then panic seized him once again. He spun around surveying the room, expecting the Crocodile to manifest himself at any moment with his mocking and jeering. But he hadn’t appeared. Not in the bar. Not on the long walk home. Not even now as Killian paced the length of his manor.

Why?

‘This new realm is a land without magic’, he remembered suddenly. Regina’s words, just before she’d solicited him to kill her mother, echoing in his ear.

A Land Without Magic.

‘Where The Dark One will be stripped of his power.’

For the first time in what seemed like hours Killian took a deep, steadying breath. The Dark One had no power in this land. He had no power in this land. Even still, Killian could feel the rage, the anguish, and the all encompassing darkness he’d felt in that clearing. The memory of their collective presence haunting him more severely than any of his other demons ever had.

And even if they now lay dormant within him, it didn’t change one other fact… he was still Captain Hook. A villain in his own right. A scourge and a scoundrel out for only one thing. Revenge.

Killian pressed his fingers onto the now vacant space on his forearm. Milah.

Revenge had been his, but at what cost?

He’d become the very thing he hated the most. The very thing she hated most. Rumplestiltskin may not have been The Dark One when they’d been together, but Killian had seen it in her eyes when he’d told her of his run in with her husband turned Dark One on the docks; the loathing at what he’d become coursing through her.

For centuries Killian had justified his own depravity and darkness because it was all in pursuit of avenging her. He believed that she’d understand, would offer him absolution for his actions because the ends would justify the means. But now…

Now all he felt was shame. Shame at what he’d become, and thankful to all the gods that she had not lived to see how far he’d fallen in his quest for vengeance. And not just Milah, but Liam as well.

Liam.

Killian clasped at the chain hanging from his neck, but knew it would not hold what he sought. Liam’s ring. What had become of it? What had become of all his possessions? His hook, his coat, his sword, his…

Dagger.

The Dark One dagger.

It had been in his hand when the curse hit, and even though he knew it no longer had the power to control him (at least, that is, as long as Regina’s curse and the lack of magic in this land kept The Dark Ones at bay) he in no way wanted it in anyone else’s possession other than his own.

Killian tore the manor apart in his search, upending rooms he had no memory of ever even entering before. Memories of his cursed life interspersed with his real life. Bloody hell, leave it to Regina to over complicate matters. As if three hundred years of his own memories weren’t enough for his mind to contend with, now he had twenty-eight years of practically the same day recurring over and over again in his head. The only detail making the days distinct from one another was Henry.

Henry. He knew.

The lad knew about the curse. He’d mentioned it before, his suspicions that the stories in the book his teacher had given him were true. Killian had recognized it as a coping mechanism, a way for the lad to try and escape the reality of his unhappy life. A way to ground himself to something more hopeful.

Killian now understood why Henry Mills had come to mean so much to him. He was a lost boy, just like Killian.

On some level Killian had recognized that trait in Henry, even as he had forgotten his true self. It’s probably what had prompted him to suggest that the boy seek out information about his birth parents in the first place. Of course, he never considered that Henry would actually run off in search of the woman who’d given birth to him. But seek her out, the lad had, and her presence in Storybrooke had already begun to change things.

The mystery of why her name broke the spell he had been under notwithstanding, Killian knew he’d only just scratched the surface of the intrigue Emma Swan possessed. But he couldn’t focus on that now. On her. He had a dagger to find and a secret to keep.

As Emma dressed the next morning, and thought about stopping at the diner for breakfast, she heard a knock on the door. Answering it revealed Regina with a basket of apples in hand, and a fake smile plastered on her face. Great, I have to deal with her crap before I’ve even had the chance to drink my first cup of coffee? Just great. Before Emma could manage a polite hello, Regina thrust an apple toward her and started in on some random spiel.

“Did you know the honeycrisp tree is the most vigorous and hardy of all apple trees? It can survive temperatures as low as 40 below and keep growing. It can weather any storm. I have one that I've tended to since I was a little girl, and to this day I have yet to taste anything more delicious than the fruit it offers.”

“Thanks,” Emma responded dubiously as she took the proffered apple Regina extended to her, still clutching her cup in her right hand.

“I'm sure you'll enjoy them on your drive home.” Regina tried to hand over the full basket of apples, but Emma took a half step backward, refusing to reach out for it.

“Actually, I'm gonna stay for a while.”

A brief flicker of anger and agitation crossed Regina’s face at Emma’s declaration and refusal before she schooled her features into a mask of pleasant nonchalance. “I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Henry has enough issues. He doesn't need you confusing him.”

“All due respect, Madam Mayor, the fact that you have now threatened me twice in the last twelve hours makes me want to stay more.”

“Since when were apples a threat?”

“I can read between the lines. Sorry. I just want to make sure Henry's okay.”

“He's fine, dear. Any problems he has are being taken care of.”

A concern for Henry’s well being swelled within her chest at Regina’s words, prompting her to ask, “What does that mean?”

“It means I have him in therapy. It's all under control. Take my advice, Ms. Swan, only one of us knows what's best for Henry.”

That’s right, Emma thought. She remembered meeting Henry’s therapist the other night when she brought him back to Storybrooke, he was the kind man that had given her directions to Regina’s place. She remembered as a sense of relief flooded through her that Regina wasn’t referring to something more sinister. Great I’m starting to think like Henry, she’s not the Evil Queen, just a concerned parent, most likely a bad parent, but concerned nonetheless.

“Yeah, I'm starting to think you're right about that.” Emma didn’t miss the glare Regina sent her way at that comment.

“It's time for you to go.”

“Or what?” Emma challenged.

“Don't underestimate me, Ms. Swan. You have no idea what I'm capable of.” Considering that the end of the disturbing conversation, Emma shut the door without another word to Regina, and locked it before going back to getting ready for the day.

Thirty minutes later, Emma found herself perched at the counter in Granny’s diner. Perusing the menu, she debated what to order, when Ruby set down a hot chocolate with cinnamon and whipped cream in front of her.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you, but I didn’t order that.”

“Yeah, I know. You have an admirer.” At that comment, Emma turned and tried to tamp down the hope that it might be from a certain blue eyed gentleman who had haunted her dreams the night before, only to see Sheriff Humbert. Her disappointment swelled within her as she picked up the cocoa and approached his table, intending to let the poor man down gently.

“Ah, so you decided to stay.”

Was it really that much of a surprise to him? “Observant, important for a cop.”

“It's good news for our tourist business. It's bad for our local signage.” Graham looked a little uncomfortable with the awkward pause as his joke fell flat. “It's... it's a joke. Because you ran over our sign.”

The only immediate response she can muster is to roll her eyes at his terrible attempt at a joke. “Look, the cocoa was a nice gesture, and I am impressed that you guessed that I like cinnamon on my chocolate, 'cause most people don't, but I am not here to flirt, so thank you, but, no thank you.” Gently placing the cup on the table, she considers whether or not she would have accepted it from a different, accented man.

“I didn't send it.”

“I did. I like cinnamon, too.”

Her head shot towards the front table by the window at the sound of Henry’s voice. How did I not see him there earlier? “Don't you have school?”

“Duh. I'm ten. Walk me.”

He’s definitely my kid with that eyeroll. Without so much as another look at the sheriff, Emma placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder and began steering him out the door towards the bus stop.

Killian stopped abruptly in the back hallway of the diner as he watched the Swan girl and Henry make their way out of the diner and along the sidewalk that led to the bus stop. He was going to have to come up with some sort of excuse for avoiding Henry, as he was not quite ready to bring himself to lie to the boy by keeping up with his cursed facade in the lad’s presence. For now, he had a more pressing issue at hand; one he hoped the good Sheriff might be able to assist him with.

Killian prided himself on possessing a stealth that served him well in keeping people on their toes, or catching them off guard with his approach, but he’d never been able to get a jump on the Sheriff. The man somehow always knew when Killian, or anyone else, was approaching him, he seemed to have a sixth sense about him. In light of Killian’s regained memories he wondered just who Graham was back in their realm, and what the man would say if he knew that it was the infamous Captain Hook, or The Dark One for that matter, that was making himself welcome in his booth.

“Good morning, Mr. Jones. Something I can assist you with?” the Sheriff questioned, his disdain only slightly veiled in his tone.

“Actually, Sheriff. I’ve come to do my civic duty as a responsible citizen and business owner,” Killian replied as he placed a hand gun on the table between them, causing the Sheriff to tense momentarily before Killian could add, “I found it at the docks. Thought it best to turn it in to the proper authorities.”

The truth was Killian had found it during the search of his home overnight. Guns, knives, legal documents, and all manner of possessions had been uncovered. While not completely inconsistent with his nature, the items weren’t altogether authentic to who he was, cursed or otherwise, either, and no dagger had been found among them. It was only after he’d felt certain that no location within his home had been overlooked that Killian began to consider where within the town he might continue his search.

The stash of weapons he’d found concealed in various rooms had led him to the idea that the dagger may lay unclaimed within the Sheriff’s station. Not wanting to tip the lawman’s suspicions any further than they would be prone to, Killian had devised the ruse of turning over the firearm in hopes of naturally opening up the opportunity to question Graham about unclaimed blades.

“You found it?” Graham questioned suspiciously.

“Aye.”

“At the docks?”

“Aye.”

“And you’re just turning it in?”

“Would you rather I not?” Killian quipped inquiringly. “Too much paperwork involved, or are you running out of room to store unclaimed weapons at the Sheriff’s station?”

“We don’t have any unclaimed weapons at the station,” Graham admitted, unaware that he’d just provided the pirate with the very information he sought.

Damn! Killian cursed to himself. He’d have to continue his search elsewhere.

“Right. Well, first time for everything I suppose. I’ll leave you to it then, Sheriff.”

Killian exited the booth and took purposeful strides toward the door. He ran through his mental list of potential locations the dagger could be hiding, as he made his way to the sidewalk a flash of blonde curls and red leather caught his eye. He watched Emma make her way through the door that led up to Dr. Hopper’s office, or according to Henry, Jiminy Cricket’s office, and was once again struck by the urgent pull he felt toward the beguiling woman.

Shaking off such fanciful notions he turned himself towards the docks. He had a dagger to find and a day of searching through warehouses, offices, and his beloved Jolly Roger ahead of him.

Emma lounged on her bed at the B&B as she scoured the files that Dr. Hopper had given her about Henry. So far nothing was jumping out at her, but she wasn’t completely sure what she was looking for. She wasn’t a therapist, and until about three days ago she hadn’t considered herself a parent either. Not that she did even now that Henry was in her life.

A sharp knock at the door added to her current disgruntled state. When she found Sheriff Humbert on the other side she couldn’t help the sarcastic greeting that fell from her lips.

“Hey there. If you're concerned about the Do not disturb signs, don't worry, I've left them alone.”

“Actually, I'm here about Dr. Archibald Hopper. He mentioned you got into a bit of a row with him earlier?”

“No,” Emma clipped firmly as she placed her hands on her hips in annoyance.

“I was shocked, too, given your shy, delicate sensibilities,” Graham mocked, earning him an eyeroll. “He says you demanded to see Henry's files and when he refused, you came back and stole them.”

“He gave them to me.”

“Alas, he's telling a different tale. May I check your room, or must I get a search warrant?”

Unbelievable. Emma turned and allowed Graham to enter. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

“Is this what you're looking for?” she asked, gesturing to the numerous papers scattered across the bed.

“Well, you're very accommodating,” Graham needled as he picked up a few papers before delivering the news Emma had been waiting for, even as she reeled at the outrageousness of it all. “I'm afraid, Ms. Swan, you're under arrest. Again.”

“You know I'm being set up, don't you?” It was more a statement than a question as Graham affixed cuffs to her wrists.

“And who, may I ask, is setting you up?”

Emma continued to proclaim her innocence, casting accusations at Regina all the way from the B&B to the Sheriff Station. She questioned Graham about Regina’s hold and influence on the town even as he booked her.

“Regina may be a touch intimidating, but I don't think she'd go as far as a frame job,” Graham argued.

“How far would she go? What does she have her hands in?”

“Well, she's the Mayor. She has her hands in everything.”

“Including the police force?” Emma accused.

“Hey,” an excited voice echoed from the hallway.

“Henry, what are you doing here?” Graham asked.

“His mother told him what happened,” Mary Margaret supplied, having accompanied Henry to the station from school.

“Of course she did,” Emma exasperated as she stared pointedly at Graham before addressing her son with a bit of trepidation. “Henry, I don't know what she said-”

“You're a genius,” Henry interrupted.

“What?”

“I know what you were up to. You were gathering intel for Operation Cobra,” Henry speculated with hushed excitement.

“I'm sorry. I'm a bit lost,” Graham confessed.

“It's need-to-know, sheriff,” Henry said dismissively, “and all you need to know is that Ms. Blanchard's gonna bail her out.”

“You are? Why?” Emma questioned incredulously.

“I, uh, trust you,” the petite woman stated skittishly.

Looking between Henry’s smug face and Mary Margaret’s quiet understanding Emma felt her need for retribution spike as she turned to Graham with her hands out in front of her.

“Well, if you would uncuff me, I have something to do.”

Killian aimlessly wandered along the streets of Storybrooke, having had no success in locating the dagger. Though, he had uncovered more intriguing items that would require his attention and focus once the bloody damned blade was back in his possession.

He was starting to wonder if the infernal thing had come over in the curse at all. For all he knew, it remained in the Enchanted Forest sealed away in the vault he had emerged from after the Crocodile’s death. The only way Killian could be truly sure was to either keep searching and find the bloody thing or march into the Mayor’s office and ask Her Majesty. The latter option was not one he was willing to entertain, so he continued his trek as he ticked off all the locations he’d already explored.

Not in the manor, not at the Sheriff’s station, no sign of it in any of my usual hiding places within the Jolly. The warehouses and dock offices were a bust as well. Perhaps I should… what is that blasted noise!

The sound of a motor cut through Killian’s internal mutterings as he realized he was just across the street from the Town Hall. His curiosity piqued at the unusual sound, Killian made his way towards the building’s courtyard to investigate, but then quickly had to find a place to tuck himself away as he saw the Evil Queen exit the building.

“What the hell are you doing?!” the mayor exclaimed as she rushed across the courtyard towards the racket that continued to permeate the area.

A racket, that Killian could now see was being caused by the lovely Emma. She was wielding a chainsaw, ruthlessly plundering the Mayor’s prized apple tree as she made a quip about picking apples. Now, more than just Killian’s curiosity was piqued at the sight before him.

“You're out of your mind.”

“No, you are, if you think a shoddy frame job's enough to scare me off.”

Frame job? What else have I missed? Killian wondered.

“You're gonna have to do better than that. You come after me one more time, I'm coming back for the rest of this tree. Because, sister, you have no idea what I'm capable of.”

Killian watched as Swan violently tossed the chainsaw aside and challenged, “Your move,” before stomping away. A fresh appreciation for the tough lass washed over him. So, she and the Queen are at odds, then? Not surprising, he supposed, Regina’s at odds with everyone in this accursed town.

Just as Killian was preparing to extricate himself from the dark cluster of shrubbery he’d hidden away in, Sheriff Humbert pulled up in his police cruiser, no doubt having received a complaint about the noise of the chainsaw. Killian decided to remain tucked away for their exchange. Treasure and priceless commodities came in many forms, none more valuable in his experience than good, old fashioned gossip. Information that one could use against one’s enemies was a prize worth harboring in the bushes for.

Killian patiently listened as Regina expressed her desire to once again have Swan arrested, only to have the Sheriff question the effectiveness of such an action, even as he inferred his suspicions that Emma had, indeed, been set-up for her earlier transgressions.

“I think your schoolboy crush is clouding your judgment,” Regina barbed accusingly at the Sheriff.

The accusation caused a spark of rage to ignite in Killian’s chest, he bit back a growl that threatened to reverberate from within. Taken aback by having such a fierce response to the implication that Graham may harbor feelings for the same woman who had so ensnared him, Killian nearly missed the remainder of their exchange.

“You want me to arrest her again, I will,” Graham complied.

“Good.”

“But she's gonna keep coming at you, and I know you, you're gonna keep going at her, and you will do whatever it takes to get her out of here and you may succeed-”

“No, I will succeed. He's my son. It's what's best for him.”

Killian could barely contain the scathing retort that burned his throat, knowing now just how manipulative and cruel the woman had been in regards to the boy.

“I know that's what you believe,” Graham stated sympathetically, “but if this escalates, it seems to me the only one who will get hurt is Henry.”

Killian watched as Graham departed, leaving both he and Regina to stew in their thoughts of how the repercussions of Emma’s presence in Storybrooke would ultimately affect the boy. Even with the gut-wrenching realization of his true self, and the knowledge of what lay dormant just beneath his surface, Killian could not bring himself to resent Henry for bringing his birth mother there, and ultimately waking him from his cursed state. She was changing things, and Killian believed that such changes would only benefit Henry. It was apparent, however, that Her Majesty did not share this sentiment.

“There has got to be a way of getting rid of that woman without Henry blaming me,” Regina muttered to herself, as she passed Killian’s hiding spot. “If ever there was a time I needed my powers… wait-”

Killian’s attention sharpened at Regina’s mention of her powers. I thought this was a land without magic?

“Perhaps that little imp had something stashed away. Somehow my curse failed to bring him over, but perhaps there is something in the pawn shop that could be of use.” Regina’s speculations prompted her to abandon her immediate concerns for the mangled tree, and Killian watched as she rushed back into her office building - presumably to grab her purse and keys.

The Crocodile. Regina didn’t realize the truth of just why the curse had failed to deliver Rumplestiltskin to this land. But she believed something useful of his might be hidden away within the abandoned pawn shop?

Killian began to wonder whether or not a certain item he’d been in search of might be located there as well. He was at a disadvantage, seeing as he was on foot and Regina would have her car to get her there ahead of him, so Killian wasted no time in making his way back towards Main Street, hoping against hope that her search would not lead to the dagger before he arrived.

Chapter Three

Tagging some lovelies that have asked to be tagged, as well as some we believe might enjoy. Please let us know if you do, or don’t wish to be tagged.

@abeylin1982 @aprilqueen84 @artistic-writer @ashar663 @captain-k-jones @captain-swan-coffee @downeystarkjr @florenzu @freakassbuthunter @gingerchangeling @golfgirld @greenleaf777 @ilovemesomekillianjones @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @laschatzi @leiaswanjoneskid @like-waves-on-the-beach @rookiehookie @seriouslyhooked @teamhook @ultraluckycatnd @xhookswenchx @yayimallamaagain

#cs ff #cs canon divergence #cursed killian #dark hook #season 1 #cs fanfic #Captain Swan #dark hook comes to storybrooke #winterbaby89writes #words by hollye #cs fan fic #cs fan fiction #captain swan fic #cs #captain swan fanfiction

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justagirlwritingherlilheartout · 7 years

Text

Is it that obvious? (FP Jones-Riverdale)

Requested by the lovely @sunnylilac : Can you do an FP Jones one? Where you're around 25 and you put your dreams on hold to help a dying family member, that lives in the trailer park. You don't really know much about the town but when you catch FP's eye he will gladly show you around and give you a good time. It can always contain smut😊😊

Sorry for the wait, hope that the 8 pages make up for it :) <3 (smut at the end)

''Oh for fucks sake!'' A young girl in her mid 20's cursed at her phone as she got out of her little car. The GPS stopped working 5 minutes ago and now she was a 100% sure she was lost.

She pulled out her purse, digging in it to find an actual map. Once she finally found it, she opened it up on the hood of her car, looking down at it, feeling even more lost.

She felt a smile spread across her face as she saw a red truck pull over besides her car. ''Thank god, actual people.''

''You seem lost.'' A tall, dark haired man in his late 40's or maybe early 50's, said as he got out of his car and walked over to her. He had such swagger in his walk that made him look younger than he was.

''Is it that obvious?'' The girl smiled flipping her hair before straightening up and walking over to him. ''I'm Y/N.'' She offered him her hand which he took with a smirk.

''Nice to meet you. You can call me FP.''

''Well FP, it seems like you're destined to be my savior today. Do you by any chance know how i could get to Riverdale and further more a place called.. South side?'' She questioned him looking down at her phone to read off the exact name.

''Yeah, I'm heading there, so if you want you can just follow my car and I'll get you where you need to go.'' FP said that breath taking smirk still on his lips.

''That would mean the world to me.'' She said with a joyful smile on her face.

''Alright. Wanna tell me where exactly you're heading?'' The man asked as she started to close up her map.

''I'm going to be staying with my aunt, she lives on the Marcus' park at the very end.''

''Ah, Nancy?''

''Yeah. Since her husband died she needs someone to take care of her. And i guess that's me.'' She smiled as she threw her purse and the map back in to the car.

''I see.'' He nodded. ''Ready?''

''Yeah, thanks again.'' She smiled and both of them walked in to their cars, FP, driving of with Y/N close behind him.

He couldn't help but think about the girl driving behind her. She was so young and so beautiful. Yet there was something about her that made her different in some way. The way she carried herself the way she smiled.

Coincidentally the girl behind him was thinking the same thing about the man who saved the day.

He could almost be her dad, yet she couldn't stop thinking about how his hand felt in hers, how his hand would feel caressing her face as his lips gazed over her, his scruff starching her soft skin. Or how his hand would feel sliding down her naked back as his body would be pressed against hers... ''No!'' She had to stop her before her mind took her to an even more inappropriate place. She shook her head trying to focus on the road and not the handsome guy in the truck in front of her.

''What's wrong with you?'' She whispered to herself as she saw a sign that read 'Welcome to Riverdale.'

The truck in front of her took a left turn, so she mimicked him and in about 2 minutes they both came to a stop.

She got out of her car just as FP did the same. He walked over to her. ''Thank you so much, i wouldn't be able to get here without you.'' She smiled.

''It's no problem.'' He waved his hand as if it was nothing. ''That's your aunt's trailer.'' He ponied to the very last trailer in a row of others.

''Thank you, let me make it up to you.'' She smiled looking up at him. ''How about i buy you a drink? Please, it's the least i can do.''

''Sure.'' He let out a chuckle, knowing she won't back down until he accepts. Not that he minded. Spending more time with this beautiful girl, no one would complain.

''Yay, so where to?'' She asked, remembering that she has no idea where anything is in this town.

''Across the street. It's a small bar called The Whyte Wyrm.'' He said as they started to walk.

But four steps later Y/N stepped in a weird way and lost balance. She would without a doubt have fallen, and probably broke her nose, if it wasn't for FP who caught her.

''You sure you're up for a drink?'' He joked, setting her back on her feet, but keeping his hand on the small of her back.

''Yeah, believe it or not, I'm less clumsy when I'm drunk than sober.'' She said walking close to him as they both laughed.

''I'll keep that in mind.'' He nodded before entering the bar he previously pointed at.

''FP, the usual?'' A guy that was probably the same age as Y/N asked soon after the duo sat down behind the bar.

''Yeah.''

''And what can I get you, beautiful?'' The guy turned to Y/N who smiled at him, before asking FP what the usual was.

''Beer and a shot of Whiskey.'' He said shortly, glaring at the younger guy.

''I'll have the usual as well then.'' She said, her smile still playing on her lips.

''Coming right up.'' The guy said and walked away.

''So i take it you come here often?'' She turned to the man who she came here with.

''That obvious?'' He said in the same tone she did before, when he asked her if she's lost, making her laugh.

''Well not everyone has the privilege of having ''the usual''.'' She winked as the guy from before handed them their drinks.

''True.''

''Cheers.'' She said as they clicked their shots, drinking them and washing them down with a sip of beer.

''So how come you decided to come help your aunt out?''

''Well i finished uni last year and worked at a local shelter for a year and then i got the news that his husband passed away. Her son is god knows where, so i felt bad for the woman.''

''You just doped everything and moved here?'' He asked, surprised.

''Pretty much.'' She nodded. ''I know, it's crazy, but i can build my career anywhere, so why not here, I'm sure i will be able to find a job soon enough, so i will be able to help her out while I'm here.''

''Wow.'' He said, clearly impressed.

''So, you're a local here?'' She turned the conversation towards him, curious to find out more about the mysterious man who she literally met in the middle of nowhere.

''Yeah, born and raised.'' He said, taking a sip of his beer. ''I live a couple trailers west of your aunt's trailer.''

''Oh, do you live alone?''

''Yeah.''

''I'm sorry, i didn't mean to prey.'' She quickly apologized, noticing the changed expression on his face as she asked him that.

''That's okay. My wife, packed her things, took my daughter and moved away. And my son is living with his friend.'' He said, surprising himself. She was just so easy to talk to.

''Oh I'm so sorry, that must of been a big hit for you.'' She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. And for some reason that brought a small smile to his face.

''Yeah, but it was a long time ago. And it was probably for the best.''

''Everything has a reason, right?''

''I guess so.'' He said smiling at her optimism. ''So what kind of jobs will you be applying for?''

''I was thinking, that i should go ask if any of the schools need a counselor or something like that. If not, i might just take up being a waitress. That's how i got trough 5 years of university so, I'm pretty good at making cocktails and purring shots.'' She winked.

''Makes sense. You seem to be a people's person.'' He said smiling at their touching hands.

They continued to talk for over an hour before Y/N's phone rang.

''Excuse me.'' She smiled at him before picking up her phone without looking at the caller ID.

''Hello.'' She answered ''Oh hey auntie Nancy.''

Then silence. FP took that time to study the girl in front of him. She wore a floral sundress that reached the middle of her thighs. Giving the dress an hour glass shape, was a big red belt positioned at her natural waist. The whole outfit complimented by black ankle high heel boots that matched her leather jacked with rolled up sleeves. Her face was pale and round, framed by wonderful long hair. She wore simple yet glamorous (for Riverdale at least) make up.

''Yes I'm here, I'll bring my bags there in a minute. Stay put, okay?'' And with that she hang up her phone.

''I'm sorry I have to go. It was really nice talking to you.'' She said pulling out her wallet and paying for the drinks before he could try to object.

''Do you need help with your bags?'' He asked, offering her his hand which she gratefully took.

''I don't wanna bother you.'' She smiled.

''It's no bother.'' He said as they walked out of the bar. It was already dark.

''Okay.'' She smiled and nodded. ''I would really appropriate that. I have to warn you tho. I have a lot of clothes, which means a lot of baggage.''

''I wouldn't suspect anything else.'' He said, his arm making its way around her waist. ''Safety first.'' He said as they walked over the spot where she tripped before.

''Okay take what you can.'' She smiled as she opened the car doors.

''Of course, princess.'' He said with a smirk as he took four suitcases in his arms, making the girl raise an eyebrow at him as she took two and was hardy able to keep them in her hands.

It only took them 2 trips from the car to the trailer before they were finished.

''Thank you.'' She smiled at the man in front of her. ''How will i ever be able to repay you?''

''Let me buy you a drink tomorrow.'' Was all he said before wrapping his hand around her waist and hugging her goodbye.

''See you tomorrow.'' She smiled before walking inside.

The rest of the night was pretty busy for her. She unpacked all of her bags and talked to her aunt. She was getting old and could hardly do anything on her own.

Around 3AM she finally showered and got to bed. Well couch. There was only one bed and that one was her aunt's. So she had to sleep on the couch which was very uncomfortable. But after a whole day of driving and cleaning she fell asleep the second her head touched the pillow.

''Good morning auntie.'' She said with a cheerful smile, helping the old lady out of bed and making both of them breakfast. As her aunt ate she got dressed in a black tight high waisted pencil skirt in to which she tucked a white dress shirt, finishing the look of with black high heal shoes. She put on her usual brown eye shadow and black eyeliner with a dark nude lipstick.

''Here we go.'' Y/N said as she helped the old lady to the other couch and turned on the TV. ''I'll be gone for a couple of hours, okay?''

The old woman nodded as the girl took her purse and walked out of the trailer.

She most differently didn't look like someone who lived in a trailer park. Once in her car she put on her glasses and put her hair in a neat bun before driving to the Riverdale high school.

''Hello, I'm Y/N, Y/N Y/L, I called last night for the job interview.'' She smiled, fixing her glasses as she waited for the lady to tell her where to go.

''Second door on the left.''

''Thank you.'' She walked to the door she was directed to and knocked.

''Come in.''

''Hello, I'm Y/N Y/L, I'm here for the job interview.'' She said again. this time to the old grey man sitting behind a big wooden desk.

''Ah, the counselor, right?'' He said reaching out his hand for her to shake.

''Yes, sir.''

''Please, sit.''

''Thank you.'' She smiled before sitting down and reaching in to her purse. ''Here's my resume and everything you need to know.''

The man took her papers and started reading them. ''Impressive.''

''Thank you.''

''Would you be able to start working tomorrow?'' He asked.

''Of course!'' She said happy that she found a new job.

''You would be working 4 hours a day, mostly taking care of special needs kids and probably taking a lot of students who are still griefing for their lost fried, Jason Blossom.'' He told her a bit about what happened to the teenager not long before her arrival.

''Thank you, i guess I'll see you tomorrow then.'' She smiled before shaking his hand and walking out.

She drove back to the south side where she, as soon as she got out of the car, saw FP.

''Hey!'' She smiled, locking the car and walking in his direction.

''Y/N?'' He looked the girl up and down. ''Wow, you cleaned up nicely.''

''Thank you.'' She smiled, doing a small twirl. ''So guess what?'' She said walking over to him, hugging him as a greeting.

''What?'' He smirked, after pulling away from the hug and leaning back against his trailer.

''I got the job!'' She smiled with excitement.

''Wow congrats!'' He said hugging her again, this time tighter, almost lifting her off the ground. Making her giggle.

''We need to celebrate.'' She said remembering his invitation from last night.

''Yes. Come in, i have a couple of beers in the fridge.'' He said opening the door, letting her walk up the small steps in to his trailer. He bit his lip, as he saw her ass in that tight little skirt sway from side to side when the walked up the stairs. He quickly followed her. Closing the doors behind them.

''Y/N?'' He said making her turn around.

''Yea-'' She was cut off by his lips pressed on hers. She stood frozen for a second, surprised.

''I'm sorry, i shouldn't of done that.'' He pulled away when he realized she didn't react.

''No. You should of done that sooner.'' She smiled stepping forward, titling her head up and pressing her lips against his. Kissing him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He quickly wrapped his hands around her waist, lifting her up with ease. ''Lets celebrate then.'' He said as carried her over to his bedroom, letting her back on her feel before sitting down on his bed with her standing between his legs

''Goddamn, you're beautiful.'' He said almost enchanted as he ran his hands along her soft curves, paying special attention to her hips and ass. He turned her around and she let him. FP quickly unzipped her skirt pulling it down and revealing a black lace tons covering her privates.

He let out a low growl before grabbing and spanking her ass making her let out a soft whimper. She decided to speed things up and took off her shirt, before turning around, revealing a matching lace bra. She straddled his lap and started to unbutton his his shirt as he continued to squeeze and spank her ass. Soon his shirt joined hers on he floor.

''These,'' She said motioning to his pants. ''need to go.''

''As you wish princess.'' He said, lifting her up and flipping them around so she was on her back and he was able to stand up. In less than a second his pants were on the floor and his erection spring up against his stomach. ''Your turn.'' He said motioning to her bra.

She quickly unclasped it and threw it somewhere behind him as he took off her thong.

He leaned down, kissing her soft stomach, leaving a trail of kisses down to her hip then her thigh, his beard scratching her, somehow making everything feel even better.

Finally his lips found the spot where she needed him the most.

''Yes!'' She moaned out, her fingers finding themselves in his hair tugging on it lightly.

His hand traveled up to her breast, massaging it gently as his tongue was working miracles oh her clit.

''FP! I need you!'' She almost begged.

''Anything for you, princess.'' He said bringing herself on top of her, leaning down and kissing her. She could taste herself on his lips as he positioned himself at her entrance. And a second later he was slowly pounding in and out of her making her eyes roll back. Due to his size and the way he moved, his slow movements felt better than anything she has ever felt before. But slowly he started to pick up the speed, making her wrap her arms around his neck, bringing him closer to her, wanting to feel more of him, she wrapped her legs around his waist, moving in the rhythm he lead.

''Yes, just like that.'' She moaned out, pleasure written all over her face and a minute later she was moaning out his name as he helped her ride out her orgasm.

The final shakes of her orgasm passing just as his thrusts started to become sloppy and uneven. ''Come FP, cum for me.'' She whispered biting on his neck as he hit his climax, a mix of low groans and moans filled the room they were in.

Collapsing next to her he wrapped her in his arms, both of them having content smiles on their faces.

''Now this is a celebration.'' She smiled, making them both laugh, still breathing heavily.

Request here!

Masterlist here!

AN: Hey, i hope i did it justice. tell me what you think. Any more requests? You know what to do :) <3<3<3

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psychicdan · 7 years

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Samurai Jack: Renegade Samurai

Rating M for graphic depictions, language, violence and suggestive themes

Warning:

The following is a work of fanfiction and is not intentionally connected to real world places, events, or people, nor intended to copy others’ work. Samurai Jack is the work of Genndy Tartakovsky, his team and affiliated studios and companies. This is solely fanfiction for fun and not profit.

Chapter VI: Lawlessness and Profit

Rocky outcroppings, orange brown dirt, and the occasional hardy plant could be seen in this otherwise barren terrain, the blazing sun beating down on the rocks and dirt. It would be devoid of civilization if not for the nearby outpost nestled between some outcroppings and facing the barren stretch of land before. Driving on the road leading to the arid outpost was a motorcycle kicking up dirt as it drove into the outpost and slowly parked. The drivers, Jack and Ashi, surveyed the area. The people all looked a bit rough, probably on account of the area. Some didn’t look like they lived in the area, and given all the vehicles in the lot, were probably just visiting. This was likely just some resting outpost, a place for people to stop, rest, and resupply before getting on the way. What the pair was most intent on finding though was any signs of the Magnus Protectorate. Once they confirmed there were no such buildings, vehicles, or soldiers from that organization, they loosened their tension a bit, but still kept a subtle guard about them. Some of the travelers looked a bit gruff, and Jack and Ashi noticed the occasional concealed weapon. It wasn’t a surprise that a place lacking the discipline and presence of the Protectorate might lack its strict law enforcement. Then again, Jack and Ashi couldn’t criticize much. It was much better than walking into a place swarming with Cyber Troopers, and they weren’t so different from these people, given their own guards and weapons. They noticed a sort of grill and bar and walked in, hoping to get both food and drink as well as maybe information. When they walked in, a number of the patrons looked up at the new arrivals. For a moment, everyone was tense, before the patrons decided to loosen their tension and return to what they were doing. Seems as though out here, not many paid much mind to the Protectorate’s notices or didn’t care. Jack had walked into bars plenty of times back in Aku’s future without hesitation, but each time he had to be ready for all the bounty hunters that would jump at the huge price Aku put on his head. Fortunately, it didn’t seem like he was exactly the most wanted man in this world. If anything, warnings about him were a bit limited to just warn the public rather than panic them. Still, both him and Ashi stayed alert while walking to the bartender and cook, ready for anything. They sat down as the bartender, a middle-aged woman, sized them up with a stern glance. “Don’t get many with that getup, but whatever. What’ll you be having?” the bartender asked. “Can we have the usual meal and some hot water please?” Jack asked. “No booze?” she asked. “No, just the hot water and your regular food, thanks.” Ashi said. They weren’t regular drinkers in the first place, and planned to get back on the road after this. “Hon, get a couple of burgers to go!” the waitress yelled. A man in the back, the cook, tossed some patties on the steaming grill he worked on. Seemed from the context they were a married couple that ran this grill and bar together. The waitress ran a pot of water under a flame as that happened, and soon she poured a couple of mugs full of water. “Thank you” Jack said. He pulled out a few ingredients for herbal tea and mixed them into the hot water with a short stick, and soon enough had some nice tea to go. “Where do you even find stuff like that?” Ashi asked. “Sometimes in the market, other times from the plants themselves.” Jack answered. He was thankful tea making was not a complex process, as it was an acquired taste for him. Both he and Ashi drank the tea, and she seemed a bit pleased. “Mm, it’s good.” she said. “Really? Thank you, I was worried…never mind.” Jack said, still embarrassed about how on his spirit journey before, the monk that guided him said his tea was terrible. He knew that was to reflect spiritual balance, but he was always worried since then that he had lost his touch at tea making. Sighing in relief, he began drinking again when he remembered something. “I am sorry, but I was wondering if you could give us some directions. We are headed for Novas Sanctum, but we are not familiar with the area or where that is. Could you point us in the right way?” Jack asked. The waitress looked at him rather bewildered. “The Protectorate Capital? Why would an apparent outlander like yourself be doing in an orderly place like that? Well, if it’s Novas Sanctum, let me tell you, you’ve got one hell of a road ahead. It’s a little north of the center of the continent, and you’re seriously on the fringes around the southwest. Seriously, you’re near the Outlands, that’s as pretty far from Protectorate territory as you can get.” the waitress scoffed. “The Outlands?” Ashi asked. “What rock did the pair of you crawl out of?! The Outlands, areas here and there over the world in some of the most remote places, far from the rest of civilization. You know, places so far out there, not even the Magnus Protectorate bothers with them? Seriously, everyone knows about them, along with where the Capital is. Go buy a map at the store nearby.” she said, rather irritated at the pair’s vast ignorance. “Though I should warn you dunces, if you don’t know what the Outlands are, I’d steer clear. They’re remote not just out of distance. They don’t have much in the way of food and water, got plenty of dangerous wildlife, mutants from the war, pretty much anything the Protectorate prevents. The only benefit they got is that there’s no Protectorate there, and that in itself is bad. Any and every outlaw uses those no man’s lands as asylum from the law, so don’t stay unless you want a blade or a bullet in your back. Heck, we’re bordering one of those places, so it’s kind of a risk being here, but it’s good enough business. Some prefer to take their chances and not have the Protectorate breathe down their necks.” the waitress warned. “I, uh, see. Thank you for the caution, we’ll remember that.” Jack said, a little confused by everything. From what he could tell, they were a long way from their goal, and were in fact going the wrong way. They seemed to be near a remote and lawless area that did not fall in Protectorate law. While that freed them from the threat of Cyber Troopers, they had to deal with all the lawless elements. It seems that anything Magnus did not control was both sparse and lawless, indicating he was the only law and order in this world, albeit the most formidable Jack had seen. Of course, it made sense that ruling the entire world left a few areas unchecked, as Magnus would be strained resource wise. Jack’s thoughts were interrupted with the arrival of the burgers. He preferred the tastes of his home, sure, but being as well travelled as him made him open to all manner of meal, both in his travels in the past and his journey in the last future. A burger was a basic, common meal, both in that timeline and this one apparently, and he was all right with it. After he and Ashi finished eating, Jack reached into his pouch for credits, but was a bit dismayed. From what he could see, they still had enough to pay for food and maybe the map and gas, but they wouldn’t have enough for anything after that. The waitress noticed his troubled expression when paying, and decided to lend them a helpful idea. “You know, if you’re short on cash, you could try your hand at some of those bounties. Like I said, we live next to the lawless out here, so we need help to put them in their place when we don’t have Cyber Troopers to help us. You don’t have to kill them, if that bothers ya. Just bring ‘em here and we’ll ship ‘em off to the Protectorate. Ah, here’s a good one.” the waitress pointed out. She gestured to a wanted picture of a lanky, disheveled man. The reward displayed was quite the amount of credits. “Crazy son of a bitch calling himself Rabid Dog Fargo. Kills travelers and traders on the road, even when they surrender, they say. He’s getting to be a real menace, even tried shooting up the place in broad daylight, till the other patrons brought out their guns too. That dog needs to be either caged up or put down. What do you say?” the waitress proposed. Jack thought about it. Being a sell sword was never something he liked the idea of, but he did have to do the odd job here and there to get by before, and like then, he didn’t have the luxury of options. Though, given his lifestyle without an actual working occupation, he had to wonder if he was acting more rōnin than samurai. “Why not go for it? We’ll be doing some good for the locals and get some money for supplies, and no one has to get hurt.” Ashi persuaded. Jack sighed, supposing he couldn’t argue with the circumstances. “Alright, let’s go.” he said.

…

Jack strained his eyes up ahead against the glare of the sun as he climbed up the rock face. Not far beneath him was Ashi, who was also training against both the height and the heat of the sun. They had left a few hours ago to interview the travelers about Fargo’s last appearance at the outpost, which had only been three days ago. He had been wounded, and from the traces of dried bloodstains and foot prints, they inferenced he was hiding up on the tall rock face. For a would-be bandit, it was optimal. It gave a good overview of both the outposts and roads, letting him survey both potential prey and identify pursuers. The remoteness of it also made it harder to find and catch him, so it was as good a hiding spot as well as a vantage point. That was why, rather than taking the walking path, Jack and Ashi were climbing to avoid being seen. Finally, Jack could see what he hoped was the last ridge. He climbed over, and once he did, he extended his hand over the edge and lifted Ashi over as well. Both breathed in and out for a few seconds before they surveyed the surroundings. Before them was a cave, likely Fargo’s hideout. Jack and Ashi nodded at each other as they turned and walked cautiously into the cave. They could soon see lanterns and a makeshift tent there, and made out a mumbling voice. They could then see a disheveled, disorderly man, Rabid Dog Fargo, talking to one of his dead victims sitting down with him as they ate. “And so, I was going to ask politely if they wanted to join me for a drink, and you know what they did, they started shottin’ at me. Sure, I got a bit loose and shot first, but hey, that was a joke. Those jackasses got no sense of humor, I tell ya.” Fargo grumbled to the corpse. “Well who needs ‘em. After all, you’re a good chum, givin’ me all this food and drink and sharin’ your company. Hope you like the place, I like that “macabre” or whatever they call it look, feels homey for me.” Fargo laughed, acting as though he was having a jovial conversation with a living person. Jack narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth, infuriated with this level of disrespect and callousness to both the living and dead. Ashi had a look of pure disdain all over her face. If Jack wasn’t so set on keeping this piece of shit alive, she would kill Fargo without hesitation. But since live capture was decided from the beginning, she would just have to restrain herself. For once though, they wanted the Protectorate to be disciplinary with this one. They snuck in the shadows behind Fargo as they crept closer till they were right behind them as he kept laughing. “So, you want to take the shot this time, or me? Well, if you isi-GUHH?!” He cried out as a pair of fists crashed down on his skull, knocking him out but seriously wounding him as small amounts of blood ran from his head. There was no pity from the eyes of his captors though. Ashi brought out the rope they brought as she tied him up so he wouldn’t get away. At first, they had planned to carry him, but after that sight, Ashi was just dragging him across the ground as he groaned. The only sympathy they ever displayed was to Fargo’s victim. “I will see to it. You go on ahead.” Jack said to Ashi. Ashi complied, but only went as far as outside the cave. Soon after, Jack emerged as well, carrying the deceased in his arms. It would look rather suspicious taking the body back to the outpost, even if they did claim Fargo responsible, so this was the only option. Jack set to work as he gathered rocks and laid them upon the deceased, finishing with a marker stone. Chief among Jack’s regrets was that he didn’t even know the person’s name as he tried to wish them a peaceful transition and release. After he was done with his mournful thoughts, he turned back to Ashi they headed for the walking path. “HOLD IT!” a voice cried out. Running up to the front of the walking path was a figure in faded black leather trench coat. He wore a sort of combat mask and helmet with wide colorless eye lenses, and beneath his coat he was wearing a chest guard above a gray t shirt, wore black denim pants, and was wearing rough brown boots. Holstered at his side was a laser revolver and some sort of device that had a grip, but didn’t look like it could be fired or slashed at an enemy. Given all these factors it was fair to surmise he was a mercenary, albeit not that impressive since he was wheezing out of breath through his mask. He must have run up the rock face as fast as possible. “W-wait. T-that’s my bounty you got there. Been chasing that asshat for days, I, whooo, uh, that was, ugh, exhausting. L-let me catch my breath for a sec.” the mercenary gasped out. After an awkward moment of heavy breathing and awkward stares from Jack and Ashi, neither of them knowing how to respond, the mercenary finally collected himself. “Uh, sorry about that, got panicked when I saw you guys climbing is all, so I ran up as fast as I could. Anyway, I signed on for the bounty on Fargo’s head a week ago. Damn asshole’s been giving me the runaround, and just when I got back to the outpost, I find out he attacked without me knowing. Thought I caught a break when he left clues, till I saw you two. Look, I’ll be straight, just hand him over.” the mercenary said, extending his hand. “Wait, what? No way! We made it first and we need the reward!” Ashi asserted, rather irritated with this guy. “Look it’s been weeks since I last got a real reward and now I’m strapped for cash. Do you know how hard it is for a regular mercenary to find work in this day and age?! I gotta eat too, you know?! So hand over that murdering bastard or else.” the mercenary said. “Please, I’m sure there’s a way we can settle this and…” Jack said, trying to diffuse the tension before a laser shot zoomed past his head and blasted a hole in the rock beside him. He didn’t even have time to react as the mercenary had drawn his laser pistol without warning and fired it in the blink of an eye. Given the mercenary’s composure, that was no miss, it was a warning shot. If he wanted Jack dead, it would be very feasible for him. “Last warning.” The mercenary said, done fooling around. Jack steeled himself as he drew his sword, prepared to confront the mercenary’s animosity with his own. The mercenary, while on guard, didn’t hesitate either, and drew the strange device at his hip. With a click, it suddenly transformed and broke into segmented pieces. The pieces floated in fixed points in air, with one sharp point at the end, and the space between them was filled with bright blue light. The mercenary never explained, but this was a cybernetic photon blade, which made the Cyber Troopers’ combat blades look like butter knives. All three combatants stared down as the peak filled with tension. After a moment of silently holding ground, the mercenary charged in and clashed his blade with Jack’s. He seemed slightly surprised that Jack’s sword didn’t break on contact, as it just looked like a regular thin steel sword. They continued to clash, bright flashes coming from the cybernetic photon sword each time. They locked swords again, and Jack struggled to figure out his opponent. Just as he was a good gunman, he was an accomplished swordsman, and he obviously faced off against skilled opponents before. Fortunately, Jack was as well, and he drew the pistol at his side. The mercenary saw this and backed off with a jump. Jack fired three bullets aimed at different places, but rather than dodging, the mercenary blocked each one. “This one is dangerous”, Jack thought. The mercenary further confirmed his thoughts as he grabbed something circular from his trench coat and unpinned it. Jack’s mind went into alarm, and as he ducked for cover near some rocks, the mercenary threw it and explosion rocked the peak. He tried peering into the smoke to find any trace of the Samurai, but then he felt a presence closing in. The figure coming out of the dust wasn’t him though, it wasn’t as tall or sturdy as him. This was confirmed as he barely blocked the knife with his blade, seeing Ashi attack him with killing intent. As they both backed off, the mercenary fired his laser revolver, but Ashi was fast, swerving and dodging each shot at the last minute. She closed in at the last minute and punched him in the face, cracking his mask. He swung his blade at her, but she dodged and backflipped away. If he wasn’t so focused on her, he might have noticed that the smoke had lifted and the Samurai rushing in with his blade. He finally noticed at the last minute, but he barely blocked the sword attack as it grazed his damaged mask and helmet. They fell in pieces and Jack now stared at the face of his enemy that he had once again locked swords with. The mercenary appeared to be young, just a year or two younger than Jack and Ashi, with brown, rough hair reaching down to the top of his neck and appearing slightly shaggy in tuffs. He had faded blue eyes and a rounded nose and a slightly pointed chin. In contrast to the state of his hair, his face was cleanly shaven, and the color of his skin was white. Despite his apparent youth, Jack could see the experience in this foe’s face, as he appeared tense with his teeth gritted, but didn’t look about ready to give into fatigue or frustration. Jack held his own resolve then, but it looked like the mercenary seemed distracted a moment as his eyes went wide at something in the distant. “GET DOWN!” he screamed, pulling Jack down to the ground right as a speeding bullet roared past where Jack’s head was a moment ago. Jack was stunned at the sight, and turned his attention to where the bullet came from. The young mercenary was already ahead of him on that, and with two hands and peerless aim, fired a shot in the direction of the previous one. It reached the opposite peak and struck the sniper rifle of the assailant, blowing it to pieces. Jack couldn’t make out who it was as they already backed off down the peak. Still, he doubted that was the last of him, as it was obvious he had aimed to take Jack’s life. “Um, thank you, for that.” Jack said awkwardly. The mercenary sighed in exasperation. “You can keep your thanks for later. We can argue and fight over the scumbag later, right now we’re sitting ducks over here.” the mercenary explained, as they both got up and Ashi joined them. “Wait, why’d you help us? How do we even know you’re not with that guy? You just tried to kill us?!” she yelled at him distrustfully. “The only person who tried any killing here was you, lady. I just wanted kick your asses and get my reward. Look, I just reacted, okay. Not like I enjoy seeing people get shot dead, and if I was with him, I wouldn’t have saved your boyfriend’s ass, okay. Now, can we please get out of here before we get shot? If that was who I think it was, he’ll be back.” the mercenary retorted. Jack and Ashi were a bit embarrassed by the mercenary’s use of the word “boyfriend” as it seemed their relationship wasn’t hard to guess, and they couldn’t exactly retort to that, rude as he was about it. Still, he was valid in his other points as well, so they complied. Jack grabbed Fargo, still knocked out, and together the company of three headed down the mountain, cautiously looking ahead and to the sides for trouble. When they reached the bottom, they had not lessened their guards. Good thing too, because from both sides, 8 armed hostiles, each looking rough, desperate, and murderous appeared. Given their tattered garb and poor weaponry, they were obviously bandits. “Great, this is why I love being near the Outlands.” the mercenary said sarcastically. “Hey, that’s them, right? Guy said he’d give us a haul if we skinned those two, yeah? What about him?” said one bandit. “Skin ‘im too. He looks like he’s got valuables on him.” said another bandit with anticipation. “Are you kidding me?! I’m broke, you, ah whatever.” The mercenary lamented as he fired his laser revolver at the bandit that said to kill him, blowing his head off as he fell down. The bandits got the message then and attacked. It wasn’t much of a fight. Jack sliced the throat of one and cut another one down through the shoulder. Ashi stabbed one through the head and filled another one with bullets with her SMG. The mercenary shot another one through the chest as they charged, and when they got to him, he bisected one and stabbed the last one with his cybernetic photon sword. The 8 bandits lay dead at their feet, blood pooling at the foot of the path. Jack was suspicious. Why did the assailant think that this would work? Did he actually think that these bandits could kill them? Jack was not overconfident, but he didn’t think he could be taken down that easily, and he was sure his enemy knew that as well. Something wasn’t right. His suspicions were confirmed when a cylindrical device rolled in and started beeping faster and faster. “QUICK, RUN!” Jack shouted as he and the others ran and ducked as an explosion rocked where they had stood. Jack lifted his head and looked around to make sure Ashi and the mercenary were safe. Once he confirmed that and they all got to their feet, they noticed a figure walking through the smoke. As it began to clear, Jack was both surprised and on guard. Coming out of the smoke was what he recognized as an intelligent canine, but not like the friendly archaeologists he met in the last future. This one had lethal aura about him. He was about as tall as a human man, and from what he recognized, the assailant resembled a German shepherd, but a scar ran across one of his eyes, leaving him blind on the left. His right ear looked slightly torn as well. Obviously, he had plenty of rough fights. He was covered in weathered up green and black armor, and carried a machete on one side and a repeater on the other. What he was carrying was a chain gun, primed and loaded. “Shit, Chlodwig. I was hoping I was wrong.” the mercenary said, gritting his teeth. “Cassius, out of the way of my bounty. The Protectorate just upped the bounty on both of them to 500,000 credits, dead or alive. So back off.” Chlodwig said in a gruff, accented voice. “Look, you got the wrong idea. I don’t do bounties for the Protectorate, all right? I was just having a little property dispute with them is all.” Cassius explained. “Hmph, if you got over that hang up, you might actually become a half decent mercenary and start making real money. Instead, you’re still hauling small time thugs for food and rent. What a waste. Well, you can cash your pocket money when I’m done with them.” Chlodwig scoffed. Jack was a bit confused by that. From the sounds of it, Chlodwig and Cassius here were opposite ends of the totem pole, with Cassius catching small time outlaws and Chlodwig hunting professionally. But Cassius certainly didn’t fight like an amateur, if anything Jack suspected he’d be one of the real professionals. Who was Cassius? “In case you’re wondering who the hell this asshole is, his name’s Chlodwig, Real professional, hunts for anyone as long as they’re the highest bidder. Ran into him on a few bounties, he’s a real savage. Shot down one of his associates when they were having a verbal argument, no one worked with him after that. If he’s hunting a hit on your ass, that’s bad.” Cassius explained. “Sorry, what did you call me? An asshole?” Chlodwig growled with animosity. “Well, yeah! You seriously shot down one of your partners, and just now you nearly killed me twice! I nearly got shot and blown up, damn it!” Cassius vented. “Like I said, you got in the way. So, stay out of the way, before I blow your friggin’ head off!” Chlodwig said before he just barely dodged a laser blast that grazed his intact ear, blood tracing down his head. When he realized the insulting intent of that injury, he growled with rage as his chain gun started to rev up. “I’m going to regret this, but screw you anyways.” Cassius said nonchalantly. He, Jack and Ashi turned serious then and dodged as a hail of bullets came from the chain gun, turning everything in front of Chlodwig into a free fire range. Jack, Ashi, and Cassius barely managed to hide behind a boulder, but that wasn’t going to last, as cracks were already forming and rock bits were chipping away. Jack grabbed a rock twice the size of his hand and threw it in the air. When it fell back down from the bullet filled air, it turned to fragments smaller than a pinky finger. “Yeah, we’re mincemeat if we go out there.” Cassius said. “Can’t stay here either. Got any bright ideas?” Ashi said with some criticism. “I seriously just pissed off a crazy professional mercenary at a moment’s notice without a plan. Clearly bright ideas are the last thing I got now. How about you, topknot?” Cassius asked. Jack held his hand to his chin as he thought up how to face Chlodwig. As long as he had that chain gun, a head on attack was suicide. So, they needed a quick move that would distract him and let them destroy it. Then it occurred to him. “Do you have any more of those explosives?” Jack asked. Cassius was a bit baffled as to why he asked that in this situation, then realization dawned as he smiled. “Oh, I see what you’re going for. Yeah, I got a few more. But how are we going to distract him to use ‘em?” Cassius asked. “Leave that to me.” Asi said, smiling with confidence. The trio readied themselves as Ashi took aim from behind the top of the boulder and fired. Chlodwig noticed and began firing towards her. That was the chance. Cassius unpinned a grenade and rolled it towards Chlodwig. Still, he was rather experienced and noticed it as he stopped firing and backed up as it exploded. “Grrr, bastards! Did they think that shit was going to…” he thought before a figure closed in from the smoke, sword in hand. Chlodwig’s eyes opened in alarm as he tried to ready the chain gun again, but it was too late. The double feint paid off as with one clean stroke, Jack slashed the chain gun in two. “GRAHHH!” Chlodwig roared as pulled out his repeater. Jack jumped back to get distance as he blocked with his sword, though a few bullets still grazed his arms and legs. Chlodwig was so focused though that he didn’t see Ashi jumping in with her combat knife, slashing the repeating before Chlodwig countered with his machete. In the ensuing blade clashes, he knocked the combat blade away and was about to strike her before a bullet knocked his machete out of his hand. It had come from Jack’s pistol, Jack himself looking very upset at Chlodwig. “Damn you, I’ll-GAAAAHHH!” Chlodwig screamed in pain as he felt a sudden attack at his left side. He looked down to see blood pouring out of where his hand used to be. Now, it lay on the ground next to him, soaked in his own blood. The cause was a cybernetic photon sword, gripped in a slashing motion by Cassius. He knew that since Chlodwig was blind in the left side, enough of a distraction would leave him wide open then. Cassius stood straight as Jack and Ashi stood behind him, with Chlodwig backing away in pain, clutching his bleeding wound. “Leave, now. Or do you still want to fight like that.” Cassius said, looking down on Chlodwig with stern eyes. Chlodwig’s eyes turned downward in both frustration and resignation. He came here with enough firepower and armament to turn hordes to pieces, but now he lost both that and his left hand, and it was still 3 to 1. If he wanted to live, there was no choice. He was no Protectorate fanatic, so dying fighting Magnus’s battles was not how he saw himself going out. Still, as he turned back, walking away with blood still trailing down in drops, he said one thing to the group.“ Fick dich alle zur Hölle.”. Jack frowned, knowing some German from his travels and understanding what that meant. Fuck you all to hell, was the rough translation. “Uh, yeah, right back at ya.” Cassius said, not knowing the exact context, but felt it was meant to be insulting. “So, since that was enough action for like, I dunno, a month, do you just want to call it quits and split the reward?” Cassius said, looking a bit exhausted. Jack and Ashi nodded, sharing his sentiments. “Aw, my friggin head, who the hell-GUHH?!” Fargo said as he stirred awake before getting a kick to the head from Cassius. “Alright, gave that asshole some payback and did my part. Now I don’t feel so guilty. Let’s go get us some money and a drink.” he said.

…

The trio sat down in the bar, resting from the day’s events. They had turned in Fargo, a little worse for wear, not that they cared, and the bartender gave them the outpost’s reward, which they split three ways. As Cassius suggested, they were now sharing in a light drink, not enough to get drunk, but enough to take a little edge off. “I’m uh, not big on introductions and you already heard, but uh, name’s Cassius, or Cass if you like.”. he said with some reserve, not big on jovial greetings. “It is a pleasure to meet you Cass, I am called Jack.” Jack greeted with both graciousness and humility. “I’m Ashi, so don’t get it wrong Cass.” Ashi stated with a stern smile. Though she was now on friendlier terms with him, in part thanks to his own actions and Jack’s outward trust, but Ashi still reserved some animosity for his rough, crude behavior. “Jeez, alright, alright. Anything so you don’t stab me. So, I guess you’re those renegades the Protectorate’s losing their shit over, huh?” Cassius inquired. The pair looked at each other, not wanting to have to fight more would be bounty hunters. “Looking to cash in?” Ashi asked with distrust. “Like hell. Said it last time, I don’t do bounties for those shit lords. Hell, it makes me laugh to hear they got problems. So much so, that maybe I should tag along.” Cassius mused with slight humor. “Wait, what?!”. “Excuse me?” Jack and Ashi said respectively at the same time. “Like I said, I hate those guys, all right. Not like I can walk into Protectorate territory without dealing with those bucket heads in the first place, so I don’t mind a bit of lawbreaking. Plus, I’m still pretty dirt poor. Figure It’ll be easier to make ends meet with company than on my own. Know you probably don’t make much either, but it’s better than what I got. Basically, you take me in, I help you stick it to the man, deal?” Cassius proposed. Jack and Ashi looked at each other a bit dumbfounded. Even ignoring the implications and responsibilities of bringing someone else into their fight, Cassius’s reasons were really too simplistic. Who works with wanted fugitives on a whim? “Is that really all there is to it?” Ashi asked with scrutiny in her eyes. Cassius sighed. “Look, I just got a personal axe to grind, all right? That’s all I’m going to say about it. You saw I can look after myself, so don’t get any hang ups about thinking I’m your watch, okay?” Cassius explained. “This will be very dangerous and there is not much in the way of money. We live on the run and don’t have much luxuries. Are you sure about this?” Jack stated, making it clear this would be risky, not comfortable or profitable. “I figured as much. It doesn’t sound all that different from what I was doing before. Desperate mercenary looking for work, remember? Sleeping in the woods on rocks or eating gruel are common past times for me. Getting shot at is pretty common too, ‘least I can sleep with both eyes closed with company around. So, what do you say?” Cassius asked. Jack looked at Ashi, with all she offered being a shrug, which really indicated “why not”. With that, Jack nodded, and turned back to Cassius with a smile. “Thank you, Cass, your help means a great deal.”. Jack said with gratitude. “Jeez, polite much? Well, it’s a welcome change. Same here. So, where we going?” Cassius asked. “Novas Sanctum.” Jack answered. Cassius turned back to Jack like he misheard. “Wait, the Protectorate Capital?! Here I thought I had an axe to grind. You think big, huh Jack? Well, I guess that works. Off to the hornets’ nest then. Oh god.” He said with some dry sarcasm, trying to diffuse his stress. As he walked to the door ahead of Jack and Ashi, he saw a Magnus Protectorate promotional poster. On it was Magnus’s face, overlooking a lineup of Cyber Troopers. The poster read “Defend the Peace and Join the Magnus Protectorate Today.”. Cassius’s eyes narrowed at that as he clenched his fists, bad memories resurfacing. “Is... something wrong?” Jack asked with concern. “Huh? Oh, uh, nothing, nothing. Just need that night air is all. Anyway, my ride is outside in the lot, so let’s go.” Cassius said, dismissing his prior thoughts. They walked outside, now nighttime, into the makeshift parking lot, where Jack and Ashi’s armored motorcycle remained. Cassius gestured to his vehicle, which was also a motorcycle, but more traditional and not bearing armor. As Jack and Ashi got on their motorcycle, Jack expressed a troubled thought to Ashi. “Ashi, does it seem odd how far Cass is going for us?” Ashi nodded. “He said he had personal reasons, but he won’t share. I thought he was lying, maybe a spy, but he looked really troubled back there. Maybe it was something bad enough he doesn’t want to talk about it?” Ashi surmised. Jack nodded, getting that impression as well. “He does not seem to be of ill intent, but he is keeping much to himself. He is a struggling mercenary by trade, but the way he fought was that of an accomplished and trained warrior. Why would a person like that be struggling or resisting the law? It makes no sense.” Jack stated. “Well, we’ll just have to ask him when he feels like talking about it.” Ashi concluded. Jack sighed, affirming that was the only way they would make sense of it. That wasn’t what bothered him most though. “Ashi, this seems weird, but it’s been bothering me for a while now. I had the strangest sense when I saw Cass’s face in that fight. Does there seem to be something familiar about him to you?” Jack asked. “Ashi held her hand to her chin, contemplating. “Now that you mention it, there is something familiar about his face. Not like I met him before, but like his face looks like someone else I’ve seen before, like his face is a bit similar. But who?” Ashi asked, struggling to match the sense of familiarity. In the end, their contemplation was interrupted with a honking sound. “Perhaps it is nothing, or just a coincidence.” Jack said, knocking off previous concerns. He drove the motorcycle up to the lot exit, where, Cassius waited on his own motorcycle, and the pair of vehicles drove back on to the arid road, the only lights being the moon, stars, and their headlights as they drove on.

Author’s Notes: I know I’m very wordy and some parts might have been dull, but I write each one with the frame and scope of an SJ episode in mind, which is why they are as long and detailed as they are. Sorry if you weren’t here for a lecture on the Outlands and stuff, but I’m still in world building right now. Wait until I get to things like the Abominables and a group inspired by a faction from a game I love. Now, Cassius. Cassius is one of three original characters I had planned to join Jack and Ashi in their journey. The second one will join them in the next chapter, but the last one won’t until Arc 2. It’s for the story and character development, sorry. But Cassius is by far the most detailed I had imagined and will have an important backstory, as you probably picked up and are now guessing. I am really bad at drawing and am only starting to take online tutorials, and even then it will probably still be bad, but I’m thinking of doing a design for Cassius and uploading it to my tumblr @psychicdan, where my other Renegade Samurai stuff is. But have you played Fallout New Vegas, where the Courier is wearing that NCR Ranger Armor? Yeah, Cassius’s design was inspired heavily by that, plus the descriptions I left in the chapter, his helmet has bigger eye googles and his trench coat being faded black instead of brown. It also takes some inspiration from the Drifter from Hyper Light Drifter, mainly the sword, because that was cool too. In fact, I sort of imagined the design before Renegade Samurai, it just came back to me when I was thinking up a mercenary character for the story. Also, let me confirm that Chlodwig is German, no I’m not racist, just wanted to make another character that was sort of SJ style. Hey, that episode with the bounty hunters had a big muscleman Russian named Boris, no one batted an eye then, huh? Also, let it be known I do not hate dogs, have two myself, and no actual dogs were hurt in the making of this chapter. I don’t speak German either, I seriously used Google translate, so go easy on me. Now before you leave, if it’s not much trouble, if you liked the story, please leave a like, comment, or review. I like making this story, but I do feel insecure sometimes. I’d like to know how people feel about the story and what could have been better so I can reflect and think in new angles and bring a better story for everyone. Hope this doesn’t come across as desperate. Now, the next chapter will include both a new OC and a joke villain I plan to bring up again once or twice. His shtick? Death metal. So, yeah, let me know what you thought and leave a like if you liked, thanks.

#samurai jack #renegade samurai #fanfic #chapter

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