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b4rbi3l4nd · 2 years ago

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SOS — i might kill my ex

Alr y'all, third chapter is OFFICIALY OUTT, thank you all again for all the love shown on the previous chapters, I will make a masterlist after the fifth chapter so keep an eye out on that. I'm thinking of starting oneshots and imagines but i don't know if y'all want me to wait till i finish SOS or not 😭 cuz i can pop out a new chapter pretty much every 2-3 days. Tell me what y'all want and I'll provide but anyways, enjoy!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋

GIF by mandalor-din

series summary: you broke up with shuri a few years ago and left wakanda for good until namor. now that he's killed the queen and multiple wakandan civilians, he's seen as a great threat and as former second in command at shuri's lab and wakanda's loyal warrior it is your duty to return and fight for your country. but a certain somebody makes the mission way too hard to deal with.

episode summary: you thought you died but unfortunately, you didn't and now you're being kept hostage in prison. another attack on Wakanda ensues which tests your loyalty to your country vs your sanity. eventually, you're put on trial for treason and in court, things take an unfortunate twist of events

genre: ANGST, slow, slow, slow burn

pairing: shuri x black fem reader

episode warnings: mature dialogue, cursing, trauma, shouting, mentions of death, suicide, missing people etc. this is a series. you are currently looking at the third chapter of the series, please go to my profile to read the previous chapters before continuing (if you haven't read the other chapters yet, if so, please continue)

taglist: @yvxmpire, @sweetalittleselfish-honey, @xxmilli, @queenofsimpsblog, @ziayamikaelson, @shuriislut, @atssukoo, @widowmakker, @cuddl3s4shur1, @n7cje, @ts1mp0ne

proofread?: no but if there are errors then it's grammarly's fault.

word count: girl idfk

inspirations: 'SOS' — SZA

song: 'Kill Bill' — SZA

send your thoughts and requests

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Your eyes dart open and you gasp for air.

"Calm down, calm down."

You hear a voice talking to you but it's muffled. It's like you're underwater. You're coughing and gasping, breathing heavy. It takes you almost a minute till the feeling washes away.

Slowing down you're breathing you look around, realizing you're sitting on the floor in a black room. You lift your hands up and the sounds of chains fill the room, same as your legs. You're in a cell but not just any cell, the cell.

You sigh. They only put the worst criminals in these cells and for some reason, you were put here. You know exactly why though. Shuri, or Malia. One of those bastards got you here.

You look to your left to see Nakia standing on the other side of the cell. It was like there was nothing in front of you, dividing you between you and her but you knew there was an invisible vibranium wall there that pushed anything back that approached it with maximum force.

And you know that because

you built it.

"So what's the trend now? Put me in my own creation? You guys know that I know how to get out of here right?" You say, tugging at the chains and Nakia sighed.

"This isn't the cell you created...Malia created it."

It takes you a minute before you laugh out loud. You're actually genuinely laughing but then you looked at Nakia and it ceased.

"Seriously? That dumb bimbo actually does stuff around here?" You say surprised as Nakia looks at you sternly.

"Don't call her that, she is going to be our queen one day."

"Why does everyone keep saying that-"

"Shuri confirmed it."

Your eyes widened at this and you looked at her like she was crazy.

"What?"

"Shuri...she wants to marry her." Nakia finished, leaving you speechless.

"No!" You stand up abruptly, lunging to get outside of the cell but reality pulls you back, literally. The chains tightened and you're sent flying until your back hits the wall you were just resting on. You slump down with a thud.

You weren't jealous that Malia and Shuri were going to get married. Okay, maybe a little bit. But you were more concerned that Wakanda was going to fall and you knew this because if Malia got her hands on that crown, so would Namor.

"Nakia, you can't let her do that, there's something I need to tell you, tell all of you-" You started but she cut you off.

"I'm not even supposed to be here..but Y/N...why would you do this to yourself" She looked at you sympathetically like she wanted to cry. Nakia was one of your closest friends, like a sister to you. She took a deep breath then paused, hearing some footsteps before putting her hand to her lips and walking in the opposite direction.

As soon as she disappeared out of sight, a new woman stepped in.

You scoffed at the sight and turned your head to the side.

"You can act coy all you want but you're at my mercy now."

Shuri.

You turned back to face her as she moved her kimoyo beads across the vibranium border. A small patch opened up and she dropped a tray of food through it before closing it once again.

You watched it clatter on the floor, some food pieces spilling out.

"Eat." She said as she sat down on a stool across from your room cell.

"I'd rather die, just kill me now. I don't want to be alive when you make a fool of yourself at that altar." You narrow your eyes at her and she scoffed.

"Why do hate my fiancee?" Shuri asked and you paused before sitting up straight.

"Fiancee? How long was I passed out?"

"2 weeks." She said, shrugging as your eyes widened. "You slipped off the window and fell from the 20th floor, once you hit the floor, everyone thought you were dead. You rolled off into the water and stayed below there for about 20 minutes till you were eventually found. You momentarily died."

You looked at her face, she had no sign of a sympathetic expression or even an expression at all.

"Why did you save me then.."

"I didn't." She almost looked offended that you assumed and you let out a shaky breath. "Riri did, she did everything in her power to save you, then you were put in a coma and now you're awake. Congrats."

You blinked back tears and looked down.

"So you really don't care?"

"The Crown" and "Euphoria" reference...more like dialogue coming in. Disclaimer, I took some dialogue from these shows and put it in the chapter. Some parts are mine, some are directly from the show, but I don't own the ones from the show so yea.

"You're no longer my priority Y/N. You haven't been for years." Shuri stood up, walking over to your cell, standing right in front of you. "I have way more important people to worry about."

"Who are you referring to?"

"Malia."

"Why would I care about her?!" You said, raising your voice slightly.

"BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT HER!" She screamed at you, causing you to look up at her with a frown on your face. "MORNING NOON AND NIGHT, I CARE ABOUT HER!" She paused, taking a deep sigh. "And you hurt her. And if you hurt her...you hurt me." She turned around and started walking away only to stop and then look at you. "Malia is who I want, that is where my loyalties lie. That is who my priority is."

"Not the woman who's suffered, bled, and sacrificed so much for you?"

"Don't bring the family into this."

"Alright. NOT THE WOMAN YOU PROPOSED TO?! THE WOMAN WHO STUCK IT OUT FOR YOU, THE WOMAN WHO ACTUALLY KNOWS YOU AND YOUR FAMILY?! THE WOMAN WHO WAS THERE WHEN YOUR FATHER DIED?! DO YOU REMEMBER HUH? REMEMBER YOUR THOUGHTS?! I LOST SLEEP FOR YOU, EVERY DAY I WAS WONDERING IF YOU WERE GOING TO COMMIT AND I'D NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN. THE WOMAN WHO CARRIED YOUR CHILD?! The woman who loves you..."

You whispered the last parts as Shuri just shook her head, looking off to side.

"No...you fucking left me..when I fucking needed you.." She turned over to you, pointing at you with tears in her eyes. "You fucking left me...when I was at my fucking low- ha..." She couldn't even finish her words because she was starting to tear up and cry. She turned around and took breaths in, sniffing.

Your tears started to fall as you took in what she said.

"You fucking left me...at my FUCKING lowest...and a real fucking girlfriend, someone who loves you wouldn't do some shit like that Y/N!"

"Really? What is this now, pin the blame on the donkey?!" You voiced out through your sobs. "Don't act all innocent now." You breathed in, your voice starting to crack, your breathing getting heavy.

"My dad.." you started. "He's gone." Those words were more a whisper. "He's gone and he's gone because of YOU!"

"Remember those weapons you gave him...huh?! Said it would help him better in combat? DO YOU FUCKING REMEMBER?!" You screamed at her, moving your hands up but the chains held you down.

"IT BLEW UP IN HIS FUCKING FACE SHURI!"

"It was still in testing..." she started.

"YOU GAVE HIM YOUR WORD! You promised..."

"And you wanna know how I found out that my father died Shuri? THROUGH A FUCKING EMAIL. WHAT KINDA SHIT IS THAT HUH?! TELL ME! WHAT KINDA SHIT IS THAT?!" You bit your lip hard as you tired to steady your breaths.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye...."

As you recalled your last encounter with your father, it was more of an angry one. He was angry that you were leaving Wakanda and you guys got into a huge fight.

"Y/N...you disappoint me, daughter."

Those words hit you like spears to the heart, and they still do now. You've always been a daddy's girl, he loved you so, so much and the fact that those were his last words to you, broke your heart.

"My little brother..." You started again as Shuri folded her lips, trying not to cry.

"He's gone. I don't know where he is Shuri. He was just 13, he was still a KID!" You were now coughing, the tears overtaking you, blurring your vision.

"They took him. And you swore. You swore to EVERYONE that you and T'Challa would bring him back. You swore to my mother...you swore to my father...you swore to me. You gave me your word. You promised me...and you broke it. That was 6 years ago. But hey, I still stuck beside you didn't I?" Your voice was breaking at that point. You were just 16 when he was taken from your family.

"And then our child, Bast bless their heart."

This one got you both, you both turned around, and you didn't even have the strength to continue. Your sobs filled the room. You were only 20 when you found out you were pregnant, Shuri was 21.

Shuri was still suffering from the death of her father and then getting engulfed with her lab work, it just wasn't working out between you guys.

When you broke the news to her, it was a celebration. Everyone was happy but 2 weeks and it blew over. The stress from all your problems at Wakanda and in your relationship caused a miscarriage.

Shuri didn't speak to you after that, she barely slept in the apartment and she was always working in the lab. There were days when she even had the Dora restrict you from entering the lab because you were a 'distraction.'

You couldn't take it anymore and left that year. It was the same year that you also discovered her. You swore to yourself you'd never be back here and now 4 years later, chained up like a prisoner.

"My queen, there has been an attack at the border."

These words pulled you away from your thoughts as you saw Shuri quickly wipe her tears and follow the warriors who had informed you guys of this news.

"What?!" You started breathing heavily. You're from the border tribe, your family is over there but most importantly, your father's grave that you still hadn't visited yet.

"HEY! NO!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, pulling your arms and legs away at the chains but they didn't resist.

You took deep breaths, your mind wandering over to your father once again, your eyes swelling up.

"Bast please..."

You muttered under your breath before standing up. Almost as if on cue, the chains broke and the vibranium wall gave way and you walked out of your cell.

Wasting no time, you ran up the stairs and up into a dark hallway. Fuck, you don't remember your way around here. You started racing down the hallway, feeling the walls and looking for exits. Eventually, you felt a body behind you.

"AH!" You turn around surprised to see a phone light point right at you.

"Hey, hey! It's okay, I'm here to help you.." A voice said reassuringly.

As the phone lowered, you squinted your eyes to see it was Riri.

"Come with me,"

She took your hand and rushed you out of the hallway and into a mini door. Once you shuffled through, you found yourself back in the lab.

"When did they build that.."

"Malia did." Riri said as she walked over to a table with some tools.

You clenched your teeth but you had no time to reminisce on her. You had people to protect. You looked over to the window to see a huge puff of smoke at the border and then water flooding in, people running around, cattle trampling some people down, some kids shouting for their parents.

I started walking over to the door but Riri stopped me.

"Hey! Where are you going? We have to stay inside, this is dangerous."

"Riri, I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown and honestly, I think I might assassinate a whole country if I don't get there fast enough to see what I need to see."

You exited the building, almost getting run over by some people frantically running around. You ignored everything and made your way over to the border, running, practically sprinting over there. It didn't even feel like your feet were touching the ground.

Once you made it over there, your eyes landed on the now flooded graves. You slowly walked over to them, your eyes widening as you noticed your father's name on one of the tombstones.

It was still standing but one more push and it would fall over. Your eyes filled with tears as you slowly dropped to your knees.

"Dad..?"

You got on all 4s, your hands frantically searching the ground for the part of the ground where he was buried. In Wakanda, there was normally indicators on the ground but none. This wasn't even where his grave originally was.

"No...No, No, NO! DAD! AGH!" You grabbed his tombstone and screamed out of agony. He was gone. You don't even know where his body was buried, you don't even know if it's washed up or not. All you know is that he's gone.

More screams followed as you hugged the tombstone.

"WHAT IS SHE DOING HERE?!" You heard Shuri but you couldn't care.

Your sobs and screams of frustration blocked out any bit of dialogue. You felt a hand on your shoulder but that's when you lost it.

You fell over and screamed so loud, purple rays of energy just came bursting out of your body. Everywhere. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see people get thrown back, flying. Some nearby houses collapsed, even some of the water reversed in direction.

And then you collapsed and blacked out, water slowly filling up your lungs once more.

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You woke up to your entire body chained down to the floor. You cough out, some sputters of blood landing on your body bag.

"Take it easy.." You hear a voice say

"You cry in your sleep.." Another voice adds on.

You immediately realize who the voices belonged to. The first was Nakia, the second Riri.

Your lips were beyond dry and you felt drained and weak. That's right, you haven't eaten or drunk anything for weeks, how are you still alive? Because of her.

You turn around to see Nakia, Shuri, and Riri all sitting down, looking at you.

"Y/N you need to eat...please." Nakia begged. You looked at the ground in front of you, there was a fresh plate of jollof rice with plantains and chicken with 2 full bottles of water next to it.

Tempting, but no. You were going to wait it out.

"I don't plan on being here long." You sigh out, looking up, knowing damn well the minute they left you alone, you'd devour it. No matter how angry you are, they're crazy if they think you're going to pass up food, especially your favorite.

"But even if I wanted to eat it, I can't. I'm chained down. Why-"

"Because you're a threat." Shuri said, finally looking up and leaning on her stool. She had a furious look on her face. "What the hell was that out there huh?"

You looked at her like she was crazy, your breaths getting heavier as you tried to remember and collect yourself before sighing. "Oh..."

"Do you have powers? That was some intense shit." Riri said, leaning in slightly as you looked down.

You didn't say anything before Shuri finally spoke out.

"That's what you did to Malia too, wasn't it."

"I didn't touch her." You said annoyed, looking up. That was technically correct. You didn't touch her, she did. The one living in you. It was..complicated.

"Really? Because when you were examined, we found this in your pocket." Shuri said, taking out Malia's phone from her pocket.

"It's a good thing her phone is waterproof. You would've ruined everything on here. Like you always do." Shuri spoke the last part lowly.

You chose to ignore it, you were too tired to argue with her, but you had a point to get across.

"I'm sure she would've loved that.." You mutter under your breath.

"And why exactly is that?" Shuri asked, pretending to be interested in what you're going to say.

"Your girlfriend isn't who she says she is." You start but Shuri rolled her eyes. "She's-"

"I don't want to hear it Y/N, save it for court." She says but your eyes bulge.

"What..? Court?" Confused, you look around as Nakia's head falls.

"You've been charged for treason." Riri informs sadly as you look between the 3 women.

"What?! WHY?!" No one responded and you looked at Shuri, an impatient and demanding look on your face. "What did you do?! WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"ASK YOURSELF THAT Y/N!" Shuri shouts back at you. She sighed, disgusted as she tapped on her kimoyo beads and then dragged her finger from them, over to the vibranium border between you and the women.

A video played on screen. A video of you, whispering something and then your chains breaking. A video of you, searching in agony for your father's grave while screaming "NO". A video of you, screaming while holding onto the tombstone as purple radiations of energy burst through your body, sending EVERYTHING in your way, even water, flying back.

Shuri paused exactly at that moment as she fast-forwarded to when you passed out. Your mother ran over to you, picking you up and rushing you over to safety but in the background of the video, you could see all the damage you had caused.

"Jesus." Nakia whispered under her breath.

"How did you do that.." Shuri asked you as you whimpered.

You never liked to recall how this comes out of you. You don't like to remember how it happened. You normally keep it deep down and try to forget but it always comes out.

Shuri just exhaled sharply and started walking away before pausing. "Your court hearing is in a week, sharp. Don't be late. We'll decide whether to exile you or execute you." She then turned away and walked up the stairs until she was out of sight.

"Y/N..." Riri started but you looked up at her, your eyebrows furrowed and your face full of determination to be heard.

"No. I will speak and you will listen. Malia isn't who she says she is."

"We know you don't like her...but she's going to be the queen of Wakanda in a possibly few months." Nakia started but you cut her off.

"No, listen to me. Her father is Namor."

This caught the women's attention as they looked at each other and then at you.

"I swear to Bast, I'm not crazy. The day that she was attacked, her phone. I saw her phone on the ground, She was texting her dad and Shuri and Wakanda was in the conversation. They're planning to kill her, you, me, every last one of us. They had childhood pictures and everything. We have to get rid of her."

Nakia closed her eyes before nodding. She understood you. If someone asked her to describe you, she'd use multiple words but she'll never use crazy. You've always knew what you were talking about.

"Riri get your laptop, we're hacking into that motherfucker's phone. If I'm dying in court, she's dying with me"

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Mood.

You walked in the hallways, wearing all white. All white suit, all white nails, hair, makeup. In Wakanda, white is worn to funerals and that was the exact mood you were giving. It's a funeral bitch and everybody's getting buried.

Riri was on your right, Nakia on your left. The Dora Milaje noticed you and opened the doors to the throne room. It was divided like a court room, as always. The chairs, the podium, the desks and the seats for the jury. The judge was on both sides of the throne which Shuri sat upon.

M'Baku, Okoye and Malia were all in the jury as you stepped up to take your position behind the desk.

"Y/N Amadi. Daughter of late Chief Ndozhna Amadi of the Border Tribe." An elder began. "And former fiancee to the present queen of Wakanda, you have been charged with treason for the destruction of property and unexplainable occurrences, thus giving the enemy an upper hand in battle. How do you plea?"

You looked at the jury, M'Baku and Okoye looking with sympathetic looks towards you. Your eyes focus on Malia, she looks straight ahead, confident with a smirk on her face. You can't wait to wipe that stupid look off her dumb face. You look straight ahead, your eyes focusing on Shuri and her body language.

She was wearing all black, as opposed to you. She was sitting in a man spread, relaxing in her throne. Your eyes met and you guys held intense eye contact. She leaned away from you, looking at you like you were one of the low people. You turn back to the elder and judges, speaking on the mic.

"Guilty. On my own admission."

Everyone gasped but you chuckled to yourself, your eyes closing momentarily as you looked down, to the side and then back up.

"But I'm not the one who should be standing here tonight.

"I know all your secrets, Malia McKenzie..or should I say Tzultacaj, daughter of K'uk'ulkan also known as...Namor."

Whispering filled the room before it ultimately fell silent, all eyes landing on Malia.

Immediately her face dropped, a panicked expression once replacing a confident one.

"I- I- I- I don't know what she's talking about.." She stuttered nervously, placing a smile on her face that constantly dropped.

"What you're looking at now." You say and on cue, Riri pulled up all the receipts, the pictures, messages everything. "Are conversations and evidence between Tzultacaj and her father, furthermore proving that she is the enemy and I was right, once again."

The texts talking about overthrowing and killing Shur all bold and highlighted.

"What do you plea?" You ask boldly, looking her dead in the fact. You had won. A few moments of silence filled the room as Malia looked down, tears escaping her eyes.

"Don't cry now bitch, own it. Own that shit. You played yourself, congratulations." You add onto your previous statement, a smile leaving your lips, showcasing some tooth gems you had put on that morning.

A phone call between Malia and Namor filled the silence of the room, replacing her sobs.

Namor: And what is the best way to get in daughter?

Malia: Out back, don't go for the water borders, if you really want to surprise them you're going to have to get on land. They give me a lot of crazy and information around here it's crazy.

They shared laughs as Namor continued.

Namor: And how is your girlfriend?

Malia: Fiancee now. We're getting married soon. Once I get that crown, you make your move. I got her exactly where I wanted.

Namor: You got it?

Malia: Yup.

You turned to Shuri who looked enraged at this information. Her chest heaving, moving up and down rapidly with each breath.

"Malia is this true?" She asked, looking at her girlfriend enraged who immediately broke.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry baby, I- I just didn't want to want to disappoint my daddy and my country and...I ended up falling in love with you, I love you so much baby please.." She sobbed and cried.

Immediately, Okoye stood up, along with a few other Dora Milaje warriors and they handcuffed her, holding her in place.

"Sedate her." Shuri said coldly.

"NO! NO! NO, NO, BABY PLEASE!" Malia screamed and thrashed around, more warriors joining in to hold her down.

Eventually, they had her head down on the table. Your mother was handed the syringe and as she was about to inject it in your neck, she paused.

Her hand slowly lowered as her eyes widened. She slowly reached her hand out, placing it on Malia.

"What are you waiting for?!" Shuri asked impatiently. "SEDATE HER."

Your mother shook her head. "I'm sorry your highness I cannot do that for the woman..."

"is with child."

She reached her hand out to touch Malia's stomach and your face immediately dropped.

"What?"

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302 notes · View notes

patpranism · 3 years ago

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patpran marvel cinematic universe au

listen i know i still need to post that patpran star wars au but somehow this happened. bear in mind that i'm not a writer and it's been years since i write so please ignore the grammar errors :"D or any other errors since i haven't proofread it yet. anyway, let's go! pls be nice to me my feelings are fragile </3

Patpran mcu au (ignore the canon timeline please haha)

Patpran mcu au where Pran is the tired insurance agent working at an insurance company under Stark Industries, the Guardian Insurance and Pat is the unluckiest guy in the city who is always the victim whenever the Avengers save the day.

And somehow Pran will always be the guy who answered his call (Pran used to hate this Pat Napat Jindapat guy because why is he always calling when the working hours is about to end, it annoys Pran even more that he has A LOT to claim so he will be one of the unlucky agent who leave the office after working hours and listen, he might be tired but he’s not that heartless to ignore the calls. He knows how tiresome it is when your car suddenly gets thrown to the space by the Hulk, he has experienced it first-hand. It’s not fun).

The keyword is he used to.

“Thank you for calling the Guardian Insurance. My name is Pran Parakul and how can I help you today?” Pran picks up the call, activating his insurance agent voice tone. He winces when he hears things crashing in the background of the caller. There’s also a roar- ah must be the Hulk then.

“Hello there Pran!” The caller sounds oddly cheerful but it’s not a surprise. He's always happy. “It’s Pat again and I want to file claims under the Avengers Coverage please. My new car doesn’t look like a car anymore- I just witnessed Hulk using it to fight these flying aliens- he threw it at them and they’re somehow still alive. What do they eat in space-”

He then heard Pat winced.

“Shit. Thor just fried my car with his thunder. It’s toasted now.”

“How come you are always there Pat?” Pran sighs as he types in Pat’s policy number. Yes, he can already memorize it by now but it’s the first time where he doesn’t ask Pat for the details. “The last time you called was 4 days ago, it was about how your apartment was destroyed because a rocket blasted through it and now this? You’re so unlucky that I would advise you to take the new insurance package- we cover everything there. The Avengers have new members now with a much higher risk so the premium would be higher but hey it’s worth it.” He says seriously as he fills in Pat’s details.

“I love it when you talk about insurance. You really sound like you know your stuff and that is so attractive to me.” Pat replies cheekily. “It’s working by the way. I will sign up for the package later. Better safe than sorry.”

Pran has to bite his inner cheek to prevent himself from screaming. If he has a crush on Pat, a guy whom he has never met before- they’ve only talked on phone! when he’s working! then no one has to know. “Pat, it’s my job. I have to know my stuff.”

He ignores the butterflies in his stomach.

“Okay so I have filled in your details and the claim will start processing tomorrow since it’s already so late when you called.”

“Awww Pran.” Pat coos. “You remember my details? You didn’t even ask this time- I was honestly waiting for it.”

Pran rubs his forehead and lets out a sigh. Pat really needs to stop sounding so cute over the phone. It’s testing Pran’s sanity. “Pat, you’re our regular customer and let me remind you, somehow it’s always me who answers your call.”

“Magic isn’t it? How is it always you huh? I guess I can thank Dr. Strange for that.” Pat giggles. “All that wizard stuff.”

“Yeah and don’t forget to thank him too for cutting your car in half when he closed his magic portal 6 months ago.” Pran rolls his eyes. “and when he dropped the dead alien's head in the middle of the road, right in front of you which gave you a heart attack and you fainted a year ago. You’re lucky your current package covers the medical part.”

“You remembered that too!” he heard Pat gasping loudly, hurting his ears.

“Shh! Talk slower.” He hushes Pat as he waves awkwardly to his coworker who’s leaving the office. He cranes his neck to look around the office and guess what. He’s the only one left and it’s 30 minutes to six. He remembers complaining to Wai this evening, moaning about how tired he is since Loki decides to bring in even more aliens today- and the calls were nonstop. Apparently, the Eternals are also busy today dealing with the Deviants so that means more calls from people to claim their insurance under the Eternals package.

But talking to Pat makes him feel so refreshed. Pat is actually the only customer who never gets mad or lash out his feelings and tiredness at him whenever he wants to file some claim. He is always so cheerful when talking with Pran- unlike the other customers who give him a headache. He understands why they’re mad but there’s also a limit when they can’t stop lashing out at him- especially when they find out their package doesn’t cover certain claims. It’s not Pran’s fault! He tried explaining to them before about their insurance package but they would just ignore him.

“Of course I do.” Pran mutters slowly. “You called here asking if a handsome guy in a red cloak that can also fly on its own is an Avenger because you have never seen him before. You didn’t sound that mad either that you ended up at the hospital for the alien head.”

“Why would I be mad? They’re too busy saving the city to care about these details but they really should care more about it by the way. The insurance cost a lot and I’m fortunate enough to have extra money for the monthly premiums.” Pat complains. “I have to pay for my sister’s insurance too since she’s still in college and I’m just grateful she’s not as unfortunate as me. The only time she had to make a claim was when Captain America’s shield dent her car.”

“You were not mad when you called here too. Believe me, you’re the only one who calls and doesn’t start screaming when we answer.” Pran laughs quietly. “That makes you very memorable.”

and adorable, but Pran keeps it to himself.

“Huh? Why should I be mad at you? You’re just doing your job and you help me with my claims. People should be more grateful actually.”

God, Pat really likes- no scratch that, he’s really in love with Pat and it feels so ridiculous.

“Well then let’s pray more people are like you Pat Napat Jindapat.” Pran sighs, praying for it to become a reality one day. "It will save me from this unnecessary headache."

They stay quiet for a while after that but it was a comfortable silence. There’s no awkwardness here and Pran wants to drown himself in the comfortableness. He doesn’t even hear the fighting in the background anymore- either Pat has walked away from there or the fight is taking place somewhere else now.

Pat is the first one to break the silence.

“Hey Pran.” He calls out- he sounds nervous and Pran takes notice of it. “Are you.. perhaps free tomorrow night?”

Pran’s eyes widened. He can’t be asking-

“If you’re free then would you like to have dinner with me? It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with it. I know we’ve only been talking through the phone during your working hours so-“

Pran cuts him off. “Are you asking me out, like, like on a date? Is this a date?”

“Yes. Like a date.” He heard Pat exhales nervously. “I’m asking you out on a date with me tomorrow night. So…. would you like to?”

Pran really can’t believe this is happening to him. Holy shit.

“Yes! Of course, I would love to!” he answers too excitedly for his own liking but who cares! Pat is asking him out!

“Great!" Pat heaves a sigh of relief. "Just text me your address later- you already know my number, so I can pick you up tomorrow but I’ll use Paa’s car because well. You know me, I’m very unlucky today.”

“Sure Pat. I’ll do that later.” Pran lets out a laugh before telling Pat he actually can’t wait to meet the most unfortunate guy in the city.

“Are you sure I am THAT unfortunate?” Pat teases Pran. “Hmmmm because I’m feeling pretty lucky today that the sexy and attractive insurance agent Pran Parakul actually agreed to go out on a date with me tomorrow night.”

This guy-

“You’re so annoying you know that right?” Pran chuckles. “I’m ending the call now. The company will kill me if they find out I’m using the company’s phone to talk to you. It’s almost 45 minutes.”

“Well, tell them I’m one of the reasons your company is still relevant. Without me, who’s a very cursed person, the Guardian Insurance would be out of business by now.”

Pran can’t stop grinning from ear to ear as he bids his goodbye to Pat, promising him that he will text his address tonight.

As he packs his things, he thinks- he really has to send gifts to Dr. Banner and Thor by the way because without them destroying Pat’s car today, he would never experience this. Heck, he might even have to send gifts to the whole Avengers- he doesn’t know if he can send gifts to Asgard, but he swears he will find a way. For once, it’s a good day to live in this chaotic city. The Avengers really save the day today.

#bad buddy #bad buddy the series #patpran #patpran au #patpran mcu au #patpran fic #iqa writes #nanon korapat #ohm pawat #this is my first time writing for patpran pls be nice #im not a writer so it might be very bad for you guys but honestly. i just want patpran mcu au so im making one myself #i also want that star wars au patpran but that one is a bit angst so its taking more time for me to be in the right mood to write

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lazywriters-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Worse case scenario

Yandere tartaglia/childe [reader insert]

Warning: Mentions of kidnapping, slight development of stockholm syndrome, sensitive reader, unhealthy behaviour, isolation, forced marriage, mild NSFW, poor reader is confused.. kinda like a part 2 to home sweet home.

Sorry for any errors present in advance!

Summary: After recovering from a bad fever, you're starting to feel a little unhinged, but isolation surely can't be that bad right? Since you've never gone outside for 5 months. It's like you are not affected by it.

You wonder if it's okay to feel this way.

There's this overwhelming.. feeling that no matter how much you attempt to dominate it, it just remains, lingering, trying to control your every thought and speech. Having a strong sense of emotions can both be beneficial and disadvantageous, it makes you feel things.. on a larger scale, guess that's what makes you so sensitive. Maybe that's why you were avoided due to your frequent overreaction. It's not your fault, it's just how you were made, and you are not ashamed for it, even though you've been made to feel bad about it, from time to time.

Surely isolating yourself from social interactions wouldn't be so bad, since you barely even talk, just a pretty doll that can follow you around, and speak when needed. You wonder, if this ordeal your in could be detrimental to your mental state, confined, in a attractive room with everything you might need, it's basically just how you lived before your inevitable capture, nothing's really changed except for the new environment and rather frightening group of malicious people, who were ordered to stay watch just so you don't try to escape, by none other than their lovesick leader.

At the start of it, you got sick from all the stressful events, and forced to swallow down a dozens of pills just because you refused to take any, for a good reason, and even so, after you've somewhat calmed down, you're beginning to think this is no different than your usual line of living, or you are starting to adjust to your environment, perhaps worse developing a Stockholm syndrome. Even though, this should affect you brutally, nothing's changed, you've gotten used to not talking at all, given this was how you were even before your kidnap. Is something wrong with you? Are you taking all this in a wrong way? You just can't know for sure, are you starting to lose your sense of rationality, or are you just too confused to understand.. anything.

Reading books was never a problem, nowadays books are what keep you company, other than the usually check ups by ordered maids, you've never really developed a friendship with anyone, fearing you might involve them in a dangerous position, this guy who calls himself 'childe' seems like a troublesome person, troubled mind and manipulative tactics, from what you've witnessed so far, he's not easy to fool or deceive, but does seem like a guy who would get irrational in moments of desperation, or thrill. You are uncertain whether his innocent loving, and teasing persona is true or not, you can understand and relate to his tactics in a way, ignorance is bliss they say, and feigning ignorance might be the best course of action, if you want your sanity to be reserved. This man has seen things you would never want to witness, he's been through things you could never imagine. How else can he be so ruthless?

You wonder if he can read your face, you don't wanna look into his eyes, or even look at his face, he frightens you, and you don't know why. Pretending a neutral facade is your speciality, unless things go south real quick it breaks, but you can be good at keeping your emotions bound. Bottling it up to be specific. He chuckles, his fingers climbing on top of yours, caressing the ring that circles your finger, you can hear his breath, drawing nearer steadily, this moment is heart pounding, not in a good way. "I like it when you're so vulnerable around me." He speaks, fondness soaking into his eyes, "this way, we have nothing to hide." He grins, squeezing your hand. You take a deep breath mentally, finally gathering the courage to look up, and still you just can't bring yourself to look into his eyes for more than a second, "I didn't know you were so shy, love.."

"How was your trip?" You asked, eager to change the topic. "Oh.. the same old, nothing new. Forget about me, I wanna know what you did without me around. Surely you didn't try anything naughty, right?"

"No. I didn't do anything other than reading books and waiting." You replied. "Oh! Waiting for me? That's so.. cute, you're finally coming around!" He smiles wide, his face inches apart from you. His eyes now closer than you'd like, this is making you anxious. "Yeah.." you gave a weak smile.

"Nobody's troubling you, right?" You quickly shake your head, looking down at your laps, uncomfortably. Hoping he wouldn't take note of your nervous mannerisms. "Good." He said. He settles his hand on your cheeks, softly caressing your soft skin. "You've been taking care of yourself- that's great." He mumbled. For a moment, it's quiet, eerily quiet. You can hear your heartbeat at this rate.

Hearing him shuffle forces you to look up, just in time to feel his lips grab a hold of yours, pushing your faces closer, you feel him hungrily rub his lips, and you can't help but feel disgusted, before it could escalate, you push him away, words already coming out of your mouth unfiltered. "No. I told you we won't do anything intimate until we're married, didn't I?" You retorted, feeling somewhat violated.

"Sorry! I just couldn't help myself!" He laughs, that playfully glint in his eyes says otherwise. He's testing you.. how easily can you be swayed by sexual desires? He sure likes to toy with people, and you are no exception. You hate this about him, you wish to get outside, away from this pscoypath but don't know how, there's no way you could escape with this level of security and craze. You'd like to think you can, but.. you don't think he's going to let up even after that. He's dangerously interested in you, you can see that, how unhinged and overbearing he becomes when you come into view. He likes you, a lot. But not the good kind.

"Geez relax! I promise I won't do anything. Really! So then... when should we hold the marriage hm? How about tomorrow?" He smiles, and it doesn't seem like he's joking. "Tomorrow..?" You mutter.

"Yeah, we could! The sooner the better right?"

"But.. how is that even possible, preparations will at least take a couple of days-" childe grins, pressing his finger on your lips to silence you. "Shh Shh- you needn't worry. It's not impossible! Besides I always like pushing pass my limits."

Dread is all you can feel, it's too much to think about, your mind just abandoned you, and you can't think of another comeback to save your skin.

"Well then, shall we get started?"

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corpsentry · 5 years ago

Text

behind the taylor swift gundam was in fact another, smaller gundam: a brief inquiry into the events of june 2020

so back in june this year june and i got together and we made this motherfucker of a story with this motherfucker of a thread to keep track of it all. but you already know that! and i’ve already got one foot and three elbows in my grave, so i’ll spare you the long-winded stuff. you wanna know how i wrote 93,035 words in 4 weeks? i’ll tell you how i wrote 93,035 words in 4 weeks-

-by linking you guys to copies of my planning documents because i feel like those words speak louder than any words i can offer in the present day. these are long documents. but they are also historical artifacts. very interesting. very weird. very, uh, full of cussing. so anyway, here’s

BIG DADDY: THE ORIGINAL PLANNING DOCUMENT

for those, like me, who have no motivation left in life to do anything and rely on summaries from others to acquire new knowledge, it all started with a single line.

prince of a fallen kingdom atsumu tries to kill hinata but falls in love with him instead

june, april something, 2020

with that in mind i tested the concept out with a few paragraphs of text, which you can find at the bottom of the Big Daddy document in the graveyard segment, accidentally sold my soul to the image of hinata with epaulettes, and then worked backwards, structuring an entire plot around two images:

a) hinata getting the shit beat out of him, with snark b) hinata and atsumu dancing in an empty ballroom under the stars

if you want a betrayal, you have to have something worth losing. if you want to fall in love with someone you don’t know, you have to meet them. if you have to meet them, there has to be a reason for that meeting, and so somewhere in between atsumu became a sword instructor and hinata the prince with daddy issues. june and i used this method of glancing anxiously over your shoulder to see what you’d missed to fill out the blanks in the story, after which i tacked up a bunch of post-its, typed out the plot, consulted june, typed out the plot again, and then broke the characters down into a bunch of questions, like ‘what do they want?’ and ‘what do they have?’ and ‘what are they afraid of?’

with the plot more or less ironed out, i decided it was time to start writing, and then i decided that i was actually too scared to start writing after all, so instead i set a couple of timers using classroomtimers.com (15-20 minutes long) and i sat down and i wrote about the world that hinata and atsumu inhabited.

each warm-up was 300-500 words long, and for the first few days, i’d write one before getting into writing the story proper. later these evolved into simply picking a scene from the story and launching straight into it, which became useful for opening those scenes later when i got to them organically.

then i got lazy! so i stopped. but these shitty little exercises were really useful for me because, unfettered by plot, convention, or any kind of tradition hovering over my shoulder, i was able to fuck around loosely enough to realize what i wanted this story to be. it was a very contrived kind of trial-and-error, an exploration of the characters, the story, but most importantly, the tone.

RESEARCH, PLANNING, AND VICTORIAN BOUGIE FASHION

this is a loose map of the castle and Important Locations within it, which i drew up at the start so i could keep track of where everything was and how i could get my characters from point A to point B. i wanted the story to have Some kind of internal logic, you know, even if that logic amounted to ‘a compass would function normally in this world whereas kageyama tobio would not’.

99% of my planning and organizing within those five weeks took place in this lovely dotted cat journal which my sister gave me for my birthday and i repurposed into a metaphorical Diary of Suffering while working on juno. i used it for everything from keeping track of narrative threads to clothing consistency checks, but the main purpose was this: each day at about 10 pm i’d crack open the cat book to a fresh page, stamp the date and the day of suffering at the top, and then write down a list of things i wanted to write, address, or fix today. then i’d sit at my laptop and write like a madman until about 7 in the morning. with breaks, of course, for sitting in the bathroom and staring at the wall and sitting in the kitchen and staring at the wall, but mostly i was writing. and complaining about writing. you were there, you probably remember that.

anyway, here are some pages from the cat book.

aside from the fact that my handwriting is complete shit, you can see that i made zero effort for any of this to be presentable. it was mainly a way for me to keep track of my thoughts because i have the attention span of an ikea wardrobe and tend to forget things as soon as i think of them. the lack of structure also mirrored the way that i went about writing juno. while i did proceed, for the most part, in chronological order, i had a lot of weird and useless revelations during lunch, which by this point was happening around 2 am, and in the 5 minutes before the exhaustion finally hit and carried me down to hell. i changed A Lot. again, to understand exactly how much the story evolved from day one onwards, please consult the big daddy document.

in the meantime, here’s something else.

once june sent over hinata and atsumu’s character designs i sat down like the fucking fool i am and spent 2 hours poring over a document about victorian and other fashion movements of the past so i could assign a noun, adjective, and verb to each element of their outfits. i don’t know why i did this. i certainly could have not, but i attempted to make sense of their ‘fits from a logistical perspective and that went into the cat book too. everything went into the cat book. the cat book is a relic of the past now, stuffed with artifacts such as the birth of oikawa tooru, and also his demise.

MEDIUM DADDY: EDITING, PROOFREADING, AND CREEPY MURDER CATS

i finished writing on june 26th, 2020, approximately a month after i’d first started planning, somewhere around may 27th or 28th. at that point i had about 90,000 words’ worth of story and no sanity left whatsoever, so i took a day-long break to stare at a wall and listen to taylor swift’s enchanted on loop.

and then i made a new document, which you can look at using the link above, and i laid out everything i had to do. i’d discovered a fuck ton of plot inconsistencies and general errors while writing and lying awake in bed at 9 a.m., sleepless in seattle, and now that i was free of the demon egging me towards the first finish line, it was time to Deal with them. i speed-scrolled through the draft, which was 200+ pages compressed into one google doc, because i like to tempt god’s wrath, and fixed up all the plot issues over the course of a few days. this was the fun part.

the actual, hard editing was the extremely un-fun part. i reread the entire thing, paragraph by paragraph, line by damn line, from start to finish, paying especially close attention to awkward phrasing, incomplete dialogue, and moments which had fallen flat in my haste to get on to the next one. this was really fucking terrible. i spent more time lying facedown on the floor than actually editing anything, but after a long time (about a week), that, too was done.

SMALL DADDY: TITLES, SUMMARIES, AND GOOD FUCKING BYES

i spent a good eighty days thinking about the title, though hilariously enough we ended up with something that was a blend of our names. june + elmo = juno, which is, all things considered, pretty perfect, but the process of picking the title was Hell, and i Did Not Come Up With The Title until about 2 hours before posting. you can take a look at the haphazard clusterfuck of my title-selecting process in small daddy, which is linked above.

so the title was a last-minute choice. so was the summary. and the chapter divisions. and actually all the songs in the playlist for juno. the day we dropped juno onto planet earth like a newborn baby pitched out of the sky, i spent an hour hunched over my laptop, cutting my 213 page google doc into chapters based on nothing more than a Vibe. two days before that, i also attempted to voice-act the entirety of juno, an affair which ended at the 20,000 word mark with a sore throat and the kind of exhaustion one typically wants to sleep in a coffin for 23 years to get rid of. so in all honesty, i did very little editing, which is why there are definitely minor typos and/or mistakes hanging out somewhere on that chunky ao3 webpage. but whatever.

my attitude by july 5th (was it july 5th? or 4th? somewhere around there) was basically whatever. anything so i could get finish this damn thing, chuck it out of the window, and never see another google doc until the next century. i’ve been asked a few times how exactly i wrote at a rate of roughly 2000-3000 words per day for four weeks straight, and my answer has always been this: i died. what died, you ask? my soul. my spirit. my Will To Live. i’m a creature of fixations, and juno was my fixation for june. will i ever be able to do this again? would i recommend this experience to anyone? is god real? the answer to all of the above is probably no. juno was a fever dream, and so is my cat book. and so are all the lattes i had. and so was my 9 am to 4 pm sleep schedule.

but what we made is real. the research, oikawa tooru, the 4 am conversations in which i was like ‘how the fuck do i end this’ and june was like ‘jade proposal’ (the proposal was her idea. all rise for twitter user atsuhinas. she is the mastermind behind all of the Inch Resting moments in this story; i just flapped a korok leaf in her direction and made sure the air circulation was working properly) are real as fuck, and looking back, there’s a lot i’d change, but i’m lazy. and college is starting. and anyway, i did write 93,035 words in just under five weeks, four if you don’t count the week of Editing Hell, so i think that’s pretty cool.

thank you for reading this to the end, and for following us on our journey through the enigmatic taylor swift gundam fic which quite literally consumed my entire twitter account for the five weeks i spent working on it. retrospectively speaking i really was butt-obsessed so i am frankly incredibly impressed with everyone around me for putting up with a Husk of a Man for a month. thank you for doing that. thank you for indulging my vague tweeting, and our butterfly dns, and for reading 93 thousand words of gay fanfiction set in a high fantasy world with epaulettes and galettes. on behalf of june, once again, we are incredibly grateful for all your support.

if you have any questions about specific aspects of the writing process, or anything you’d like to know in general with reference to JUNO, feel free to drop me an ask through my tumblr inbox, or through my curiouscat over here. i’m aware i didn’t cover everything, but there’s frankly too much to put in a tumblr post without passing away somewhere around the 56% mark, so let me know what’s on your mind, and i’ll try to answer that to the best of my abilities. but anyway, before i go, here are some

TAKEAWAYS

one: don’t try to write 93,000 words in five weeks. seriously don’t fucking do it you will end up jittery and sleep-deprived and you will leave all your friends on read for a month. pace yourself. set realistic goals. you wrote 2k this week? that’s fantastic. you wrote 4k in a day? you absolute motherfucker. i hope you’re taking a long fucking break tomorrow. your story will not run away from you, but if you run too fast, you will get tired, and then you will pass away.

two: you don’t have to know everything about your story before you start writing. in fact if you have a single camera shot of two characters holding hands under a rose garden awning, i think that’s fucking wonderful. if you look at big daddy, you’ll realize that my initial plot draft, and all the ones following that, are not perfectly aligned with the final version of juno. i improvised over half of the scenes in this motherfucker, and to be completely honest, some of the improvised scenes were the best. fucking oikawa tooru was improvised out of nowhere. he only got written in way later, around chapter 8 or something, because i realized i needed a plot device and a source of information to keep the playing table from toppling over. i Sat Down one day and was like ‘okay, it’s time to write oikawa into the introduction. because he matters now. he didn’t matter last week but now he does, and soon he’s going to be the fulcrum of the entire story, because it’s like that with oikawa tooru’. it’s okay to change your mind halfway. it’s okay to go back and rewrite entire scenes or segments. it’s okay to highlight 4 pages of fresh, sentimental writing, and hit delete. writing is a fluid process, and you Will make discoveries as you progress through your story alongside your characters. be understanding of that iterative process. be kind to yourself.

three: You Are That Motherfucker. you, me, your dog, your dog’s friend, your dog’s enemy, all of us are that motherfucker. i never thought i’d be able to write anything longer than the great big map, which was a much simpler, linear story in which the other main character did not appear in the current timeline until like the eighth chapter. juno was different. juno was the motherfucker, and i was scared shitless of it, and to cope with that fear joked constantly while writing that it’d never see the light of day.

but it did. it was a rocky process, and i was awake for 48 hours after posting it because of the sheer adrenalin stuck in my skull, but i got through it. and i wouldn’t have been able to do it without june, who stepped in when i flopped over facedown on the floor and dragged me to my feet like the badass friend she is, and without everyone else in my life, who put up with me talking about The Thing that i couldn’t really talk about, but juno’s up there now. forever, or until the internet collapses and civilization goes extinct. and if the nineteen year old clown with the attention span of an ikea armchair and an a level certificate from hell wrote the 93,000 word long thing, so can you. i mean this completely unironically and with every ounce of genuine emotion i can summon from the cracked asshole of my heart.

writing is hard. writing is scary. writing is an investigation of the world around you and therefore, by extension, yourself, and that kind of honesty is freaky. it’s like going skinny-dipping next to the president’s mansion. who’s going to see you? what if they take a photo? what if you lose your spot at university?

but don’t think about that. our world is overrun with stories the way cereal bowls are full of cereal, but it’s those stories that keep us all sane in the disgusting day-to-day muck of reality, so think about your story. what’s haunting you today? what message do you want to leave printed in font size 666 comic sans across the southern hemisphere of the planet? what will you be tomorrow?

a writer. you’re going to be a motherfucking writer.

#my stuff

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javier-djarin · 5 years ago

Text

Como Me Duele: Chapter 8

Ship: Javi x Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,563 words

Warnings: Language, Smut, Soft!Javi

Masterlist

(Gif source @thewaythisis)

Summary: Your relationship with Javi is tested after a tragic incident. You worry about his sanity, and he’s more concerned with your safety.

A/N: This chapter was fun to write, even though parts of it just hurt so much. For those of you that don’t know, the title of this fic translates to “Oh how it hurts.” Thank you again for all the love and support! Please, please, PLEASE let me know what you think. Please let me know if you want to be on my tag list! Chapter 9 coming soon! Also, translations are at the bottom.

Your POV

“Anoche hubo una emboscada que resultó en varias muertes de oficiales del Bloque de Búsqueda. Se desconoce si hay sobrevivientes. Entre los muertos está el coronel Carrillo. Muchos sospechan que Pablo Escobar estaba detrás del ataque.”

That was the news broadcast you woke up to, which instantly caused your heart to drop. Javi didn’t come home last night, and Steve wasn’t answering your calls. You grabbed your house coat and walked down the hall to his apartment and knocked. Much to your surprise, Connie answered.

As soon as you saw her, you burst into tears. You knew if she was back, something happened. “Where’s Steve?”

She cracked the door open and you saw him sitting on the couch with a drink in his hand and his head bowed. You ran to him and knelt in front of him. “What happened?”

He just shook his head.

“Where’s Javi?”

“He’s fine. We weren’t allowed to go on the raid,” he mumbled.

Thank God, you thought. You could kiss their new boss.

“The information that Javi got….” he paused and tried to swallow some tears. “It was a set up.” His voice cracked just a little, but enough to show that he was upset.

Connie came over and sat in the chair next to their couch, leaning over her knees.

“Where’s Javi?” you asked again. “He didn’t come home last night.”

Steve shrugged. “The last time I saw him, he was halfway through a bottle of whiskey at the office.”

You sighed, hoping he fell asleep at the office. You slowly stood up. “Maybe he’s made it back by now.”

Shuffling your feet, you headed for the door, but Connie stopped you. She wrapped you in a hug. “He’s going to be fine.”

You nodded as you turned back towards your apartment. Your door was opened, and you saw Javi sitting on the couch, staring at the blank TV Screen. “Javi!” You exclaimed as you closed the door and ran to him. You knelt in front of him and rested your hands on his knees. “I was so worried. I thought….”

“Don’t,” he mumbled.

You froze, unsure of what to say. You just waited for him to speak again. He sat in silence for a long time before looking at you. “It’s all my fault.” Tears brimming at the edge of his eyes.

“How could you have known?” you whispered.

“I-I should have known better.”

You crawled onto the couch next to him and pulled his head into your lap. He turned into you, burying his face in your shirt. “Javi, this is not your fault,” you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. “There is no way you could have known this was bad intel.”

He sat up and looked at you. “My intel got good men murdered at the hands of that motherfucker. I knew it was too good to be true!”

You tried to remain calm, as you understood this was his grieving process. “Javi, you didn’t pull the trigger. You didn’t tell Carrillo and his men to follow the information.”

“It was my lead.”

You saw a piece of paper in his hand. “What’s that?”

He looked down at his clenched fist. “It’s the address of that bitch who set us up.” He stood up and walked to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.” He stormed out of the apartment, leaving you helpless. You felt the tears you were holding back spill over. You were hurting for Javi, and you had no idea how to help him. He was so lost, so broken. You felt like anything you did to help him just made things worse.

His POV

He sat in his Jeep for several minutes staring at the garage wall. He felt like shit for the way he treated her, but then again, he was used to feeling like shit. Javi knew she was just trying to help, but he didn’t want it. No, he didn’t deserve it. He deserved every bit of the pain he felt, every sliver of regret and survivor’s guilt. He was supposed to be with that raid. He should be dead alongside Carrillo. He was hurting, hurting so bad that he didn’t know how to process or deal with it. He looked at the address in his hand, and suddenly the guilt was gone, replaced by white hot rage.

He backed out of the garage and headed for Search Bloc to find Trujillo. It was time for some justice, even if he had to dole it out himself.

***

They were sitting outside a random building they followed Limón to. It wasn’t until he left did they see Velasco was in there. He dialed Search Bloc’s number. “It’s Peña. Estoy aquí con Trujillo en la esquina de las calles 38 y 24. Necesitamos una copia de seguridad.”

“Lo siento, pero no hay autorización para despachar patrullas,” dispatch replied.

“Estamos viendo a uno de los muchachos de Escobar. Acaba de entrar al edificio,” he growled into the phone.

“Regrese a la base con la ubicación.”

He hung up the phone and mumbled to himself, “Cierto. Y aparecerás el próximo martes, Hijo de puta.”

There was no way just he and Trujillo could take on the entire building. They needed back up, but their back up was useless. Frustrated, he grabbed the phone again and dialed a number he knew he would regret. It wasn’t until Don Berna and The Castaño brothers were walking up to him did he feel the pit of his stomach drop. There was no going back from this, no matter how bad he wished he could just walk away.

Your POV

For the last three days, Javi had been in Medellín without so much as a call. You cried yourself to sleep every one of those nights worrying about him. You called Steve this morning, and he told you that Javi was fine; just busy with work. That didn’t make you worry any less. He was hurting, and you were afraid this pain was going to send him down a road he’d never come back from. With everyone gone, including Connie back to the States, you picked up more hours at work to pass the time.

You were standing at the nurses’ station looking through a patient’s file when Dr. Rodriguez approached you. “¿Está todo bien?”

“Sí. Está todo bueno,” you replied, afraid to look up and meet his gaze.

He smiled at you. “No te creo. Parece que hace estado llorando.”

You bottom lip quivered, and a few tears fell on to the paper. “Estoy bien.”

He gently grabbed you by the arm and led you into an empty patient room. “¿Que pasa?”

You took several deep breaths before looking up into his eyes. They were filled with concern, which warmed your heart that he cared. “Mi novio. Estoy preocupada por él. Tiene un tiempo difícil con el trabajo y no le he visto en un rato.”

“Su novio, ¿es esto que hombre de la barra? Javi?”

You nodded. You watched him as he contemplated what to say next. “¿Quieres salir conmigo esta noche? Te ayudará a distraerte.”

You felt your heart race. You knew Dr. Rodriguez liked you, you’ve known since that night at the club. As much as you wanted a distraction, you knew he would be the wrong kind. He would push the boundaries as coworkers and friends. So you shook your head. “No. Quiero estar en casa, por si llama.”

“No puede esperarlo para siempre,” he said, annoyed at your rejection.

“Para él, esperaría para siempre,” you said, knitting your eyebrows together.

He shook his head and walked out of the room, saying, “Hace un error grande.”

You grabbed the phone off the wall and dialed the office in Medellín. It rang several times before someone answered. “Javier Peña, por favor,” you said.

The phone rang a few more times. “Peña,” his deep baritone came through the receiver.

“Javi,” you breathed. Hearing his voice immediately relaxed you. “Javi,” you started to cry.

“Hey,” he soothed, “what’s wrong, mi vida?”

You tried to stop the tears, but they kept coming. “I’ve been so worried about you, and I haven’t heard from you in days….and….”

“Shhh, hermosa. I am okay,” he said, “I’ve just been swamped here.” You heard another phone, his cellphone, ring in the background. “I’ve got to go.” He hung up.

Your heart broke. For the first time in months, he didn’t bother to say “I love you.” Tears flowed down your face, this pain was almost worse than when Michael betrayed you. You sighed and wiped your eyes. You still had to finish your shift, no matter how bad this hurt.

As usual, your shift passed slowly, but once you got home, you were able to sit and breathe. You looked at the phone, debated on calling him again. Despite what you wanted, you decided not calling was for the best. He wanted to be alone for a bit, and you were going to let him, no matter how much that pained you.

His POV

It was late and he was sitting at his desk, staring into the bottom of his glass. Shit was hitting the fan, and he was in the middle of it all. To top everything off, Los Pepes emerged as a vigilante group - the very group he was working with. He cursed that call that interrupted them. It was dispatch telling him they found Velasco’s body. The longer he thought about that call, the more he regretted avoiding her. She deserved better than that. Better than him. The second he called Berna, he was no longer on the side of the good guys, and she deserved only the best. Now that he was allied with a narco, he knew this would only end one way. She was no longer safe down here. He sighed and looked at the clock. It was 11:30. She would be asleep, but he needed to hear her voice one last time.

The phone rang only twice before she answered. “Hello,” she said. He could tell she had been crying.

“Mi vida,” his voice cracked.

“Javi? Is everything alright?” Her voice trembling.

His heart burst. She was hurting and all she cared about was him. “I’m fine.” He sighed. “I think you should go home.”

She gasped. “What? No.”

His voice was the one trembling now. “Please, for me.”

“Javi, I’m not leaving you.”

“Things are getting dangerous, and I just want to keep you out of harm’s way.”

“And what about you? Don’t I get a say?” Her voice grew louder.

“Don’t worry about me, Y/N. I’m going to get exactly what I deserve.” His heart was racing now.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Javi?”

He ran his hand down his face. “It means exactly what it sounds like.”

The other end of the line was silent. He could have sworn she’d hung up if he didn’t hear the tiny muffled sobs coming from the other end. “Hermosa,” he whispered.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

His blood turned to ice.

“On one condition. You tell me the truth. Why do you want me gone? And don’t give me that bullshit of ‘you think I’ll be happier with someone better than you’, because that won’t happen. There is no one better than you. So, dime la verdad.”

He wanted to smile at her, run to her and kiss her like it was their last. But the days of smiling had long passed when he killed his brothers. He might not have pulled the trigger, but he signed their warrant. He took several deep breaths. “Because I’ve made some very dangerous friends down here that scare me where you’re concerned.”

“Javi, what did you do?”

“Sold what was left of my soul. But I refuse to let them take my heart, which is why I need it to get home. Back to the states, where you’re safe from them.”

“Okay,” she agreed, though he could tell she was crying again. “But the minute something catastrophic happens, I’m on the first flight back. You’re not going to suffer alone. Not when you have someone who loves you as much as I do.”

He felt himself breathe again; relieved she was listening to him. “I will send someone from the embassy to pick you up. They will stay with you until you are on the plane.”

“Javi?” She said softly.

“Yes, mi vida.”

“Cuídate, mi amor.”

“Siempre, mi hermosa.” He paused, not wanting to hang up the phone. “Te quiero, Y/N. Te quiero más que a nada en el mundo.”

“Te quiero, Javi. Te quiero mucho.” She hung up the phone, while he kept the line open until he heard the dial tone again.

He wanted to change his mind, have her stay. But he knew that was selfish. She was going to be in the crosshairs the entire time, and he couldn’t risk that. He needed to keep her safe, even if it was at the expense of his suffering. Now he understood why Steve was more on edge than ever. He found his one, the fabled person he’s meant to be with, and now that he was sending her away, he felt like he was cutting off a limb. He felt alone.

Your POV

You woke up the next morning and called the hospital. You were working the night shift, but you told them that a family emergency took place and you needed to take a few days with your family. Your flight left at night, which gave you plenty of time to pack. You were only expecting to be gone for no more than a week. It broke your heart at the thought of leaving him here, but you knew it was the only way he would have a peace of mind.

It was about 9:00 AM when you heard a knock at your door. You wrapped your robe around you and answered the door. Much to your surprise, Javi was waiting on the other side. The second he saw you, his lips found yours. He closed the door behind him and lifted you in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. You didn’t care about talking right now. You were just happy to have him in your arms again.

He gently set you on the bed as you stripped free of your robe. His eyes lit up when he saw you were wearing his Fleetwood Mac concert T-shirt as pajamas, but there was no smile. Your heart broke, and for a second you worried that you would never see him smile again. But in that moment, you decided to make it your mission to bring the smile back. You knew today, your last day together for a while, was not going to be that day. But soon, you would see his beautiful smile again.

Slowly, Javi slid off his shirt from your body before undoing his own. He was wearing the blue button down you loved on him, but you loved it even better off. He leaned down to kiss you delicately, and then passionately. His lips and tongue tasted yours as you both let your hands explore your favorite parts. Yours quickly found his belt as you started to undo it. Without leaving your lips, he helped you, and as he stood a little to slide them off, you raised too, so you wouldn’t lose that connection. As you laid back down, his hands ran down your body at an excruciating slow pace; almost as if he was savoring every inch of you and committing it to memory. You arched your back and deepened your kiss as he massaged your breasts. His hands had never felt so good on your skin before. His touch was almost enough to send you over the edge.

He rested his hands on your hips as he kissed your neck and jaw, your hands grabbing fists full of his hair. “Javi,” you said his name with a sigh.

“Mi amor,” he said, his warm breath causing goosebumps on your skin. “Mi vida.” He planted a kiss between your breasts. “Mi hermosa.” He kissed your stomach. “Mi perfecta.”

Tears fell down your cheeks. You felt like this was less “I’ll miss you” and more “goodbye.” But instead of focusing on that, you focused on the man between your legs making the most passionate love to you.

He kissed the insides of your thighs, your body already aching for him. You cried out when you felt his mouth where you wanted him. He groaned against you, the vibrations sending you even further into your ecstasy. He licked his fingers and gently placed them in you as his thumb rubbed your clit. He moved the rest of his body up to your face as he kissed you. He didn’t have to say it, but you knew he wanted you to look into his eyes when you came. His fingers moved methodically and slowly as you ground your hips into his palm. You grabbed his other arm with your hand, while the other gripped the sheets. “Come for me, hermosa,” he whispered as he looked down on you with all the love and desire in his eyes.

It only took a few more seconds, and your body clenched around him as you came. You continued to look into his eyes as you cried out his name. He kissed you deeply, taking his name off your lips. “I need you, Javi,” you said, breathless.

He kissed you again. “I need you, mi corazon.” His voice cracked.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him to you. This time you kissed him deeper, opening your mouth to welcome him. His kiss was desperate, passionate, bittersweet. He slid into you with ease and you held him. “I never want to leave this moment,” you said, kissing his cheeks and then his eyes. You noticed they were wet, but you didn’t say anything. Because so were yours. He filled you completely, perfectly, and you never wanted him to leave.

He moved slowly, pulling back and then carefully thrusting in; trying to make this moment last a lifetime. You whimpered and bit your bottom lip as you looked into his eyes, eyes that you could get completely lost in. You grabbed his hair with one hand and the other ran down his back. You could feel every ripple and muscle in his body with every movement. He leaned down to kiss you, again, like he couldn’t get enough of your taste. He moved just a little faster, and she moaned into his kiss. “Oh, Javi,” you cried.

He moaned your name back, almost like a prayer. ‘Te quiero, mi corazon,” he said.

More tears fell down your face. “Te quiero, el amor de mi vida.”

You met each of his thrusts with the grinding of your hips. His slow pace was wonderful and excruciating. Your body craved more, but you knew that meant he would be gone sooner. “J-javi,” you moaned.

He groaned as his name fell off your lips and you felt him move faster. He knew just what you needed to send you over the edge into your euphoria. He licked his thumb and placed it between the two of you to create the right amount of friction. You cried out and arched your back. Soon, you were coming, a wave of pleasure washing over you, burning your body inside and out. You cried out again as he continued. You looked in his eyes and saw he was trying to hold on as long as possible. After you came again, he gave in to his desire and followed you soon after, saying your name again.

He collapsed on your chest, remaining inside of you. He kissed you again. “I wish you could stay,” he finally admitted, “but I refuse to keep you in danger. I can’t concentrate on my job until I know you’re safe.”

You kissed him lightly. “I’ll call you as soon as I land.”

He rolled over and pulled you against him. Kissing the top of your head. “I’m taking you to the airport tonight.”

As happy as you were that he was taking you, you asked, “Are you sure? What about the embassy?”

He ran his fingers up and down your arm, sending chills all over your body. “I’ve done enough for them. They can spare me for a day.”

You curled up next to him, listening to his breathing. It was ragged and slow. As much as you wanted to stay, you promised him you’d leave, you’d stay safe. You loved him enough to leave him. “When this is over, come home to me,” you said.

“Of course,” he replied, but you could tell in the tone of his voice he didn’t believe he’d survive this. Whatever or Whomever he “sold his soul” to was going to cash in on that deal before this was all said and done. You felt your heart ache. You wanted to take him with you, protect him from whatever was going to come his way. Something told you he believed this was it, but you refused to let him be right. You would get your Javi back if it was the last thing you did.

Translations

Anoche hubo una emboscada que resultó en varias muertes de oficiales del Bloque de Búsqueda. Se desconoce si hay sobrevivientes. Entre los muertos está el coronel Carrillo. Muchos sospechan que Pablo Escobar estaba detrás del ataque. - Last night there was an ambush with resulted in several deaths of officers from Search Block. It is unknown if there are any survivors. Among the dead is Colonel Carrillo. Many suspect that Pablo Escobar was behind the attack.

Estoy aquí con Trujillo en la esquina de las calles 38 y 24. Necesitamos una copia de seguridad. - I'm here with Trujillo at the corner

of 38th and 24th streets. We need back up.

Lo siento, pero no hay autorización para despachar patrullas. - I'm sorry, but there's no authorization to dispatch patrols.

Estamos viendo a uno de los muchachos de Escobar. Acaba de entrar al edificio. - We're watching one of Escobar's guys. He just entered the building.

Regrese a la base con la ubicación. - Return to base with the location.

Cierto. Y aparecerás el próximo martes, Hijo de puta. - Sure. And you'll show up next Tuesday, son of a bitch.

¿Está todo bien? - Is everything okay?

Sí. Está todo bueno. - Yes, everything’s fine.

No te creo. Parece que hace estado llorando. - I don’t believe you. You look like you’ve been crying.

Estoy bien. - I’m fine.

¿Que pasa? - What’s going on?

Mi novio. Estoy preocupada por él. Tiene un tiempo difícil con el trabajo y no le he visto en un rato. - My boyfriend. I'm worried about him. He's having a hard time at work, and I haven't seen him in a while.

Su novio, ¿es esto que hombre de la barra? Javi? - Your boyfriend, is it that man from the bar? Javi?

¿Quieres salir conmigo esta noche? Te ayudará a distraerte. - Do you want to go out with me tonight? It will help distract you.

No. Quiero estar en casa, por si llama. - No. I want to stay home, in case he calls.

No puede esperarlo para siempre. - You can’t wait for him forever.

Para él, esperaría para siempre. - For him, I would wait forever.

Hace un error grande. - You’re making a big mistake.

Dime la verdad. - Tell me the truth.

Te quiero más que a nada en el mundo. - I love you more than anything in the world.

El amor de mi vida. - The love of my life.

Tag List

@larakasser @magneticbucky @pedropascalownsmyheart @wander-lustbabe @frietiemeloen

#Javier Pena #Javier Peña #Javier Pena x Reader #Narcos #Como Me Duele

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txladyj-blog · 5 years ago

Text

This Time Around Chapter - 20

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx by request of @txladyj-blog

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 25/?

The next morning brought with it the promise of rain and a mist that had descended over the woodland surrounding Alexandria that made it both hard to track and see anything in the distance. Jess exercised her morning hunt and Walker elimination with extreme caution, although the party the night before had attracted unwanted attention from the undead due to the humdrum of noise and light from Deanna’s house. The numbers of animals were still thinning and she found a need to expand the area she usually covered.

With her mask and hood equipped, she decided to check Enid’s usual spot for any signs of life before she headed further out into the woods. Eventually, she found her conscientiousness paid off when she came across the girl where she was normally sitting, in a hollowed-out tree that doubled up as an ideal hiding spot from Walkers. She was reading and her head snapped up unexpectedly when she was stirred by the sound of Jess cracking a twig beneath her boot. A rookie error when in stealth mode.

Enid quickly began to shove her book back into her backpack and scramble to her feet, using the trunk of the tree for stability. Jess held out her hands to halt her.

“Woah, it’s OK. It’s just me.” She said.

Enid regarded her with suspicion and began to loop her arms back through the backpacks handles, soon settling it just below her shoulder blades. She took an obvious step forwards, but then changed her mind and retreated back to the hollow of the tree.

“I-I was just heading back.” She stammered.

“No, you weren’t.” Jess countered “But it’s okay. You know you can stay within the boundaries we talked about. You’re fine here.”

Enid was partially hiding behind a curtain of long, brown hair and kept her head low, as if she was afraid of someone being able to see who she was, what she was thinking and what she was all about like she wore it across her forehead. Jess could relate.

“It’s not about the boundaries.” Jess stated knowingly with a small nod. “You want to be left alone.”

She didn’t need a reply or a confirmation either way, it was written all over what she could see of the girl’s face. Being outside helped her to feel something. Anything. It made her feel alive. The walls were imposing and prison like, boxing her in and making her complacent when she thought about the world outside.

“I get it. Stay. If you want. This side is clear of Walkers so you’re safe enough. For now.” Jess informed her. “Just, don’t stay out here too long. I’ll be around so I’ll check on you in thirty minutes or so.”

Jess, having laid down the law and done her parenting duties for the day, turned on her heel and set off for the hunt. She was reasonably satisfied that Enid would be safe enough until she returned. After all, the girl was probably out there more than she was when she really thought about it.

“Parker?” Came a small voice from behind her, cutting through the air like a songbird, soft and innocent.

Jess stopped and turned around blinking with the realization that Enid was quite possibly the only one that didn’t know her real name yet. Her absence at the party meant she’d missed the drama and revelations. Jess gently flipped her hood back and nuzzled out of her mask, seeing Enid’s eyes widen slightly.

“Please, call me Jess. Parker is my brother’s name.” She smiled

Enid moved closer, shrugging her black backpack further onto her shoulder. She studied Jess’s features and scanned the rest of her while she had her locked in her sights.

“Why lie about your name?” She asked.

“Same reason you like to come out here and read, all alone.” She answered confidently “Anonymity. Privacy. Peace.”

The young girl seemed to understand and nodded with a small smile. Nothing else needed to be said when there was a mutual comprehension between them both. Jess had been keeping an eye on Enid for as long as she'd lived at the fairground. She needed the freedom of being able to leave for her own sanity and she also had no one behind the walls to tell her otherwise. She spoke to Aaron, who cast a watchful eye over her when he could, but on the outside, Jess made sure she came to no harm. They rarely spoke and when they did it was only when necessary and Enid was grateful for that. In fact, the extent of her gratitude reached further than Jess thought. She inched closer and quickly looked around at their surroundings, Jess remained in place.

“Right. I just wanted to say thanks. For looking out for me.” Enid said sincerely.

Jess was rooted to the spot when the girl loosely wrapped her arms around her middle in a feeble, fleeting but meaningful hug. She found herself smiling as Enid stepped back and a genuine grin was exchanged between them before Enid head off in the direction of the gate.

Jess decided to wait until The girl was out of sight, something in her gut told her there was a reason for her lingering until she’d gone. It was proved right when she saw another figure emerge from between the trees from the other direction.

Shards of light from the sun beaming between the leaves illuminated Carl’s Sheriffs hat and Jess sighed to herself. She should have known that where Enid was, Carl wouldn’t be that far behind, despite her earlier warnings for him to stay inside the walls.

She wasn’t surprised when he stopped moving upon noticing her presence, his shoulders sagged and he offered her a strained smile that told her; ‘Alright, you caught me.’ Jess marched towards him and motioned to a couple of tree stumps to her right. Trees were cut down occasionally to allow for the community to make fires for cooking and warmth, thus saving the generators for as long as possible. He plonked down onto the stump, readying himself for what was expected to be a long lecture about following Enid over the walls.

“What did I tell you, Carl?” Jess started.

His defenses went up and he turned to her, his eyebrows knitting together and his face changing to an expression of desperation.

“She’s alone out here! I can’t just leave her!” He cried.

Jess held her gloved hands up to quieten him. Sensing that her intentions were not solely to scold him, he immediately backed down and she gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I knew she was here. I just spoke to her. She’s gone back over the wall now.” She explained “You’re the one that was alone. You need to be more careful, Carl. Stop following her out here or I’ll have to tell your dad.”

Yes, it was a threat but it was only delivered out of necessity and Jess had faith that Carl would heed her advice, meaning that she wouldn’t have to follow through and inform Rick of his son’s venturing into the woods in pursuit of a girl. What’s more, she hoped she wouldn’t have to explain her knowledge of it for the past few weeks and why she never spoke up in the first place.

“You wouldn’t.” Carl challenged.

“Wouldn’t I?” She smirked in response.

Don’t test me, kid.

“Uggh, don’t be a snitch” He groaned “I just get worried about her, okay?”

“I know you’re worried about her. That’s what happens when you care about someone. But you have to look after yourself too. You have a Family that love you and don’t want to lose you.”

If she had to be honest, she couldn’t say that if she was Carl’s age and in his situation that she wouldn’t have done the same. But Carl was precious, not just to Rick but to the whole group and the community having to come to terms with such a loss didn’t bear thinking about.

“I know. You’re right.” He conceded.

It was the perfect opportunity to bring up the topic of discussion between her and Daryl in the abandoned house. Jess took a few moments to decide which angle to approach it from and shifted her body to face Carl.

“Daryl told me you were asking him what you need to do to be good to Enid.” She said. “You already know this, in your heart. But I guess a little more advice wouldn’t hurt.”

Carl shrugged a shoulder up, if he was anywhere near embarrassed, he wasn’t showing it.

“Yeah, Daryl said to ask you because you’re a girl.”

Jess almost laughed when she remembered Daryl’s reasoning for dragging her back into the fray.

“Yeah, I got that.” She sniggered “OK, I’m going to tell you something and you have to promise not to tell anybody else.”

His face lit up at the prospect of being trusted with information that was to stay between the two of them. First, he’d kept her identity under the radar, now, she was relying on him to keep something else to himself. It’s had become. A strange bonding exercise, being entrusted as the keeper of secrets.

“Yeah. Sure. Of course.” He quickly agreed

“And you have to promise not to come out here alone anymore” she added.

“But Jess-”

“Carl” she warned with a stern voice and a raised eyebrow.

“Ok, fine. I promise.”

Jess took a deep breath and tried to evaluate the consequences her words would have should Carl fail to keep them under wraps. It was a risk, but one she could probably explain away should she need to. It all depended on how she worded what she was about to say

“He doesn’t know it, but Daryl is who you should be using as a good example of how to treat a girl. You should pay attention to how he treats me.”

It had been said and it wasn’t until she heard the words spoken instead of in her head, that she realized just how much she believed them.

“What?” Carl said “You mean, you guys are-”

“-No! Oh, no!” She corrected, a little quicker than desired “We’re friends. Close friends. But he knows how to treat a girl the way she deserves and it’s strange because he’s never had anybody in his entire life to tell him how to do that. He just knows.”

“Well…What does he do?”

Her vision moved out to the trees while her mind worked to filter though her memories of Daryl and every time his actions or words had made her feel like she was worth something. There were a lot and she was sure that if she ever told him he wouldn’t have even known.

“He makes time for me. I think he likes being around me. He laughs with me, teases me, actually listens to what I have to say and if I need him, I know he’ll be there.”

“That sounds nice. For you.” Carl mused.

“Yeah, and it’ll be nice for Enid to have somebody like that because you can bet your ass that idiot boyfriend of hers hasn’t got a clue what he’s doing. If he did, she probably wouldn’t be out here most days on her own” she told him with a wag of her finger

Carl laughed at her take on things “hope you’re right” He mused. “If Daryl is so good to you, why aren’t you his girlfriend?”

A wave of nervous energy washed over Jess and she couldn’t help the strained and somewhat odd giggle that escaped her lips. Knowing her only option to bypass being tangled in a conversation on a topic she really did not wish to discuss was ignoring the question, she slapped her hands on her knees, rubbed over her jeans and got to her feet.

“Carl, you’re never going to get a chance with the girl you like unless you stay inside the walls. Because you’ll be dead. Now, c’mon, let’s get you home” She declared.

With that, she linked her hand under his arm and pulled him upright, frog marching him towards Alexandria and trying to ignore the mocking grin he was giving her.

Daryl was sitting in a truck by the gate when Jess managed to smuggle Carl back in without Rick or anyone else but the gate guard noticing. Stealth and secrecy were her expertise and Carl was glad of it when he spotted his father outside the armory in discussion with Carol. He quickly ran behind the houses, evading Ricks focus.

Daryl smoked a cigarette and followed Jess with his eyes as she crept around the perimeter, keeping Carl in the shadows and sending him on his way once he was out of sight. Then, she made her way towards him where he was already enjoying seeing her inside the walls with her hood down and mask hanging around her neck as opposed to hiding her face. She’d braided her hair and the loose strands from the front blew gently in the breeze, it added a delicate and feminine edge to her mysterious and capable front.

He squinted at her in the sun and pushed away his anxiety about what had transpired the previous night. It wasn’t something he’d planned, or even thought about. Rather, it had just happened and he couldn’t say that he regretted the mildly flirtatious things that he’d said. The result was better than he could have anticipated and instead of him needing to awkwardly back track and apologize, Jess reacted in the best way possible; he could even hazard to say that she’d flirted back, not to mention that she’d referred to him as ‘handsome’. Daryl mused that there was indeed a first time for everything and for him, it was being able to steer a conversation with a pretty girl towards something that hinted at a little more than friendship, even if he wasn’t necessarily sure that she was on the same page. The prospect of her having a genuine interest in him in that respect had come from the certainty that she did indeed have a crush on him back at the quarry and that she quite frequently appeared flustered while in his presence. But now he was under no illusions that their flirtatious exchange was likely to be little more than an instance of getting to know one another. After all, she’d probably forgotten all about it by then anyway. He dared to hope for anything more, disbelieving that he was anywhere near good enough for her anyway.

He watched her closely as she crossed the street and headed in his direction, her hand lifted in a small wave and his fingers rippled up on the frame of the open window of the truck, acknowledging her and returning the gesture. She was back in her regular clothes but Daryl would never forget the image of her in a dress with soft curls and wearing a shy and altogether bewitching smile when he’d informed her of his interest in finding out more about her.

“Morning handsome” she greeted in an echo of the night before

She leaned against the open door of the truck and smiled broadly at him. Something had changed in him and the longer his eyes lingered on her the more he wanted to follow through with his idea of working harder to find out the things about her that he didn’t yet know.

“Not sure which nickname I prefer” he expressed “that or ‘Stinky’.”

“‘Stinky’ is now reserved for when you piss me off. ‘Handsome’ is for when you’re in my good books.” Her head tilted to one side and she traced over the edge of the truck’s door with her fingertip.

“I’m in you good books now?” He asked

“You might be.”

“How’d I manage that?”

“Told me I looked nice last night.” Was her honest and surprising reply.

Daryl was shocked to discover that his flirtatious comments hadn’t been brushed off like yesterdays shopping list at all. They were very much still at the forefront of her mind and for some reason he couldn’t quite place, she presented as different to him. She was bolder and for the first time he was able to see a glimmer of a side to her that had hijacked his curiosity more than he cared to admit.

“You did” He reiterated bravely.

“Ooh.” She hummed “You’re determined to stay there, huh?”

“Kind of a good place to be” He mentioned “Better’n you pointin’ guns at me in the woods like a crazy lady”

“Aaaand you just secured your place back in the bad books, Stinky.” She giggled while she his gaze, bravely grinning at him and trying to stop the sparking mass of excitement in the pit of her stomach from making her do something she would regret. From her peripheral vision, she could sense Rick at the other end of the street. He was still at the top of the armory steps, shoving his Python into its holster at his hip.

“You heading out?” She asked Daryl.

“Yeah, found a guy livin’ in the woods a few miles out all by himself. Rick is coming with me to talk to him, see what he’s about” he explained.

The smile stayed on Jess’s face and she nudged her head up, conveying that she understood. Part of Daryl wished he didn’t have to leave, that Rick wasn’t on his way to climb into the truck and venture with him outside of the walls. He wanted to stay, to stay with Jess and spend the day just talking to her. Or, to at least find a reason to spend time in her company.

“Come with us.” He suggested from nowhere. It was driven by impulse, and idea that wasn’t thought through but said regardless.

“Thought you didn’t want me going anywhere that wasn’t local. You put your big, protective foot down, remember? Breaking your own rules, Dixon” She reminded him with an element of smugness.

“Ain’t gotta.” He shrugged. “plus, what’s the point of rules if they ain't for breakin’ from time to time?”

“Daryl Dixon, the eternal rebel.” She smiled with a much better executed wink than her previous effort “I’ll tag along.” The idea of a trip far from the town was an appealing one and not just because of the company she would be keeping. Jess was beginning to get cabin fever after pacing the same paths and looking at the same walls. She left the quarry to be a free bird, to go where she pleased and on occasion, she felt nothing but hemmed in. She needed to be busy and Daryl’s offer couldn’t have come at a better time. She hopped in the back and hung an arm on each of the seats in front while they waited for Rick to arrive. Daryl discarded his smoke and swung his legs into the truck, closing the door and turning his head to see Jess peering at him from her position between the seats.

“So, what’s the deal with you bringin’ Carl through the gates like he’s contraband?” He wanted to know.

“Oh, about that, I caught him outside the walls looking for Enid. I’m keeping an eye on him. Don’t tell Rick”

A slight glance over his shoulder told her that he didn’t like the idea of withholding information from Rick, but some things need not be said to save any unnecessary dramas.

“You tell the kid what ya told me?” he asked.

“Told him what he needs to do, yes.”

“Alright. We’ll see if it works, I guess.”

“It will.” She commented with a firm confidence only to be met with a suspicious side glance from Daryl. “It will!” She reiterated “He’s got excellent mentors.”

“What, me n’ you? Two people who ain't never had a relationship before? Alright, whatever you say.”

Jess playfully slapped at his shoulder and scoffed at his negativity, although she couldn’t deny that he had a point, she wasn’t about to agree with his statement.

“It doesn’t need experience; it needs patience and faith. You’ll see.”

“OK, cupid.” He mumbled. A thin piece of red thread garnered his attention on the dash and he picked it up and began winding it around his fingers as he leaned on the steering wheel. “Whatcha say to him anyways?”

It was the second time he’d made a try for specifics on the subject and his intent felt dangerously thinly veiled. He was interested, curious to know about Jess’s expectations and advice. For a moment, he considered the idea that he probably needed the advice more than Carl did. A quietness from beside him concerned him and he looked to his side to see her lip curled up at one end and a glint in her eye.

“That’s between Carl and I.” She finally replied. “Maybe I’ll tell you one day.”

A short huff from Daryl meant he was dismissing the subject rapidly and started to rummage around in the glovebox, secretly hoping that she would grace him with the truth someday. More than aware that her conversing with him was becoming a lot more than just chit chat and jest, Jess toyed with the idea of asking something a little more direct than she usually would.

“Were you drunk last night?” She questioned.

As if the notion had sparked a fire under him, Daryl shot back to his seating position and frowned at her.

“What? No.” He answered, “Why?”

“Wondering, that’s all. Was thinking maybe you were drunk or it was the dress that I told Aaron was too short but he made me wear it anyway.” As she spoke, her nerves began to rise and it was translated into the flicking of her hands in the air, making her appear to be rambling when she wasn’t.

“What are ya talkin’ ‘bout?’ He queried, turning his body to face her. She blinked at him and sucked her lower lip into her mouth.

Say it, Jess. Just say it. You want to see his reaction.

“Just…trying to figure out why you flirted with me.”

Far from the response she wanted, Daryl slowly twisted back and settled in the driver’s seat. She heard him sigh deeply, a long, drawn out exhalation. Along with the drumming of his fingers on the steering wheel, she figured they would be the only two sounds she would be presented with. Seconds passed, the longest seconds she’d ever encountered and she was on the verge of sitting back in the seat and pretending she never even bothered to ask.

Daryl was at a loss for words. Such a question was totally unexpected and he hadn’t given a single thought to how he might answer it. He could have been revealingly honest and told her he’d flirted with her because he had feelings for her that he couldn’t explain but didn’t dislike. But the point of such an admission would have been absent and so, he resigned himself to the less is more approach.

“That a problem?” He eventually muttered.

“Uh…No.” She replied uneasily.

It may not have been a problem, but it was still an issue of some sort and for Daryl it was enough to make him highly uncomfortable. His face was stoic with a discipline he’d practiced for years, he peered out of the windscreen at the gate guards swapping shifts. Then, movement in the mirror caught his attention. Rick was on his way to the truck. The air was thick with anticipation and as much as he just wanted to keep quiet and not fuel any more confusion between them, he knew he owed her an answer at least. With Rick a few feet away from the back of the truck, Daryl diverted his gaze to the rear-view mirror and found Jess peering back at him innocently and with a hint of worry on her face.

“Was sober n’ it wasn’t ‘cause of no dress.” He whispered just as Rick interrupted by climbing into the truck.

Over an hour of fleeting glances in the rear-view mirror and frustration near to boiling point meant Jess had to force herself to swallow the urge to ask a barrage of questions pertaining to Daryl’s absolute conundrum of a statement. Reaching their destination, Jess jumped out of the truck and demanded to be shown the route they were taking on a map. Once she had a clear idea of the direction they were headed in, she surged ahead, not wanting to having to endure any more confusion by meeting Daryl’s eye.

Since when did he flirt with her? Since when did he offer such a non-answer when questioned about something? Since when did everything get so complicated? She needed to know what was happening, because something was and she could feel it in her gut. Something in him had changed and she needed to know what. It was obvious that he’d timed his answer strategically, in the seconds before Rick opened the truck door and climbed inside. He knew she wouldn’t continue probing about such a sensitive subject in front of anyone else and he took advantage of it.

Smart She thought Smart and annoying.

The day was hot. Dry, dusty air howled through the leaves and branches of the woods and Walkers were congregating in higher numbers than Alexandria had to deal with. Rick and Daryl took it upon themselves to put most of them down as the small group moved towards their destination with Jess picking off the stragglers at a distance with her bow. Multiple times she’d heard Daryl call her name during combat with the undead, but every time she ignored him. She could handle a few Walkers with her bow and didn’t need his assistance. What she did need, was an explanation.

As they approached a camp nestled in the bushes, Jess slowed her pace and switched her bow up for her machete, gripping it in her hand until her knuckles turned white. She didn’t know why she was so uneasy about the situation, but a niggling in the back of her mind was telling her to proceed with caution. Rick signaled silently with his hand for Daryl to take the left while he took the right and the three of them crept closer, scoping out the area and listening for any sounds. Jess halted and squinted at the dull light in the trees, thinking she’d spotted movement in the entrance of a ripped and moldy tent.

The wind was knocked from her lungs when Daryl's arms locked around her middle, yanking her body backwards and causing her boots to scuff along the ground. He held her flush against his body while hissing in her ear after she yelped in surprise.

“Shhhh”

“Wha-what are you-?" She tried, but his hand shot up and clamped over her mouth. She could feel his breath on her neck as he held her still, his strength obviously hard to rival.

“Trap.” He breathed in her ear.

Rick quickly shuffled along from the far side and partially knelt in front of them, positioning himself in Jess’s eye-line. He raised an arm and traced along the nearly transparent wire that she had almost activated.

Jess wriggled from Daryl’s grasp and brushed angrily at her clothes. Why hadn’t she seen that? She had one that was identical set up by the gate of the fairground. Her mind had undoubtedly been elsewhere and now she was embarrassed about missing a trap she considered to be child’s play.

“Y’all go ahead” she told them both. “I’m too distracted to lead anymore”

The displeased glare that Daryl received as she passed him was not lost on him and he charges ahead, stepping over the trap with Rick and pushing through the trees towards the tent.

Everyone knows the feeling; when you’re looking at someone and you know that you’ve seen them somewhere before but your mind withholds vital information that would lead you to figure out exactly why that person was already in your memory before you happened upon them.

Daryl and Rick kept their distance and their weapons drawn while the scruffy, toothless man before them rambled about living in the woods for months and how hungry he was. Tilting her head to the side, Jess examined his arms and the rotund shape of his stomach. This man most certainly was not starving and his voice was also ringing a bell. It made her skin prickle and turn cold. She stalked back and forth behind her two comrades, aware that she was not avoiding the leering gaze of the man that was sitting on the floor outside his ruined tent. His clothing was in decent enough condition. Holes in the knees of his pants sewn up and his plain, blue shirt was devoid of the stains and rips that living in the wilderness would create. Something was amiss. Jess stopped walking and adjusted her grip on her machete.

“How many people have you killed?” Rick asked. It was one of three questions that were customary in the recruitment of outsiders that helped to identify a good person from a bad one.

“I dunno… a few. Gotta do what you’ve gotta do, right?!” The man declared before releasing a throaty, loose laugh that seared into Jess’s memory.

I know you.

She charged through the gap between Rick and Daryl and flung her machete at the man, stopping centimeters from his throat. Time suspended around her and for a few seconds, there was nothing but her rage and the flash of fear in the man’s eyes. She was sure Rick and Daryl were speaking to her, probably urging her to back down. But she heard nothing but the thud of her heartbeat in her head.

“Did you find what you were looking for in the city?” She hissed

“W-woah, lady. Relax. I don’t know what you-” he stammered, saliva sprayed from his toothless mouth as he spoke, dotting her blade with spit.

“-are you sure? Because I remember you. That phlegm infested laugh and how you drummed on the metal cage you drove through the streets with a half naked, screaming woman inside.”

Gradually, the sound of Daryl and Ricks voices began to sleep through her rage and she could sense Rick approaching her, holding a hand out towards the handle of her blade.

“What did you do to that woman?” She wanted to know.

“What woman? I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He cried

“The woman from the damn cage, asshole! I know you and I know the band of pricks you’re working with! I heard you in the woods, before we killed your buddy. You’re collecting women, and you’re out here as bait, aren’t you?! Poor, starving guy all alone in the woods, begging for help from passers by. Where are the rest of your group?”

The man’s face began to tremble with each escalation of fury in Jess’s voice. Her anger was rising and everything blurred when she bypassed needing an answer to her question and moved her arm back, readying herself to slice his head clean off.

Daryl came out of nowhere, barging into her and knocking her to the floor. Her machete left her hand and scattered across the dirt, skidding to a stop a few feet from her fingers while Daryl pinned her to the floor. Her back hummed with pain from the impact and her shoulders were locked under his weight. She kicked and bucked beneath him, her strangled yells sounding out across the area. She could see Rick lunge towards them and scoop up her blade with his revolver still pointed at the man, who was staring, wide-eyed at the scuffle.

“Let me go!” She growled “I know what he is… fucking rapist bastard! We need-we need to kill him!”

Daryl was shushing her as best he could, but his words were falling on deaf ears.

“Let me go, Daryl! GET OFF OF ME!” She bellowed. But he shifted his grip on her, most of his body now covering her in the dirt. He managed to bring a hand to her face, steadying her thrashing and lowered his lips close to her ear.

“I get it” he told her “I get it, Jess. But you gotta calm down. We gotta be sure”

“Let me go” she snapped

“Can’t do that until I know ya ain’t gonna chop his head off or put an arrow between his eyes. We can’t just kill him.”

“Yes, we can. He’s one of them. The men from the woods when we hid in the stream. You know what they are. I saw him, I looked back and I saw him. They pick up women and use them. I saw them in the city. They had a woman in a fucking cage, Daryl!” Her lungs were straining and her speech was forced from her throat into a stream of rambling. She paused and struggled, snapping her head to the side and locking eyes with the man “Rapist pig!”

“Hey, hey, hey, c’mon. Don’t look at him.” Daryl soothed, gently turning her head back to him. “Look at me.” He peered down at her flushed and enraged face, noticing that the fight seemed to have left her limbs “Look at me. it’s just me n’ you. Please.”

He was so close to her that the sweaty strands of his hair were tickling her face and it occurred to her that if she lifted her head slightly, she could see right down his shirt to the toned landscape of his chest. All at once, the situation became about more than just him keeping her in line.

At least I get to know what it’s like to be under you, Dixon.

The contact wasn't lost on Daryl either, who was becoming starkly aware of the dangers that friction coupled with being on top of an attractive woman held. He forced his mind to the task at hand and tried to remain logical and focused. But the curve of her hip and waist was making things extremely difficult.

She grit her teeth and wriggled while shooting him an angry look and breathing through her nose. She had to concede soon or the man had a good chance of escape. She needed to change tact and the only way she could do that was if Daryl allowed her to get up from the ground. She began to calm and shifted slightly under him.

“fine.” She spat.

She turned her head and huffed against the dirt, sending a cloud of brown dust up in front of him.

“Slowly. Don’t try nothin’. Please” he requested as he gradually moved back and let her have control back in her upper body. She sat up and he still held onto her legs, still straddling her thighs, untrusting and wary. She brushed the dirt from her hair and clothing and stared at him.

“You alright?” He asked

“You know we have to kill him. He’s not going anywhere near our people” She whispered with a quick glance at the man, who was now being grilled by Rick and staring down the barrel of his gun.

“We can use him. Keep in the cell. He could have information.” He reasoned.

It took all manner of pleading looks before Jess finally gave in and agreed not to hurt the man if Daryl let her up from the floor and when she was finally able to stand, she cleared her throat and dusted herself down, throwing an awkward glance Daryl’s way and finding him imitating her expression.

Maybe I should kick off again, that was kinda fun. She thought.

After a detailed discussion between Rick and Daryl while Jess paced angrily back and forth behind them, it was decided that the stranger was to be tied up and taken back to Alexandria’s jail where he would be interrogated for information. Daryl was confident in Jess’s declaration that she knew the man and had seen him twice before. If he was a part of a larger group that were a danger to the people of their town, then they needed to know what they were up against.

Throughout the negotiation and with a gun still pointed to his head, the man remained adamant that he had no idea what Jess was referring to and he was, in fact, simply a drifter living alone in the woods.

“You got any weapons?” Rick asked.

“No. Even if I did, you could shoot me in the head right now.” He answered.

Daryl and Rick didn’t believe him any more than Jess did and so it was with great caution that he was lifted to his feet with Jess volunteering to search him and bind his hands at his back. Rick handed her some rope and she stepped around him, lowering her eyes to his wrists which he’d brought around to his lower back. Between his hands, she spotted the unmistakable grip of a pistol tucked deep into his waistband.

“He’s got a gu-”

It was a blur and it felt like her feet lifted clear of the ground. In one swift movement an arm was clamped around her throat, pressing on her windpipe and her other arm was bent behind her back. A cold, circular pressure on her temple made her heart sink. Her chest constricted and fear hammered through her veins. She tried to struggle, to use her feet to stamp on his boots, her one, free hand desperately clawed at his forearm but he didn’t budge.

“Back up or I shoot her.” The man said calmly with a crazed grin on his face that made Daryl’s blood run cold. Both Rick and Daryl took a couple of steps back, Daryl’s face etched with worry. “Weapons on the floor”

“You don’t have to do this.” Rick tried as he and Daryl placed their weapons in the dust. “We’re just going to take you back and talk to you. Let her go.”

The man turned his head and pushed his nose into the side of Jess’s hair. He sniffed loudly, his eyes rolling up and a laugh crackling from his lungs.

“Let her go?” He chuckled. “Why would I do that? She’s a prize find. They don’t come in such good quality after all this time. He’s gonna loooove you, sweetheart.”

“I’ma fuckin’ kill you” Daryl growled.

Jess’s body began to shake with terror and her mind kicked into overdrive at the many horrendous possibilities that could befall her if the man was able to drag her away somehow. She tried to think, tried to formulate and plan and hoped that Daryl and Rick were coming up with something themselves.

Another mocking laugh and Jess could feel the vibration from it rumble through her back. Nausea swept over her and she swallowed hard, her eyes lifting to Daryl who stood, motionless and staring at her captor as if he was imagining tearing him limb from limb. Rick was still trying to talk him into submission, his every attempt met with mockery and an even tighter grip around her neck. Around his prize.

Out of nowhere, Daryl dived at them, his shoulder colliding with the man’s hip and lifting all of them into the air.

BANG

Jess landed with an almighty thud at the same time as the gunshot rang out through the woods. She shook her head as her eardrums ached and her hearing muffled and quickly felt over her clothes for wounds or blood. In her peripheral vision she could see Rick running towards them in slow motion.

Am I hit? Did he shoot me? I can’t feel anything. No, I’m not hit. Then who did he…?

She scrambled up to her knees, spinning around and taking in the scene before her. Everything was still moving in slow motion and her ears were now ringing with pain from the noise. Her mouth dropped open. She was hyperventilating. She blinked rapidly, able to make out Daryl scrapping with the man on the floor. Punches were being thrown and footsteps neared her. She was knelt on something metal; her knee was thrumming with discomfort. She shifted and picked up the strangers gun.

“ON YOUR KNEES ASSHOLE!”

It didn’t even sound like her own voice. It was loud and built of fury and fire and a determination unlike she’d never felt before. The man threw his hands up and climbed up from where he’d been subjected to Daryl raining punches down on him.

“Woah, lady. Everything was goin’ just fine until ya boyfriend here jumped in.” He commented. “We was just gonna have ourselves a little trip before I delivered ya to the big guy. It ain't nothin’. Just give this up n’ nobody else has to get hurt. We’re all just trying to survive, right? Whatever ways we know how? Why don’t ya just put down the gun? Huh? Sweetheart.”

Rick, who was also pointing his gun in the same direction, noticed Daryl roll onto his back and clutch his thigh. Strained grunts and cuss words filled the air and Jess put two and to together. They exchanged a glance that conveyed Jess would be the one to hold the assailant at gunpoint while Rick dashed over to Daryl and began applying pressure to his wound.

He shot Daryl.

Tears filled her eyes and her vision blurred. The man’s face distorting through a glassy view and her breath suddenly becoming incredibly difficult to pass through her lungs. Intermittently, her eyes flickered over to Daryl on the floor, losing blood quickly as the crimson pool in the dirt beneath him grew larger. Rick partially obscured her view as he tended to him, using his knife to carve off a part of his sleeve to double it up as a tourniquet.

“Daryl?!” Jess yelled, ignoring the pleas from her target who was still waffling on in front of her and trying to talk his way out of being shot in the head. “Daryl?! Are you Okay?!”

“Uggghh…yeah. M’okay.” Came the unconvincing reply. Her hands were shaking around the gun. The gun that she’d failed to check for ammo. She quickly examined the magazine, satisfied that she wasn’t being taken for a fool. Her blurred vision coupled with Rick’s body positioned in front of Daryl meant that she still couldn’t see much and she began to panic.

“RICK?!” She bellowed but was met with nothing. Her labored and shallow breaths sounded ten times louder than usual and she felt like everyone could hear the terrified rhythm of her heart pounding in her chest. “RICK?! ANSWER ME!”

“Yeah?” He shouted back.

“Tell me the truth, is Daryl lying to me?”

At her feet, the man was giggling maniacally and Jess was trying her hardest to ignore the uncomfortably unstable way in which he was conducting himself in such a situation.

“It’s funny.” He chucked “This is all pointless. You’re all going to die anyway! Ain't nothin’ but the hell down there and the hell up here!”

“Shut up” Jess snapped. “Rick?! I need an answer here!”

“Yeah. He’s hit. Got him in the thigh.” Rick eventually called over his shoulder to the tune of Daryl’s painful cries. Jess’s stomach flipped.

“Tell me that bullet hasn’t hit his femoral artery” She told him.

“No, I think it missed it.” He replied, straight away this time. “You alright over there?”

“Yeah. I got this.” She affirmed.

Jess messily swiped at her eyes with her sleeve, clearing her vision somewhat and allowing her to see the blackened rings under the man’s eyes, his toothless void of a mouth twisted into a sickening grin and the rapid swelling of his cheekbone that must have been courtesy of Daryl. She tilted her head to the side and shifted her weight evenly over both feet. Both of her hands gripped the gun and she sniffed away her tears, finding some semblance of strength that had suddenly been mustered from some part of her being. It didn’t need to be thought about, she knew what she had to do.

She lowered the gun slightly and pulled the trigger. The deafening noise ripped through the trees.

“Jess!” Daryl yelled, quieted when the man’s piercing screams sounded up from in front of her as she stood over him and watched him grip the bleeding, ragged wound in his thigh. He squirmed and writhed in agony. Her face was blank and her actions were fueled by a need for a violent revenge. Jess had never been a violent person and recoiled at any type of physical force. But it was the end of days, humanity was reduced to a ‘them or us’ mentality and when it came to those she cared about; it was a different. No one shot Daryl and got away with it. She slowly crouched in front of the bloodied stranger, hoping that he was feeling even an ounce of the torture that Daryl was experiencing.

“Shh” She hushed gently. “Shh. It’s going to be alright. You’ll see” The man gradually raised his head to her, his face revealing the extent of his pain. She held the gun up to his temple, choosing the angle so she could escape being splattered with blood. It was strange how her logic was working when everything else was a mess.

“No. No. Please” he cried, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Shh” she cooed. One of her hands sought his, taking hold of his bloodied fingers and tenderly rubbing her thumb across his skin. “It’ll be alright” She repeated. “You’ll see.”

BANG.

Bright sunlight was the first thing Daryl saw when he woke. He squinted in discomfort and turned his head away from the window. His head was heavy and his stomach was empty. His throat was dry and there was a dull numbness to his entire body that he thought was consistent with the time he’d raided Merle’s stash and taken his Oxycodone. But he didn’t remember taking anything. In fact, he didn’t remember much at all. He sucked in a deep breath, feeling his lungs tighten and his limbs tingle. Just how long had he been asleep?

Moving his head back, he scanned the room, alarmed to find that it was not the usual place he lay his head. He recognized it to be the infirmary and like a floodgate had opened, everything came rushing back to his memory. The woods. The stranger with the gun. Pinning Jess to the ground. The gunshot wound to his leg. Jess putting an end to it all.

Jess. Where is she?

He grunted and screwed his face up when he tried to move. It dawned on him that he was actually under the influence of strong painkillers that were doing a good job of masking the pain, but not managing to take it away altogether. His leg spiked with agony and he balled his hands into fists as he raised his head from the pillow and noticed the still form of Jess, sitting by the side of his bed with her head resting on her arm on the mattress. Her dark hair was covering her face and her hand was draped over his forearm. He swallowed; his throat drier than the Mojave Desert when he tried to speak.

“J-Jess?” He croaked.

She stirred and let out a small moan, adjusting her position on her bent arm. Daryl smiled at the sight, he didn’t want her to see him in his current state at all, but in truth there was no one else he wanted to see in that moment. He glanced down at her hand delicately placed over his forearm and rotated his wrist, bringing his elbow back and catching her hand in his. He could have stayed there like that for hours. With her fingers wrapped in his grip and her sleeping on his bed. But he needed to know if she was okay and so, he squeezed her hand.

Jess shot up and jerked her hand away from him, her chair scraped against the infirmary floor and her wild eyes checked the room before landing on Daryl. She brought her hand to her chest and caught her breath.

“Oh my god. You’re awake.” She sighed.

She ran a hand through her hair and blinked the sleep from her eyes. Daryl noticed her clothing, a far cry from what he was used to seeing her in. She wore plain black jeans and a white T-shirt. No logos, no emblems or superhero symbols.

“How long ya been here?” he rasped.

“Since we brought you in.” She said “I haven’t left this room.” He furrowed his brow and tried to comprehend exactly how long she meant and wondered how she’d managed to change if she’d not left the room. “Eric brought me some clothes. I got changed while you were sleeping.” She explained, like she could read his mind.

“How long have I been here?” He wanted to know.

“Almost forty-seven hours.” She yawned, covering her mouth and propping her head up on her elbows, using the mattress beside him as a table.

“Jesus.” He grunted. No wonder he couldn’t properly feel his limbs.

She rose to her feet and hovered her hands over him as he struggled to sit up. When she tried to offer her assistance, he quickly held up a hand and shook his head, wanting to complete the simple task himself.

For a moment, Daryl pondered over who had undressed him when he looked down at his bare torso and his arm hooked up to a drip as he sat there, shirtless and slowly dragging the covers up as far as they would go. It had, in fact, been Jess and Denise that had teamed up to get him into bed, aided by Rick, who did the heavy lifting due to Daryl passing out from blood loss and becoming a dead weight.

Denise, who was trained as a surgeon but ended up in psychiatry before the turn, had panicked when it was revealed just how much blood loss she was dealing with. Daryl’s blood type being a complete mystery to everyone in the room only served to heighten her worry. It was Jess that volunteered to donate, quickly announcing that she was O negative and therefore able to donate blood to anyone. She was quickly hooked up and gave as much as she could without collapsing, eventually falling asleep in the chair next to Daryl’s bed and moving only to explain the drama to Aaron and Eric, who brought her clothes and food and tried unsuccessfully to coax her back to the comfortable, warm, spare bed at their place.

“How are you feeling?” She questioned.

“Kinda lit” He admitted

“That’ll be the Oxy” She replied with a quick giggle. “The bullet missed your femoral artery but you’ve got some damage to repair and it’s going to take time. Denise got the bullet out but she says you’ll need physiotherapy to build the muscle strength back up in your leg."

“Mm. Great. This Oxy’s some good shit. You know where she keeps it?”

She didn’t bother to answer, only throwing him a stern but amused look under a raised eyebrow. Sitting back down in her chair, she was aware that the cushioned seat had now become flat and hard from hours of being compressed by her tired body. She really needed a bed for a couple of hours and a belly full of decent food. But leaving Daryl when he’d just woken up was not an option. She briefly reached up and checked his drip was still working, looking over the connections in the wires and gently turning his arm to check the valve. Feeling him staring at her, she met his eye and sat back against the backrest.

“You good?” He asked.

She didn’t know the answer. On the one hand, she was filled with overwhelming relief that he was alive and would live to carry on his constant mockery of her. On the other, she was horrified at the very real possibility that should the bullet had hit his artery, she’d have been preparing to attend his funeral instead of staring him down when he hinted at wanting more Oxycontin.

"Fine" She squeaked.

She cursed herself internally when she couldn’t hold her tears back. Like a freight train, the events of the last two days had hit her all at once and it was wholly overwhelming. Salty drops flittered down her cheeks and she lowered her head, hoping that Daryl was high enough not to notice.

“Don’t look fine.” He commented.

Typical. Turns out he’s not high enough to overlook me being an emotional wreck.

“Don’t. Don’t do that” He urged.

She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve and sighed quietly.

“Jess” He cooed, his tone of voice quieter and soothing “He’s dead. It’s over.”

“He shot you” she exclaimed abruptly, “I won’t have…have anyone hur-he shot you. It’s- no. Just no. I won’t have it.”

She wrung her hands in her lap, irritated by the sound of her blathering.

“Been shot before. Takes more than that to kill me” Daryl pointed out.

She managed to look up and meet his eyes, smiling at him tearfully and fiddling with the corner of the blanket on the bed. She froze when he subtly but very deliberately slid his hand across the sheets and touched her fingers to interrupt the twiddling of the blankets hem. He lightly rubbed back and forth over her index and middle fingers. Her skin ignited and she gazed down at his bloodstained hand over hers.

“What are ya doin? You actually cryin’ at me right now?” He asked.

“No” She lied with a croak.

“Stop this now, alright?” He told her. “C’mon, don’t be no crybaby, s’posed to be a badass.”

Jess couldn’t help but laugh. She was discovering fast that playful, well-meaning jest was actually customary to his personality, he was just very selective with whom he chose to share it.

“No, that’s you. Mr. Indestructible.” She chuckled with a couple of sniffs.

“Hey.” He uttered, noting her gaze drop again and forcing her to look up at him with a slight squeeze of her fingers. “Thanks for shootin’ that prick. I’d have done it myself but I was-”

“-Dealing with a hole in your leg?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll kill anybody that tries to hurt you.” She revealed without thinking. Too terrified to look at him for fear of him thinking her comment strange and dramatic, her lips parted and she fixed her vision down into her lap.

Oh, lord. Apparently, I’m just broadcasting everything in my head now.

“Same.” He mumbled unexpectedly.

The eye contact that transpired between them following such a deep confession was unlike anything either of them had felt before. It was an intense, lingering connection in which the rest of the room seemed to fade into a vignette effect and there remained only the two of them. Time became irrelevant, it could have been hours that passed and neither one of them would have noticed. It was only when a noise from the door snapped them out of their trance that Jess flinched and swallowed hard. Now slightly uncomfortable, but determined not to show it, Daryl simply observed her shift needlessly in her seat. It was quite the moment to him and one that meant so much without saying anything at all.

Masterlist

tagging as requested

@lilred254 @woundmetender

#daryl #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl x oc #daryl dixon #twd fanfiction

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flameontheotherside · 5 years ago

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I don't need to know everything

Since I've begun this journey, I've been clinging for dear life for my sanity. In spite of my accuracy, I'm still skeptical at times about my spiritual gifts. I lived in denial about it most of my life. I quickly explained away the "coincidences" and odd things happening around me especially while Erik was actively trying to grab my attention.

I didn't believe it until I saw it. When I saw it, I didn't want to believe it. Because it meant that there was so much to life I had wrong and no one likes being wrong. I had to shed that too. Now, I'm willing to admit error and other possibilities when they present themselves. Unfortunately some things kind of remain the same.

I do free readings for people.

I know some will or are testing my accuracy and it's totally fine. I enjoy helping people and it a win-win. They get answers and I get lots and lots of practice. It also gives me something to do instead of collecting money from the government (ssdi/disability income) for sitting on my ass, Im actually doing something for the good of humanity.

In general I rather not know what's in store for me or feel the need to constantly ask silly question. I don't need to rely on Erik to grab angels, deceased loved ones, god or whatever. The interaction with these mean so much more to me when they come on their own accord. To them it doesn't matter, they are always eager to help.

Sometimes my anxiety gets the better of me.

I will do a reading to ease my worries but will try my best not to harp on it. Like when I was about to get my disability hearing. My guides including God and Erik said Id be approved but my anxiety was like, "B-b-b-b-but!"

😘💕❤Have a great weekend you guys!

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mercutial · 6 years ago

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A More Wholesome Take on Victor Vallakovich

Hey guys! I hadn't found any deeper interpretations that made Victor out to be particularly wholesome, so here's the version I'm using in my campaign.

I've read u/guildsbounty's post on Victor, and while I love it because it fits in so well with the gothic horror themes, my party had already become friendly with Victor and he had already been established as a mild-mannered guy who didn't really have an aversion to people in general, mostly just timidity.

I've borrowed elements from u/MandyMod's fleshed out version of the Vallakovich household - the parts about Vargas and Lydia neglecting Victor emotionally for pretty much his entire life.

Background

Vargas has avoided contact with Victor out of fear of being abusive like his own father was to him, and Lydia is no more than a brainwashed peanut. They don’t really bother socializing him with people outside of the household either... so Victor has been deprived of healthy human relationships. To pass the time, he read all of the books in his father’s library, which were mostly old histories and a few on philosophy, passed down from his great-grandfather.

Cats

In lieu of human relationships, Victor has always loved cats. Cats are the closest thing he's had to companionship. He understands their need for space, their fickleness, and he loves it when he can finally earn their affection.

His first cat he found as a stray kitten and named it Twinkle, because as a child he read a book that talked about stars in the night sky, and how they “twinkled”. Being a Barovian, he had never seen a clear night sky before. So he named his cat after the sight he wished he could see, out in the free and open world beyond the mists.

However, Twinkle met an untimely end. (You can decide whether this is caused by the Wachter boys, either accidentally or intentionally, or if Twinkle was killed by an accident or rabid dog or something.) Victor was devastated. He refused to bury Twinkle, keeping the cat’s decaying body in a chest in his room until a maid noticed the smell and freaked out, prompting his parents to make him bury Twinkle in the garden. Later he went and dug up the grave in secret and took the body back to the attic. He never buried it, even after the body rotted away, leaving only the skeleton, which he kept hidden in an old toy chest.

He had read in a book somewhere of a mage who had been able to raise animals and people from the dead. Surely that was possible? Some of the travelers who came through Vallaki from were capable of magic. Driven by the promise of possibilities, he acquired spellbooks and books about magery, scouring them for knowledge. His two focuses: magic to raise the dead, and teleportation out of Barovia.

Magic

Eventually through numerous trials and errors, he figured out how to perform simple raisings. Despite the fact that Twinkle was now a mere skeleton, when Victor attempted to raise Twinkle, it was an undeniable success. The little feline skeleton picked itself up off the ground, turned to face him, and rubbed up against his leg just as it had always done. He was overjoyed.

His teleportation experiments weren’t so successful, however. The incomplete diagrams that he had acquired were not enough for him to complete a working teleportation circle. No matter what he did, the countless circles he drew in chalk, in ashes, in blood all remained inert.

Stella

Around a year and a half before the campaign started, Lady Wachter began to push her agenda of attempting to wed Stella to Victor, likely due to her husband’s recent death. Victor and Stella had met a few times in the past, but neither had really been made to interact. But now Lady Wachter began bringing Stella over for tea, “accidentally” bumping into Victor the few times he was out and about, and insisting that she and the Vallakoviches leave the two alone to talk on their own.

At first, Victor was resistant to the forced interactions. He had always been shy around people, and occasionally mocked or at least stared at, and so always tried to limit his time with other people as much as possible. But for whatever reason, Stella seemed to take a genuine interest in him. She was a cheerful and polite person, and her well-mannered inquiries into Victor’s daily life and activities grew on him over time. When eventually asked about why he spent so much time indoors in the attic, he dropped his hedging and timidly hinted at his “experiments”.

To his surprise, she wasn’t put off. In fact, when he admitted that he wanted to find a way to cross the mists, Stella’s eyes grew wide in fascination. Uncharacteristically, she immediately began bombarding him with more questions about what he was doing, how he was doing it, what he had tried. Flustered, he offered to show her.

And so the two of them began to work together on the experiments in earnest. After swearing her to secrecy, Victor brought Stella up to speed on everything he had found – not difficult as she proved to be a quick learner. Lady Wachter and the Vallakoviches were curious at first as to why their children were spending so much time together, but the Vallakoviches quickly lost interest, and Fiona decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Soon it felt to Victor as if progress had more than doubled; Stella’s fresh inquiries and perspective revealed a couple of the faulty assumptions that Victor had subconsciously incorporated into his calculations.

Then at last, a breakthrough! One day, one of their circles came to life and zapped a test mouse away. However, Victor and Stella soon realized there was still some kind of issue with the circle. The various inanimate objects and mice that they zapped through only came back in pieces, and even then only occasionally came back at all.

The two didn’t give up, however. At this point, several months into their pursuit, they were not only energized by their recent successes, but had also grown close. Perhaps, Victor hoped, as real friends… or perhaps even something more?

He had never really felt this close to anyone before – not his parents, not the servants, and certainly not the other townspeople. In contrast he found himself actually wanting to see Stella again, looking forward to hearing her lively voice, seeing her bright smile at the front door. He had always suspected that the love spoken of in his history books and novels might have a basis in reality, but he had never really felt it to be true until now. His parents’ loveless mess of a marriage, built upon the farce of a happy town they had created, had never come close to the ideal. But what he felt when he saw Stella… perhaps that was what the books meant. And perhaps the shining looks she gave him, the smiles and knowing winks they traded in their parents’ presence, the little inside jokes they had started to develop… perhaps that meant she felt the same way.

They had also begun to open up about things other than their experiments. He learned what she thought of her family – her concerns about her mother, her loving but somewhat antagonistic relationship with her jokester brothers. And he poured out his heart about his parents – how he wondered, after all he’d read in his books, whether something could have been different between him and them.

At one point they made several modifications to their most recent iteration of the teleportation circle. They were no longer receiving body parts of unfortunate mice and rats in return, but they were also fairly certain that the bodies weren’t being vaporized. Perhaps, perhaps they were really sending them elsewhere? But there was no good way to tell. Unless…

The Accident

Stella offered to send herself through the circle. Victor objected vehemently. Hadn’t she seen what happened to some of the things they sent through? It was their first full-scale argument, and it ended in tears and Stella storming back to her house.

Later that night, Victor was awakened by a sound on the stairs. He made it quietly to the door just in time to see someone slipping into the attic. Following, he discovered the intruder was Stella – activating the teleportation circle and stepping into it.

It all happened so quickly. One moment Stella was setting foot into the circle, the next thing Victor saw a blur of fur and realized one of his cats had darted into it as well… and then a flash of light blinded him.

In hindsight, it was lucky that Stella hadn’t been shredded to pieces, sent far away, or ended up with cat-like features or fur. But her mental state was just about as impossible to explain, and Victor was in no state to explain it. Lady Wachter was furious. She immediately took Stella home and locked her away while threatening the Vallakoviches with all manner of consequences she could safely threaten, and all Victor could do was watch miserably, numbly, in utter shame. Couldn’t he have stopped her if he’d just been a little faster? If he hadn’t lingered on the stairs? He should have known, he should have kept the attic door locked. In fact, he never should have introduced her to magic.

Victor had always been reclusive, but after the incident, he often shut himself away for days on end. Tray after tray of uneaten food sat by his door.

Eventually he went back to his attic and his books, but with a new objective in mind: restoring Stella Wachter.

During the Campaign

Stella is the only person who has ever shown that she truly likes Victor. He would feel numb about his parents dying, but if Stella died, he would probably lose all will to live. So she’s basically all he has left. If the party befriends him, he’ll likely ask them to help him find a scroll of Greater Restoration and/or someone who can cast it on Stella (e.g. Rictavio.)

However, even if the party manages to free Stella and find a scroll/caster, Victor will be nervous about restoring her to sanity. He’s afraid that she’ll be angry and blame him for her condition, and she’ll end up hating him… like everyone else in his life. To that end, he’s unsure if he should have someone perform a Greater Restoration on her at all.

And the way Stella is now (if she’s freed and gets to spend time with Victor), at least she’s very affectionate with him. She likes him a lot and wants to be with him all the time. If her sanity was restored, would she still feel that way? He doubts that. Why would anyone like him so much anyway?

Somewhere in the pit of his heart he feels that her former affection towards him was a fluke, or worse, fake. He knows that keeping her from being restored is selfish, but he also justifies it by arguing that it’s far crueler to force someone to understand the bleak world than it is to have them live in blissful ignorance. He feels that she’s probably happier being the way she is now. He feels like he would be.

–––––

So that’s it! Hope this was an interesting take on Victor and gives you a few ideas for how to run him in your campaigns. In mine, it led to an interesting (though a little frustrating) roleplaying scenario between Victor and the party when he started getting cold feet about using Greater Restoration on Stella. Let me know if there’s anything you want me to expand on!

#curse of strahd #victor vallakovich #cos #dnd #dnd 5e homebrew

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fandombrainrots · 3 years ago

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I wanna add so I hope you don’t mind!

(*´˘`*)♡ (spelling errors may occur)

Tim was the unlucky bat who found Jason first. It took all his will to not empty his stomach there and then at the neon gore before him. Jason was hunched over the… thing they had been researching for the past week now demolished as Jason ate away. Tim shakily taped his comms as he watched Jason continue to eat, growls escaping him every so often.

“Tim? Did you find Red Hood?” He heard Barb’s voice in his ear, yet it felt fuzzy. “Uh ya. He uh, he ate it.” Tim could feel the silence from everyone on the comms. “Red Robin please repeat that?” He heard Bruce’s voice echo over the comms. “He. He ate. The creature. Oh god it’s awful. It’s everywhere.” Tim slowly fell to the ground, the scene finally hitting him hard. Tim heard as everyone went wild over the comms, but all he could focus on was Jason finishing off the creature he had caught. His panic was dimmed by minor awe at the sound that echoed from Jason, purrs rumbling through the alley as it seemed Jason was regaining his sanity.

“Red? Hey are you ok? Why are you on the..-“ Tim registered that Jason was aware, but the silence was defending as Jason’s own horror dawned his face. It was perfect timing as Bat’s dropped down into the alley. Tim counted in his head that only Nightwing and Batman seemed to have come, probably best since the others would have reacted badly. “Bat.. what did I do?” Jason whimpered out, staring at his hands that were covered in green. “I don’t know Hood. Tell me, what happened before, this.” Batman had crouched down in-front of Hood, a hand resting on his shoulder. Jason felt like a kid again, yet couldn’t help but feel calm.

“I was chasing it, getting more frustrated. It felt, it felt like it was mine. Then there was this other guy, he was gonna eat it too. I felt so broken when I saw he had caught the thing, but the next thing I knew it was in my hands and the dude was backing away apologizing. Then, then I was here…” Bruce listened to Jason mumble out the events, slowly leading him to the Batmobile that had been brought over.

“That boy probably did something then. We will have to do some tests to make sure that you will be ok after ingesting whatever that was made of.” Jason just nodded, now silent as he was put inside the Mobile. “Nightwing, Red Robin, can you handle cleanup here?” Batman looked back to Tim and Dick, who was helping Tim stand once more. “I got this Bats, though if Red here thinks he needs to go I can handle it alone.” Tim wanted to wave him off, and say that he could help. Yet as he went to speak he felt his stomach give and he quickly closed his mouth.

“Alright. Red Robin, head back to base. Nightwing please be quick, I will want you there for debrief.” Batman spoke as Tim grabbed his grappling hook. Tim started to swing towards the cave at the same that Batman drove off in the Batmobile.

—————————————————————

Danny was freaking out. He still felt awful, not realizing that there was another halfa in Gotham. No, that there was another halfa at all! Now that he was away, all he could think about was how hungry the guy seemed, and how sick. He doubts he even realizes he’s a halfa! With that, Danny set his face. He was gonna help the new halfa (his core echoed child in his mind) as he started planning. The kid, Halfa, was obviously starved, so he would catch him some really big ghost blobs to eat! Some ecto-dejecto would help as well, though he doesn’t know if the guy prefers needles or not, so he will just bring the drinkable versions instead. He will also bring the PowerPoint Sam made for him, “So you’re a New Species, Here’s How Your Body Works now!” (Sam got bored one day and figured it would be funny if it was ever used.)

Danny had now spent over 5 hours gathering blobs, the little creatures now happily humming in the backpack he popped them in. Shouldering the bag, he grabbed the Ecto-dejecto’s that he placed in the side pockets of the bag, and a thermos of ectoplasm in the other. (It was mixed with tea, courtesy of Jazz). Danny reviewed what he knew, deciding to wait around the Halfa’s territory to give the gift to him, hoping that giving some space will help the new kid calm down and hopefully not freak out.

Jason, would in fact, freak out.

—————————————————————

Hope you enjoy! I might write more later, anyone is free to add!

Dp X dc prompt!

In this prompt, liminals/ghosts need to consume fresh ectoplasm to stay healthy and not starve. In addition, the headcanons “only those exposed to ectoplasm can see ghosts as they really are”, and “how people see ghosts is based a lot on their personal perceptions of reality.” have been mushed together. Like, someone un-exposed to ectoplasm knows that SOMETHING is there and it’s scary, but they haven’t been exposed to enough ectoplasm to actually comprehend what it is, so their mind just fills in the empty space with whatever their scared of + what makes sense to them for the context.

So Gotham has a lot of ambient ectoplasm and that’s enough to keep Jason from starving completely, but nowhere near enough to be healthy. The inherent ectoplasm he has is basically rotten cause Lazarus pit be like that, so although he is alive and well in human terms, from a ghostly perspective he is extremely emaciated and sickly. Jason has felt varying degrees of empty and BAD since he came back, but there’s not exactly a handbook for this sort of thing, so Jason just accepts feeling terrible and being quick to anger as his new reality.

Cue the bat family calling him up and asking him to check out some weird reports they’ve been getting. Apparently people have been seeing stuff- a shadowy floating baby, a rotting animal corpse walking around, a ball of energy floating through a wall, etc. Which would be strange enough, but since the sightings started popping up at the same time, Bat’s is theorizing that all the sightings are being caused by one entity. And a lot of the reports are in Jason’s stomping grounds, so they want him to take a look.

He obliges (not because he wants to help his family, it’s JUST because it sounds interesting, ok?) and quickly finds the whatever it is. And he kind of wants to laugh because THIS is what everyone was freaking out about? The thing looks like a gumbrop. Granted it was the size of a cat and glowing a suspiciously Lazarus green, but STILL, what on earth was everyone so scared of?

Regardless, it was in his territory and needed to go. It moved surprisingly fast once it spotted him, and it was taking a lot for Jason not to lose sight of it. Oracle offers to send someone to help and even Jason is surprised at how angrily he says no. But maybe he shouldn’t be- he’d seen it first, it was HIS to catch. He discarded his helmet after her next question- she was distracting and the little thing was now periodically turning around to chirp mischievously at him and he was going to GET it, darn it.

He tells himself that the frantic urge to catch the creature was just mission excitement. The wild, clawing NEED to have it was just enthusiasm. The aching pull in his stomach wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, his mouth was watering because it had been dry, NO other reason.

He was fine. This was fine, nothing was wrong, he just REALLY needed this thing.

He loses sight of it for a second, but it’s fine because he knows the direction it’s going.

He turns the corner and pulls up sharply. The gumdrop thing has been caught, but not by him. There’s a figure holding its limp form, staring at him with wide eyes, obviously in the middle of eating it.

Jason distantly thinks he should be confused or horrified, but all he can feel is devastation. It was supposed to be HIS- this was HIS territory, HIS place, he should be the one to get it. But he hadn’t been fast enough and now he wasn’t going to get ANYTHING-

Danny, meanwhile, feels like the biggest jerk in the world. He’d caught the fat blob ghost more out of habit than hunger, since it had practically run into him zipping around the corner. But this other liminal had been in the middle of hunting it and was now looking at him with abject betrayal.

Danny’s feelings of guilt got worse as he crept a bit closer and realized that the other liminal was sick. They’re ectoplasm felt tainted, contaminated in a way that spoke of long term illness. Danny’s brain was going a mile a minute, connecting the pieces. This liminal felt fairly strong so he probably had his own territory, and since he was sick he probably couldn’t go far to hunt. Which meant that in essence, Danny had waltzed into the house of a starving, bedridden liminal and eaten directly off his plate.

Yeah, Danny was officially the worst.

But he hasn’t actually eaten it yet, so there’s still time to fix it! Danny quickly offers to share, rambling to the not-quite-starving liminal that it’s like the fattest blob ghost he’s ever seen and he really doesn’t mind sharing and he can have most of it if he wants, Danny’s not that hungry and pretty please don’t be upset?

Jason can hardly understand anything he’s so ravenous at this point, but he does understand that he’s being offered the food he thought he’d lost, so he chows down without any fuss, much to Danny’s relief. He tries not to judge how messily the guy is eating cause who knows how long its been since he’d caught any fresh ectoplasm and its honestly no worse than Danny was the first time he ate a blobbie.

Except- the guys tainted ectoplasm seemed to be fading? Huh, maybe the illness wasn’t as terminal as it seemed on the surface, if all that was needed to fix it was a decent meal.

Danny decides to leave, the liminal is obviously going to be fine and once they’re head clears they’re probably going to be embarrassed that Danny saw them in such a state and he doesn’t want to deal with that kind of awkwardness. He carefully leaves, relieved that something that could have ended very badly had worked itself out.

Meanwhile, Barbara is trying to get Jason to respond to her without success. The last contact was almost half an hour ago when he’d snarled at her for asking if he needed someone to come help. She was pretty sure he’d ditched his comm after that, but his trackers were still active and she could see he’d come to a stop. He’d been very clear that he didn’t want help, but they knew nothing about this entity and Barbara is hardly going to chance that he might be slowly bleeding out somewhere. She sends someone (or multiple someones) to go check on him.

They find Jason splattered head to toe in faintly iridescent gore, hunched over with glowing eyes and softly growling as he eats something unidentifiable.

#in case it was unclear the bat family thinks he ate someone lol #and he's not lucid enough to correct them at the moment #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp #fanfic prompt #danny fenton #jason todd #fanfiction prompt #Jason is feral when hangry #Danny means well #Danny you can’t just appear in front of this guy and present him with the same thing he brutally ate a week earlier #Batman is concerned #Bruce has one good parenting moment but that’s it #we Stan a purring halfa #Danny is chaotic

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codylabs · 7 years ago

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Chapter 22: Irredeemable

Links: P 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

Wendy and Robbie reached the top of the hill first, while Stan and McGucket’s old legs struggled to keep up. “So…” Robbie scratched his head and looked around when Wendy came to a stop. “Like, what are we doing here?”

“Ugh.” Wendy sighed. “I guess this is the part of the tradition where I act needlessly cryptic while you put it all together for yourself, huh…? Kay, see those weird cliffs over there?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and now we’re at the top of a circular hill…”

“Yeah…?” Robbie looked around for a few seconds. Then, faster than Wendy expected, his brain connected the puzzle pieces. His jaw dropped and his eyes bulged. “Wha… OOOOOOH… Duuuuuude…”

Wendy bent down, wrapped her arms under a large rock, and levered it off to the side, revealing the smooth titanium hatch leading straight down into the Earth. “Consider yourself educated.” She grunted.

“Whaa… So… So like… So like there’s acutally aliens…?!?” Robbie demanded. “Like, literal, actual aliens?”

“They’re all dead.” Wendy answered, as she tried to fit her fingers into the seam around the hatch. “Every last one; dead…” Her fingers weren’t small enough to get a grip in there. “Urgh… Dang it! My kingdom for a magnet gun…”

“Uh… Here. I got this…” Robbie bent down beside her, and stuck his own fingers into the gap. His were able to fit somehow, and together they lifted the hatch open.

The deep, black, shadowy pit of the triangular vent yawned open below them, promising mystery, danger, and rumors of ancient horror for any who might brave it. Wendy started down the ladder without a second thought, pausing only briefly to slip on a headlamp. Robbie was wearing a headlamp too all of a sudden, and he followed her more hesitantly, just as Stan and McGucket came over the rise.

Stan’s half-hearted request to “Hey, wait up!” caused him to hesitate one more time, but Wendy was getting further ahead, and he didn’t want to lose track of her. Stan’s sigh of “Ugh… Kids…” Echoed down the shaft after them, fading in volume with the light.

Down they went.

It was just as dark, wet, and creepy as Wendy remembered. The rugged tendrils of Earthly tree roots seemed out of place among the smooth curves and hard seams of the aged metal. The blackness extended as far as the illumination of their headlamps would reach, interrupted only rarely by a stray beam of sunlight from above, shining down through cracks in the damaged dorsal hull. The faint, ghastly echoes of their movements and breathing whispered back at them from the distance. And now, more than ever, Wendy felt like she was being watched. But none of it held her attention for long. Sure, ‘aliens’ once held a kind of wonder, but that magic was long dead.

For now, there was only the mission. She pulled out Dipper’s journal, and turned to a page he’d put down after their last adventure down here: a map of the wreck. According to it, their destination should be somewhere straight below…

For Robbie, of course, the magic of this place was only just getting started. And he wondered with great anticipation what other secrets the ancient tomb had to offer.

Stan and McGucket caught up to them near the bottom of the ladder, and together the party descended ever deeper, toward the control room at the center of the ship.

-Warning: 4 unknown intruders registered in crucial engineering sector.

-Drones 154 and 155 respond.

The security system became active. The red lights of two armed security drones winked to life deep in the ship, and their spherical bodies hovered off the ground.

Normal programs were very strict for dealing with those who would tamper with the ship. When unauthorized personnel attempted to access any crucial area, procedure dictates they be treated with extreme hostility. If the intruders were sentient, capture and containment was priority. If the intruders were non-sentient or overly hostile, termination was permissible.

-Hostility and threat assessment programs running.

-Following program 003: Drones 154 and 155 move to intercept and analyze.

They began to make for the center of the ship.

-Warning: System error!

For some reason, they stopped, and approached no further. Because long ago, their security officer had installed another program in their mainframe. This program told them that the reactor control room was a very special case. If intruders ever breached this room, they were to follow an alternative procedure.

-Following program +8*%__!3/e^){nB--______: Stand by, observe, and await instruction.

-Drones 154 and 155 standing by.

The control room’s blast doors creaked upon stiffly, and the musty smell of ancient death puffed out of the seam. Unfazed, Wendy and Stan put their fingers into the crack and levered it even farther open; now wide enough to walk through. The beams of their lights swept the room’s interior, illuminating the hundreds of high-tech controls, consoles and screens. But Robbie had expected all that. What he hadn’t expected were the dozen semi-squid-like alien bodies, lying crusty and mummified across the floor in various position of pain. And he hadn’t expected the graffiti either; insane scribblings of alien madness scrawled across the walls in odd-colored blood.

“WOOOAH…” He blinked in a radical sort of way. “Duuuuuude…”

Stan and Wendy stepped boldly through the door without a hint of fear, leaving Robbie standing with McGucket.

“It’s harmless…” The inventor muttered. “Nothin’ in there that kin hurt ya… What killed em all is long gone…”

Robbie looked at him. “Well, yeah, I could guess that much, but—”

“Harmless.” McGucket repeated again, and Robbie realized that he was talking to himself. “Just death… Folks die all the time… What killed ‘ese fellers is dead. What killed ‘em is dead… And their madness died with ‘em… the madness died with ‘em… It’s okay…” The old man finally convinced himself, and took one hesitant step through the doors. “It’s okay…”

Robbie peaked in after the other 3, unsure whether he should be wary or not. “Hey, uh… Like… What the heck happened in here?” He gestured to the bodies. “Who are these things?”

“The ship’s engineers…” McGucket answered. “Murdered after a cruelest fashion…”

“Got nuked.” Stan stated simply.

Wendy felt he needed a better explanation than that. “Okay, so like…” Her mind drifted back to her and Dipper’s adventure down in this wreck. They’d probed around this room out of curiosity, and happened to find the journal of the last sane engineer… Was it really only 6 days ago? “They locked themselves in here during the crash.” She explained. “When the rest of the ship was going nuclear, they sealed the doors to stay safe… And, uh… I guess… Okay, the engine of the ship was going all screwy, tearing up reality or somesuch.” She pointed to the scrawled words on the walls. “They started to lose their sanity, their grip on reality, even began to see into the future I guess… I’m not sure how much of it was Bill Cipher’s doing, but he was there too. He got into their dreams, brains, sanity… And he tore their minds apart… And… The last sane engineer, that guy…” She pointed. “I guess he was working on a modification to contain Bill’s weirdness… And then he lost it. He opened the door, and the radiation from the rest of the ship cooked them all alive… Sterilized them too, which is why they never rotted… And now here we are.”

“Oh…” Robbie frowned. “So… But you killed ‘Bill’, right? So this is all, like, literally perfectly harmless in every way now?”

“Yep.” Stan nodded.

“I guess.” Wendy shrugged.

“So…” Robbie pointed a thumb at McGucket, whose eyes were darting about, and whose hand seemed to be nervously seeking out the handle of his death ray. “What’s he on about?”

“Oh, heh…” McGucket immediately let go of the death ray when he realized how he must seem. “You know me… Just… Just a tad superstitious is all… Heh… Eh… Sorry…”

“Hey.” Wendy put a hand on his shoulder. “We’re all on edge. Just get the computer running, man…” She gave him a pat. “Then we can blow this pop stand. Yeah?”

“Yeh…” He seemed to regain some measure of confidence as he remembered their mission, and managed to tear his eyes away from the bodies long enough to make it to the main console on the other side of the room. From there, he leaned the death ray against a wall, and fished a small library of tools out of his overalls. Once his hands were wrapped around the familiar screwdriver and soldering gun, they steadied. “Okay, uh… Ya still got that computatraption on ya?”

“Yeah…” Wendy unslung her backpack, and pulled out the power control coupling.

“Kay, ya wanna get that installed while I start in on this?” He pointed to a loose panel on the wall. “If my reckoning of the pipelines and wiring is proper, it should go somewhere right in there…”

The other 3 managed to roll the panel aside, and sure enough, there was a series of 8 slots behind it, each shaped exactly like the device Wendy carried. 7 of the slots were blocked with the destroyed pieces of burned-out older ones, but the last slot was empty.

The coupling fit perfectly.

To one side of McGucket’s console, a single small green light flickered on.

“Wull, I’ll be a horn-swaggled boilerplate, I think we can get it runnin!” He laughed once, then caught himself. “This… I… Sorry, it’s just… This… This woula been a happy day…”

“How long you need?”

“Eh…” McGucket fished out a beefy computer, and plugged it into the console. A few more green lights turned on, and he began to type. “Gimme two hours?”

-Warning: Intrudurs have lifted the pre-ignition safety locks on reactor 5 without authorization.

The drones were programmed with a very particular set of skills: containing escaped test subjects, breaking up fights between passengers, defending restricted areas, pacifying external dangers, that sort of thing. Their entire minds were devoted toward threat assessment and combat.

But here was something else: the intruders actually appeared to be fixing the ship’s last remaining reactor. This type of situation was considerably outside the range of what they knew how to think about. There were absolutely no pre-programmed procedures for dealing with beneficial intruders.

The drones may not be very smart, but they were smart enough to know when they weren’t smart enough. -Warning: Directive unclear. Living officer, please advise. They requested.

But of course, the security officer had been dead for a long time now. A very long time. Their inquiries hadn’t received response for ages and ages… But they didn’t question that. They didn’t have the capacity to understand that. As far as they knew, their overseer was simply in the restroom or sleeping or something.

So they didn’t question it either when, for the first time in millennia, this very same overseer suddenly started giving them input again.

-Input: Stand by at long range and do not engage. Was the command. -Analyze the intruders’ biology and search for deviant life signs. Do not consider hostile until instructed.

-Directive accepted. Awaiting further input.

-Input: Display sensor feed on my monitor.

-Sensor feed linked. Awaiting further input.

-Input: That’s all for now.

-Drones 154, 155, 157 and 158 standing by. Welcome back, Lieutenant.

Two hours was a long time to wait when you’re on-edge, and even longer when you’re standing still in one place.

Twenty minutes in, they found themselves already bored.

Stan was asleep on one of the alien seats, a magazine propped up on his lap.

McGucket, who had no seat nearby and still had work to do, pressed a button on his robotic trousers to lock himself in an upright pose. His quiet hummed song joined Stan’s snoring as the only sounds in the room.

Wendy, still too restless to sit, just leaned back against a wall and stared at the insane alien graffiti. These words which once told the future… She wanted to read again what they said.

Robbie was even more restless than her. He wasn’t quite sure what to do while he waited, so he curiously broke the head off one of the dead bodies and began to examine it. It had three eyes, a sideways opening mouth… The mummified skin was thin and crusted, but must have once had the form of flexible scales… Fascinating. He smacked the skull against a wall, hoping to break it open to see what might be hidden inside.

“HEY!” Wendy noticed what he was doing, and barked in his direction.

He froze.

“Look, just…” She sighed, shrugged, motioned for him to set the head down. “Hey man, just a little respect, huh?”

“Right, right, yeah…” He set it down hastily. But then he thought about her comment for a moment, and frowned. “Wait, respect?” He asked. “What, for him?”

“For all of them. Dude.” Wendy spread her arms. “People died here, okay? Just… You know.”

“The work they did here kept Weirdmageddon from goin’ global…” McGucket muttered over his shoulder. “They’s heroes in their kind…”

“Well, sure, good for them.” Robbie shrugged. “But they weren’t doing it for you, they were probably just trying to save their own skins! And did a mighty fine job of it too… Look at these suckers!”

“Hey man, look—”

“What?” Robbie asked. “So they tried to save themselves, went hilariously mad, then killed themselves and accidentally, randomly, unforeseeably, did a favor for you a couple thousand years later… So what? They’re all just dead now, so who cares? I mean… They’re not even people, they’re just… lanky squid-type things.” He gave the detached head a spiteful little kick, and it rolled off. “Who cares?” He repeated.

Wendy and McGucket stared at him for a minute. McGucket subtly crossed himself as he turned back to his computer. Wendy shrugged and folded her arms.

Robbie put his hands on his hips. “What?” He asked again.

“Look…” Wendy told him. “If I’ve learned anything this past week, it’s that aliens are just folks… Sure, they may have tentacles or three eyes or scales or… Or they might have metal skin or might’ve grown up on some asteroid a dozen galaxies away, but in the end… They’re still just folks… These guys…” She spread her arms. “They probably had wives, or… Or parents, or kids, or… Eggs, or whatever the heck, I don’t know… But there were friends, family, people who cared about them. They died right in the middle of their hopes and dreams, they still had their souls… Somebody on some asteroid a dozen galaxies away still missed them… Somebody waited every day for them to come back except they didn’t. Somebody wished they’d never left except they did…. Somebody loved them. They’re not monsters. They’re not aliens… They’re just… People…”

Robbie frowned.

As if this idea were entirely new to him. As if it made him think.

Wendy turned back to the graffiti.

McGucket kept typing.

Stan kept Snoring.

Robbie spoke up again. “You ever met an alien?”

Wendy nodded. “Betty and Barney. Well… We called them Betty and Barney. Dunno how to pronounce their real names… But they were the farmers responsible for the Forest of Daggers, and we met their ghosts. They were pretty decent actually. Didn’t try to haunt us, even though they could’ve… Didn’t try to kill us, although they could’ve tried… Didn’t have to help us escape, but I think they did… I dunno.” She opened Dipper’s journal to a sketch he’d made of the two specters, and showed it at Robbie. “These were them… Good people.”

He took the book gently, and studied the faces. They looked monstrous, to be sure. Mouths full of razor-sharp saws, haunting, ghostly electric eyes, and nightmarish metallic skeletons floating in the air… Yet she said they were decent people. She said they were just folks. Dead folks. Loved folks… Even friendly to the organic living… They had names… They were… Friends…

Robbie closed the book and handed it back to her.

They were silent for a few moments more.

Then Robbie stood up, flipped his headlamp back on, and made for the door.

“Where you going?” She asked.

“I dunno…” He shrugged restlessly. “Just wanna look around. Wanna get out of here.”

She glanced back at McGucket, standing next to Stan’s sleeping form. They can handle themselves. Wendy thought. And she looked at the alien bodies. “Yeah. Me too.” She stood up and started after him. “And it’s dumb to go alone anyway…”

“Right…”

-Completed scan of intruders. The drones reported back. 4 bioforms, all carbon-based, aerobic, terrestrial vertebrates. Species unknown. Speed and strength moderate. Weaponry and defensive capabilities unknown. Bioform 1 is recognized from previous intrusion; threat level 16, high. Other threat levels unknown.

-Input: Do any of the intruders display abnormalities?

-Bioform 2 possesses an alternative body chemistry including: slightly adjusted air and fluid handling cycles, no adrenaline and other ordinary biological markers, and inconclusive bone density. Awaiting further input.

-Input: I want drone 154 to lock its sensors on bioform 2. Give me control of drone 154’s basic movement controls.

-Controls linked. Awaiting further input.

-Input: That will be all.

-Drones 154, 155, 157, 158, 163, and 164 standing by.

“Robbie…? Hey, your brain broke or what?” His eyes seemed to be fixed on the far wall of the vast engine room, as if mesmerized or perplexed by something. She snapped her fingers in front of his face to bring him out of his daze.

“Oh, uh…” He shook his head and turned back to her. “Yeah, sorry, I just, like… Sorry. Just spaced out for a minute…”

She looked where he’d been staring a moment ago, but couldn’t make out anything except perfect blackness in the distance. “Did ya see something?”

“I don’t know… What’s over that way anyway?”

“Uh…” She pulled Dipper’s journal back out, and opened it to the incomplete map he’d made of the wreck. “Uh… I don’t think we’ve ever been below the cargo level…” She studied the map. “But from this, it looks like there’s probably a ramp on that side leading down… So I think it’s new territory. Not sure.”

He thought for a moment longer. “Could we check it out?”

“Why?”

“Like… I dunno… It’s cool?”

“Why is it cool?”

“I dunno! Like…! I dunno, if we’ve never been down there we should probably just check it out, right?”

She blinked. “You totally saw something.”

“I don’t know…” He repeated. “It’s dark…”

“That’s so…” She checked her backpack: an axe, a crowbar, a list of handy spells, some snacks… She was ready as she ever would be. “All right, fine. We’ll go. HEY MCGUCKET!”

“Eh?”

“Robbie saw something toward the SouthEast side, so we’re gonna go exploring, okay? Looks to be further underground.”

“Eh… I dunno… How long you be gone?”

“Hour and a half? Before you’re through with that. If we’re not, wake Stan and call Ford.”

“All right… Uh… Be careful an’ stuff… We don’t know what all’s down here.”

“We kinda do…” Wendy mumbled.

So they set out, picking their way across and between the miscellaneous machinery of the engine room. Eventually a large, tall wall loomed up before them, unclimbable and impassable save for a pair of blast doors standing at the bottom. They were open just about wide enough for a security drone.

Wendy squeezed through first, Robbie followed, and they found themselves at the top of a long passageway, gently curving deeper into the blackness ahead. Wendy checked the map and saw nothing; they really were in uncharted territory now. Hesitantly, she returned the journal to her pack as they started their descent.

“So…” Maybe 5 minutes later, Robbie broke the silence again. “You said everything down here is dead, right?”

“Huh? Oh yeah…” Wendy nodded. “Well, ‘cept for the drones, a’course.”

“The what now?”

“Don’t worry; they’re stupid. If you don’t feel fear they’ll just ignore ya. And if they don’t, you can just shoot ‘em… Don’t let ‘em grab you though.”

“Okay… Yeah, but… But I was talking about aliens… You’re sure nothing survived the crash? Like, those engineers all died after the fact, and whoever ‘Betty and Barney’ were, they lived long enough to do their thing… Like… It seems totally bogus that everything died…”

“Yeah… There were a few survivors.” Wendy admitted. “But they were picked off. Hunted down and killed one by one.”

“…All of them?”

“To a man.”

“…By what?”

“A shapeshifter.” Wendy recognized how scary that probably sounded, and explained. “Okay, so, this, uh… Let’s see, this ship was an explorer, like Christopher Columbus, right? And it was exploring planets all over the galaxy, collecting specimens and junk like that… Well, just like Christopher Columbus, their Captain was a grade-A sack of crap. Didn’t care whether the ‘test subjects’ were intelligent or dangerous or whatnot, he just kept doing his thing, trying to use them for his own purposes… Well, it kinda blew up in his face after the crash, because this one test subject, this shapeshifter, got free. And she was real mad because of all the things they’d done to her, and she was also really, really smart I guess. She hacked the security system, took control of the drones, and killed everyone left. Kinda… I guess I kinda get it, but still. A lot of innocent people died.”

Robbie considered this for a while, a strange look on his face. “Oh.” He finally said.

They kept walking.

When the tunnel forked, Robbie suggested they take the small passage to the left, but Wendy said they may as well follow the larger route to whatever end it held. Robbie reluctantly agreed.

Turns out, that end was water. Wendy supposed they were underground, and not too far from a lake, so some flooding made sense.

The surface was utterly dark and filthy; bits and scraps of decayed wreckage stood on top of the miry surface, and a smell like an ancient, rusty swamp wafted from it; a reek quite unlike anything they might have imagined before. It made sense; this water hadn’t moved in thousands of years, just stood there, stagnant, while the metal hull slowly rusted, and whatever growth could manage grew and died on the sparse nutrients. Was this earthly life, trapped down here in this isolated bog? Or was it some plant, fungus, or foul contamination from worlds away, carried within the ship’s own stores?

Who knows. Needless to say, they wouldn’t be swimming.

So they turned around and trekked back up the tunnel to the fork Robbie had first suggested. It seemed to Wendy like as good an option as any.

This tunnel was narrower, and branched off into many rooms and passages. Some of the doors were locked; others were rusted shut, others opened into flooded chambers, and the rest stocked equipment or furniture decayed beyond recognition.

Nothing of interest. They continued down the tunnel. Neither of them were really sure where they were going or what they were looking for, but at least they weren’t lost. The hallway was basically straight, and wider than the surrounding passages, so as long as they stayed close to it, they would always have their sense of direction.

But the tunnel ended, as all tunnels do. Toward the end, it seemed to flatten; the metal was buckled and bent, and seemed to have been collapsed upwards…

“What caused this?” Robbie frowned.

Wendy thought. “Oh.” She realized. “We’re down at the bottom of the ship. This is the part that was crushed when it hit the ground.”

“Ah.”

Wendy shrugged. “So… Where are we going, man? What are we even doing here? I mean, you thought you saw something, but we didn’t find anything. You happy?”

“Well…” Robbie looked around. All the ship seemed perfectly silent for a moment. “Have…” He stuttered, as if something very large were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t know how to let it out or if he should. “You ever had weird dreams, Wendy?” He blurted.

Wendy blinked. “Weird dreams. Whoever heard of such a thing.”

“W-w-well yeah, I know, like…” He stuttered. “I know all dreams are weird, but have you ever seen like, something totally bogus and crazy and it totally sticks with you because I don’t know?”

“Elaborate.”

“Like… I don’t know… Like somebody else’s dream? Have you ever dreamed somebody else’s dream? Like… Like if things turned out different, and your life didn’t look like it did, then you might have seen what you saw… But you can never quite remember, and you know it’s not a real memory, but it just sticks with you? Like… Somebody’s been in your head…?”

“Well that was just needlessly cryptic.” Wendy informed him. “I have literally no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It’s… It’s just…” Robbie ran his hands through his hair, and seemed much more focused and alert than he usually did. His headlamp beam swept the walls. “It’s just that I, like, totally remember this hallway!”

Wendy looked around. It didn’t look like any hallway she’d ever seen. Like any hallway that had ever existed in the human world. She looked back at him. “Did you see it in a movie or a video game or something?” She guessed.

“No, no, I mean… Not the colors or the feel, but the exact shape… That collapsed bit there just clicks somehow… Even this little seam in the floor right here… And I think this door leads to a side passage that goes deeper…!” He walked over to a random, unassuming hatch, and gave it a push. Surprisingly, it wasn’t rusted shut, and eased slowly open. “Does that make any sense?”

Wendy frowned at the door for several seconds. Then frowned at him for several seconds. “…Do you ‘remember’ what’s back there?” She asked.

He shook his head.

“…Well…” She shrugged. “I’ve seen flying eyeballs turn people to stone. I’ve seen kids magically cloning themselves. I’ve seen Soos with a pig’s brain. I’ve seen alien robot ghosts.” She pulled out McGucket’s ray gun, gave the hallway behind them a quick check, then nodded toward the open door. “After all that, this ain’t so weird. Lead the way, o prophet.”

This new way was small and cramped. A veritable maze of twisted metal, snaking below and between walls, through the cracks between separated panels and severed pipes, the one single path through this wreckage of the vessel’s lower reaches. There was room enough for a person to easily squeeze through, as Wendy and Robbie were steadily proving, but never enough space to stand up or really get a sense of direction.

But bizarrely, Robbie seemed to know where he was going.

-Warning: Final safety locks have been released on reactor 5. Intruders could begin startup procedures at any time.

-Input: Disregard. Do not interfere.

-Warning: Intruders 1 and 2 are now approaching location designation ‘Keep’.

-Input: Disregard. Continue long-range observation. This is all part of the plan.

-Drones 154, 155, 157, 158, 163, 164, 174, and 175 standing by.

After maybe 20 minutes of crawling and scrambling and dodging hard corners in the tight space, they emerged into a wider hallway, collapsed about 20 feet in either direction. Robbie pointed to a metal panel jammed in place against the wall, and said he thought that a way forward was hidden behind it.

But Wendy didn’t help him move it. Instead she stood back, and sighed. “You know Robbie.” She started reluctantly. “As a general rule, you never really admit your mistakes or make apologies. One of the reasons we broke up.”

“Uh?” He tried to jiggle the panel sideways, hoping to loosen it. “What?”

“Normally.” She continued. “You’re kinda like ‘ugh, whatever’ to everything. Not really excited or curious… You’re kinda adventurous, but never on your own, and only to impress people, especially Tambry. And you’re much more interested in girls than with aliens.”

“Well…” He found the jagged part that the panel was caught on, and realized he had to push it in to pull it out. “So…?”

“But today you apologized for everything.” She said. “You told me everything you should have said a year ago, really sucked it up and acted the gentleman. And then, you ventured down into an alien ship on your own volition, without Tambry, not to impress me, really for no reason at all… And then, you willingly followed your weird space dreams through cramped little tunnels, and… And now… Now a girl’s been pointing a gun at your back for fifteen minutes and you haven’t even noticed.”

“Huh—AGH!” Robbie finally turned around, and saw her standing in a ready stance, holding the blaster nice and steady at her hip, aimed right for the center of his torso. He jumped to his feet and put up his hands. “What the heck, Wendy?!? What are you-what are you doing?!?”

“Being a lot less stupid than you think I am.” She smiled humorlessly. “Taking the initiative before we get wherever you’re going.”

“Wai—HUH?” He frowned. “Wait, you think I’m the shapeshifter? What the heck?”

“Hey.” She told him. “Calm down. The Shifter’s been dead for thousands of years, why would I be paranoid about her now?”

“Well…” He frowned, as if struggling for an answer. “Well… Well Mabel told me that there’s one alive today! And it’s in a bunker that Ford made!”

“Oh right… You do know about that one somehow. Of course. You’re right. I should be paranoid of him.” Wendy nodded. “Now again, calm down. If you’re really Robbie, then you’ll be able to prove it, and you’ve nothing to fear. Right?”

“Like…” He took a deep breath, and seemed to calm down. “Like, yeah, I am Robbie… But… But you could be a shapeshifter too…! I think… I think you’re the one who’s acting suspicious, and!”

“Except I’m not the one with a gun pointed at my crucials.” She reminded him. “So let’s not change the subject, huh?”

There was a brutish sort of wisdom to that. “…Okay.” He nodded.

“What’s your girlfriend’s name?” Wendy asked.

“Tambry.”

“That was an easy one. Band name.”

“Robbie V. and The Tombstones.”

“Address?”

“42nd Pinewood Blvd.”

“…Dad’s job?”

“He runs the morgue and the graveyard with mom. And really creepy about it, too… Stupid…”

“What are your talents?”

“Guitar, singing… Spray painting, like, totally counts as a talent too, and…”

“And your secret talent?”

“I… Uh…” His eyes fell. “Drawing anime… Except its actually called manga but nobody understands…”

“Biggest regret?”

“Uh…” He appeared to be hesitating but was really racking his brain. “Hypnotizing you…”

Wendy thought for a moment. She needed a better test; some knowledge that only her and Robbie would know… Something that Robbie would never have told anyone in a million years…

“What color was my bra that night?” Wendy asked.

“Huh?”

“My bra. That night. What color?”

“I…” He frowned. “I…”

She waited.

“I…” He shook his head. “I…” His voice got small, fearful. “I think… White?”

She sighed, glad for some certainty at last. “Wrong answer.”

“…I mean… It might’ve been grey.”

“Strike two.”

��Pink? I… Look, that really wasn’t the part I was paying attention to, alright?”

She put up a hand and stopped him there. “Trick question.” She informed him. “Robbie never saw anything of the sort… And got a black eye for trying.”

The shapeshifter closed his mouth.

“All right.” Wendy’s voice was low, steady, and deathly serious. “Now here’s how it’s gonna work, dude: You’re gonna shapeshift reeeeeaaaal slowly into something nice and harmless. And then you’re gonna tell me exactly how and when you escaped, what you’ve been doing since, and who you’ve hurt along the way. You gimme any sort of trouble? This thing melts a hole. SAVVY?”

Very slowly, Robbie’s clothes, hair, and headlamp disappeared, melting back into his flesh. His skin paled, and stretched, and dissolved. The mass that was left seemed to expand, morph, and twist, and finally Wendy was looking at the alien’s true form. Its lumpy white hands clasped on top of its head, and it kneeled on the floor in a position of surrender. Two large, bulbous red eyes locked with Wendy’s.

And the weird toothed mouth tried a hesitant smile.

“Well.” She hadn’t heard the creature’s true voice in a long time, and it brought back some awful awkward memories. “All that talk.” His voice rolled. “All that talk about how aliens aren’t monsters… About how they’re just people… Respect them, you said. Treat them as equals, you said. I met some decent folks, you said… All that talk, and now you’d shoot me…”

Wendy shook her head. “It’s not about what or who you are man… It’s about what you’ve done. You’ve lied. You’ve stolen. You tried to kill us. You have killed for all I know, and I can’t ignore that. Now. How. Did you. Escape.”

“…Stasis tube malfunctioned for some reason about a week ago.” He said. “Then… A few days later, Robbie came down to freeze some samples he and Mable had been collecting from the robotic forest… He left the door open.”

“Robbie. You did what with him?”

The shapeshifter didn’t say anything.

Wendy bit her lip, and moved on. “Who else have you hurt?”

He shook his head. “No one.”

“…You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” He told her.

“Prove it.”

“Call Tambry. Tell her she spent the week with an alien. She’ll be surprised. She’ll be conflicted. She’ll want to talk to me. Because I was a great Robbie. Better than he ever was; you said it yourself: he was prideful, self-centered, lustful. A real jerk. He was taking his life on a wild wide to nowhere. But I was a good boy. People who thought they knew me knew I cared… Tambry loves Robbie more now. And if she had him back? It would be a rude awakening…”

Wendy almost did make the call. But she wasn’t all that confident in her ability to hold somebody at gunpoint while talking on the phone. It was like distracted driving; not a good idea. And besides, she wasn’t all that confident in her phone’s ability to get cell service way down here.

“So.” Wendy said. “Just one question then. Why haven’t you killed me today? Why lead me off toward wherever this is? Where are we going?”

“I don’t know.” He told her.

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know.”

She considered that for a moment. “Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“You’re so mature.” He scoffed.

“YOU’RE so mature.” She corrected him.

“I’m telling you the truth, woman! I remember this place, but I don’t know where or how and I just want to see what’s down at the end!”

“And I will shoot you! IN THE FACE!”

“Where I CAME FROM! Please!”

She swallowed her next threat, and glanced at the wall panel he’d been trying to move out of the way. “How can I trust you?” She asked. “What can you plainly tell me? And after all you’ve done, why shouldn’t I shoot you? In the face? Right here? Right now?”

“I…” He looked at the panel as well. “I…” He turned back to her. His little claws clicked as he thought for a moment. “Wendy Corduroy.” He finally blurted. “What if you were raised by gnomes?”

Wendy pondered this, and decided it was an interesting thought experiment. She took on a more comfortable stance. “Go on.”

“What if a horde of tiny little men found you as a toddler, and kept you chained up in a big hollow stump, deep in the forest? You never knew your parents. You never knew who or what you were. ‘Human’ was a word they never used, not even ‘female’, you didn’t even have a name, only ‘monster’. ‘Specimen’. ‘Creature’. ‘Biologic anomaly!’ You were a peculiar giant, with red hair, long arms and legs, and muscles the size of their torsos; capable of feats of strength they’d never even imagined.”

“Okaaaay…” Wendy frowned.

“They would come into your stump every once in a while.” The shifter continued. “Just to poke and prod you and admire how fast you were learning their language, learning to play chess, learning to use tools, learning to perform little tricks for them. Ever since you’d learned what ‘person’ meant, you knew that you were one, or at least longed to become one… But you hadn’t the faintest idea how, and they would not listen. To them, you were nothing. You were a pet sometimes, when they were feeling generous. You were an annoyance other times, and they would shun you…

“But mostly… Mostly they treated you like a prize animal, as if they were fattening you up to eat you. Every time you were a little bit bigger and fatter they would congratulate themselves and say ‘Wow! Look at her! Soooo marvelous!’ And they fed you beans, nothing but bucketfulls of beans, and you never knew what anything else tasted like… Until one day… You realized what your basic instincts were saying: that meat was food as well. And you began to wonder what a gnome would taste like if you shaved off the beard and cooked it… You reasoned that gnomes were weak. You could probably bend them, break them, tear them up, they were so small…

“With such ideas in your head, one day you tried to escape. You tore open the shackles on your feet. You got out of the stump, and tried to read their notes, find out who you are, find out what more there is beyond your tiny world. You wanted the answer, just a simple answer to a simple question: Who are you? So simple!

“But it didn’t work. They locked you in a cage, with a whole truckload of beans for company, and then they forgot all about you. For 30 long years they forgot about you, left you alone with the echoes for company. When you were old… Old enough to be an adult. Old enough that you should have finished a nice education. Old enough to excel at a wonderful job. Old enough that by rights you should have settled down with a nice little man and become a mother of two, old enough that you should be surrounded with family if all were right in the world… When you were OLD…! That was when you finally escaped…

“If you were raised by Gnomes, Wendy Corduroy, would you have done any differently than I?”

The shapeshifter rose to his feet, and took a step towards her.

No matter his story, that was a step too far. She pulled the trigger.

The laser bolt hit the Shifter right in the chest. But it wasn’t nearly as powerful as she’d hoped, and the creature didn’t stop. Before she could let off a second shot, it had snatched the weapon from her hands, and smashed it to pieces on the floor.

Now his gigantic, hideous head was mere inches from her face. Wendy stood her ground silently, her fingers twitching as she contemplated reaching for another weapon, wondering if a fight was necessary, wondering if a fight would even work…

She looked down, and watched his flesh shift and stretch over the blaster wound, shrinking and closing and scarring over and healing completely. In only a minute, it was like there was no wound at all.

She looked back up at his face.

The red, lidless eyes glared at her. The claws around the mouth clicked quietly. His mucus layer rippled and his breath reeked.

He turned away from her, grabbed the metal panel stuck against a wall, and ripped it free. He tossed it down the hall, and it clattered to a stop at the end with a great noise.

There was, indeed, a tunnel hidden behind it.

Without a sound, he collapsed into a slightly narrower form to fit better.

“Lead the way then dude…” Wendy mumbled, and started after him.

The shifter turned and glared down at her one more time. “And my name.” He snarled. “Is Sam.”

-Warning: Intruders have begun Reactor 5 startup. Power output: 5% and rising. Coolant levels sufficient.

-Warning: Intruders have access to all remaining ship systems and engines.

-Warning: Intruders 1 and 2 are presently entering location designation: ‘Keep’.

-Input: Assign bioforms 3 and 4 a threat level of 20. Combat preference: Immediate lethal force. You are clear to engage. Take no survivors.

-Threat reassessed. Antimatter pellets loaded and launchers charged. Drones 155, 157, 158, 163, 164, 174, 175 and 179 engaging.

-Drones 154, 180, 181, 182, 183, and 188, standing by.

-Input: Reserve forces, prepare to enter Keep.

Wendy began to make out a faint light at the end of the tunnel. Ahead of her, she saw the Shifter’s silhouette emerge from the passage, stand up straight, and freeze.

She came up behind him, and stood slowly.

The room was maybe the size of a 3-car garage. It was all collapsed on one side, and all other easy entrances were closed off. It wasn’t quite dark, thanks to a few glowing computer screens set up near the center. It wasn’t quite dry, thanks to a small trickle of clean, fresh water flowing down through a broken pipe.

And it wasn’t quite empty.

Wendy’s first thought was ‘storage room’, judging by the piles of hexagonal crates stacked and littered near the corners.

But there were also the bodies.

Dozens of skeletons stuck to the wall with what looked like giant-sized spider webbing, hanging there with their feet maybe 3 feet off the ground, and their arms stretched out horizontally, as if crucified. Most of them were the squid-type aliens that made up most of the ship’s crew. Some were a little different; probably some of the other passengers who’d bought passage as colonists… There were even a few humans. But there was one; one of them had a mouth made of saws, and a metal skeleton, and Wendy remembered having met his ghost. Barney. The man who’d died trying to kill the original shapeshifter.

Speaking of which.

In the center of the room, hunched over a collection of glowing computer screens, there stood a single living figure. Its fingers quietly tapped out some kind of command on the computer, and a few lights flashed. A half-dozen security drones hovered in through openings high on the walls, and turned their red triangular gaze down on the two new visitors.

The figure stood to its feet, and turned around.

And twirled a tape measure in its hand.

“Hello Sam.” It said.

“Mom…”

Gsv rmgifwvih szw urmrhsvw ivkzrih lm ivzxgli 5, zmw szw gsvivuliv lfgorevw gsvri fhvufomvhh. 8 wilmvh wrw vczxgob zh gsvb szw yvvm rmhgifxgvw, drgslfg z yirvuvhg nlnvmg’h svhrgzgrlm. Gsvb slevivw jfrvgob lfg lu gsv wzipmvhh, gsvri vbvh urcvw lm gsv vmgizmxv gl gsv xlmgilo illn, gsvri dvzklmh slg, gsvri nrmwh zoivzwb erhfzorarmt gsv yzggov.

Rmgifwvi 3, dsln uirvmwob uzxvh pmvd zh NxTfxpvg, dzh hgroo yfhb zg gsv xlnkfgvi, zmw dlfow mlg yv zyov gl ivzxg rm grnv. Z hrmtov zmgrnzggvi ilfmw xlfow kvmvgizgv srh glihl zmw vckolwv, proormt srn rmhgzmgob. Rmgifwvi 4 ivnzrmvw xzgzglmrx rm gsv xszri; vevm ru sv dviv gl dzpv fk mld, sv dlfow mlg yv zyov gl luuvi nfxs ivhrhgzmxv. Zmlgsvi zmgrnzggvi ilfmw dlfow gvinrmzgv srn.

Gdl hslgh. Gszg’h zoo gszg dzh mvvwvw. Vzxs wilmv olzwvw ulfi uli tllw nvzhfiv.

Yfg gsvm hlnvgsrmt szkkvmvw.

Z yiroorzmg uozhs lu yofv ortsg org fk gsv xlmgilo illn. NxTfxpvg qfnkvw yzxpdziwh uiln gsv xlmgiloh, hgzigovw zmw uirtsgvmvw. Wrw R qfhg wl gszg? Gsrh zorvm gvxs nfhg yv glfxsrvi gszm rg ollph… Yfg gsvm dsvm sv ollpvw sziw zg gsv ivzwlfgh, mlgsrmt hvvnvw gl szev xszmtvw… Zoo gsv hvggrmth zmw uvvwyzxp dviv qfhg dsviv sv’w ovug gsvn… Yfg gsvm sv mlgrxvw hlnvgsrmt ivzoob jfrgv lww: Gsv kozhnz yvzn dvzklm gszg szw yvvm ovzmvw yvhrwv srn dzh ml olmtvi gsviv. Sv tozmxvw zilfmw. Hgzm wrwm’g szev rg. Dsviv wrw rg tl? Dszg szkkvmvw? Rg dzh irtsg sv—

Gsv hlfmw lu vrtsg hrnfogzmvlfh vckolhrlmh vxslvw gsilfts gsv illn. Sv svziw wvyirh izggormt ztzrmhg gsv dzooh uiln lfghrwv, hzd z hxizk lu yfimvw divxpztv ylfmxv rm kzhg gsv wllih, zmw hsziwh lu kozgrmt zmw xsfmph lu ilylgrx rmmziwh xozggvirmt gl gsv tilfmw lfghrwv.

Hgzm dzh zdzpv rm zm rmhgzmg. “SR SVB ML KOVZHV HFHZM R XLFOWM’G…! *Hmiu* Svvvvb, xzm’g z uvooz tvg zmb hovvk zilfmw sviv?”

“R wfmml dszgzkkvmvw!” NxTfxpvg xirvw. “Dszhzkkvmrm’ dszgdzhhzg mlrhv dslhgsviv dsvivrmgzimzhsrm nb wvzgs izb ifm luu gl?”

Hgzm ulooldvw srn gl gsv wlli zmw gsvb ylgs ollpvw lfg. Hgzm wrwm’g ivnvnyvi rg yvrmt jfrgv hl dzin zmw hnlpb. NxTfxpvg wrwm’g ivnvnyvi gsviv yvrmt jfrgv hl nzmb yfimvw, hnzhsvw krovh lu ilylgrx divxpztv.

Sv zohl wrwm’g ivnvnyvi ovzermt srh wvzgs izb lfg sviv. Bvg gsviv rg dzh, hrggrmt lm gsv uolli zg srh uvvg, gszg evib hznv gllo sv’w nrhkozxvw hvxlmwh ztl.

Yfg rg dzh wruuvivmg mld. Rgh uilmg vmw dzh yozxpvmvw zmw yfimvw zmw hnvoovw lu hfoufi, zmw gsv ivhg dzh xlevivw rm nbhgvirlfh hxizgxsvh zmw wvmgh. Rgh szmwov szw yvvm yilpvm zmw ivkzrivw drgs z yrg lu wfxg gzkv. Rgh ylggln dzh nfwwb dsviv rg szw yvvm wilkkvw. NxTfxpvg krxpvw rg fk zmw ulfmw gszg rg dzh ortsgvi; rgh ufvo gzmph dviv mvziob vnkgb. Zmw z jfrxp xsvxp lu gsv vovxgirxzo xszitv ivevzovw gszg gsv yzggvirvh dviv zonlhg dzhgvw zh dvoo.

Gsv rtmrgrlm xsznyvi dzh hgroo dzin.

“Dvoo R’oo yv z klip-yvoorvw uvzgsvi-svzigvw wrmtovyviib… Dszg rm gsv mznv lu nv Kzkkrv’h tryyviuofmpvw yiznyovhmrkkrm’ Nrhhrhhrkkr xlnyrmv qfhg szkkvmvw?”

“Blf mvvw gl gzpv yvggvi xziv lu gszg gsrmt.” Hgzm glow srn.

“Wrw blf qfhg wl gszg qfhg mld?” NxTfxpvg zhpvw.

“Wrw dsl wl sfs? Wrw hlnvgsrmt szkkvm?”

“Dsz--? Yfg… Gsv gsrmt…? Ls nb, ollprg gsvhv klli ilyrgh…”

Hgzm nzwv z olmt hgirmt lu xlmufhvw tifmpovb mlrhvh. “Dvok, R’n rm levi nb svzw. Blf tlg z yilgsvi R xlfow xzoo? R nvzm… Z kslmv R xlfow yilgsvi? R nvzm… Zts, xzm’g gzop glwzb. Svb dzrgznrmfgv, dsviv ziv gsv prwh?”

#The Forest Of Daggers #wendip #wendy x dipper #gravity falls #scifi #wendy corduroy #dipper pines #shapeshifter #see you next summer #fanfiction #fanart #alien #robot #ghost #wendipweek

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hydrus · 4 years ago

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Version 438

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Hey, this causes errors if you are running from source and using PyQt5 (PySide2 is fine)! All the releases above are PySide2, so they are ok! I will fix this for next week, so if you are source+QtPy5, please hold off for now.

I had a great week overhauling the media viewer's image rendering. Zooming and navigation should be a lot smoother now!

image tiles

tl;dr: the media viewer now zooms and navigates with less lag and flicker

Zooming in a long way, particularly for large images, has been pretty hellish for as long as the program has existed. Historically, the client drew the whole image in memory at the zoom you desired so it could quickly show you the bit it needed on screen. Of course this meant zooming in to 400% on anything above 4k was suddenly taking a very long time to set up and eating a lot of memory to do it. As images have naturally grown over time, the problem has occurred more often and was starting to affect other systems.

My plan to fix this has been to break the image into tiles that then render on demand. The parts of the image off-screen are never drawn, saving CPU and memory and allowing arbitrary zoom. This is a significantly more complicated idea, and rewriting the whole rendering pipeline was always expected to be a multi-week 'big job'. I originally planned to just optimise and tweak the secondary systems and add in some sanity brakes this week, but I ran a couple of small tiling tests and realised if I went bonkers it would be possible to hack in a prototype. So I did!

In the media viewer, images now draw in tiles. It works a little like a browseable satellite map, where when you zoom in and pan about you see squares of data fading in (except in hydrus they appear instantly). You should now be able to zoom in as far as you like on an image pretty quick and you won't have any sudden memory needs.

Furthermore, I have written a cache for these image tiles. This saves CPU when revisiting different images or zooms, so when you flick back and forth between two normal things, it should now be instant! It still takes 20-200ms to view or zoom most images the first time, but going back to that view or zoom within a minute or so should be really smooth. The cache starts at a healthy 256MB this week. I think that will cover most users very well (in screen real estate, it works out to about 35 x 1080p worth of tiles), but you can alter it under the settings at options->speed and memory.

And I did some misc work improving the rendering pre-fetch logic when you browse in the media viewer. Huge files won't stomp all over the image renderer cache any more, which should make browsing through a series of giant images far less jank. If you are feeling advanced, you can now edit the prefetch timing and distance settings too, also under options->speed and memory.

I am really pleased with this week's work, but there are some drawbacks: I did it quick, so I cannot promise it is good. The most obvious bug already is that at around 200-500% zoom you start to see tiling artifacts. I know what causes this (interpolation algorithms not getting full pixel neighbour data from my simple tesselating tiles) and have a plan to fix it (adding a tile border pre-resize, and then cropping). There is also an issue when the 'virtual' image exceeds about 32,000x32,000, so I hacked a zoom block for that. There may be some weird files that render with other stitching artifacts or bad tile data. Note also that hydrus's 'Animation' renderer (the soundless fallback if you do not have mpv support) does NOT use tiling yet, so it still sucks at zooming! Please let me know how you get on!

If you have a steam-powered GPU or a machine with only 4GB of ram, you might like to wait for 439 so I can address any surprise bugs or performance issues.

PTR and account permissions

The PTR is changing how its accounts work. The shared public account is transforming to a 'read-only' account that can only download, so if you want to upload, you'll be going to manage services to auto-create your own privileged account. This is being done to improve janitor workflow for the various petitions, which were all being merged together because of the shared account. With the recent network updates, it will soon be easier for janitors to send simple messages back to these individual accounts, like 'that proposed sibling was not approved because...'.

Unfortunately, various permission and account-management code has not been tested much until now, so as the PTR guys have been trying this stuff out, I have been working to improve bad notifications and workflows. This week I rounded out account permissions testing with uploading. Hydrus no longer tries to upload content the current account does not have permission for, and if you end up in that situation, popup messages now tell you what is going on. It also catches if your account is currently 'unsynced', with instructions to fix.

Similarly, under 'manage siblings/parents', you can now see and edit all tag repositories (previously, they were hidden if you currently had no permission), but you get a label telling you if you don't have permission.

full list

media viewer:

I have hacked in tile-based image rendering for the media viewer. this has always been planned as a larger, longer-term job, but the problem of large images is only getting worse, so I decided to just slam out a prototype in a week. if you have a steam-powered GPU or 4GB ram, you might like to wait until next week to update so I can iron out any surprise bugs or performance problems

images are now cut into tiles that are rendered on demand, so whenever the image is zoomed larger than the media viewer window, only those tiles currently in view have CPU and memory spent on resizing and storage. as you pan around, new tiles are rendered as needed, and old discarded. this makes zooming in super fast and low memory, even for large images!

although I am happy with this, and overall we are talking a huge improvement on previous performance, it is ugly fast code. it may fail for some unusual files. it slices and blits bitmaps around your video memory much faster than before, so some odd GPUs may also have problems. I haven't seen any alignment artifacts (1-pixel thick missing columns or rows), but some images may produce them. more apparent are some pretty ugly tile artifacts that show up between 200% and 500% zoom (interpolation algorithms, which rely on neighbour pixels, are missing border data with my simple system). I will consider how best to implement more complicated but stitch-correct overlapping tiles in future

futhermore, a new 'image tile' cache is added. you can customise size and timeout under _options->speed and memory_ like for images and thumbnails. this is a dedicated cache for remembering image resize computation across images and zooms. once you have seen both situations once, flicking back and forth between two images or zoom levels is now generally always instant! this new cache starts at a healthy default of 256MB. let's see how that amount works out IRL--I think it will be plenty

I tuned the image renderer cache--it no longer caches huge images that eat more than 25% its total size--meaning these images only hang around as long as you are looking at them--and the prefetch call that pre-renders several files previous/next to the current image no longer occurs on images that would eat more than 10% the cache size. this should greatly reduce weird flicker and other lag when browsing through a series of mega-images (which before would stomp through the cache in quick succession, barging each other out of the way and wasting a bunch of CPU). in real world terms, this basically means that with an image cache of 200MB, you should have slower individual image performance but much better overall performance looking at images with more than about 5k resolution. the dreaded 14,000x12,000 png will still bonk you on the head to do the first render, but it won't try to uselessly prefetch or flush the whole cache any more

if you are currently looking at a static image, neighbour prefetch now only starts once the image is rendered, giving the task in front of you a bit more CPU time

new options for prefetch delay and previous/next distance are added to 'speed and memory'

note this does not yet apply to the old hydrus animation renderer. that still sucks at high zoom!

another future step here is to expand prefetch to tiles so the first view of the 'next' media is instant, but let's let all this breathe for a bit. if you get bugs, let me know!

due to a Qt issue, I am stopping zoom-in events that would make the 'virtual' size of the image greater than 32,000x32,000

account permission improvements:

to group sibling and parent petitions by uploader (and thus help janitor workflow), the PTR is moving to a system where the public account is download-only and accounts that can upload content are auto-generated in manage services. this code has not been tested much before, and it revealed some very bad reporting and handling of current permissions. I move this forward this week:

if your repository account is currently unsynced from a serious previous error, any attempt to upload pending data will result in a little popup and the upload being abandoned

manage tag siblings and parents will now show service tabs even if the account for those services does not seem currently able to upload tags or siblngs

if your repository account is currently unsynced from a serious previous error, this is now noted in red text in manage siblings and manage parents

if your repository account does not have sibling/parent upload permission, this is now noted in red text in manage siblings and manage parents. you will be able to pend and petition siblings and parents ok

if your repository account does not have mapping/sibling/parent upload permission of the right kind, your client will no longer attempt to upload these content types, and if there is pending count for one of these types, a popup will note this on an upload attempt

the rest:

added https://github.com/NO-ob/LoliSnatcher_Droid to the Client API help!

improved some error handling, reporting, and recovery when importing serialised pngs. specific error info is now written to the log as well

fixed a secondary error when dropping non-list, non-downloader pngs on Lain's easy downloader import window, and fixed a 'no interesting objects' reporting test when dropping multiple pngs

added a 'cache report mode' to help debug image and thumb caching issues

refactored the media viewer code to a new 'canvas' submodule

improved the error reporting when a thumbnail cannot be generated for a file being imported

fixed an error in zoom center calculation when a change zoom event was sent in the split-second during media viewer initialisation

I think I fixed an issue where pages could sometimes not automatically move on from 'loading initial files' statusbar text when initialising the session

the requirements.txt now specifies 'requests' 2.23.0 exactly, as newer versions seemed to be giving odd urllib3 attribute binding errors (seems maybe a session thread safety thing) when recovering from connection failures. this should update the macOS build as well as anyone running from source who wants to re-run the requirements.txt. I hacked in a catch for this error case anyway, just a manual retry like a normal connection error, we'll see how it goes (issue #665)

patched an unusual file import bug for a flash file with an inverted bounding box that resulted in negative reported resolution. flash now takes absolute values for width and height

next week

Back to multiple local file services. Mostly more backend cleanup and prepping File Import Options and the Client API for talking to multiple locations.

#release

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