#also they are fine they did not bring no crowbar no nothing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rosetheex-editor · 5 months

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(OOC WARNING: THE TRANSCRIPT CONTAINS DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD, VIOLENCE, DROWNING, AND HEAVY GORE. PLEASE READ BELOW THE CUT AT YOUR OWN RISK.]

[Video transcript start.]

[The transcript begins with someone holding the phone, they are seemingly in the backseat of a vehicle as it drives down a road. The song “Barbie girl” can be heard over the car radio, seemingly everyone is enjoying it.]

?: I didn't even know that song was still played on the radio.

[Voice identified: Ness Kylie Hoffson.]

?: Never gets old, though!

[Voice Identified: William Keane.]

Ne: Fair enough, though I really should ask one more time… Where the fuck are we driving to?

?: Abandoned fuckin’... aquarium or something? Right Cass?

[Voice identified: Becky.]

[The man mentioned, Cassius, is singing along to the song with a few others, he gives Becky a thumbs up, his other hand is out of the car. There are no hands on the steering wheel.]

W: DRIVE.

Ne: THERE IS STILL SOMEONE IN THIS CAR THAT WILL ACTUALLY DIE DIE FROM THAT!

[Cassius places one hand back on the steering wheel, but that doesn’t seem to improve the driving quality. In fact, it may have made it worse.]

Ne: Why do we keep letting him drive, no offense I know he's the boss and all… But if he crashes, Showfall can bring all of y'all back in the event of death… Not me.

Be: We let him drive because all of us have crashed before. He’s got a perfect fuckin’ record somehow.

C: I only crash on purpose! And I won’t be doing that with you in the car.

Ne: Thanks… I think.

W: That's a good thing, don't worry. Plus, I can't drive.

Ne: Yeah uh, me and tones are going to be tough… I definitely didn't only get 5 hours of sleep.

?: ‘s fine. I got… 10 minutes?

[Voice identified: Adelia.]

?: Adelia! That’s unhealthy!

[Voice identified: Ophelia.]

Ad: Girl, I saw you eating a giant bag full of marshmallows the other night, you can’t say shit.

O: That’s fair.

Ne: [Muttering.] I mean I ate a whole thing of ice cream the other night. Marshmallows are better in the grand scheme of things.

O: We all know the details, right?

W: Uh. Do we?

Ne: Uh… Did you guys tell me? I might have forgotten, honestly…

O: Oh, shit. Whoops. Alright. So! This group of conspiracy theorists have been… an issue before. But they’ve never gotten close to the truth like this before. There’s ten in total. We need to make sure nothing they’ve found out gets out. If even one word gets out to the public, we’d be in deep shit.

Ne: So uh, why do y'all need me?

?: Same reason we needed you last time. You’re a pretty valuable asset.

[Voice identified: Irene.]

Ne: I fucked shit up last time… Kinda a bad example don't you think?

O: I’ve fucked up jobs WAYYYY worse than that. You’re fine.

C: Like that one time in the 50s?

O: NO NO NO SHUT UP, DON’T BRING THAT UP. IT’S EMBARRASSING.

Ne: WAIT, HOLD ON… Is this like a… Murder job?

Be: Likely, yeah. Is that going to be a problem?

Ne: I've uh… Besides that one time never murdered anyone or watched someone be murdered in person.

C: Didn’t you watch a man get a crowbar jammed into his head?

Ne: Oh yeah… Forgot about that.

Ir: We need to invest in crowbars, those things look like they work super well!

Ne: Yeah um… Anyway, why exactly do you need me? How do I fit in?

Be: An honorary member is still kinda a member, also, Ophelia likes having you around.

O: That’s true!

Ne: Oh… Um, well I like hanging out with you guys so uh. Fair enough!

[Ness laughs, very obviously tired.]

C: Ness, have you ever been to an aquarium?

Ne: Maybe once when I was little, even then I don't know.

C: Nice, I remember bringing Naomi to one when she was like, 15. I think it might’ve even been this one. It got shut down for animal mistreatment a while back. And I definitely had nothing to do with them getting reported for it.

W: That's brilliant, dude!

C: Thanks. I… hm. I keep forgetting how out of the way that place is.

W: Are they, like, cool places to go to?

C: Depends, if you think abandoned buildings are cool, then yeah.

W: I did mean aquariums, but abandoned places are pretty cool!

C: Ah, shit. Yeah, aquariums are neat. If they treat the animals correctly.

Ne: I enjoy abandoned buildings… Probably helped that I lived in one for a few weeks when I first got here.

W: That definitely would I think.

Ne: Ugh, I really should have gotten more sleep…

[Ness yawns, shaking the camera.]

Ad: Aw, fuck. Now I need to yawn. When we get back, I’m taking a nap.

Ne: Speaking of sleep, I know Rose has been getting some… But Will, has Sparrow been sleeping or?

W: I..think. After the last few nights, not so much.

C: Hm. You should try setting a curfew or something.

Ne: Seeing as Peony is now in Rose's computer last I checked, that would probably fail.

C: They’re a child. They need the rest.

W: We've been trying, but if they don't listen it's kind of hard! We were teaching Peony how to play uno though!

O: Aww! I love uno! We can’t play it anymore, though.

C: Sorry.

Ne: Wha-

W: Ended in murder?

C: Look, it’s not my fault that Alexander decided to stack every +4 he had against me! I don’t even know why or how he had all of those. It was ridiculous.

Ne: Yeah uh… Fucking hell.

Ad: It was funny, though.

Ne: Yeah I bet… Still wild to hear though.

C: We’re close, by the way. Hold on to something, gotta make a few turns, and I’m going 125.

Ne: If I crash into someone again I'm not being held accountable.

O: Eden was the only one upset about that, and she’s not here, you should b–

[Ophelia is cut off by tires screeching, as the car takes a very sharp turn, jostling everyone around, the only thing heard is shouting for a few seconds. Along with laughter, likely from Cassius.]

Ne: JESUS FUCK-

W: SHIT-

Ad: CASS WHAT THE FUCK–

C: I warned you!

Ne: NOT ABOUT THE SHARP-

[Ness cuts herself off with a hiss of pain, her arms seen in frame grabbing at her head.]

C: Ooh, my bad.

W: Shit, you okay?

Ne: I hit my head on the door, owie.

Ir: Ah, that looks like it smarts. Yikes.

Ne: Yes, but fuck it we ball anyway.

[The car stops abruptly, Cassius turns in his seat.]

C: We’re here.

Ne: I'm not gonna need a disguise or anything am I?

W: if all goes well? Nah, you should be fine!

[Cassius opens the door and hops out, the rest of the PR team follows suit.]

[Ness stumbles out of the car, falling on the ground with the camera going dark before being put in one of her jacket pockets refocusing.]

W: Oh fuck! You ok?

Ne: I'll live. ‘Tis but a flesh wound.

[Ness removes a glove in front of the camera revealing she somehow scraped up her right hand through the glove.]

Ne: Literally.

W: Give me your hand for a sec?

Ne: My hand isn't Adam, I can't take it off when I want.

W: I did mean the figure of speech but that is true. May I see your hand then?

[Ness shows her scraped up hand to Will, holding it out.]

[William comes into frame, its face obscured. He pulls out antibacterial wipes from his pockets, and gently cleans the scrape before placing a plaster on it.]

W: There, done!

Ne: Thanks… So uh, what's the plan boss?

C: While you two were doing that, we sent Adelia and Becky in, they’re going to scope it out and report back.

Ne: Oh, fair enough. Am I going to have to kill anyone?

O: Only if you want to.

Ne: Cool. Um… So can I ask a question?

O: Sure! Shoot!

Ne: How uh, how does Showfall view me helping PR?

O: Um.

[Ophelia looks away.]

W: They. Don't know. I don't think.

Ne: Oh, probably a good thing right? I'd imagine I'd kinda be just a little screwed if they found out.

O: Er, yeah. A little.

Ne: Hm… Anyway, how have y'all been?

W: Shit, honestly.

O: I’ve been fine, and I can understand why you’d be not… doing well.

Ne: Hm… Well, I hope you get to feeling better, Will.

O: The rest of PR has been doing… okay? I think? Nicholas has been annoying the fuck out of everyone by being loud, but that’s about it.

Ir: Yeah, I’ve been good, Cass?

[No response.]

W:..Cass?

[Cassius says nothing, staring at his watch with a concerned expression.]

W: What's wrong?

C: Text from Becky. They have weapons. We might need to go in now.

W: fuck, okay.

Ne: Ight… Ok.

[Ness hops up, beginning to quietly hum.]

C: Be ready for anything, guys. I honestly have no idea what this group is capable of. Alexander didn’t know much, so we have nothing to work with.

Ne: That's… Not great.

[Cassius nods, and begins to make his way to the entrance.]

Ne: Will, you ready?

W: Ready as I can be, I guess! You can still back out if you want to, we won't take it personally?

Ne: No it's fine, I'll be fine.

W: ..if you're sure!

[William follows Cassius, smiling at Ness.]

[Ness follows both of them, seemingly more worried then the other two. As seen in her extremely slow footsteps.]

[As soon as everyone is at the door, Cassius opens it, and steps inside. The group is immediately greeted by 10 people in red clothing, only matching in color. Adelia and Becky are both in the center of the main area, which is filled with glass tanks, some of which are still filled with green murky water, such as the main tank, which appears to have water all the way to the top. With a small hatch as an entrance. One of the people appears to recognize Cassius, and turns bright red with pure rage.]

?: YOU!

C: Wh–

Ne: WHO?

W: which of us-

?: YOU MOTHERFUCKER! YOU HAVE A LOT OF NERVE SHOWING YOUR FACE AROUND HERE! FUCK YOU!

C: Oh my fucking god. I know this guy.

W: You're shitting me. That guys gonna go straight for you, mate.

C: Look, it’s not my fault that he thinks I’m the reason his daughter is… well. Hm.

Ne: SHOULD I RUN?

C: Nah, you should be good. If Eden got her fighting skills from her fathers side, then you’ll be fine.

Ne: Oh.

W: Oh! It's him!

C: Yeah… um. I need to make a quick phone call.

[Cassius types something on his watch, and starts talking into it.]

C: Yo, Eden. You said you hated your dad, right?

?: [Over the watch.] Uh, yeah? Why?

[Voice identified: Eden.]

C: Well, he’s here right now. Can I…?

E: Yeah, sure. Go ahead. I don’t give a shit.

[Cassius hangs up.]

C: We’ve been given the go ahead. Let’s get this over with.

Ne: Yep.

W: On it.

Ne: Let me just.

[Ness places a rubber band around her pocket with the camera.]

Ne: Ok! I'm ready.

[Cassius dashes forward, the metal spider-like limbs appearing as he moves, he manages to punch one of the people in red, sending them to the ground with a yelp of pain and surprise.]

[Ness follows suit, running forward and decking one of the people in the jaw, knocking them to the ground with a shout.]

[The Archivist ended up darting to the left, lunging at someone just out of the camera's view.]

Ne: OK WHAT’S THE PLAN!

O: NO IDEA! JUST FUCK SHIT UP, I GUESS?

Ne: OH I'M GOOD AT THAT!

O: GREAT! SAME HERE!

[Ness picks one of the people up on her shoulders, dropping them on her knee. A pop heard as Ness grabs her kneecap for a moment.]

?: HEY! ASSHOLE! LOOK UP HERE!

[Ness looks up the camera in the pocket following suit.]

?: NOT YOU, THE… OTHER BLONDE ONE!

C: What? What do you–

[The camera reveals the speaker on top of the main tank, holding Will by the arm tightly near the entrance hatch to the tank.]

?: Make one more fucking move, and I drop this fucker into the damn water.

W: let fucking go of me- Ignore this prick!

[Cassius mutters something inaudible, but likely in french, before breaking into a sprint, running to get to the top of the tank. He arrives within seconds, barely stopping before tackling the man into the green water of the tank. The two fight violently, almost fully seen through the glass. Blood seeps into the water as they battle, the struggle causing the grime at the bottom of the tank to be stirred up. A quiet metal clang can be heard at the top, but it goes unnoticed.]

W: CASS!

[The thrashing in the water finally subsides after 18 seconds, and Cassius attempts to resurface now that he has won, only to find that the entrance to the tank had been shut during the struggle. He swims back down to the glass, and attempts to break it with his shoulder, but to no avail.]

W: SOMEONE TRY TO BREAK THE GLASS! I'M TRYING TO GET THIS OPEN!

[Ness runs over, limping from the injured kneecap. Starting to punch the glass.]

[Cassius attempts to punch it as well, and when that doesn’t work, he tries to kick it. Still nothing. He bangs on the glass with a flat palm, eyes wide, staring at Ness. His strength rapidly fading.]

W: IT- IT'S JAMMED! I CANT- I CAN'T OPEN IT!

Ne: [Audibly crying.] GET A FUCKING HAMMER! SOMEONE FIND SOMETHING PLEASE!

[Ness switches to hitting the glass with her forearm, blood from her hands smearing on the glass.]

O: A LITTLE PREOCCUPIED, I’M SORRY!

[Cassius opens his mouth, and tries to shout the words ‘Help me, please.’ But all that comes out are bubbles. His hands go to his throat, clawing desperately at it. The burning from the lack of oxygen likely feeling like actual torture. After a few seconds of this, his movements slow, and finally stop. He now floats motionless in the tank.]

W: NO. NONONONONO! FUCK!

[Ness continues trying to break the glass, now using her already injured kneecap. Still nothing.]

Ne: GOD DAMNIT FUCKING HELP!

Be: Holy fucking shit, I– god, that– okay!

[Becky can be heard sprinting over, she stops right beside Ness.]

[Will can be heard sprinting down the metal steps, and jumping from a semi-safe distance to the floor next to them. From what the camera glimpses, it is distraught. One side of his face is covered in tears.]

Ne: PLEASE! NONONONONO.

[A pair of footsteps approach Ness from behind, someone off to the side shrieks, and a second pair joins the mix.]

Ne: Wha-

[Ness turns around to see one of the people in red running directly at her with a large knife in hand, the person almost reaches her, but is knocked out of the way by Ophelia. The previous attacker lunges at Ophelia, sending both of them to the ground; they attempt to stab Ophelia, but she easily catches their arm. Ophelia then turns to Ness, about to say something, but her voice dies as she sees the tank behind Ness. Her grip on the person's arm loosens, and they manage to sink the knife into xer throat. Xe stares at them for a few seconds as blood steadily flows from the stab wound. Zer eyes fill with tears from the pain, and she goes limp.]

Ne: I… O- Ophelia..?

[Ness begins seemingly laughing and sobbing, a pain response. She begins slowly moving over to Ophelia.]

Ne: O- Ophelia… It's n- Not funny…

?: HA! Two down! [Aside.] Guys, we can d–

[Ness cuts the figure off, jamming a knife into their chest right before ripping their throat out. Kicking the figure to the floor to pull the knife out.]

[The Archivist passes the camera, a blur of motion, patting Ness on the back gently before setting off again, lunging at another person in red. He bites down on their shoulder, sending the person down as it attacks them. The Archivist proceeds to simply mutilate anywhere it can reach. He goes for their eyes first, pressing it's claws fingers into the Individual's eyes as a sickening squelching sound is heard. The person barely has time to scream before A attacks them again, this time tearing at their face. Chunks of skin and viscera alike are seen to be flying around the victim person, before The Archivist begins to tear at their chest. The crunch of bone is picked up by the camera as its hand reaches into their chest, and pulls out a still-squirming heart. The figure goes limp, and for good measure it swiftly grabs their head and twists it.]

[Off to the side, Adelia can be seen with her hand on someone's jaw, feet planted on their shoulders, and one hand on their head. She yanks their jaw off of their skull, and blood flies upwards as she does. Becky is nearby stomping someone's ribs in, her legs getting coated in red as well.]

[Ness runs forward, grabbing a crowbar and spinning towards a figure in red. Jamming the crowbar sharp end first into the person's face, the rusted metal of the crowbar can be barely seen in the person's mouth and left eye socket. They fall limp as Ness and the camera begin looking around.]

[Ness stops on Irene for a little, watching as she sits on someone's torso, twirls a knife in the air, and makes several surgically precise cuts, opening the person up and jamming the knife into their insides. Ness looks away.]

Ne: [Between laughing and tears.] W- where… Where…

[A turns, a murderous glint slowly leaving its eye as it settles on Ness.]

A/W: ..hm?

Ne: Person. Where are the people?

[The Archivist jerks its head in the direction behind Ness, the glint returning as its sight settles on the anarchy behind her.]

[Ness continues turning until finally spotting someone, their hands in front of them pleading.]

?: YOU’RE BOTH FUCKING MONSTERS! BOTH OF YOU DESERVE TO BURN IN HE-

[Ness runs up and kicks the man in one of his legs, breaking it with an inhuman snap. Doing the same to the other one, before stabbing the man multiple times in the arms and chest. He screams as Ness jams a knife into his gut, dragging it across his stomach causing multiple sets of intestines to fall out along with blood. She drops the man down and continues stabbing him again and again and again.]

Ne: [Laughing.] DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DI- Di- die…

[Ness drops the knife, staring at the dead body in front of her before moving back, looking around to see other dead bodies, Ness stops at The Archivist.]

[The Archivist's head tilts at her, somewhat confused.]

Ne: [Crying.] What did I just do..?

A/W: Bad human. Helped. [It's voice sounds mechanically distorted.]

Ne: [Crying.] Your voice… Why is your voice like that?

[It makes a confused sound, and touches its throat hesitantly. Shaking his head, it scampers over to Ness.]

Ne: Will… I murdered three people.

A/W: Same number. As me.

Ne: What… Is with your voice?

A/W: The Archivist.

Ne: I thought… You were William?

A/W: Mhm.

Ne: I don't… Fucking care what Showfall calls you. I'm calling you Will.

A/W: Hm.

Ne: Cuz if you're the Archivist, does that make Rose “The Editor” or Edgar “The Mechanic”?

A/W: NO. NEVER. SAY. THAT.

Ne: THEN YOU AIN'T THE ARCHIVIST. FAIRS FAIR.

[The Archivist stares directly at Ness for a minute or so, before its body language completely changes. The glint in its eye has disappeared, its body relaxes, and he's looking down at his hands in mute horror.]

Ne: Hug?

[Will nods, shaking.]

[Ness hugs Will, removing the blood covered glove on her left hand to grab the back of it's head.]

Ne: I got you.

[William breaks down completely. He starts sobbing as he hugs Ness, slightly obscuring the camera.]

Ne: It's going to be ok… Um… Need some water?

W: C-c-cant. The o-others.

Ne: Right… Um… Fuck.

[Ness helps William up, before almost instantly falling back down to a knee.]

[Will moves back, to catch Ness quickly.]

Ne: MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A BITCH!

[Ness grabs at her kneecap, seemingly trying to fix it.]

W: D-don't. Damage it more.

Ir: [Distant.] Are you two okay?

Ne: I FUCKING DISLOCATED MY GODDAMN KNEECAP AGAIN!

Ir: [Still distant.] Oh, shit! Um. Can I carry you two over here? Just so we can all be grouped together?

Ne: UP TO WILL!

W: B-but, Cass and Ophelia..?

Ir: [Approaching.] We… can figure it out in a sec.

Ne: WAIT THE CROWBAR! THE- THE CROWBAR! I JAMMED IT INTO A GUYS FACE SOMEWHERE!

Be: Oh! Good point! Maybe that can break the glass!

[Irene finally gets to Ness and Will, quickly picking them both up under her arms and carrying them like large cats over to the rest of the group.]

Ne: Can someone please relocate my kneecap?

Ad: I can try! Becky, Irene, go get the crowbar. I’ll… do this.

Ne: Yeah uh, turns out using a wrestling finisher with your bad knee on an actual person and then kneeing glass is a bad idea.

Ad: Boy, I’ll say! Jesus! Good job on those three, by the way! Uh, sorry if that was like, mentally scarring. Okay, giving you a countdown… 3… 2…

[Adelia suddenly jolts her arms, relocating the kneecap on 2 instead of 1.]

Ne: FUCCCCCCCCCCCK!

Ad: Haha, sorry. Sometimes people like, stop me before I can do it so I’ve just… started doing that.

[William does go to hold one of Ness's hands, but looks at his own and pauses, before dropping them to it's sides.]

Ad: Aw, jeez, Will. You’re not doing that great, are you? We’re going back soon, dude. Don’t worry. Everything will be okay.

[He looks distantly at Adelia, nodding in a small, nearly missed action.]

Ne: I'm sure… Rose will help… Um… Can someone hold my phone for a moment? I need to throw up.

Ad: Of course, Ness.

[As Adelia takes the phone, a shout can be heard from the area near the tank.]

Ir: Not yet! You’ll flood the whole damn room! At least give everyone a chance to get to higher ground! The water is super gross, too!

Be: Ugh. Fine. [To the others.] HEY! You guys should like, move! We’re about to break the glass! It’s gonna be gross!

[Will makes a noise of indication, not being able to form words.]

Ne: Give me a minu-

[Ness cuts herself off, a retching noise heard out of frame.]

Ad: Oh. Ew. [A pause.] SORRY. SORRY. I’ll help you get to like. A bench or something.

Ne: Ow. Ok that would be appreciated.

Ad: I can’t carry y’all as well as Irene. So… sorry.

[Adelia tries her best to get Ness and Will to a bench, having to stop a couple times to take a break. But she makes it to a bench and helps them both up. She hands Ness the phone.]

Ad: Here’s your phone back, by the way. Um. Yeah. I’m going to go help with breaking the glass.

[Adelia jogs away, joining the other two PR members at the glass tank. She makes it over just as Becky swings, and it nearly whacks her in the head.]

W: I could've prevented that.

Ne: So could I…

Ir: HEY! I can feel the negative energy from over here! This wasn’t your fault, you’re both fine!

Ne: I COULD'VE DUCKED! OR HELPED WILL GET THAT DOOR OPEN!

W: I could've just, not got caught in the first place. Not cause Cass to come up there.

Ne: I mean… I got caught last time. I know how it feels… Kinda.

Ad: We’ve all had those moments, I remember the first time this shit happened to me… fuckin’ hell. I was devastated. I thought I fucked everything up. But! Cass came into my room the next day with a popsicle and just congratulated me on the work I did. He’s just going to be glad you’re okay.

Ne: I uh… Fuck… I can't say I know how you guys in the mall feel… Is that how Rose felt watching her big sister be taken? Having to watch?

[Will nods and mutters something.]

W: ‘is likely. .

Ad: [Cheerfully.] Yeah, probably!

[Irene punches Adelia in the arm.]

Ad: Hey! I– um. I mean… yeah. Probably. Sorry.

Ne: Is Ophelia going to hate me? I just had to move, move a muscle move a fucking inch. I watched the closest thing I have to a big sister die.

Ad: What is it with you guys and thinking that people who sacrifice themselves for you are going to hate you? Like, come on! They made that choice to help you because they care! Ophelia isn’t going to hate you when she’s back. I’ll bet she’s going to be a bit worried. But she won’t fuckin’ hate ya. Same with Cass.

Ne: It's called survivor's guilt! I think…

[Ness mutters something inaudible to the mic.]

Be: Aye! Can I break the glass now? I’ve been waiting for a while!

[Will gently nudges Ness, but replies]

W: I-I think so! Is Ophelia on higher ground?

Ir: Shit–

[Irene jogs over to where Ophelia’s body is. Lifting her off the ground and running to put zem down on a different bench. She holds up her hand and gives Becky a thumbs up.]

Be: Finally!

Ad: Should I mov–

[Adelia is cut off by the crowbar swinging towards the glass, shattering it, and sending a wave of murky green water out across the floor. Adelia is swept off her feet and carried halfway across the room. She sits up as the water settles, gagging.]

Ad: UGH. GROSS.

Ne: Um…

[Ness can be heard slowly beginning to cry once again.]

Be: I’ll grab Cass.

[Becky scans the area, their eyes settle on a shape that is halfway out of the tank. She walks up and grabs the shape, lifting it up and walking forward slightly, allowing it to be illuminated by a small bit of light in the building. The light reveals it to be Cassius, unmoving, soaking wet and covered in cuts that are slowly oozing blood.]

[Will squeaks, and hugs Ness, hiding his head in her shoulder.]

[Ness’ shaking is visible in the recording, she doesn't move. The only noise is her crying.]

Be: Fuck. That… Jesus. That looks like it really hurt…

[Becky stares at Cassius’ neck, which is also bleeding, likely from when he was clawing at his throat earlier.]

Ir: Shit… we need to get back to the mall. Are we all good to leave?

Ad: Yeah, I’m ready.

Be: Same. How about you two?

[Ness still does not respond, seemingly zoning out on Ophelia’s corpse.]

[Will just shakes his head, still quivering.]

Ad: I’ll grab Ophelia, Irene, are you good to carry those two out?

Ir: Mhm.

Ad: Great. Who’s driving?

Ne: I'll drive.

[Ness goes to stand up, but seemingly finally notices Will and sits back down.]

[Irene approaches the two, and picks them up as she did before, following the other two out the door, water sloshing around her ankles.]

Ne: Will… Please talk to Rose or Edgar about any emotional things. I'm not a good therapist but I'm still worried.

[Irene puts them down near the car, and makes eye contact with Will for a few seconds.]

Ir: Or any of us. We might not be very good at emotional… well. Anything. But we’re here anyway.

[William nods at what both of them say, but doesn't make a verbal response. He's numb to what's happening around him.]

Ne: Um… Fucking hell.

[Adelia pokes her head out of the car.]

Ad: Do you need a minute? We’re ready to go, but if you need a second to process stuff before we put you in charge of whether we make it to the mall in one piece or not, please feel free.

Ne: I… I stabbed a man 47 and a half times, I GUTTED THE SAME PERSON!

Be: If it makes you feel any better, I stomped someone out!

Ne: I just… I draw stuff like that… Never done it… What happened to me?

[Ness's hands pop up into frame, one covered with blood the other not as much. They both seem to be shaking though.]

Ir: Same thing that happened to us. But… a little less. You still feel bad about it. That’s good.

Ne: That's the scary thing… I don't feel bad… I'm scared… I… I… What if I do that to someone I care about?

Ir: Ness, lemme tell you something. It’s… hard. To do that. Not impossible, yeah. But it’s hard. If you care about someone, it’ll take a bit of willpower to hurt ‘em. It takes less to stop yourself, I’ve found.

Ne: I… Thanks…

W: Wouldn't. You wouldn't.

Ne: And neither would you… I see the look in your eye.

[Will just smiles, with a melancholy sense about it, and looks at the floor.]

Ne: It's true.

Ad: [Within the car.] We… should get going.

W: What if I left.

Be: Huh? Like. Just walked away? I dunno.

W: Just walked away. Would you guys come after me?

Be: Depends. What would you want us to do?

W: I don't know. I just don't want to go back there. But I have to.

Ne: I could take you to Marina's old house for a few days.

Ir: That could end… very badly. For reasons I’m sure both of you are aware of.

W: Yeah, I just... I don't want to do this. I want to go home.

Ir: Hm… I kinda get that. But… I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand.

Ne: Hey um… Rose is probably going to get you out come hell or high water, they made it pretty clear they ain't going to leave family behind.

[Will softly chuckles a bit.]

W: Of course.

Be: I think we all need a small break of sorts. Once we get back, I’m putting a movie on in the main room and making popcorn. If anyone wants to join.

Ne: I literally can't join.

W: I have to check in on the others. Don't know if they're okay. Could I bring some for them?

Be: Yeah, sure! Of course!

Ne: Tell Rose I'm sorry? Sorry for uh… That.

W: Thank you, Really. I will, Ness, promise.

Ir: Do you need any help getting into the car? Or are you both alright?

W: Ness? You, okay?

[Ness again mumbles something under her breath not heard by the camera.]

Ir: What was that?

Ne: Yeah I'm fine.

Ir: Alright, if you say so…

[Irene steps away, and gets into the passenger seat of the car, leaving Ness and Will alone.]

Ne: Ready Will?

W: ..I'm sorry this is how it went. But, yeah. Gonna have to be, huh?

Ne: Ok then.

W: Ness?

Ne: Yeah?

W: Thank you. For everything today. I'm… really sorry I didn't help more.

Ne: Hey dude, it's no problem… Don't worry about it.

W: You're.. really nice, by the way. Like, really. Thank you.

Ne: Hm… I uh… Thanks.

[Ness slowly opens the car doors for both herself and Will.]

[Will gets in quietly, not saying much else.]

Ad: Please… ignore the sloshing noises in the back. We… um… yeah.

Ne: Seatbelts everyone.

Be: Aye aye, captain!

W: Already ahead of you!

Ne: Ok, should I um play music?

Ad: Depends, are you gonna play good music?

Ne: I um… Depends on what you consider ‘good music.’

Ad: I don’t actually know what I consider good music. Go ahead.

Ne: Did Will already fall asleep?

Be: Yep. Out cold… jeez.

[Ness begins playing some music, identified as ‘Guardian battle’ from legend of zelda breath of the wild.]

Be: Oh, HELL yeah! Make this car ride a little more thrilling! Woo!

[Ness speeds out of the driveway/parking lot they are in.]

[End transcript.]

#showfall ask blog #encoreverse blog #ness

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indigo-villin · 7 months

Text

I saw the fnaf movie.

I absolutely LOVED ITTT

There will be NO HATE for it on my account.

I loved the pillow fort part, they're KIDS in the suits makes sense, and if you say it isn't realistic with them being murderers, just assume it was to lure Abby to them for later. Literally EVERYTHING they did was understandable and funny/scary when it needed to be.

Foxy's dumdum doom song was suuper spooky to hear and seeing him attacking was also terrifying. Seeing Bonnie in the closet with that one guy was GREAT and absolutely terrifying. (Carl) Cupcake was terrifying and entertaining as a tiny chihuahua villain (you cannot convince me he isn't Susie's dog). The bite scene with Freddy shook me and was cool (even if it was only in silhouette, but meh pg 13 rating and all). It was cool seeing golden freddy too, seeing the kid and everything. Seeing vids of people hugging chica and her reaction to getting her cupcake messed with me for the movie kinda, like she was so sweet, even in the movie, until she was bringing Abby into the scooper type thing, like she legit scared me by that point. XD

Mike was cool, his story was interesting enough, I felt bad for him. Abby was a interesting with her dynamic with Mike and how she generally was as a proper character, the actress was very good. Honestly all of the kid actors did well I'm happy and proud of them for taking their roles as seriously as they needed to. Mathew Lillard did amazing as "Steve" my sis didn't go into the movie knowing anything about it past it being a fnaf movie and the twist with him got her. XD I knew the twist, but whatever, it was still a fun time seeing him. Vanessa was...well honestly I'm mixed on her.

Vanessa looked like she just had trauma with the place, I thought she was gonna be a sister to one of the kids, hence her hanging around and watching out for the guards. It was definitely a twist having her be Will's daughter, but given the theories people made about game Vanessa I kinda see where it would come in to play... The ONLY criticism with the movie I have is that her actions made no sense, even with knowing she's the daughter. One minute she's telling Mike as much as she can to attempt to get him to research for himself, then she's getting all huffy about him doing anything. I'm not gonna be having any other posts about how much she seemed to think ass backwards so here are ALL of my complaints on Vanessa:

Her choice to get mad at him for "not locking the place up" makes less and less sense when you consider WHAT door the thugs came through. Mike only had access to the MAIN door, the thugs came in through a garage door or something with a CROWBAR/other weapon, which she would've seen, not like the animatronics could've dealt with their vehicle. Her choice to demand an explanation for why Mike had sleeping pills at his work? Not a good look, she's not his employer so he has no legal reason to tell her shit. "Oh I have to write you up on letting some people come in and wreck the place" the place has SECURITY CAMS, and he was OFF DUTY last I checked if the security isn't there it isn't THEIR fault. IF ANYTHING it would be hers, she's the cop that patrols the place daily. Also THROWING MIKE'S PILLS INTO THE LAKE??? I'm sorry but as a chronically ill person myself, NO, anyone even touches my pills without asking I'm gonna rip em a new one. I don't know what med he had or the price for those kinda meds, but the guy is OBVIOUSLY BROKE, and just cause he said he used them for his dream theory stuff doesn't mean he didn't still need them for normal sleep at home. No instead she threw them in the lake and he had to spend anywhere from $120 USD to like $800 USD (I'm guessing but I'm still probably off since we don't know if he had insurance or not) later on in the movie. Also her getting upset with him having Abby, I get it she got hurt, but until that point (and hey if she had SAID don't touch the guitar NOTHING WOULD'VE HAPPENED) the animatronics were fine with her, they were having fun and enjoying themselves. Also telling Mike "I'll shoot you if you bring here again" did she really think he brought there for no reason? She's a kid, the animatronics are OBVIOUSLY dangerous, and even before that he knew the place had been WRECKED meaning he had to make the conscious choice to bring her into an old ass building that was destroyed to some degree, and she thought he took that choice LIGHTLY????? LIKE NO his usual babysitter got killed THANKS (not that he knew that). He was out his ONLY babysitter who the kid didn't despise with her whole being.

Alright Vanessa rant over, still a good movie I absolutely loved it, just slight irritations with Vanessa. ALSO bb scares were funny and I got spooked with the first one, had an internal spook reaction to the second, and the third I knew was going to happen kinda (knew a scare was coming, didn't expect it to be bb). My partner pretty much jumped at all three bb scares. XD

And finally, the spring lock scene, I wasn't sure it would actually be in the movie. I thought it being pg 13 (yes technically pg 15 in non-american theaters) we'd get a silhouette like the bite scene, but I was pleasantly surprised with it being a longer drawn out death. I say drawn out, but I just mean it was allowed to happen as slowly as it needed to be, it didn't take roughly two seconds for him to die. It took as long as it should've given what he did and how the characters felt about it. The kids got their revenge and it was long and painful for Willy, just as it should've been.

Also at the very end of the credits we get the voice that says letters and it spelled "COME FIND ME" which was cool to hear. Apparently there was a shadow freddy easter egg thing, so it was probably him saying it, but I don't know for sure.

#fnaf movie #fnaf movie spoilers #my opinion #tw swearing #rant post

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Green Sky Highway

Phic Phight Phic for @deuynndoodles

The Fenton Ecto Cell Bettery (aka the Better Battery) was designed to draw power from not only an internal, pre-charged store of ectoplasm, but also from ambient, atmospheric ectoplasm. This meant that it would never run out of juice so long as it was in the Ghost Zone. The Specter Speeder was designed to travel in the Ghost Zone. Thus, the Betteries were the perfect power source for it. In theory.

In practice… Well, that just wasn’t working out, and Maddie didn’t know why. She gripped the underside of the dash and tried to push herself deeper beneath it to get a better view of the machinery.

“Maddie? You see anything?” asked Jack, who couldn’t fit under the dash. He’d been inspecting as much of the engine as he could from the inside, which wasn’t much. The Speeder wasn’t designed to be serviced while free-floating in the Ghost Zone.

Which, now that she thought of it, was a serious oversight.

“Everything looks fine,” said Maddie. “Except that it doesn’t have any power. Nothing’s lighting up, but all the connections look good. You?”

“I can’t get anything to work. Anything. It’s like… we’re in some kind of technological dead zone. But that doesn’t make sense.”

Maddie pulled herself out to see Jack vigorously scratching his head and shedding dandruff everywhere. “Ghosts do tend to disrupt technology.”

“But we fixed that. We designed all our weapons to work with that.”

“We know there are things we don’t know,” said Maddie, “and it’s always good to find new things! Though not pleasant to find them out like this…” They should really test their inventions more, honestly.

But it had been over a year of testing since they opened the portal. They had to jump in at some point, didn’t they? That was the whole point of the portal.

She sighed. “Well, we didn’t have a lot of forward momentum when the portal cut out.” She looked out the window. “We could see if we can get out and engage our jetpacks.”

“Uh, about that,” said Jack. He swung open the door to the jetpack cabinet. The empty jetpack cabinet. “I may have forgotten to put them back after refueling them.��

“Jack…”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Maddie massaged the bridge of her nose with her mostly-clean knuckles. This was a repeat of the handle inside the weapons vault. At least he wasn’t pushing the blame for it back onto Danny or Jazz. That would definitely have started a fight.

On the other hand, there really wasn’t any guarantee the jetpacks would even still be functional, so maybe it was for the best. For certain values of best.

She groaned.

There was a knocking sound. “Is that coming from the engine?” Maddie asked.

“No…” said Jack, slowly. “I think it came from the door…”

They both turned to stare. Something moved outside it. They shifted to get a better view out the window.

Phantom was out there, tapping on the door with a ten-foot pole.

“That little unnatural abomination,” cursed Jack under his breath. “He’s going to scratch the paint!”

Phantom apparently saw them and waved. “Hey!” he shouted, just loud enough to be heard through the walls of the Speeder. “Do you guys need a lift?”

Jack and Maddie turned to each other.

“How did he know we were here?”

“I don’t know,” said Jack. “Do you think he followed us?”

“It wouldn’t be difficult, but I’m surprised he didn’t show up on our detectors.”

“He does seem to have the ability to drop off of them.”

“True,” said Maddie. “So, how do we handle this? Fenton bat?”

“I don’t know, Mads. He might be, uh, sincere? That time with the ectofiltrator he did help me.”

“That’s one, single, datapoint. He’s a been a menace every other time we’ve encountered him.”

“I don’t know that we have much other choice,” said Jack, nodding towards the dead engines and the empty jetpack cabinet.

Maddie huffed out a sigh, then looked back at Phantom, who waved again.

“Fine. We still have to decide how to deal with him while we’re cooperating with him. Or if he decides to show his true colors.”

“Good idea.”

Danny knew this had been a terrible, terrible idea the moment his parents opened the door to the Speeder armed to the teeth. Why did they always feel the need to do that? None of the weapons, with the possible exceptions of the Fenton Bat and the Fenton Crowbar could even work here.

How his parents had, on their first jaunt into the Ghost Zone, managed to run smack into the Time Locked Lands was beyond him. They had to go to the one place in the Ghost Zone that the Speeder wouldn’t work and after coating the Speeder with some kind of anti-ghost spray that Danny absolutely refused to touch again. Ever. Especially in ghost form. Except with a ten-foot pole.

(If they’d left the spray off, he could have just pushed the Speeder back out of the Time Locked Lands. But, no, they had to make everything as difficult and painful as possible.)

“I am not carrying all that,” said Danny, flatly.

(Especially because it would all turn back on once they left the Time Lost Lands, and if there wasn’t a Specter Deflector under all that, he’d eat his own belt.)

“Then we aren’t going anywhere with you!” proclaimed Maddie.

“You’re stranded in the middle of the Ghost Zone. I don’t think you have a choice.”

“We do!”

“I could literally just fly over there and snatch you right now. Plus, again, stranded. Do you even have any food in there?”

“Of course we do!” said Maddie. “We aren’t incompetent.”

Jack looked guilty. Danny decided not to bring it up.

“Okay, but still, you’re going to run out eventually, and then you’ll still be floating in the Ghost Zone with no way to get out. You aren’t going to get another friendly ghost coming by.”

“I’ve never seen a friendly ghost to begin with!”

“Maddie…”

“I can just leave, you know,” said Danny, planting his hands on his hips and bluffing for all he was worth. He was not leaving his parents here to be used as hostages or who knew what else.

Hopefully, they wouldn’t call the bluff. They shouldn’t. No sane, reasonable person would. He was their only way out of this mess. On the other hand, his parents had never been completely sane, reasonable people.

Danny thought his odds were about fifty-fifty. Which meant he could hope.

Jack and Maddie had an intense, whispered conversation. This, thankfully, lead to them divesting themselves of most of their visible weaponry. Which meant that they still had more guns on them than most professional soldiers during a firefight.

Well, it was better than he’d expected. But it was still too many.

“Take the Specter Deflectors off,” he said. “What do you think will happen if I try to carry you and you have those on.”

There was muttering.

“Come on, come on,” said Danny, snapping his fingers. Which really shouldn’t work through his gloves but did anyway.

Sometimes ghost nonsense was good for making lasers fly from your hands, and sometimes it was good for tiny aesthetic breaks in physics. It was a grab bag, really.

“Alright,” said Danny. “I’m going to fly over and pick you up. Don’t hit me.”

Oh, jeez, he was not looking forward to carrying them all the way over to the portal. Sure, he could bench press a school bus, but there was a difference between holding up a school bus for a minute and carrying two people who hated his guts a mile through enemy territory while flying slowly enough not to give them windburn.

Sure, it’d probably only take a few minutes, even then, but those would be the longest few minutes in his entire life. Not counting his actual death.

Being carried by Phantom had to be the single worst experience in Jack’s entire life.

It wasn’t the speed or the lack of control – he loved carnival rides – or the height – Jack couldn’t tell you how many buildings he’d jumped off in pursuit of ghosts – or even the fact that Phantom was a sinister specter, and ectoplasmic emanation, a putrid piece of protoplasm – he’d been carried by ghosts before, usually ones who were a lot more upfront about wanting to kill him.

Actually, Jack didn’t know why he didn’t like it. He just didn’t.

Maybe it was just how uncomfortable it was? But Jack did way more uncomfortable things. Like interacting with his sister-in-law. Brr.

Maybe it was the lurking feeling behind every interaction he ever had with Phantom that there was something he just wasn’t seeing, some hidden truth that would make everything about Phantom, every contradiction, every confusion, make sense.

Nah, that couldn’t be it. Maddie would have figured it out by now. That’s why they made such a great team. He noticed the things she didn’t, and she noticed the things he didn’t.

“You’re going the wrong way,” snapped Maddie.

Just like that!

Wait. That was a really bad thing.

“I’m not going the wrong way,” snapped Phantom. “I’m avoiding Walker’s prison. I don’t know how he didn’t catch you on your way out, but I’m not eager to be thrown in jail for a thousand years.”

“Ghosts have jail?” asked Jack surprised.

“Depends where you are,” said Phantom. “Walker isn’t really a sheriff, though. There’s no government behind him and he just makes up rules randomly so he can lock up anybody he doesn’t like.”

“Like you,” observed Jack.

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re even wanted by whatever passes for the law here?”

“First, rude. Secondly, there are realms in here that are just as organized and civilized as any country on Earth. Just because you opened your portal into the equivalent of post-apocalyptic Detroit doesn’t mean it’s all like this.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” said Maddie.

“I could arrange that, you know,” said Phantom, stilling.

Jack laughed nervously. “Maybe another time?” The ghost would do what it would do, but they didn’t need to encourage him to bring them even deeper into the Ghost Zone. They were currently banking on Phantom’s obsession with heroics to get them home, but if they changed the equation… Yeah, Jack didn’t want to deal with the consequences of that.

Ghosts were like computers that ran only one program. One homicidal, destructive program.

It was like that thought experiment about an AI whose job was to maximize the number of paperclips. It’d just keep on making more and more paperclips until nothing was left. Which was why they had to be stopped.

Easier said than done, as Jack and Maddie had learned.

“You don’t have to be so freaked out,” muttered Phantom. “It isn’t like I’m going to kidnap you or anything.” He pretended to sigh.

What was the point of that? He had to know that Jack and Maddie wouldn’t fall for his tricks. Actually, come to think of it, he was miming breathing, too, and had been the whole time.

Maybe that’s why Jack was so uncomfortable. The constant undercurrent of deception.

Hmmm… something to think on.

“What’s that?” asked Maddie, pointing.

“Uh,” said Phantom, who did a double take.

Ooh, that wasn’t reassuring.

Danny clenched his teeth, his parents’ reactions to him weren’t reassuring, and even less reassuring was the way Pariah’s Keep had moved from its usual creepy location and to this new creepy location. Not that there were any non-creepy locations in the Ghost Zone. It was part of the place’s charm.

No, really. Some part of Danny craved the creepiness. He was half-ghost, after all.

(Even if his idea of creepiness was, according to his friends, sort of lame.)

But back to the main point. The keep really, really shouldn’t be here. And it was creeping him out.

It should be okay to just… fly past it, though, right? Just being in its airspace in the past hadn’t done anything bad. So, flying by with his parents in tow shouldn’t do anything either. Right?

Danny put on more speed, just in case. This coincided with a bunch of large ghost ravens (or were they crows?) dive bombing them and forcing him to land to defend himself and parents. The only land around being the rim of the island that supported the keep.

He knew something like this would happen. Maybe not exactly this, but he just knew he’d be attacked and everything would devolve into nonsense, and—

Huh. The birds weren’t attacking him, just his parents. Oh, these were racist (mortalist?) birds. Gross. Trust Pariah Dark to have bigoted birds. He called up a shield to protect his parents. Whereupon they shot him in the back, shouting about how he betrayed them to the birds, because why not?

Why was his life like this?

He pushed himself up off the ground. Starbursts twinkled behind his eyes. Neither his parents nor the crows were in sight. The crows could have gone anywhere. His parents on the other hand…

There was only one place they could have gone.

Well. At least none of the nonsentient traps would work on them, seeing as they were humans. What were the odds that they’d run into one of the sentient defenders?

Well… considering the ravens?

Yeah. That’d be about one hundred percent.

“Maddie, I don’t know about this…” said Jack, examining the tall, vaulted ceiling.

“We had to get away from Phantom. This was the only way to go.”

“But he came here for a reason, Mads,” whispered Jack, tip-toing.

“Yeah, this is definitely a trap. But what can we do?”

“Jack? Maddie? This is not a place you want to wander around in! Oh, holy—” There was a loud thump.

Maddie grabbed Jack’s hand and pulled him forward. “We have to get away from him.”

“Come on! This is a floating island! I’m your only way off! Why are you like this?”

“He has a point,” said Jack.

Maddie stopped. “I guess he does.”

“This is literally the worst place you could have picked to run away!” A sound like a very large door opening and closing reached their ears. “This is Pariah Dark’s place! Where did you even go?”

“Mads?”

“Yeah?”

“Who’s Pariah Dark?”

“I think that was the name of the ghost that sucked the town into the Ghost Zone a few months ago.”

“Please, guys! I’m trying to help you here! This place is ultra-dangerous! You could accidentally – yikes! – wake up Pariah Dark.”

“Maybe we should…”

“Yeah,” said Maddie, “maybe we should.”

“Phantom!” called Jack. “Phantom! We’re over—” The floor opened up underneath them and they fell into the dark.

Maddie woke to a dark room, tied to a chair. She noticed the faintly glowing ghost in front of her and jolted backwards.

The ghost wore a set of painted and engraved plate armor, a pair of lavender-white eyes glowing from behind the slats of its visor. A knight, of sorts, Maddie supposed.

“You…” droned the ghost in a painfully stereotypical ghostly moan. “Enemies of the king… why have you come here?”

“Huh?”

That was Jack’s voice. He was tied behind her, apparently.

“We don’t have anything to say to you,” snapped Maddie.

“Uh,” said Jack. Something twisted behind Maddie. “Are you a friend of Phantom?”

“A friend? A friend?”

“I’m going to take that as a no,” muttered Maddie.

The door of the room flew off its hinges. “Fright Knight!” shouted Phantom, pointing a glowing finger. “Wait, you aren’t Fright Knight. Who are you, and what do you want with my- With, uh, the Fenton ghost hunters? Who I don’t know very well at all. Promise.”

“What,” said the ghost.

“What,” said Maddie.

“What,” said Jack.

“Okay, forget everything I just said.” He gestured at the ghost. “Who are you?”

“My name is Paladin, my liege.”

“Okay, okay, cool, cool. I- Wait, what? What did you call me?”

“My liege?”

Phantom looked like he was having an existential crisis.

“Maddie was right!” exclaimed Jack, who couldn’t see Phantom’s face. “You did lead us into a trap!”

“What? No? I’ve never even met this guy before! You are a guy, right?”

“Yes, my liege.”

“Right. I’m going to put that on the backburner and freak out about it later. How are you- Why are you—” Phantom shook his head. “Why are you here in Pariah’s Keep?”

“It’s your keep.”

“Since when?”

“Say what now?” asked Jack and Maddie at once.

“Look, this is news to me, too. But, back to the question. You. The keep. Why? I mean, you weren’t here before.”

“That is because Pariah sealed me, my liege. When you defeated him, I was released and immediately swore fealty to the true king. You.”

“I am so freaking out right now, but we’ll revisit that. Later. Right now, I have to get these guys home.”

“But they have hostile intentions towards your person, my liege!”

“Everyone has hostile intentions towards me. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t attacked me yet.”

“Ah. My liege, perhaps you should seek the services of a priest, if all your experiences with new people are such.”

“Is that the medieval equivalent of a therapist?”

“I fear I do not know what that is. Why do you ask?”

“Because the last time I talked to one of those, they purposefully picked at every one of my insecurities and then tried to murder my, uh. Someone close to me.”

“An evil counselor, then,” said the knight, gravely.

“I want to agree with you, but somehow I feel like you’re talking about something completely different than the image in my head.”

“That may be true, my liege. Doubtless, you are very wise.”

Maddie was… lost.

Very lost.

Even so, her prerogative was escaping. She started twisting, trying to get to the knots around her wrists.

“Did you, uh, pilot the castle out here?”

“Yes. I sensed that mortal enemies of the king, that’s you—”

“I will debate that as soon as my brain stops screaming at me.”

“—had entered the Realm.”

“Right. Yeah. Thank you. But I can handle these guys. And I need to get them home. Please. I made a deal with them.”

“With these?”

“Hey!” said Jack, offended.

“I mean, I use the term deal pretty loosely.”

“Hey!”

“But yes. Please. Just. Dang. How did you tie them up that quickly?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“Do you mind if I take the chairs?”

“They are your chairs, my liege.”

“I’m still not used to that.”

“Are you quite certain you want to take them? And just… Let them loose? The dungeon here is very functional. We even have an oubliette.”

“Raincheck. But thank you. Really, I mean it.” Phantom flew behind Maddie, and she protested as the chair she was in was yanked upward. “Uh… I might have gotten turned around a time or two, so if you could…”

“Of course! The keep does seem to have sustained some damage, so we will have to take some detours.”

“Phantom! Phantom! Put us down and untie us.”

“Nah, I think I like this better. Your kids can untie you once I bring you back!”

“You’re going to drag us all the way through the Ghost Zone?”

“That’s the plan.”

The rest of the flight was surprisingly pleasant. No one attacked, and his parents were much easier to carry in the chairs. Sure, they struggled, but the struggling was much more manageable than the wriggling from before.

They were mad at him. But they were always mad at him. So.

No loss, really.

With the utmost carefulness, Danny set them down in the middle of the lab, still tied up, and then began zapping then tossing their most troublesome inventions into the gaping maw of the portal while they screamed at him.

Normally, he wouldn’t do this, especially after successfully rescuing his parents and hopefully raising their opinion of him, but some of those inventions were painful. Like. A lot painful. And dangerous. Also, he was doing his level best to avoid thinking about the whole ‘king’ thing.

Which he couldn’t do forever.

Especially since Jazz walked down the stairs, probably drawn by the screaming, to see Danny shoving half of the Ghost Catcher through the portal sans-strings.

“Uh,” said Danny.

“Get that ghost, Jazzy-pants!”

Danny vanished and fled upstairs.

Jazz had seen many strange things in her life, but that scene was one of the weirder ones.

It took some time to untie her parents, longer to extract herself from the ensuing rant and their attempt to salvage their equipment from Danny’s all-too-explicable rampage. Honestly, she was surprised Danny hadn’t snapped earlier.

She opened the door to his room. It was empty. She squinted. He was not just leaving her hanging like that, with no context to what happened other than their parents’ ranting. She opened her door.

Danny was lying on his side on the middle of her rag rug, hugging Bearbert Einstein.

“A ghost told me I was king and that I needed a priest.”

Oh boy.

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2021

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bluegarners · 3 years

Text

hiya @viceturtle! I finally got it done! Here is your Bad Things Happen Bingo request with Dick and Jason; you can also read it on ao3

What Have I Done?

It’s a lot. He’s not going to lie.

Dick was dead for eight months. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. It was a fact that they were all forced to deal with, all forced to live with. Dick was dead and there was nothing any of them could do about it. And for a time, Jason had held onto the small belief, he’s not going to call it hope, that Dick had somehow managed to pull through. That even despite the beatings, the torture, everything before and after it, Dick had managed to pull through and come out of it all alive.

But he hadn’t. That was the thing, at its core. Dick died.

Jason knows what it is to be dead. To be beaten and left to die. To struggle and still search for a way out of the shit hole you’re suddenly in and cling to that light, that stupid, stupid promise in the back of your head that screams, Help is coming, just hold on a little longer, that forces you to keep struggling, keep surviving, keep hoping for a way out despite the circumstances. Jason knows and it absolutely sucked.

He died and then clawed his way out of his own coffin. One of his fingers is permanently misshapen, wood chips and metal piercing through his stiff and cold skin. He’s got scars all over his body to prove that he died, to prove that he was beaten with a crowbar, messed around with like he was just some dummy, some thing that could take a beating and then some. Up and down and across and lined; the scars are all over him and he died.

And Dick died too.

In those eight months, Jason felt more connected to his deceased older brother than he ever had before. A deep and twisted connection over a shared death, a similar fate so convoluted it makes Jason sick to think about sometimes. His murderer is still out there. Jason has to live with that fact and even though it’s not fine and things would be so much easier without that psychopath, Jason gets it. Sometimes. Gets the moral code, the compass, that shrouds Batman and his little followers.

And he’s trying. He is. He made an effort to try and do the right thing when Dick died because suddenly, the role of older brother had fallen onto him and even though he doesn’t have a good relationship with Tim or the recently resurrected Damian, or anyone for that matter, there was still that recognition that it was all on him now. He was the eldest. He was the one to look towards. Not look up to, no, he will never claim the title of a role model, but now he’s the oldest, the most experienced, the next in line when one just can’t go to Bruce about shit going on.

The point being is that he did try, put in more effort than he probably should have, to stepping up to the plate and taking a swing at being better. At being the eldest of the entire brood and not fucking it up horribly. He switches to rubber bullets and smoke pellets. He keeps his excessive violence reserved for only the worst scum and even then still attempts to steer clear from Batman’s territories. He takes care of the Narrows, rekindles a sort of friendship with Tim, doesn’t fight the literal child that lurks in the Cave, and avoids confrontations with Bruce altogether.

It works and it’s good. He steps up, frankly owns being the eldest, and he’s fine. He’s fine with it. He’s still got his reputation intact, Red Robin isn’t terrified of his presence any longer, and Robin doesn’t pull a sword every time they spot one another. So what if he slips up occasionally and gets carried away? They’re just rubber bullets, weapons all the same, and they’re no different from getting hit with Batman’s fist (which Jason knows, from experience, hurts like hell) or getting swung at with a large knife.

He had a thing going on, is what Jason’s trying to get at, and then Dick showed up.

Dick. Richard Grayson. Who died eight months ago after he was tortured by the Syndicate and had his heart stopped by Lex Luthor. Who they had a funeral for. Who they mourned for. Who Jason had attempted to fill the gaping hole he had left behind.

Who Jason thought had died.

Betrayal is a word Jason feels like he could apply to a majority of his life. Betrayal from his parents, his poor, poor mother who just couldn’t muster up enough fucks. Bruce, Batman, for getting him into the vigilante life, for letting him wear that damn costume and get himself blown up for all his efforts. Talia, for restoring his mind after he was supposed to be dead. Bruce, Batman, again, for letting his murderer walk around like it was another Sunday, any other day, just a nice, normal day for a stroll like he didn’t just kill Bruce’s own son-

Yeah, Jason feels like he has liberal use of betrayal. It’s just an old song he hums sometimes and lets others join in occasionally.

But there was an unspoken code, a silent right-of-passage, when it came to being Robin. A mutual understanding of sorts. You don’t back-stab another Robin. Ever. You don’t lie, cheat out, betray a fellow Robin. There were too many shared experiences when it came to being Batman’s, Bruce’s, Robin and that ultimately revolved all back to trust and knowing that things were still the same despite all these years. Being Robin was both the best thing to ever happen to someone and also the ultimate death sentence. You don’t just get to be Robin either. You’ve got to earn it, to prove yourself, to show that you can take it all on, to keep up with Batman and the ever changing and violent Gotham.

So, when Dick shows up with an apology on his lips and the expectation of being welcomed home after all this time, Jason punches him square in the jaw. It’s surreal, a part of him thinking his fist will just phase right through the man’s face, but his knuckles connect and if the sound of his fist against Dick’s jaw isn’t the most satisfying and cruel thing he’s ever heard, Jason doesn’t know what is.

It’s agony, nearly, to see the red blossom on his older brother’s cheek because, holy hell, that means it’s all real. That Dick is really alive and not still buried in that weed covered yard with decaying roses scattered on top of it. Dick is alive and Jason is furious because he’s supposed to be dead and Jason already tried so hard to fill the other man’s impossibly huge shoes and he was doing a damn good job at it. He likes to think so, at least.

But who cares, right? Who gives a shit when Dick is back now and it was all for nothing? Everyone can just go back to their normal routines now that the star player is back and they don’t need a fill-in like Jason to stick around. All that effort, all that time, all that trying all summing up into one big, Surprise, I’m not dead, from the man of the hour himself.

Jason avoids Dick after that. The man said he wasn’t staying long, just “checking in” with everyone like he was just on some business call for a few months and not dead.

And that’s the root of it, Jason thinks. That’s what really gnaws at him because Dick is treating the whole situation exactly like he was on some extended vacation and just forgot to tell anyone where he was going. Not like his absence literally turned their entire world upside down. Not like the loss, the emptiness, that literally echoed everywhere Jason went was consuming and terrifying. In those eight months, Jason had to toe the line between being the eldest and maintaining his identity as Red Hood, and that’s where Jason truly felt close to Dick. Felt like he finally got what Dick and Bruce’s arguments were about so many years ago, this constant war of wanting to be better, wanting to have freedom, wanting to stay yourself when there was a constant war of others trying to get you to fill a role that you don’t want.

Finally, Jason felt like he had some other important connection to his elusive older brother that had nothing to do with the man that housed them, only for it all to be thrown across the room and into the trash.

To keep it simple, bare-bones, really dumbed down, Dick lied. About being dead, of all things. Jason can get behind needing to lay low after all that, being stripped of your identity on live television wasn’t exactly great for their kind of lifestyle, but to just leave? To go out on some mission and leave the rest of them out to dry like that? No warning, no hints, no notes, nothing? God, at least Jason made an appearance. Granted, not the best sort of re-introduction, but at least he wasn’t trying to hide.

To say the least, Jason is hurting. The anger faded along with any sort of need to prove to Dick that he had stepped up when he left. Now, he just feels… shitty. In a way, this is what he had been half-way expecting. No one stays dead in this business. There is always someone with a back-up or ex-machina to save the day and bring back a fallen hero, villain, whatever. But there had just been something so final, so human in Dick’s death. In that moment, seeing the mask ripped off, seeing his brother’s face on T.V out of context, away from the normal flashiness that was being related to a billionaire, it had scared Jason because that was his brother, Dick Grayson, world’s most annoying man in the universe, on T.V; beaten, bloodied, bruised, and humiliated for everyone to see.

He’s always been jealous of how clean and clear Dick’s eyes looked. Just a simple and rare shade of blue, obnoxiously bright and searching. Jason’s mother used to say he had his father’s eyes, a muddy mix of blue and green. He’s never liked his eyes, but there was always something so attention grabbing with Dick’s. Seeing them on T.V, wide and blood-shot and bruised to hell; the blue was out of place and humanizing in a way that Jason just couldn't describe because it was simply Dick Grayson there. Not Nightwing. Not a hero. It was just Dick Grayson, world’s worst older brother ever, looking lost, defiant, and defeated all at once.

And that hurt.

The man is like some nasty disease that won’t leave him alone though. Their first meeting was two days ago and Jason is trying his best to ignore the knife in his chest, not literally, when Dick shows up. Just outside the Narrows on the roof of a bodega, Dick appears from where ever the fuck he’s been and walks over to Jason. It’s a cue, Jason knows, when thunder rumbles in the distance and if he were a bit more into literature, feeling a bit more melancholy for his freshman year of high school, Jason would say that a storm is coming for the both of them, not just Gotham.

Dick walks with his hands in his pockets, stuffed inside an old brown jacket that looks well-used and well-loved. Jason’s never seen the jacket before. Must’ve gotten it on his extended vacation. A part of Jason knows that Bruce was in on it too, that Bruce probably deserves just as much anger he’s dishing out towards Dick, maybe even more, but Jason’s tired of trying to play nice and get along. Dick is the one in front of him now, right here on a Wednesday night with the glowing, neon advertisement for Coke singing behind their heads and a run down, twenty year old convenience shop beneath their feet.

Dick is here and now when he should be dead.

Just like Jason should be.

“What do you want?” he asks, the metallic tin of his voice modulator diminishing some of the threat. It’s a known fact that Red Hood guards his territory with a viciousness rivaling a rabid dog. Outsiders aren’t welcome. Never welcome.

In contrast, Dick is mask-less. Civilian. Same clear blue eyes from eight months ago that were sealed shut the last time Jason saw them. A dark bruise stains Dick’s right cheekbone, the shape of knuckles and betrayal. It’s a good contrast.

“I came to say goodbye,” the other man answers, stopping just short of six feet in front of Jason, “and that I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner. I really am,” he insists when Jason remains silent. “Things just… happened too fast. It killed me to be away from you all for so long. I wanted to tell you, I did-”

“Really?” Jason interrupts lowly. “It killed you, huh?”

Dick sighs, a hand coming up to brush through his hair. “That’s not what I meant. You know it’s not.”

“I don’t know, Dicky. Times are changing, you know. One minute, you’re the star pupil, and the next I’m your backup. And now,” Jason shrugs, letting his hand come up to rest on the holster he keeps on his hip, “I’m not so sure about that.”

Dick is eyeing Jason like he’s looking at something he doesn’t like. Something that’s leaving a bad taste in his mouth. But that’s just something he’s going to have to deal with, isn’t it? Suck it up buttercup, and all that.

A laugh erupts from Jason as he truly takes it all in. “You know,” he chuckles, nothing humorous causing his mirth, “you really had me there for awhile. I bought you flowers, went to your funeral, dealt with all that shit, and yet here you are. In the flesh.” He laughs again, fingers curving steadily around the grip of his gun. “I think I liked you better dead, Dick.”

The older man frowns, brow dipping into a neat crease. Not a single wrinkle on his perfect, tan, not dead face. “The situation was unavoidable,” he says, like he actually believes a word he utters. “Batman needed a guy on the inside. The, hm, circumstances leading up to that set it up so that I could be that guy. It wasn’t exactly my choice to stay dead, Jay.”

“Names,” Jason snarks, that same anger he felt two days ago rearing its ugly head again. “You know, you say you didn’t have a choice, but I think there��s a clear distinction between dead and alive, don’t you? It might just be me, who knows because fuck if I do, but I think a warning woud’ve sufficed. A fucking warning. ”

Something must click in Dick’s head as his frown deepens. His hands are out of his jacket pockets now. They’re both tense.

“I’ll be back soon,” he says. “Maybe another month. Two at most. When I get back, I’ll try and…” Dick trails off there, as if searching for the right words, but Jason doesn’t have the patience for him to find the right way to say the same bullshit he’s already heard before.

He’s so tired. So, so tired.

“We were fine without you,” he snarls, relishing in the way Dick’s eyes widen at the claim. “The world doesn’t stop turning just because you decide to go off on a little adventure. Newsflash, asshole: None of us need you. You can’t come back here and expect everything to fall back to the way things were just because you decide it’s time to show your face again.”

“I was doing what I thought was right,” Dick snaps back. “Look, I’m sorry you had to step up and be a decent person for once-”

“And there it is,” Jason growls, unholstering his gun. “You think you’re so much better than me. You’re just so goddamn smug you can’t even see your own mistakes. What, is my being here just too inconvenient for you? Can’t make all the little hero-worshipers fall back into line like they used to?”

“Stop putting words in my mouth. I did what I thought was best for everyone and I paid the price for it.”

Jason lunges, cutting the feet between them into inches. “What was best?” he yells, swinging with one fist and aiming with the other. “Who the hell are you to decide that?”

Dick retaliates, pushing away Jason with a kick that connects to his armored chest. It’s barely a glancing blow though and he’s charging forwards again, squeezing the trigger as a shot rings off into the air, missing Dick’s foot by a few centimetres. Another crack of thunder resounds in the distance and a bolt of lightning cracks open the dark sky. Dick rolls away from Jason’s tackle, on the balls of his feet and ready to jump away again.

“I didn’t come here to fight you,” Dick tries, widening his stance. “I just came to, god, I don’t know, Jay. I didn’t ask for this!”

“Cut the bull,” Jason says, raising his gun again. He’s got it trained on Dick’s mid-section and even though a part of him knows he’s not going to take the shot, another part of him has his finger itching towards the trigger. “None of us asked for any of the fuckery that comes our way, but we deal with it, right? I’m dead, you’re dead, the brat’s dead, we’re all dead!”

There’s another crack of thunder, one that brings the rain with it. It pours, instantly drenching the pair, and a sheet of gray divides them. There’s surely something poetic about it, the divide that surrounds them both, but Jason’s not one to dwell long.

“Well, I’m not dead anymore!” Dick screams through the rain. “I am alive! I’ve been dead for eight months and I don’t want to fucking be anymore! I want to come home, Jay. I am alive. Goddamnit, I am alive!”

“So why didn’t you tell us that? Tell any of us that? All of this, that’s on you , Dick. You want to know why there wasn’t a big fucking parade for you? Why no one was fighting over the chance to be the first one to get to shake your hand? It’s because we don’t trust you anymore. No one fucking wants you near them because that’s how badly you fucked up.”

He must strike a nerve because Jason sees something crumple on Dick’s face.

“I didn’t- I didn’t want to leave you guys, Jay. God, you’ve got to believe me on that. I had no choice. It was either I leave and do this for Batman or-”

That same anger rises up again. Anger from different directions, different thoughts, but ultimately because it’s about Batman. Always, always about Batman. What he wants. What he needs you to do. Because if you don’t do it, and someone dies, it’s your fault. And Dick has always been the suck-up, the one to come when called, because even after all their spats and all these years of silence between them, Dick was still a Robin first and goddamnit if Jason doesn’t understand that. He hates that he understands that need to please Batman, to do what he asks in the hope of just some tiny ounce of praise or acknowledgment, but Dick is a grown adult. He’s not Robin anymore.

None of them are.

Dick takes a step forward and Jason squeezes the trigger, feeling the recoil in his wrist as Dick freezes, the bullet breezing right past his armpit. His eyes are wide, finally taking the weapon in as it is, and there must be some realization going off inside Dick’s head because now he’s the one charging in, stance low and shifty, and Jason’s on the defense now. His finger is still on the trigger, just barely, and he’s raising it to aim again when a flying round-house knocks the gun from his hand and fist drives under his chin. It disorients him a bit because, damn, he didn’t actually expect Dick to fight back, Jason was trying to get him to go away, but now they’re both serious. They’re both dangerous.

It’s a no-weapons brawl, just fists and dirty kicks and the rain is still pounding away against the bodega. The rain has plastered Dick’s hair to his skull and Jason is grateful for his helmet because it’s clear the water is making it difficult for the older man to see. He takes advantage of this, striking down with his elbow on Dick’s trapezius and quickly hooking his left foot around his ankle. It works for a split second, Dick thrown off and unbalanced, before Dick is tumbling down and using his own momentum to pull Jason down with him.

They’re on their backs now, rough and cold cement bleeding through their jackets, and the neon Coke sign flickers in and out as thunder continues to roll and shake the world.

“You should’ve stayed dead,” Jason snarls, taking a jab at his older brother’s face. “You should’ve never come back.”

Dick frees one of his hands from underneath the massive bulk of Jason’s suit, palm striking the sides of his helmet. “Take off the godamn hood and say that to my face,” Dick pants, shoving one of his knees into Jason’s side. “Look me in the eye and tell me you want me dead, Jay. Tell me you want me dead. ”

Another bolt of lightning splits the dark and its image refracts against the many puddles, and for a moment, the light sears into Jason’s eyes. He flinches against the burn and it’s enough hesitation for Dick to take the unguarded moment and flip Jason, crouching with one knee on his chest and the other digging into Jason’s forearm. They’re both breathing heavily, exhausted both physically and mentally, and he doesn’t bother to stop his brother as Dick reaches down and shoves the helmet off of his face.

Their eyes meet and Jason squints up at clear blue. Yeah, he hates that color. Hates it so much it feels like something ugly in his stomach, coiling and clenching. They’re both frowning but Dick just looks resigned. Jason hates that too. Now that he has the chance, he can see new scars on his brother’s face. New, finer lines and white and pink discoloration.

Funny how eight months can make someone look so much older.

“I wish you had stayed dead,” Jason finally says, hating himself all the more for it. “I wish you had never come back.”

Dick stumbles off of him and there’s a thin trail of red leaking from one of his eyebrows that keeps getting washed away. Jason doesn’t even remember hitting him there, but he must’ve been excessive. Must’ve over-done it. Just another thing he’s managed to fuck up. Check it off the list.

He sits up, feeling the ache of a sore back and numerous bruises, and watches as his brother leans heavily against the poles of the advertisement. The rain only seems to come down harder, bouncing off the yellow stained bodega roof. He gets to his feet slowly, careful to keep an eye on the slouching man, and treads over to pick up his helmet. His gun is closer to the bright neon sign and when he gets near enough, Dick looks up, something horribly heavy and sad, settling into his face.

“Okay,” is all he says, nodding once. “Okay, Jay.”

Dick reaches into his jacket pocket once more, fiddling with something, but Jason’s too preoccupied putting his helmet back on to really pay attention to it. They’re done fighting. Done with whatever all of that was. His hair is soaked, his jacket is going to have a layer of mildew on it in the morning, and Jason is tired. Beat. He can’t find the will-power to truly be bothered with anything else.

This is his territory so he’s not technically fleeing, but that’s what it looks like. Tail between his legs, off to lick his wounds, Jason’s sure that’s what Dick is thinking (he knows that’s not true, he knows this, and he’s got a little secret screaming, pounding away in the back of his skull, but Jason’s too burned out to deal with it, to address it). He walks to the edge of the roof with his back turned on his older brother, his alive and breathing, long lost brother, and jumps off, sliding down the fire escape and landing on the grimy streets below. His boots squelch in the rain, and there’s water logged into his socks, but Jason ignores it in favor of staring ahead. Refusing to look back.

Here’s the thing about being a Robin that everyone who’s been one before knows.

You rely on each other. There’s no codependency, not really, but there is a certain degree of reliance on past and current Robins. Robin is the inspiration. Not Batman. Batman doesn’t inspire little kids to go out in the night and get punched in the face and witness cruelty so awful you have nightmares for years after. Batman doesn’t inspire light and forgiveness and mercy; that’s all Robin’s doing. The bright colors, the chatter, the youth. That’s all on Robin, the little child weapons they are, and the shared experience of being that for Batman is a bond that runs so much deeper than blood. Thick and interwoven and relied upon so much more heavily than a simple crest or uniform.

And here’s that screaming secret that vibrates inside Jason’s skull: he’s happy Dick’s back. That Dick’s alive. At the end of the day, Dick was the first Robin, the first light, and having him snuffed out was a world that got three shades darker, bleaker. It was Dick’s Robin that truly gave it the twinge of hope all the Robins after carry with them; he was the model, the mold, they shaped themselves after. Him being dead changed that perspective for the worse because the first Robin made it. That’s what was so important, what tips the scales for the confidence of all Robins after. Dick made it. Survived being Robin, survived past Robin, and became his own hero.

Dick outlived being Robin and that was the ultimate goal. To survive.

So him dying was the last straw but now that he’s back, alive, everything was going to be okay again. Yeah, they’re all still messed up from it, there’s going to be a lot of trust built back up again, but they’re Robins for Christ's sake. Thicker than blood, stronger than a crest, relied on more than Batman. And maybe Jason’s being sentimental, still trying to be more eloquent than his sophomore English education allowed him to be, but God, he’s trying. He’s trying so hard despite the ache that wears down his bones and the fire that consumes his brain.

That’s why he gives in. Turns around. Looks back. Does what he thought he was too stubborn to do, but things change and-

The neon sign is brighter. No, that’s not right. There’s another source of that eerie, glowing light and Jason’s eyes widen as he sees a person step through it. Another figure, broad, muscular, unfamiliar, and they’re heading straight for Dick. His brother. Who is still leaning against the advertisement poles. Who’s not doing a damn thing to avoid the stranger that’s fast approaching.

Soreness and fatigue forgotten, Jason starts sprinting, boots pounding against the pavement as he cranes his neck upwards to watch the stranger continue to advance.

“Dick!” he yells in warning, drowned out with the rain. “Dick, move!”

He slams into the fire escape, hands scraping up the ladder as he hauls himself three steps at a time, chest heaving and heart beating wildly. He slips, losing his footing, and Jason grunts as he feels the pull on his shoulder and his knees bang into the sides of the bodega. He pushes on though, gripping the metal tightly and finally reaching the top.

He’s pulling himself over, gasping and searching, and he sees the man tugging Dick closer to the strange light, what Jason thinks must be some sort of portal, and before he’s even gotten a leg over the edge, his right hand is scrambling for purchase on his gun. He takes aim and fires without a second thought and curses aloud when it jams.

“Dick!” he yells again, throwing the useless weapon away and falling over onto the roof. “Stop! Stop! What’re you doing?”

His brother just trudges on though, bicep gripped by the stranger that continues to drag him closer and closer to the pulsating light, ghoulishly pink and saturating the air with an ominous buzz. Another flash of lightning illuminates the sky and Jason trips over himself in his haste, crashing into the slick cement. He whips his head up, too far away, too late, as the stranger disappears fully into the portal, Dick just a few inches away.

“Wait!” Jason cries, still attempting to rise off of his knees. Damn the rain. Damn the weight of his grief. Damn it all, get up. Get up. “Dick, stop! Stop!”

The rain is loud though and there’s a divide between the two of them, mixes of gray, pink, and red light. His brother half turns, watching as the younger stumbles towards him, and Jason can’t hear anything, can hardly process what’s even happening now, but Dick’s lips move in what Jason thinks is, Goodbye, and Jason screams, lunging as his brother fades into the light.

He falls, smashing into the cement once again as he fails to reach for his brother’s hand, and lands where the portal had just been. He lays there on his chest, heaving and attempting to breathe through his helmet, but it’s too hard, too suffocating, and Jason rips it off and flings it as far away from him as he can. His hands clench into fists and he fights back the urge to cry as he slams his fists into the roof. Bam-Bam-Bam.

Something cracks in his knuckles and Jason stops at the pain, shifting back and hanging his head between his knees. There’s a vicious burn in his eyes, his ugly, muddy green eyes, and Jason swipes at them furiously.

“We just got you back,” he whispers through gritted teeth. “We just got you back, Dick, and you, you just-”

A clap of thunder rattles the thin poles of the Coke advertisement as its lights finally flicker out. The night is dark without its glow and Jason is left in obscurity.

“What have I done?"

#bad things happen bingo #what have i done?#Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Spyral #Agent 37 #Red Hood #viceturtle #fanfic #my fic

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kusagrasskusa · 3 years

Text

Yandere Simulator Delinquents.

They're basically copy and paste. Sooo here's my version of them for future reference! I got too excited writing the last one lol- It's been a while since I've been to inspired to write. This is a nice feeling uvu

Umeji Kizuguchi - Yellow guy

He has blonde, previously pink, hair and golden eyes. He wears a yellow shirt under unbuttoned blazer and carries a baseball bat around. He has a scar over his right eye. Umeji is Oroso right hand man and takes over position while she's gone; these are the cannon versions of him and all that's said.

This is my fannon version of him: He was hurt the most during the bullying and therefore the most fearful of pain. He flinches when touched and gets pissed instantly. He's the most cold and aggressive out of the five and it helped him keep him as the most feared of the delinquents. He works out daily, therefore having a good build and likes bitter foods rather than sweets. He'a quite ignorant and refuses to share his likes out of fear of being judged. He still feels depression but now faces more anxiety than anything. He often cries about it late at night.

But despite his depression, he's so determined to stay as a threat to many. It's the kist alive he's ever felt. He's somewhat narcissistic and has both an inferiority and superiority complex, actually. Sensitive to touch and criticism but damn his ego is big. He uses his strength and speed as another threat to fellow students, to let them know that if they mess up then he'll catch and hurt them.

His home life isn't fun. Parents maybe fighting here and there or gone for work or something. It wasn't abusive in any way or anything; in fact, they get along well when they're together. It's just the parents weren't attentive. As Umeji puts it, "My mom, dad, bless their hearts, but they aren't great." They tend to brush things off quickly and spend too much time to themselves.

Dairoku Surikizu - Blue manz

He has blonde, previously blue, hair and blue eyes. He wears a blue shirt under an unbuttoned blazer and carries around a boten or some shit, idk I couldn't figure it out. He has a scar on his lip and from Mulberry's art, it looks like he's the tallest of the group.

Fannonly, he's the most anxious of the group. He never talks about it to anyone but Hokuto, who brushes it off. Dairoku got his scar a long time ago when his parents were agruing; he hid under his bed when he was nine and started to cry. To calm himself, he started to bite his lip and scratch himself on the forearms and face to calm himself down. He cut himself in the process badly and tried to hide it from his parents so he didn't get yelled at.

His home life wasn't too bad either; his dad left the family not long after that incident when he was nine so his mom has to take on the roles of two people. She never has time for him so the other delinquents make him feel so happy. He likes- no, loves to talk to them but tries to look sketchy in the process.

Hokuto Furukizu - Purple manz

He has blonde, previously golden, hair and purple eyes. From Mulberry's art, he seems to be the second tallest, but very close to Dairoku. He carried around a metal pipe and wears a purple shirt under his opened blazer. He has a scar on his cheek too btw.

Fannonly, he talks most to Dairoku. He usually brushed off what he says, but relates to him most. Of the 5, he desperately wants to be normal and free the most. He was well popular in middle school but his anger once got the best of him and a fight caused him to lose a lot of his reputation. It just got worse as time went on however; but he misses those days so much.

His scare on his cheek came from the fight and serves as a curse mark to him; "The day they ruined my life." He hates looking at it and gets pissed off when people even look at it. He's always been hot headed but his physical appearance is his number one insecurity. Hokuto's homelife is normal and he's goodboi at home. Cleans, cooks sometimes, has an equally good relationship with his mom as he does his dad.

He managed to convince them that his new appearance and signs of depression from last year was just influence from ex friends. Eventually they just took his word for it despite how terrible of a lie that is, so they stopped asking.

Gaku Hikitsuri - Red guyz

According to Mulberry's art, the blonde who once had light blue hair and red eyes is the second tallest. He has a scar on his forehead and carried around a crowbar. His shirt is red and under, you guessed it, an unbuttoned blazer.

He's a genuine tsundere; the angriest of the group. He easily crushes on people like a simp and gets nervous easily, so he acts all defensive and aggressive around them especially. Other than Umeji, he's the quickest to shove people around and assert his position. But for the most part, he intentionally shoves and shoulder checks people he finds attractive or who he thinks is superior than him, which is a lot of people.

He suffers from an inferiority complex that makes him think everyone judges him behind his back and talks about him especially. Therefore, he's the loudest and quickest to insults; he's also very self conscious. He's scared to make noise in class, talk, eat in front of people, and others because he's scared to be judged. Because as long as nothing is brought to the table, there's nothing to judge. His scar was actually from Kokoro, the bully who's just a sadist according to the character files from Yandev, who got pissed at him defending himself and hit him down with a ring. He got cut badly and almost passed out from the hit; but hey, it's not like he can do anything about since she's a girl, and he'd be expelled instantly. The bitch even resulted him with a broken arm at some point.

Home life isn't great; rundown trailerpark, alcoholic dad and whole of a step mom, dead mom, things like that. Damn, if only he got more than a mattress on the floor, a cover, pillow, dresser filled with all his clothes and school supplies to live on. But he can't even get a job without his scar making people think he's worse than what his persona displays.

Hayanari Tsumeato - Grey manz

The grey eyed, blonde hair man with natural red hair who carries around a lead pipe is Hayanari, who's last name "Tsumeato" means scratch mark. He has a grey shirt under his unbuttoned blazer and a scar over his nose.

Fannonly, he was the one with the no fucks given attitude. He was usually straight faced and brutally honest when talking to people, but wasn't necessarily judgemental. It's hard to explain but just because he says, "damn Daniel, you're built like a carrot," doesn't mean he cares about his appearance, even if whoever tf Daniel is actually looks like a carrot or not. He was the daredevil who did things solely for his entertainment.

In a way, it was almost sociopathic or narcissistic; he'd be fine with embarrassing someone in front of anyone because it got a smile our of him. If someone complained, he'd roll his eyes and convince whoever that they were overreacting and that they were the one at fault. He's very manipulative and sarcastic, usually just smiling cockily and speaking innocently. Kinda emo, but he wasn't against that title. He actually liked the occult and for the most part, was down for anything that didn't have too much time needed, like school or family.

He was in the middle of everything; okay with cooking, occult, art, science, reading, anine and games, so there wasn't much a person can dislike him for in terms of social standards. He wasn't appart of a dislikes group like the occult kids or science kids, not with a loved group like cooking or art kids. But when he started to express a bit of interest in the occult was when people could finally pin him down and bully him back for all those insulting jokes that sounded way too serious. And before he knew it, he got wrapped up in the hate and couldn't get himself free.

Home life is something he never, not even to his fellow delinquents, never talks about. But one thing worth noting is that he's never seen without a long sleeved shirt or jacket of some kind. He used to pass out time to time during gym classes because he was overheated due to bringing a long sleeved version of the gym shirt to school and never drank anything. When his parents were called, they always insisted on saying they'll do something about it but they never did, either. The delinquents do think there's some kind of abuse at his house; besides, Hayanari is adopted and those things happen often even if it's more common in the foster system.

His family is something he never talks about. Back in middle school, his friends were able to see his "parents" time to time when they picked him up from school. It was immediately obvious that he wasn't related to them; hell, he rarely called them mom or dad. At home, until adopted, was great. Friends coming over, happy family moments, being able to play games and use electronics, things like that. But when he was adopted was when it wouldn't be easy to just tell someone what was to come; quite obviously, it was abuse. Verbal and physical, nearly everyday. It was worse in the beginning but happened less often as he got older.

His "mom" would call the police a few times him because she felt "threatened." She hit him so he would hit back and yell while doing so, so she has evidence of an attack. But luckily, her skin isn't sensitive enough to show any marks unlike Hayanari's. Other times, his "dad" would get involved and hurt him badly.

#fannon #backstory #yandere simulator #umeji kizuguchi #hayanari tsumeato #dairoku surikizu #gaku hikitsuri #hokuto furukizu #anime #fanfic #writing

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 3 years

Text

Shelbys at Somme: Chapter 14

Thomas X Reader

Word Count: 1413

Summary: Grace finally gets some answers that she’s been desperate for.

by @adventuresintooblivion

For the rest of the evening Y/N sat at the piano and played until well after the Garrison closed. It wasn’t until Grace fumbled with a keg that she even realized the time. She slowly stood and made her way toward the bar.

“Need help with that?”

Grace huffed, narrowly missing her toes as the keg fell to the ground once again. “No. Not from you at least. If Henry or Arthur were here, I might accept.”

Y/N sighed, “Look, today is a good day so I’m actually not useless for once.”

“Quite frankly, I don’t care.”

“What the fuck, Grace? I can at least hold the door open.” Y/N stepped around the struggling woman to do just that.

Grace practically growled, “If you’re gonna be like that then fine, grab the other end.”

Y/N quickly propped the door open with her shoe before running over the help. They struggled with the weight, neither really used to lifting something quite that large or heavy. They managed to get it just past the threshold of the door before disaster struck. Grace stumbled, knocking the door back far enough that it gained momentum. With that extra momentum it sent Y/N’s shoe flying and the door closed behind then. A resounding click echoed through the small back room.

Dread slowly settled in Y/N’s stomach, “Please tell me you have the keys on you.”

Grace’s face had paled by several shades, “They’re on the bar.”

They heaved the keg into place where it would be tapped later before Grace rushed toward the door. Sure enough it was locked. Grace bent down and rammed the door with her shoulder. It shuddered, but not enough for there to be a possibility of it breaking.

Y/N grimaced, “I’d help, but I don’t think my back would hold up.”

“Right.” Grace’s voice was clipped as she tried again.

“You know we can wait for someone to show up. Thomas will at least get here before too much longer.”

Grace cast an almost pained look back at her, “Oh yes, I bet he’ll definitely miss getting his cock wet.”

Y/N shook her head, “How many times do I have to tell you? The last time Thomas and I fucked was four years ago for Christ’s sake.”

Grace’s lips pressed into a thin line. She stared at the door, willing it to open, but it just stood proudly. Taunting her. The sound of metal scraping against wood caught her attention. Y/N stood, brandishing a crowbar.

“Think this’ll work?”

Grace shook her head, “The hinges are on the other side of the door.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

With a loud thud Y/N leaned against the wall and slowly slid down until she was sitting on the cold ground. She wrapped her coat around her. A threadbare thing that hung loosely off her frame. If Grace looked closely she would see that it had originally been a men’s coat that had been altered. But right now Grace was looking everywhere but at Y/N.

As time passed Grace also sunk to the floor. She knelt before the door her silent prayers ignore. And as more time passed, the harder it was to ignore the anger that clawed at her chest. The inspector’s words repeated time and again. Matthew is dead, because of her.

As time passed the room grew colder.Without the oven running there was nothing to ward off the chill and the hard floors did nothing to conserve what little heat was in the room. Shivers ran all along Grace’s body by the time Y/N spoke.

“You know if we sat together we’d be warmer. Maybe even just this side of comfortable.”

Grace shot her a glare, one that would’ve made Aunt Pol proud. “I’m not snuggling up to you just because it’s a little chilly.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Grace, a little chilly is when a rouge breeze gets past your coat. This is bloody cold and winter is only a couple days away from properly starting. Now you can scoot over here or I can go over there, but I’m pretty sure there’s a draft coming from under that door that’ll make us both miserable.”

A faint breeze tickled Grace’s knees as if to drive Y/N’s point home. Reluctantly, she lifted herself from the floor. Her joints protested loudly as she made her way to finally curly up beside the woman she hated. A few minutes later a small layer of heat built up between them.

“So.” Grace asked. “What brings a soldier like you back after three years?”

Y/N raised her eyebrow, “I think you know that answer to that.”

“Indulge me.”

“Well.” Y/N sighed. “I came back because of a couple reasons I guess. Sorta fell in love, which that’s no surprise to anyone with eyes. The idea that my entire company thought I’d gotten blown up didn’t sit well with me and...I guess I didn’t really have anywhere else to go.”

Grace chuckled, “Sounds awfully sweet for a killer.”

Y/N turned to face Grace, “Killer? For what I did in the war?”

She froze. Her anger had gotten the best of her, making her slip in the stupidest of ways. So when Y/N gave her an out she could only nod dumbly.

“Are you kidding me? I don’t like killing people, Grace. That shit gives me nightmares for crying out loud.”

Grace opened and closed her mouth a few times before blurting out, “Doesn’t it get easier? The more you do it, I mean?”

The horror on Y/N’s face melted away to reveal something much more somber beneath, “Yes, and no.”

She waited in confusion, not trusting herself to continue speaking. Y/N took that as an indication that she needed to elaborate.

“The first time you kill, I think that’s the one that takes the biggest piece of you with it. That’s the one you always remember and the one that replays the most. Next time it’s still shocking, but it’s not as bad. Eventually that continues, each death taking a smaller piece. You say you’re doing it for a cause, or to protect someone. That’s when it’s the easiest. When they all blur together and you’re so sure that you’re right that you feel unstoppable. “

“But then...I joined the war and despite all the horrible things I’d seen, I started hearing about the families back home. They’d all tell stories about the siblings that got left behind or the children that would be born while they were gone. Then you start to hear those stories when you’re pointing a rifle at the enemy. Suddenly he’s not the enemy anymore, just a person who got dragged into this. Like we all did. But you can’t hesitate because if you do, all those people who are depending on you die. Then they tell you that the killing can stop now but it’s too late. Every death still takes a piece but you’re pretty sure you’ve got no pieces left. That’s when it becomes impossible again.”

Grace can’t stop the words now, “Have you killed someone recently?”

Y/N doesn’t answer right away, “It was when I got kidnapped. I… It was an accident. You get too good at making sure the other guy never gets up and then the one time you try to miss. I was aiming for his jaw, I got him in the head.”

“Do you regret it?” Grace’s words were barely a whisper.

“Of course I do.” Y/N pressed her eyes into the palm of her hand. “He was just another copper. Just another pair of feet that was gonna kick me until I couldn’t breathe. They said his death was the cause, but they would’ve done it anyway. Still, I wish I hadn’t.”

While it was far from gone the anger inside Grace now felt hollow. It’s claws weren’t as sharp as they had been a moment before. Nor did it break through the mask she’d carefully crafted over months. She could finally breathe again.

Y/N’s voice broke as she continued, “You know, I don’t think he saw it coming. Which is honestly the best we could hope for, right?

Grace rested her hand on her shoulder. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was trying to do but in the end she pulled Y/N closer until she was leaning against her chest.

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy x reader #tommy imagine #reader insert #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder

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hellofromthe-otter-slide · 3 years

Text

we never found the answer but we knew one thing

Hello, everyone! Another year, another a Big Bang, and I was lucky enough to take part in the She-Ra Big Bang 2021 hosted by @sherabigbang. Please be sure to head on over there to see all of the other amazing fics being posted and all of the artwork too. Everyone has worked so hard, and they’re all putting out some amazing content.

The amazing artwork done for my fic was done by @astrumumbrae, and it’s so good and angsty and fits the scene perfectly.

A quick note before finally getting into my fic, I’ve had to split it up into two chapters. The end of the semester and finals ended up getting the better of me, but I’m going to finish the second chapter as soon as I’m done with my papers and grades are in. But hey, ya gurl has a Master’s degree now, so there’s that.

Alright, onto the fic. Enjoy!

Read on AO3.

Chapter 1: like we’re a lost cause

They catch her off guard, jumping her in an alley despite her best effort to evade their scans, and she tries running, but a hand catches her ankle before she’s even able to think about the safest place to run.

Her only option is to fight, and even though she knows where to strike, she knows what to do, she also hasn’t eaten anything substantial in a week, and it’s starting to slow her down.

It’s a useless fight, but she fights nonetheless. There’s really nothing else she can do, even if she’s only one against a whole Horde.

The host that caught her ankle pulls, and she loses her footing, but she’s able to kick the hand away, the crunch of bones sounding in her ear as she fights to pull herself up, but just as she’s got her feet under her, she feels arms wrap around her chest and a host walks up to her and grabs her crowbar before she has a chance to use it.

The host feels familiar to her, like she knew the person long ago before the very existence of a person inside the body was wiped clean. Their eyes are blank, still colored, still a very human shade of brown, but their body moves robotically, like they aren’t thinking about what they’re doing.

Still, she finally recognizes him, a boy who was a friend of a friend in high school. He was awkward, weak, and kind of scrawny, and not much has changed despite the hard labor that hosts are put through without complaint.

“Hey, Kyle,” she rasps out, her voice so rough from weeks without use.

He doesn’t respond.

“Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t say anything,” she struggles a bit on the other host’s hold, but it’s a solid as can be, “None of you ever do.”

He walks closer to her, her crowbar held solidly in his hands. His posture, so hunched in high school, is straighter now, more confident, and he holds her crowbar like he knows how to use it.

She wonders how much of that is growing up and how much of it is the hold over him.

He’s not totally perfect, though. She watches his movements closely, and just as he brings the crowbar down, she gets just enough footing to twist the host holding her, leaving the implant at the base of the skull in the direct path of the hit.

She hears the electricity crackle as metal comes down on the implant, and the host holding her in place spasms and releases her, and she falls to the ground and quickly dodges as Kyle brings her crowbar down again.

She tries to get up, but Kyle is too fast, and he throws himself on her, and she grabs onto her crowbar to get some leverage, but the skinny, awkward kid she knew forever ago was gone, and all that is left is a husk of a person with immeasurable strength.

She hears the sound of footsteps, and when she takes a chance and looks around them, the other hosts in the Horde are circling around them. She’s still fighting Kyle, but the crowbar is creeping closer and closer to her throat, and any hope of overpowering him and running away is slipping away.

“This isn’t really how I imagined going out,” she says like a conversation, but her voice comes out strained through gritted teeth, “I’ve done some awful things since this all started, so it only makes sense I would die alone.”

Kyle doesn’t respond, and she feels the cool metal of the crowbar against her throat.

“I guess I’m not alone,” she grits out, air getting harder and harder to suck in, “You’re here with me, aren’t you, Kyle?”

Kyle’s eyes are blank.

She starts to see spots at the edge of her vision, and somewhere far, far away, she swears she hears someone say her name, but it must be the lack of oxygen.

Even if there was anyone here to save her, no one would.

Her vision fades, and the second before she is completely swallowed in black, she sees the hosts crumble around her, and the last thing her mind sees are soft blue eyes.

“Catra?” a voice asks, a voice so familiar to her that she’s sure it has to be a hallucination caused by lack of air.

She passes out before she can respond.

~*~

Catra wakes up suddenly, the nightmare still gripping its claws into her even though she’s no longer asleep.

She looks around herself frantically, trying to find something, anything, that she can clutch to herself for comfort, but they’re not given much here.

The top bunk has a pillow, a thin blanket, and scratchy sheets. She’s not allowed any of the stuffed animals she saw kids at school with, and the blanket is barely long enough to cover her body, let alone to clutch it close to her.

She hears shuffling from the bunk underneath her, and Adora pulls herself to peek over the bar.

“Are you okay?” Adora asks, her voice quiet enough not to wake up anyone else in the room.

Catra pushes away from Adora, her back pushing into the wall, and Adora’s eyes go wide.

“Sorry,” Adora says quickly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” She pulls herself up into the bed and sits crossed-legged across from Catra, and she offers Catra her hand.

Catra tries and pulls her blanket around herself, hoping that if she disappears under the fabric, Adora will leave her alone, but there’s no movement, no indication that Adora gave up and went back to bed.

She pushes the fabric down under her eyes, and Adora is still there, her hand still held out to Catra, and she’s smiling.

“You sounded really scared,” Adora says, her hand dropping down to the bed but staying in the space between them, “I heard you whimpering from my bunk.”

Catra still doesn’t say anything, but she watches Adora closely.

She’s Mrs Weaver’s favorite, and Catra is sure that she can’t trust Adora, but Adora’s here and offering her comfort, and there’s no one else in this entire house that has ever even tried.

“If you’re scared, you can share my bunk with me,” Adora says easily, “I get lonely down there, and it would be warmer too.”

Catra is sure there’s some kind of catch. They’re not supposed to get out of their bunks at night, and Adora offering to share breaks at least five rules, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s looking at Catra with an openness Catra has never felt.

Her options are to take Adora’s offer or stay up the rest of the night for fear of falling asleep, so she grabs Adora’s hand.

“Okay,” Catra says, her voice small, and Adora’s smile gets so wide that Catra can see the gap left from the tooth Adora lost the other day while her and Lonnie were roughhousing.

“Come on,” Adora says excitedly while throwing her legs over the bar to get down, “I’ll keep you safe.”

Adora drops down first, and she climbs back up just enough to grab Catra’s pillow and blanket for her before making room for Catra to get down too.

Catra almost falls when her feet hit the floor, but Adora is quick to grab her before she makes enough noise to alert Mrs Weaver.

Adora gets in bed first, and she pushes herself up against the wall so that there’s plenty of room on her bed for Catra, and Catra climbs in hesitantly. She’s still not quite sure she can trust Adora, and she’s almost certain Mrs Weaver will find out, but it’s easy to forget all that as Adora moves Catra’s pillow a little closer to her own and snuggles up under her blanket.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Adora whispers.

Catra nods her head no and snuggles a little closer to Adora. She reasons that it’s cold in their room, and the blankets are thin, so it’s just for warmth, but Adora grabs her hand and Catra doesn’t move away.

“That’s okay,” Adora smiles sleepily, her blanket pulled up under her chin, “I’ll be right here anyway.”

“You promise?” Catra asks, and she starts to feel drowsy, the nightmare from earlier slowly forgotten.

“I promise,” Adora whispers right before they both start to drift off, “I’ll always be right here.”

~*~

Catra’s hazy as she wakes up, her head throbbing, and she can’t move or open her eyes.

There’s a quiet conversation going on beside her, and there’s that voice again, one she hasn’t heard for years, and she’s sure that she’s hallucinating. She doesn’t recognize the other voice, though, and she’s not cognizant enough to comprehend anything.

She can already feel herself drifting off again, and no matter how much she tries to fight it, she passes out again.

~*~

Catra closes her locker and turns to see Adora waiting for her, smiling wider than Catra has seen all day.

“You look insane,” Catra comments, adjusting her bag to sit more comfortable on her shoulders.

Adora rolls her eyes. “Hello, Adora,” she mimics Catra’s voice, her smile not wavering, “It’s so nice to see you after a long day of classes, Adora.”

Catra smirks, “You’re not really helping the insanity argument here, dummy.”

“Just ask me why I’m here.”

“We go to the same school and live at the same place. I figured you were here so we can go home.”

“Catra,” Adora whines, her smile finally faltering to help the effect.

“Fine, fine,” Catra sighs, “What are you doing standing at my locker, which is where you are every day after school in the off-season?”

“I’m so happy you asked,” Adora says happily, her smile coming back, and Catra fights back a matching smile, “Mrs Weaver won’t be home until after dinner tonight, and Lonnie agreed to do our chores for us today.”

“How did you manage that?” Catra asks, “Lonnie fucking hates me.”

Adora sighs, and Catra already knows what she’s going to say next.

“She doesn’t hate you, Catra,” Adora and Catra say at the same time, Adora’s voice exasperated and Catra’s high-pitched in an attempt to mimic Adora.

“She really doesn’t,” Adora adds on, “But that’s not the point. I promised Lonnie I would do her chores for the rest of the week, so, if Mrs Weaver is gone . . .” She trails off, waiting for Catra to finish the thought.

“We’re free until she gets back,” Catra says excitedly.

Adora nods, and Catra realizes now that she has her hands help behind her back, because she reveals what it is.

“Mrs Oakland let me loan out one of the cameras for you,” Adora says, offering Catra the camera, “I know you’ve been wanting to go to the cemetery to take some pictures, so I figured we’d use our afternoon of freedom to catch the bus and go.”

Catra takes the camera and holds it against her chest, trying her hardest to hold in her excitement, but the hallway has emptied enough that Catra doesn’t stop the smile from pulling at her lips.

“This is okay, I guess,” Catra says in pretend nonchalance.

“I know you’re excited,” Adora rolls her eyes and gestures around the empty hallway, “There’s not even anyone here to keep up the façade.”

“Come on, dummy,” Catra carefully puts the camera into her bag and then grabs Adora’s hand to pull her out of the school, “I want to savor every second we’re free.”

Later, after hours of walking around the cemetery across town and grabbing chocolate milkshakes from a place down the road, Catra and Adora make it back to their group home just minutes before Mrs Weaver, and even though Mrs Weaver seems suspicious, she has no proof that anything is off.

At bedtime, Mrs Weaver turns off the lights with her usual threats, and Catra waits until everyone else falls asleep before climbing down into Adora’s bunk, the camera held carefully in her hands.

They flip through the pictures until they’re too sleepy to keep scrolling, and Catra snuggles into Adora after setting the camera down on the floor.

“Today was a really good day,” Catra whispers as she starts to drift off.

“It was,” Adora agrees, “Someday, our lives will be even more days like today.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah,” Adora says, pulling Catra closer, “I promise.”

~*~

Catra wakes up again to someone moving her onto a stretcher, and she’s sure that she’s been brought to one of the facilities set up to make more hosts.

She starts to fight the hands grabbing her, her mind too fuzzy and vision too blurry to see what’s happening. All she can think about is getting away.

A hand tries grabbing her wrist, and she pulls away violently, but another hand grabs her shoulder and shoves her down onto the stretcher. Straps hold her down and make fighting impossible, but she still pulls.

“Stop!” That voice shouts, the one so familiar to her, “You’re hurting her!”

“Adora?” Catra asks frantically, looking around herself for the hallucination.

She feels a pinch, and her vision clears just enough to see her hallucination pushing herself to the edge of the stretcher before it gets fuzzy again.

“You’re safe here, Catra,” her hallucination promises, “I’ll keep you safe.”

The last thing Catra sees before being engulfed in black is her hallucination grabbing her hand.

~*~

The sky darkens above them, and Catra looks up from the field expecting to see dark clouds rolling in, but there’s a ship covering the sky. Before Catra can think, she runs from the track to the soccer fields, looking around for Adora.

She finds Adora ushering her team inside, and when Catra calls her name, she nudges the last girl through the doors before meeting Catra at the fence.

“We need to get inside,” Adora says quickly.

“I don’t think getting inside is going to help.”

There’s a sound of pressure release, and Adora and Catra look up at the sky to see the ship stopping above the school, something spike-like coming out of it.

“What the fuck is going on?” Catra asks, and Adora doesn’t answer. She hops the fence, grabs Catra’s hand and runs into the building.

The other girls on the soccer team wait for Adora before running further into the school. Adora follows them without question, and Catra looks over her shoulder and sees the spike sinking into the turf of the soccer fields. She just barely sees doors opening before they turn the corner, and they keep running into the center of the school.

Adora stops them right before the cafeteria, and Catra sees other students start to fill in. Catra notices the theater kids first, still in costume from their dress rehearsal, and a few are still holding their props like some kind of safety blanket.

Then there’s the robotics team looking like a mix of excited and scared with the Quizbowl kids intermingling with them.

Catra sees the other members of the track team run in, and when their coach spots her among the soccer players, she waves Catra over.

“I’ll be right back,” Catra tells Adora, and Adora lets go of Catra’s hand like she just realized she’s still holding it.

“You know where I’ll be,” Adora says, and the easy smile seems forced, like she’s trying to pretend like she isn’t freaking out.

Catra gives her a forced smile before running back over to her team.

Her coach marks Catra off of her list, and the rest of her team pulls her into the conversation they’re already having.

“Did you see it?” one of the freshmen asks the group, but she’s looking right at Catra.

“Yeah,” Catra says, barely paying attention and looking over to see Adora talking to a few girls on the soccer team.

“What was it?” another girl asks, one of the other seniors, but Catra has stopped paying attention completely, wondering when she can get away and get back to Adora.

Someone grabs Catra’s wrist when she doesn’t respond, and she pulls away and pushes the girl back.

“Don’t touch me!” Catra yells, pulling her hand back to strike again, but she feels a hand grab her wrist and an arm around her waist.

“Hey,” Adora says gently, and Catra doesn’t know how Adora got over here so fast, but even with Adora holding her back, Catra still feels wired.

Her teammates help the other girl up, and she glares at Catra as she brushes herself off, and Catra tries lunging forward, but Adora strengthens her hold, and Catra’s stuck.

“Driluth!” her coach yells, putting herself between Catra and her teammate, “Now is not the time to be picking fights.”

“She fucking started it,” Catra growls.

“I was just trying to get her attention,” her teammate argues, but Coach puts a hand up to either of them to stop any other explanations.

“Grayskull, take her to go cool off,” Catra’s coach orders.

“Yes, Coach.” Adora drops her arm from Catra’s waist, but the hand around her wrist stays, and Adora pulls Catra off into one of the dark hallways away from teammates and theater kids and robotics nerds.

Catra pulls her hand from Adora’s grip and punches the wall, recoiling immediately from the pain.

“Why did you do that?” Adora asks, her voice exasperated, and she gently takes Catra’s hand in her own.

“What the fuck else am I supposed to do?” Catra asks, “Normally I run, but I can’t do that with whatever the hell is going on out there.”

Adora runs her thumb across Catra’s knuckles, and it’s enough to tamp down the last dregs of anger, frustration, and panic that Catra is feeling.

“Why did you shove her, Catra?” Adora asks, her eyes catching Catra’s while she waits for an answer.

“I—” Catra looks down and away, because she doesn’t really have a good answer. She can’t remember what was going through her head when her teammate grabbed her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it felt like Mrs Weaver, and she shoved her teammate without thinking twice.

“I don’t really know,” Catra says softly, and then everything is too much. Between worrying about whatever is going on outside, keeping track of Adora, and whatever just happened between her and her teammate, she feels strung out, and she pulls her hand away from the comfort Adora is trying to give her.

“But thank you so much for coming to my rescue,” Catra says sarcastically, cradling her hand close to her chest.

“Catra, you were about to start a fight,” Adora tries moving back into her space, but Catra just backs away.

“And you just had to play the hero, didn’t you?” Catra sneers, and everything in her head is telling her to stop, telling her to just let Adora comfort her, but she pushes it so far back she can barely hear it anymore.

“It’s not like that—”

“Coming in at just the right time to save Catra from herself,” she cuts Adora off, her nails digging so hard into her skin that she’s sure she’s going to draw blood, “I mean, you’ve already made everyone think of you as my keeper.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” Adora says, annoyed, “I’m just trying to help you.”

“Then stop helping!”

Suddenly, they hear something, and Adora looks into the nearest classroom to see that the TV has turned itself on, but there’s nothing but static.

Everything, the fight, Catra’s response, yelling at Adora, is forgotten as Catra looks behind them out to one of the doors of the building. She sees something very not human walk in front of the doors and station itself right outside, its back to them.

“Look,” Catra says quietly, grabbing Adora’s arm so that Adora will turn away from the staticky TV.

“What is it doing?”

“It looks like it’s guarding the doors,” Catra says, “There’s probably one on all of the entrances.”

“No way out,” Adora whispers, then grabs Catra and pulls her back to everyone else, “We need to let the others know.”

They get back to the cafeteria to see all of the TVs on and showing nothing but static, but suddenly, everything clears to a black screen and a robotic voice says, “Be calm. Do not leave.”

“Real comforting,” Catra whispers sarcastically.

The TVs play that message on repeat, that same robotic voice stating, “Be calm. Do not leave,” over and over and over again.

Catra looks around to see some of the other students pull out cell phones, but it looks like they aren’t working.

“Your phone?” Catra asks Adora.

“In my locker with my stuff. Yours?”

“Same,” Catra thinks on it for a second, then adds, “As if Weaver would pick up.”

“We’re trapped in the school, Catra,” Adora starts pulling at her ponytail, and Catra can see her breath start to pick up, “What are we supposed to do?”

“Hey,” Catra pulls Adora’s hands away from her hair, “Please, do not start freaking on me. We’re fine.”

“We’re trapped.”

“We are,” Catra agrees, “Freaking out isn’t going to help, though.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

Catra looks around them to see that most of the students are sat in groups, some of them talking, others looking one step away from breaking.

“Right now, we sit,” Catra says, pulling Adora to a wall and sitting her down, “We’ll try and figure out what’s going on after you calm down.”

“Catra, I’m scared,” Adora admits, and Catra’s surprised to hear her say it.

Adora’s not afraid of anything. Adora stands up to bullies and faces their rival teams with an easy confidence, and she comforts Catra with strong steady arms.

Catra isn’t used to being the one to offer comfort.

Still, even if she was mad at Adora just a few minutes ago, she’s going to fill that role if Adora needs it.

“So am I,” Catra admits softly, “There’s nothing we can do until we get more information, though, right?”

Adora nods, “Right.”

“Then, for right now, we wait,” Catra says, taking a seat next to Adora.

~*~

Catra wakes up slowly, her hearing coming back to her before she’s willing to open her eyes against the bright light she already knows is waiting for her.

She thinks she’s in one of the host facilities, that she’ll open her eyes to the clones standing over her, an implant ready to erase every part of who she is.

Maybe erasing it all is for the best, Catra thinks, twitching her hand a bit as feeling comes back, but when she twitches, she feels the warmth of a hand in her own.

It’s too comforting, too human, to be one of the hosts.

Then she hears whispers.

“Adora, you need to grab something to eat and get some rest,” a soft voice, low and comforting, says in the quiet of the room.

“Bow’s right,” another voice, soft and insistent, agrees, “You’ve been here since we found her.”

“I’m not leaving,” that voice, her voice, is closer than the other two, “Not until she wakes up.”

“We don’t know how long that will be,” the soft and insistent voice says, and Catra can hear some frustration in there too, “She hasn’t woken up since my mom administered the sedative.”

“I’m not letting her wake up alone,” her voice says, and it has that same determination that echoes in Catra like a lost memory.

The person with the soft, insistent voice groans, and Catra recognizes the feeling.

“We’ll bring you some food,” the low and comforting voice says, and then Catra hears a door open and click shut before silence fills the room.

The hand in her own squeezes, and as Catra starts to come back to herself, as every part of her starts to feel less groggy and more alert, she’s too afraid to open her eyes.

She’s still not convinced that this isn’t just a hallucination. She worries that she’ll wake up to see the girl she chose to let go, but it won’t be real. She’ll come face to face with the one person in the world she’s cared about more than herself, but everything will disappear like smoke, and Catra will still be alone.

There’s a sigh, and then Catra feels the bed shift just slightly.

“I’m right here,” her hallucination’s voice assures her, “And I’m not going anywhere.”

But you did, Catra wants to say, You already left.

She doesn’t say it out loud, though. There’s no point arguing with something that’s not really there.

Catra feels herself drifting off again, but unlike the last time, she can fight it, and she does.

She figures there’s no reason to delay the inevitable. Even if she refuses to wake up, they’ll make her a host anyway, and she won’t be Catra anymore. She’ll be just another blank-eyed worker for them.

When she opens her eyes, the overhead fluorescents are almost blinding, and she groans and closes her eyes quickly, her head trying to bury itself back into the pillow to block out the light.

“Catra?” More movement on the bed, and then Catra feels a hand against her cheek.

“Not real,” Catra rasps out to remind herself.

“What?” her hallucination asks, a gentle thumb running across Catra’s cheek.

“You’re not real,” Catra says a bit louder this time, and when she opens her eyes and they adjust to the light, Catra can’t believe she’s seeing her again.

Adora, her hair up and her blue eyes full of concern and worry.

Catra knows the look. She’s seen it a million times. Every time Mrs Weaver punished her, every time Adora held Catra while they tried to sleep, Catra saw that same look.

“What do you mean?” Adora’s brows pull together in confusion.

Catra reaches out and touches Adora, her fingertips running over the fabric of Adora’s shirt, and she thinks, for just a moment, that her hand might go through Adora completely, but she feels the soft fabric.

“You’re not real,” Catra whispers.

“I’m real, Catra,” Adora keeps running her thumb over Catra’s cheek, “I’m really here.”

“You’re—” Catra breathes out, her fingers fisting into Adora’s shirt. Despite the fact that she still isn’t totally sure, her previous hallucinations of Adora have never interacted with her, never touched her, never made her feel so safe.

“You’re real,” Catra says, a flood of different emotions filling her up, “How?”

“You must’ve been close to Bright Moon without realizing it,” Adora explains, “We were doing a supplies run, and I saw you fighting a group of hosts. I ended up running to help you before anyone could stop me.”

“There were, like, ten hosts.”

“I didn’t take them down myself,” Adora responds, “Bow and Glimmer ran after me, and everyone helped.”

Catra can almost imagine it, Adora seeing her and running without any real plan and no way to help either of them but doing it without a second thought.

Then she realizes something.

“I’m in Bright Moon then.”

“Uh,” Adora pulls her hand off of Catra’s cheek, “Yeah. You were unconscious, so medical brought you back.”

Catra gets flashes of waking up, of being restrained, of fighting because she didn’t know what else to do. She sees bandages on her wrists that she knows she didn’t get from fighting the hosts.

Catra releases Adora’s shirt and clutches the blanket instead.

“I, uh—” Adora gets up from her chair, and she trips over one of the legs before righting herself again, “I should go get Angella. She’ll want to know you’re up.”

Adora leaves, and Catra is left alone in whatever Bright Moon is using for medical. There are other beds in the room, none of them occupied, and Catra wonders for just a moment how often Bright Moon uses their medical, because just from this glimpse, she doesn’t think it’s very often.

Even though it’s bright, it’s quiet. There’s the ambient noise of electricity and the soft whir of machines, but otherwise, the only sound is Catra shifting in her bed and her heavy breaths.

The door opens again, and a tall woman enters the room, Adora and two people that Catra hazily recognizes following just behind.

The tall woman steps up to Catra’s bed and takes Adora seat.

“It’s nice to see you awake, Catra,” the woman says, and Catra notices that her voice is kind, if a little stern, and it raises every warning signal she has been able to ignore for years, “I’m Angella.”

“How long was I out?” Catra asks, trying to pay attention to the woman sitting next to her and not Adora a few feet behind

“Almost five days,” Angella answers, “Between the injuries and the sedatives, and given that you were dehydrated and malnourished, I’m surprised you weren’t out for longer.”

Catra doesn’t have anything to say to that, so she doesn’t say anything at all.

“Right, yes,” Angella stands, and Catra notices a stethoscope hanging around her neck, “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to do a few checks to make sure you’re alright.”

Catra looks past her again to Adora and the other two, and Angella follows her gaze and seems to have a moment of understanding.

“It does seem to be quite crowded in here,” Angella mutters to herself, though Catra thinks she’s also meant to hear it, then to Adora and the others, she says, “Out, please.”

The other two leave without issue, but just as Adora winds up to argue, Angella puts a hand up to stop her and says, “You can come back in after I’m done, Adora.”

Adora mumbles something under her breath, but even still, she gives Catra one last look before following the other two out the door.

“That’s better,” Angella says, turning back to Catra with a smile, and Catra knows it’s probably meant to be comforting, that asking Adora and the other two to leave is probably meant to be a kind act, but she doesn’t believe it.

It wouldn’t be the first time kindness was skillfully used against her, so she keeps her guard up.

Angella moves closer to Catra, and Catra’s fist grips tightly into the blanket, her body ready to run or fight.

Catra doesn’t expect Angella to notice, but she does, and she gives Catra as much space as she can.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Angella assures Catra softly, taking the stethoscope from around her neck, “I can explain everything I’m doing if that would help.”

Catra’s not sure how much she’ll understand, but there’s some level of comfort in knowing what’s going on, so she nods, and Angella smiles.

Angella is efficient as she checks each of Catra’s injuries, the only conversation between them Angella’s explanation and the occasional question, whether it hurts to breath or talk, if the bandages around Catra’s wrists are too tight, rating pain on a scale of one to ten when Angella checks the bruises on Catra’ neck or the bruised rib Catra didn’t know she had.

The check-up is done within ten minutes, and as Angella wraps her stethoscope back around her neck, she says, “If you need anything, just let someone here know. We’ll try to help any way we can.”

“Can I ask for something?” Catra says with a little bit of hesitation.

“Of course,” Angella responds easily.

Catra takes a deep breath in and lets it out before saying, “I don’t want Adora in here.”

Angella looks surprised, and Catra wonders just how much Angella knows about her and whether Adora has talked about her at all. Angella doesn’t ask any questions though, and if she does know anything, she doesn’t give herself away. She just nods and says, “I’ll make sure she doesn’t come to see you.”

Catra doesn’t say thank you, and Angella gives Catra a look she can’t quite decipher before leaving.

~*~

The week following is lonely and quiet for the most part. Angella comes once a day to check up on her, and the only conversation between them are the questions Angella asks and the explanations she continues to give. Their appointments are short, and Angella doesn’t push despite obvious curiosity, and Catra only gives as much as she has to.

Someone else brings Catra’s food throughout the day, a tall girl with dark skin covered with freckles and flowers constantly woven into her hair. She tries talking to Catra, asking her questions and providing some things here and there about herself, but Catra never reciprocates. She just takes the food offered to her and says nothing, hoping the girl will leave when she realizes Catra’s disinterest, but she never does. She just fills the silence by telling Catra about her garden and her favorite tea and every opinion she has about the meal she brings.

On the sixth day, Angella opens the door as the tall girl is leaving, and the girl takes a moment to have a short, cheerful conversation before Angella ushers her out of the room.

Over the week, Catra has become a bit more comfortable with Angella, but even still, she can’t help her grip tightening into the blanket the closer Angella gets to her bed, and Angella stops about a foot from the edge just like she always does.

“How are you feeling today, Catra?” Angella asks, the first part of their usual routine.

“Fine,” Catra says, and unlike every other time, she actually means it. She’s still sore, but everything feels so much better, and she can’t complain about consistent and filling meals.

“Good,” Angella says, looking down at her clipboard and taking a seat, breaking the routine they’ve built up over the last week, and when she looks up, she says, “I’m going to do a final check-up, but unless I see any issues, we can discharge you today.”

“I can leave?”

Angella nods.

“And you’re not going to stop me?”

“Bright Moon isn’t a prison,” Angella says, setting her clipboard aside so that her sole focus is on Catra, “I would prefer you stay here, at least until everything has healed completely, but if you want to go, we’ll give you what we can before you leave.”

Catra doesn’t believe her. She’s sure that they’re going to find another reason to get her to stay, to lock her within Bright Moon’s walls, and her mind is already building escape plans.

“So,” Angella stands, “Shall we?”

Catra’s mind wanders throughout the exam, already planning and thinking ahead, wondering which direction will get her away from Bright Moon the fastest and the best places to hide out where Bright Moon can’t find her. She’s so distracted that she barely registers the questions Angella asks her, answering with unfocused, one-word answers.

Catra expects Angella to find some reason to make her stay, but Angella doesn’t find anything worrying or out of the ordinary. She just clicks her pen closed before helping Catra out of the bed, waiting for Catra to slip on her boots, and leading her out of medical and into the poorly-lit hallway.

“Perfuma has your things,” Angella explains, directing Catra towards a desk in the corner, “She can walk you out to the gates whenever you’re ready.”

Perfuma waves at Catra from her desk, and Catra’s already sure that she’s going to be trapped in an unavoidable conversation on the way out.

“And Catra?”

Catra turns and sees Angella smiling at her.

“I know you don’t want to be here, and that Bright Moon has never been where you see yourself, but you should talk to her,” Angella says softly, and Catra wonders if this is what motherly advice is meant to sound like, as opposed to the slurred words and harsh jabs she grew up with, “She’s missed you.”

The advice is given like Angella knows what happened, like she knows who Catra is and the chasm that dug itself into her heart over the last three years.

“I miss her too,” Catra finds herself admitting, but she quickly shakes herself out of it, out of emotions that she can’t let herself feel, because if she feels them, she’s not going to leave, and she wants to leave.

No matter how much she wants to talk to Adora, she already knows how the conversation will go, and she’s not sure she’s strong enough to say no this time.

“I can’t.” Catra makes sure her voice holds finality, because she doesn’t want Angella to fight her on it, and Angella doesn’t.

Catra can tell that she doesn’t agree, but she understands, and she doesn’t push the subject further.

“Perfuma,” Angella calls down the hall, “Please bring Catra’s things.”

Catra’s surprised to see her backpack untouched, but even as Perfuma hands her bag back to her, she opens it to make sure she still has everything she came to Bright Moon with.

Everything is there and nothing is out of place.

She does notice that her crowbar is gone, probably lost in the fight, so the first thing she puts on her mental checklist is to find a new weapon.

“Nothing’s missing,” Catra comments, closing her bag back up.

“Of course not,” Angella says like it’s obvious, “These are your things. If you had chosen to stay, we would ask that you hand over any food you may have, but everything else is yours and no one else’s.”

There are a few moments of silence before Angella rips something from her clipboard and hands it to Perfuma. “Get Catra everything on this list and then take her to the gates.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Perfuma says with more energy than Catra can handle.

She runs off to get what’s on the list, and Angella lets out a sigh. Catra looks over at her to see a tiredness she’s never noticed before. It sweeps over Angella in a wave before she squares her shoulders, checks her clipboard, and turns to Catra.

“I need to go, so it’ll just be you and Perfuma.”

Catra rolls her eyes and puts on her backpack. “I can’t wait.”

Angella smiles, and it’s the kind of smile Catra isn’t used to getting. It has a small amount of fondness and exasperation but still kind. It’s the type of smile that a mother might give before softly chastising, and Catra doesn’t let herself get comfortable with it.

“She’s excitable, but she knows what she’s doing,” Angella says, and she reaches a hand out before stopping just short of Catra’s shoulder and pulling her hand back. “Safe travels, Catra.”

Angella leaves before Catra can say anything, but Catra doesn’t even know what she’s supposed to say. She knows, “Thank you,” would be what most people say, and it would cover a lot, but Catra has never been good at saying, “Thank you,” and it never comes off as genuine from her.

Perfuma returns just after Angella left, and she hands a package to Catra. “It’s medicine,” she explains, “Angella included instructions on when to take it and how often.”

Catra nods and puts it into her bag.

“We can stop by the cafeteria if you’d like provisions too,” Perfuma offers.

Catra almost says yes, because food would mean more time before she has to stop, but she doesn’t want to walk through more of Bright Moon than she has to. She’s sure that if she follows Perfuma to the cafeteria, somehow Adora will be there, and she’ll have to confront the fact that she hasn’t allowed Adora anywhere near her, and she’s leaving before Adora gets a chance to convince her to stay.

“I’m good,” Catra says, “Let’s just get to the gate.”

Perfuma leads Catra out of the medical building, and Catra gets her first real view of Bright Moon.

They’re deep in a cave system, but the lights placed overhead mirror the sun, and even though it doesn’t feel completely natural, it’s enough to make the cave feel a little less dark and damp.

Even still, it feels like this place has been untouched. People move around Catra and Perfuma on their way to wherever they’re going, and they’re laughing and joking, talking openly without worrying about being found. It’s like none of them are worried or even aware of what life is like outside of Bright Moon’s gates. They’re more than happy to exist hidden away.

There’s no fear, no worry, no constant looking over shoulders to make sure they haven’t been spotted.

Catra can almost see the appeal of living here now that she’s seen more of the city, but she doesn’t let that change her decision.

They leave the city center, and the happy, talkative people thin out to soldiers stationed along the way to the gate, and when one stops them to ask their purpose there, Catra hears her name shouted from a distance, and she turns to see Adora running towards them.

It's unavoidable. Catra can’t get away, and none of the soldiers are stopping her, so Adora runs right up to her, breathing heavily and obviously angry.

“You were just going to leave?” Adora asks, pushing into Catra’s space.

“Did you really think I was going to stay?”

Adora’s eyes go wide, like she’s surprised and hurt, but it quickly dissolves into anger, and Adora shoves Catra, causing Catra to trip over herself and fall, Adora falling onto her and pining her to the coarse rock floor.

“I can’t believe you,” Adora says, shifting her weight to stop Catra from fighting and grabbing Catra’s wrist when Catra tries to shove her off.

“Just because you found me and brought me here doesn’t mean I’m going to stay,” Catra forces out through gritted teeth, “I didn’t want to blindly follow you here three years ago, and I won’t stay here now.”

“You could be safe here!”

Catra remembers Adora saying the same thing three years ago, her voice so earnest and hopeful, and it’s fuel on the fire of Catra’s anger.

“I don’t care!” Catra yells, finally getting enough leverage to flip them, “I don’t want to live in the place you left me for!”

One of the soldiers pulls Catra off of Adora, another keeping a hand on Adora’s shoulder when she gets up, and Adora looks at Catra like Catra reached into her chest and ripped out her still-beating heart.

Catra knows the look well.

It’s the exact look she had when Adora chose to leave her for Bright Moon three years ago.

“Why can’t you just stay?” Adora asks, her voice pained and everything part of her looking like the only thing keeping her from reaching out to Catra is the soldier’s hand holding her back.

“Because you didn’t.” Catra fights her way out of the soldier’s hold and walks past Perfuma to Bright Moon’s gate.

She doesn’t look back.

She doesn’t falter when Adora calls after her.

She doesn’t stop until she sees the sun.

~*~

They think they’ve found somewhere relatively untouched. The town isn’t much bigger than the one they grew up in, and it’s completely empty.

It’s the perfect place to set up camp for a few days, and Catra and Adora are able to replenish their food supply and just rest.

On one day, they make their way through an old sports supply store, each of them trying to find something new to protect themselves with since they lost their old weapons in a fight a week before.

Adora finds a sword, and even though Catra pokes fun at her, asking how she’s supposed to protect herself with it, Adora doesn’t care. She grabs the sheath and straps it across her back and helps Catra find a new baseball bat to replace her old one.

They move their camp among the different shops, and this night they decide to hide themselves back in the sports shop’s storage, Catra sleeping while Adora stays awake to keep watch.

Everything is quiet until it’s not.

Catra wakes up to Adora shaking her shoulder, and the two pack up as fast as they can before Adora leads them deeper into the building and out the back door.

Sirens fill the night’s quiet, and Catra knows what it means.

The drones have found someone, and now they’re on high alert for other humans in the area.

Every building will be searched, every hole checked, and whoever has already been caught will either be deemed fit enough to become a host or killed.

Just as they’re about to step out onto the street, Adora pushes Catra back against the brick wall of the building, the drone’s green sensor just barely missing them, and they get a good look at the people who got caught.

It’s a girl about their age with fading purple hair and a boy clutching onto her for dear life, and they’re looking around themselves hopeless and afraid.

Catra wants to keep going, wants to get out of the city limits as soon as they can, but she can see Adora’s decision before Adora says anything.

“No,” Catra whispers, grabbing Adora’s arm to keep her in place, “Adora, it’s a suicide mission.”

“I can’t just leave them out there,” Adora doesn’t look back at Catra as she says it.

“They’re not our responsibility.”

“Yes, they are,” Adora insists.

Catra groans, because she knows there’s nothing she can say that’ll convince Adora to leave. She already knows she’s doomed to help, because there’s also no way she’s leaving Adora alone to do something inevitably idiotic, so she’s trapped in whatever dumb plan Adora is going to come up with.

“Fine.” Catra looks over her shoulder and does a quick count of everything they’re up against.

It’s not a big town, so there aren’t that many drones or hosts, and as far as Catra can see, there aren’t any sentries, which puts them at an advantage.

“We’ll need to take out the drones first,” Catra says, grabbing Adora’s wrist and leading her back through the alleys in the direction that the drone was heading, “If we get them from behind and kill them fast, then they won’t have time to alert the hosts that we’re here.”

“I like that advantage,” Adora says, and Catra looks over her shoulder to see a smile.

“At least the drones won’t put up a fight.”

They find another alley that leads out onto the street, and duck out of the way when the drone they are following turns to scan the alley before moving on.

“I’ll get this one,” Adora says and starts down the alley before Catra can say anything, and Catra feels a twinge of annoyance, but she buries it for now.

It doesn’t take long for Catra to hear a soft crash and the sound of electricity sputtering out before Adora comes back to where she’s crouched down.

“One down then.”

Adora nods. “How many hosts did you count?”

“Five. You?”

“Same.”

“There’s probably more around,” Catra thinks for a moment, thinking of the size of the town and how far the drones and hosts would go to find more organic life, “I can’t imagine there’s more than fifteen hosts altogether, which means there will probably be two other drones.”

They head back to where they know the two others are being held, and Catra notices that the alley they stopped at opens up to the town’s center.

The hosts are still holding their position, and the girl and boy look like they’re getting more and more desperate.

“How likely is it that the other hosts and drones will come back before we can take these five out?” Adora asks, her sword already unsheathed and ready.

“I don’t know. How big is your ego today?”

Adora rolls her eyes and bumps their shoulders. “No need to be a jerk.”

Catra smirks and says, “So long as we aim for the chips, I think we can manage it.”

“No point in wasting time then.”

Adora finds a rock to throw that pulls the hosts’ attention away from them, and when the hosts turn, Catra and Adora take them out as quickly as possible.

They work together easily, Catra moving and dodging to bring the hosts’ chips where Adora can smash the handle of the sword into it, and as the last host falls to the ground, the chip flickering and sending spasms through them, Catra grabs the girl’s wrist and Adora grabs the boy, and they run.

They run until they hit the town limits and then keep running until they see a small patch of woods that they can hide in.

Catra releases the girl and takes a deep, relieved breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Adora collapses to the leaf-covered ground, her face red from all of the running.

“You’re getting slow,” Catra comments, her breaths still coming out ragged.

Adora flails her arm in Catra’s direction. “Bite me,” she says, her voice coming out weak, and Catra laughs at her.

Just as Catra’s about to continue making fun of Adora, she hears the girl groan and collapse against a tree, the boy rushing over to make sure she’s okay, but Catra can see that he isn’t much better.

“You’re welcome,” Catra says before she can stop herself, her voice coming out sarcastic.

The girl looks up and glares at her, but Catra just smirks back.

“Thank you,” the boy says, his voice soft and kind, “We don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t done that.”

“You seem to be in good enough shape, so it looks like being a host would’ve been in your future.”

“Catra,” Adora says, her voice like a warning, and Catra hears what Adora isn’t going to say out loud.

Be nice. Behave yourself. Don’t say something like that.

Adora picks herself off the ground and brushes herself off before coming up beside Catra.

“Sorry,” Adora apologizes for Catra, and Catra just scoffs and turns away, “I would say that she’s not usually like this, but she is.”

That little spark of annoyance comes back like a fire, and Catra has a thousand things to say on the tip of her tongue, but Adora continues without even noticing Catra’s quick change in mood.

“I’m Adora, and this is Catra,” she introduces.

“I’m Bow,” the boy says with a smile, “This is Glimmer.”

“Are you two alone out here?” Glimmer asks, finally catching her breath enough to pull herself up, but she’s still leaning pretty heavily on the tree.

“Uh, yeah,” Adora looks between Catra and the other two, confusion pushing her eyebrows together, “It’s just been me and Catra since the first wave.”

“You guys have been on your own for a year?” Bow asks, the disbelief in his voice matching the pity in his eyes.

“It’s not like there are many humans to buddy up with,” Catra grumbles.

“You guys are the first unchipped people we’ve seen for weeks,” Adora adds.

Bow looks like he’s about to say something, but Glimmer cuts him off with a quick, “No.”

“Oh, come on,” Bow says, gesturing between Catra and Adora, “They just saved us.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Glimmer insists, crossing her arms and presenting a strong front that Catra finds almost laughable given her height and the overall softness she gives off.

Catra and Adora look at each other, each of them trying to figure out what the two are even talking about.

“But they’re alone!” Bow’s voice is on the shriller side, and if they hadn’t run so deep into the woods, Catra would’ve been quick to quiet him down before he shows the drones and hosts who are probably still looking for them exactly where they’re hiding.

“So?”

Bow gives Glimmer some fairly impressive puppy eyes, and Catra expects Glimmer to break easily, but Glimmer doesn’t falter.

“Angella would tell us to offer them a place,” Bow says quickly, and Catra isn’t sure what part of that sentence finally broke Glimmer, but Glimmer lets out a loud groan and covers her face.

“That’s low.”

“I wouldn’t have had to say it if you would’ve just let me ask.”

“Excuse me,” Catra cuts in, finally tired of listening to their back and forth about whatever it is they’re talking about, “What the fuck is going on?”

“Glimmer and I are from a community called Bright Moon,” Bow gets out before Glimmer can stop him, “It’s in a nearby cave system, and we’re completely hidden away from the drones, sentries, and hosts.”

“If you guys have that community, what are you doing out here?” Adora asks, and Catra’s curious to know the answer too.

Bow turns to Glimmer. “Yeah, why are we outside the gates?” For once, Catra sees a little bit of annoyance cross Bow’s features, and Glimmer falters a bit under his look.

“It’s not important,” Glimmer says quickly, but Catra knows that it’s a lie.

No one in their right mind would risk capture when they have somewhere perfectly safe to stay.

Despite the lie, Catra doesn’t force Glimmer into saying whatever reason she is trying to hide. Instead, she says, “I’m assuming you want us to help you get back, seeing as you don’t seem to have any weapons or supplies.”

“Please,” Bow says with relief clear in his voice, “And when we get back to Bright Moon, you two can join us there.”

“No,” Catra is quick to say.

“Catra—” Adora turns on her, but Catra doesn’t let her continue.

“We don’t need your charity,” Catra hisses out.

Adora grabs her arm, and after saying a quick, “Give us a sec,” she pulls Catra deeper into the woods, away from Bow and Glimmer and offers of safety.

Catra pulls her arm out of Adora’s grip and shoves her away, and Adora has to catch herself on a tree to stop from slamming into it.

“They just want us to help them back to their community, Catra,” Adora says, annoyance seeping into her words, and Catra lets every bit of it fuel her anger.

“No, they don’t,” Catra counters, “You heard them. They want us to join their community too.”

“Would that really be that awful?”

“Yes!” Catra insists, “Adora, we don’t know anything about them or what they want from us. How are you so willing to trust them?”

“You’re right,” Adora says, and Catra is taken back, because she wasn’t expecting Adora to actually listen to her, “We don’t know anything about them or where they’re from, but we do know that they were helpless and now they want help getting back, so let’s help them back, okay?”

“That’s it?” Catra is hesitant, because it’s usually harder to get Adora to agree with her.

“That’s it,” Adora agrees, “As far as we know, they don’t have any weapons and are alone, so we have nothing to fear in helping them back.”

“Unless we get ambushed by whoever is in charge of their community,” Catra says, her voice coming out sharp despite the fact that her anger and annoyance is starting to fade.

“Please,” Adora scoffs, “We’ve lasted this long. I’m not afraid of some people hiding out in a cave.”

Adora smirks, and Catra mirrors it.

“If we get cornered, I grab the girl, you grab the boy?” Catra jokes, crossing her arms.

“I thought it would just be grab whichever is closest,” Adora says, “Although now that I think about it, you might be too short to effectively take Bow hostage.”

Catra glares. “I’m going to smother you in your sleep.”

Adora smiles, wide and cocky. “No, you won’t.”

“I am not that much shorter than you,” Catra walks past Adora, clipping Adora’s shoulder with her own, “And I don’t need you to survive.”

“Yes, I know. You’re totally fine all on your own.”

Adora follows her, and Catra lets her catch up before putting a foot out to trip Adora, and as Adora falls to the leaves and dirt, she grabs onto Catra’s wrist and brings her down too. Catra fights, but Adora has always been stronger, and she’s pinned to the ground, a branch poking uncomfortably into her back.

Catra pushes the heel of her hand into Adora’s cheek and says, “Get off of me, you dumb jock!”

“What?” Adora pulls Catra’s hair, “Can’t finish what you started?”

They hear rustling, and Catra looks up to see the boy and girl looking down on them, the girl looking unimpressed and the boy looking amused.

“Glad to know you’re not dead,” the girl says, “Just trying to kill each other, apparently.”

Adora gets off of Catra and stands before offering a hand that Catra ignores.

“I wouldn’t be so rude to the people who have decided to help you back,” Catra says dryly, brushing leaves and dirt from her clothes.

“Really?” Bow asks excitedly, looking between Catra and Adora, and Adora nods with a smile.

“Thank you!” Bow pulls Glimmer and Adora into a hug, and he would’ve pulled Catra in too, but she ducks at the last moment, his arm barely skimming over her head.

They decide to stay in this patch of woods for the night, partly because they’re all tired after running from the city, but they also want to be sure that the hosts and drones in the town have lost their trail.

Catra takes first watch, and she holds her bat close, her eyes flicking from the trees to the strangers asleep against each other and down to where Adora is sprawled out beside her.

Even though Adora convinced her to help the others back to their community, Catra still doesn’t trust them, and she watches them as much as the trees until it’s time for her to wake Adora up, and even then she pushes her back against Adora’s leg to sleep, every noise and movement waking her up throughout the night.

Catra stays vigilant as they start their journey. They use the map that Adora keeps on her to plan the trip, and as Bow and Glimmer start to recognize landmarks as they get closer to Bright Moon, their excitement gets harder to mask. They start telling Catra and Adora stories about their community, and even though Catra isn’t interested, Adora hangs onto their every word and asks questions to hear more.

Bright Moon sounds perfect, but that just makes Catra more suspicious than before. No place that perfect can exist now, so hidden away that they can have working technology but still stay hidden from the hosts and the drones. Catra’s sure that there’s something sketchy going on, and she’s sure Adora sees it too.

She has to. There’s no way Adora could be so sucked in so quickly.

When they see the gates that close the cave from the rest of the world, Bow pulls Glimmer into an excited hug. Soldiers meet them outside the gates, their guns raised, but when they recognize Bow and Glimmer, they put them away, but they watch Catra and Adora closely.

One of them makes a comment that Glimmer’s mother wants to see her as soon as possible, and Bow and Glimmer are hurried inside.

They raise their guns again when Adora moves to follow them, but Bow explains. He tells the soldier that Catra and Adora saved them, that they helped them get back to Bright Moon, and when the soldier lowers his gun, Bow says, “You should come in and see the place. We’ll give you a meal and a place to sleep for the night.”

Adora says yes before Catra can protest, and even though Catra glares at her, she grabs Catra in a headlock and says, “It’s free food and a bed for the night. I’m not saying no.”

They’re not allowed too far into Bright Moon. Bow explains that everyone who comes in has to leave weapons and supplies, and for those who aren’t staying indefinitely, there are beds set up right outside of the barracks surrounding the gate.

Catra watches the soldiers closely while Bow talks, her eyes following machine guns and her senses tuned into the hard fall of combat boots.

Everything feels off. The soldiers, how they were let in so easily just because Bow and Glimmer vouched for them, the gate that traps them all in.

She doesn’t feel right here, and she’s sure Adora feels it too. She knows Adora has to be having the same thoughts, the same wariness.

Bow brings them dinner in a tent that’s been deemed theirs, and Glimmer comes shortly after, complaining about her mother and the punishment she received for leaving Bright Moon.

Catra barely eats even though she’s starving, and she doesn’t join in the conversation even though Adora does.

She’s just being nice, Catra thinks, watching Adora laugh at something Bow says, She doesn’t want them to know we’re suspicious of them.

Finally, Bow and Glimmer leave, and Adora and Catra are left alone for the first time since they pulled Bow and Glimmer out of that town.

It’s silent at first, and unlike their usual comfortable silences, this one feels heavy, like both of them have something to say but neither of them knows how to say it.

Catra unrolls her sleeping bag and turns, quickly saying, “I don’t like it here,” at the same time Adora says, “We should stay.”

It takes a moment for Adora’s word to register in Catra’s mind, but when they finally click, she can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“What?” Catra asks, hoping that she just misheard.

“I think we should stay here,” Adora says.

“Are you insane?”

Adora laughs, but Catra isn’t joking.

“Come on, Catra,” Adora says lightly, “You heard Bow and Glimmer. It’s safe here.”

“I don’t trust it,” Catra says, “They talked about this place like it’s some safe haven when everything outside is hell, and it can’t be. There has to be something wrong with this place.”

“Not everything has to be too good to be true,” Adora takes a step towards Catra, and Catra takes a step back, “Maybe Bright Moon is exactly what it says it is.”

“And maybe you’re just being dumb.”

Adora sighs. “Catra—”

“I thought you felt it too,” Catra cuts her off, “I thought you saw past whatever sparkles and rainbows they were presenting Bright Moon as.”

“I’m just—” Adora doesn’t finish her thought.

“Just what?”

“Tired, Catra,” Adora says softly, “I’m tired. We’ve been running since we escaped the high school, and I just don’t want to run anymore. Aren’t you tired of running?”

Catra is. She’s so tired of running and hiding and wondering if she’s going to get captured, but that’s just what life is now. Life is constant fear and watching her back, but at least this kind of fear is constant. It’s understandable.

It’s so much different than the fear and suspicion she felt every day in that house with Mrs. Weaver.

“I don’t want to stay here,” Catra insists instead of answering Adora’s question.

“We could be safe here in Bright Moon, Catra,” Adora grabs Catra hand and squeezes, and Catra thinks that it isn’t as comforting as it usually is, “We wouldn’t have to be constantly on the run anymore.”

“Adora, come on,” Catra’s sure that she can get through to Adora if she just reminds Adora of their promise, “We don’t need them to be safe. We have each other.”

“We would still have each other here.”

Catra pulls her hand from Adora’s. “You’re really going to stay?”

She tries not to think about how small her voice is, how desperate she is to hear Adora tell her that she was just kidding before, that of course she isn’t going to stay in Bright Moon.

Adora nods, and Catra feels her heart splinter.

“I’m staying, Catra,” Adora says, the splinters in Catra’s heart cracking and breaking, “And you could stay too.”

“No.”

As Adora tries to come towards her, Catra shoves her away, and Adora loses her footing and trips over her sleeping bag, falling onto it with a soft groan.

“Catra—” Adora’s voice is sad, and Catra can’t look at her.

Instead, she grabs her backpack and runs, the last thing she hears is Adora shouting her name as she pushes past soldiers and leaves Bright Moon’s gates.

~*~

The soldier holding her back releases her, and Adora sinks to the ground.

Catra’s gone, having disappeared into the only natural light that spills into the cave’s opening. She didn’t even look back as she passed through the gate.

Adora hear talking around her, but she can’t focus. Everything is too loud and far too quiet, and her mind keeps replaying Catra leaving over and over and over again, her silhouette black against the sun outside.

Arms fall around her shoulders in something like comfort, and she looks up to see Bow with a sad smile, and tears burn the back of Adora’s eyes.

Everything about this opens old wounds that Adora sewed shut years ago. She feels the same heartbreak, the same anger, the same sadness. Her mind is reeling with a million different ways to get Catra to stay, and a part of her is whispering Go after her, but she knows she can’t.

Catra made her choice. Catra left again.

Adora chose Bright Moon.

No matter what Adora says or does, Catra will never stay.

Glimmer sits beside her, her head tilting to lean against Adora’s shoulder, and Adora chooses comfort, relaxing against Bow and resting her head on Glimmer’s.

They don’t speak.

They don’t need to.

The guards watch them until a command has them scurrying back to their posts, and Angella stands a few feet from the group, watching Glimmer and Bow try to mend some of the pieces, but Angella knows that there’s only so much they can do.

Tears start to spill over, and Adora doesn’t even bother to wipe them away before burying her head in her knees and letting out a sob.

It hurts. The breath shakily entering her lungs feels almost bruising, and the sobs scratching through her throat leave it ripped up, but somehow, it hurts less than everything else.

Every thought tells her that she should’ve done more to get Catra to stay.

That she should’ve done more three years ago.

They flood her and spill over onto the dust and dirt and rocks of Bright Moon’s cave.

Finally, when the sobs quiet down to whimpers and the thoughts go from screams to whispers, Adora lets herself be pulled from the ground, and when she looks up, she expects it to be Bow or Glimmer standing in front of her, but it’s Angella.

“You let her go,” Adora says, her voice cracked and soft.

“It’s what she wanted,” Angella replies, and even though she maintains her stance as leader, she breaks it for a moment to rub tears from Adora’s cheeks.

“Why did she leave again?”

Adora doesn’t mean to ask it. She means for it to remain a thought, but emotional exhaustion pushes it from her head to her voice, and she asks it without meaning to.

Angella smiles, and it’s soft and sad around the edges. “I don’t think she wanted to,” Angella whispers, and despite wanting to push the stray strands of hair back behind Adora’s ear, she just rests a hand on Adora’s shoulder again.

Adora doesn’t understand Angella’s words. She doesn’t get how Catra could want to stay and still go.

“Bow, Glimmer,” Angella says over Adora’s head, “Get Adora back to her room?”

Then her best friends are at her side, Bow holding her close and Glimmer grabbing her hand, and they guide her away from the cave opening and the ghost of Catra leaving and the confusion Angella’s words caused.

~*~

It’s been three days stuck in the high school, three days with no information and nothing from outside.

Hours after the sentries took their places, the athletes and theater kids snuck back to the locker and dressing rooms to change out of costumes and uniforms and grab their phones in the hopes that they might’ve missed texts or calls from parents or siblings.

There was no connection. No texts.

Nothing.

They still have electricity and running water, but the televisions just keep repeating, “Be calm. Do not leave,” and the few radios they could find just played static.

In the middle of the night, as all of the other students try sleeping on whatever soft things they found when looking through the classrooms, Catra stays awake, sitting close to Adora with her back to a wall.

Down the hallway, she can see the doors that lead out to one of the courtyards and it is completely covered.

A sentry is stationed on each door, never moving.

She figures they don’t have to, since they don’t exactly look human. They don’t move; they don’t even twitch.

“Hey.” Catra feels a hand wrap around her wrist, and she’s so focused on watching the sentries that she pulls away, but Adora holds on, her grip warm.

“You should sleep,” Adora says as she sits up.

“I don’t understand how you and all of these other idiots can,” Catra whispers, looking around at all of the other high schoolers asleep around them, the teachers and coaches looking like they fell asleep while keeping watch.

“You haven’t slept since this started, Catra,” Adora tries reasoning, and she tugs at Catra gently.

Catra lets herself be tugged, lets Adora pull her so that Catra’s leaning into her, but she doesn’t stop watching the sentries.

Adora follows Catra’s line of sight. “They still haven’t moved?”

Catra nods her head no.

“I wonder why they’re here,” Adora thinks out loud.

“Nothing good,” Catra whispers, feeling herself start to slump against Adora, her eyes slipping closed.

Until she sees one of them move.

She pulls away from Adora as the sentries turn to one another, and Catra finally gets a better look at them.

They’re more robotic than anything, one of their arms ending in some sort of gun that looks like it came right out of one of Rogelio’s Sci-Fi novels.

“We need to—” Adora says, but she’s cut off as the sentries turn in unison and begin firing.

Catra tackles Adora, covering Adora’s body with her own and using the force to push them back and out of the way of green blasts.

“We need to get out of here!” Catra looks up and immediately takes cover again as a green blast soars right over her head and explodes into the wall, covering them in dust.

“We can’t leave everyone else behind!”

Catra wants to argue, wants to tell Adora that it’s useless, but there’s no time. One second of arguing could get them dead.

“Fine,” Catra pulls herself up and drags Adora up too, “You take that side, I’ve got this one.”

Just as Catra says it, a few sentries appear in the cafeteria, their blasters pointed at the students. Catra looks behind her to see the two sentries that were guarding the courtyard coming up behind her and Adora, and she shoves Adora down a hallway she knows leads further into the school and away from any doors.

“Catra—” Adora tries to turn around, but Catra catches her.

“We’re outnumbered,” Catra says simply, “It’s a useless fight that’s just going to get us killed.”

“We can’t just leave them to die.”

The sentries that were behind them haven’t turned down the hallway yet, and Catra is quick to shove Adora into one of the classrooms, following quickly and closing the door before anyone or anything could see where they went.

The TV in the room changes messages. The robotic voice repeating, “Be calm. Do not leave,” stops, and there’s just a red screen with the word, “Submit,” across it.

A green beam shines through the small window in the door, and Catra pushes Adora into the corner of the room, just barely making it out of the beam’s way in time.

It goes away and comes back before going away completely, and Catra waits a moment before saying, “We’re no good to anyone if we’re with that group. There’s no way they’re going to escape that ambush.”

“So how do we help them?”

We don’t, Catra thinks, standing up and going to the door to try and see what’s happening.

As far as she can tell, the sentries are just keeping everyone left in the school held in the cafeteria. They have formed a circle around them, each of them with a blaster pointed at every human, and she notices something new.

Something flies overhead, some kind of drone, and it seems to be scanning everything in the school, almost like it is logging the information.

Adora comes up behind Catra and watches everything that’s happening too.

“They’re not doing anything,” Adora whispers, her eyes following the drones.

“It’s almost like they’re taking stock,” Catra remarks, “The sentries too. It’s like they’re logging everything that’s in the school.”

“What do you think they want?”

One of the sentries steps forward, grabbing a girl that Catra recognizes as one of Adora’s teammates, and it lifts her up, holding her even as the girl fights back. It scans her from the top of her head down to her feet and then places her back down, and Catra’s impressed when she tries making a run for it, but the sentries are faster. One of them, a different one than the one that scanned her, steps into her path, and she barely catches herself before running right into it.

The sentry that scanned her says something, but it’s some sort of language that Catra doesn’t know, and she’s guessing that it’s probably not from this planet.

Then a sentry grabs the girl and takes her from the cafeteria, the others moving to stop the members of the soccer team that try to get up and grab their teammate, and Catra already has a hand on Adora’s wrist to stop her from doing anything idiotic, like trying to save her.

“Where do you think they’re taking her?” Adora asks, watching as they start the process again with someone from Catra’s team.

“Nowhere good.” Catra pulls her attention from whatever is happening in the cafeteria and looks down the hallway, noticing that it’s empty for now. “We should get moving while they’re distracted.”

Catra turns to see Adora with her arms crossed and a look that Catra knows means she’s ready to disagree.

“There’s nothing we can do for them,” Catra argues before Adora can say anything, “They are caught and trapped, and we’re two people with absolutely nothing to take down at least twenty of those sentries. Trying to save them is going to get us killed.”

“I can’t just leave knowing that there are people here, Catra.”

“You’re going to have to,” Catra looks back to the cafeteria, “We need to get out of here before they start checking the classrooms.”

Adora sits there and thinks it over, and every second that it takes for her to come to a decision puts Catra on edge. She keeps looking through the window, making sure that the sentries haven’t started looking for anyone else that may be deeper in the school.

Finally, Catra breaks.

“Goddammit, Adora,” Catra growls, grabbing Adora’s wrist and cracking the door open.

Adora doesn’t say anything as Catra pulls her into the hallway. She knows this will be a conversation they have if they make it out of the school, but they are running out of time.

The sentries are distracted with everyone and the drones are still flying overhead, so Catra pulls Adora in the opposite direction, their footsteps quiet as they run. Catra isn’t sure if they are attracted to or sensitive to sound, but she figures they’re better safe than sorry.

She stops them at every corner to look around before making a turn, taking the hallways she knows leads through the band hallway and out a set of doors where the marching band packs their equipment for competitions.

They stop to look down the hallway that ends in a set of double doors that leads out to a parking lot, and Catra expects for there to be sentries stationed there, but it’s empty.

“This feels like a trap,” Catra whispers.

“It’s more likely that every sentry sent to the high school are in the cafeteria,” Adora reasons, turning to watch their backs.

“You think they don’t have the numbers to have both?”

“Maybe not yet,” Adora says, “You don’t send everyone on the first wave, right?”

Catra nods and starts walking towards the doors, but Adora catches her wrist.

“What’re you doing?” Adora hisses, looking around them frantically.

“There’s only one way to know,” Catra yanks her wrist from Adora’s grip, “If there’s no one there, we’re fine. If there is and we can’t see them, then there’s no way we’re making it out of the school anyway. Might as well try.”

“It’s dumb.”

“So are you, but I still keep you around.”

“Really, Catra?”

Catra just smirks.

“Fine.” Adora starts walking towards the doors, and Catra’s quick on her heels.

Outside seems normal, but Catra can see the shadow that the ship casts down over the school, and as she looks off into the distance, there are a few more ships covering different parts of the town.

There aren’t any sentries around, though, and the sky is free of any drones as far as they can tell.

“We should stick close to the building,” Adora suggests, “Just in case we need to rush inside to take cover.”

“Agreed.”

They choose a direction at random, hoping that it is the right way, and they don’t run into anything until they reach the front doors of the school.

Catra sees it first, grabbing onto Adora to stop her from going forward, and they watch as one of the theater kids is dragged out of the school. He’s kicking and trying to get out of the sentry’s hold, but it’s useless.

The sentry drags him aboard a vehicle that doesn’t look like anything they have on Earth, and as the back doors open, Catra sees every member of the soccer and track team loaded inside, each of them looking terrified.

The sentry closes the door behind the theater kid and the vehicle drives away.

Catra expects the sentry to go back inside, but it’s followed by all of the other sentries and drones from the school, and Catra and Adora take cover where their beams can’t reach them, but they don’t have to. The sentries and drones leave without looking back.

Adora makes a break for the door and runs back in before Catra can stop her, and Catra follows her all the way back to the cafeteria.

She expects to find it empty, but it’s not. Everyone that wasn’t loaded into the transport vehicles lies dead on the floor, smoke rising from where the sentries shot them.

Adora falls to her knees, her eyes wide in disbelief, and Catra looks away, but she can’t unsee what happened.

“We couldn’t save them, Adora,” Catra says gently.

“We could’ve tried,” Adora whispers, and Catra sees a few tears start to fall down Adora’s cheeks.

“If we did, we’d be right here with them,” Catra tries to comfort Adora, but it’s never been something she’s good at.

Adora doesn’t say anything, and Catra drops down in front of her.

“Hey,” Catra’s voice is soft, “We need to get going. I know they just left, but we don’t know if they plan to come back.”

She doesn’t get a response from Adora, so she pulls Adora to her feet, slinging one of Adora’s arms around her shoulder so that she can lead Adora out of the school.

“Catra?” Adora’s voice is small and broken.

“Yeah?”

“What do you think they’re doing with all of the people that they took?”

“I don’t know,” Catra thinks of everyone shoved into the transport, “But I doubt we want to find out.”

~*~

Catra’s first mistake is assuming that the town she got cornered in is empty. She’s studied the sentries’ and drones’ patterns for three years now, and whenever they clear a town, they don’t come back until weeks or months later when they think other humans might be inhabiting it.

Catra’s second mistake is being distracted and out in the open. Her thoughts are filled with the hurt look on Adora’s face and the hole that leaving dug out in her heart, and she doesn’t notice a group of sentries hidden in an alley until it’s too late.

The sirens go off, and Catra is surrounded before she can run, their sensors scanning her from head to toe.

One of the sentries says something in their alien language, and then two hosts grab Catra.

She fights. She jabs and kicks and is able to get away for just a second, but a sentry steps forward and aims a blaster at her head.

“Do it then,” Catra taunts, watching as the other sentries lift their blasters.

It doesn’t shoot.

“Kill me!” Catra shouts, “I’ve already gotten away once, so just do it!”

The sentry moves, and Catra thinks she might’ve convinced it to kill her, but the arm comes down hard, and everything blacks out before she’s even hit the ground.

16 notes · View notes

abbysfrenchbraid · 4 years

Note

Hiya! Absolutely love your work! This feels super vague but could I request a short fic/headcanons of Abby giving her gf a piggyback please? The mental image makes me 🥺💕

what a cute idea, I got your message at like 10pm last night and just immediately started writing! Here you go, a short 1.5k fluff about the reader being clumsy at the WLF stadium and Abby coming to her rescue 💘

Warnings: light swearing, mention of violence (as always, message me for specific triggers and I’ll let you know if it’s safe to read)

Requests are open

A blessing in disguise

You could hear the hum of voices and the clatter of cutlery on plates from the hallway as you walked up to the swinging doors of the cafeteria. A look through the bull’s eye told you that the room was packed. No one would voluntarily miss baked potatoes with sour cream and steak, a real gourmet meal compared to the usual bean and sausage stews.

Now you just had to make your way over to your friends without becoming the laughing stock of the base. So far only a few people knew of your idiocy and the damage it had done to your ankle, but if Owen and Jordan noticed your limp before you reached the table, the next days would be made even more painful by everyone’s cruel jokes.

With a determined huff, you pushed against the door and clenched your teeth as you waved at some colleagues and hurried over to the loudest room in the table. Luckily for you, Owen and Jordan were having an intense discussion about the usage of melee weapons when fighting infected while Nora loudly commented on their arguments. Mel and Abby sat facing each other and grinned into their plates, obviously glad not to be included but entertained nonetheless. When Abby looked up and raised an eyebrow at your strange walking you just shook your head slightly and sat down next to her, finally able to relax your jaw.

“Slipped. Don’t worry about it.” Abby stared at you for a second, then she shrugged and continued to dig into her potatoes.

Owen had finally noticed your presence and instantly tried to pull you on his side.

“Oh Y/N, great that you’re here. Wouldn’t you agree that a crowbar works much better for killing clickers than, say, a baseball bat? It’s lighter and slimmer and has that sharp end that just goes through heads like butter.”

You grimaced at him while Jordan and Nora started simultaneously arguing with him again and effectively banned you from the conversation before you could actually enter it.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Mel had perfected that worried-mom look ever since she had given birth to her beautiful daughter and you immediately felt guilty.

“No - I mean yes, I’m gonna get myself a plate in a minute. Truth is,” you made sure the others were still caught up in their argument, “I took a bad fall today and my ankle hurts like a bitch. I don’t want to limp around in front of the whole cafeteria and become the center of all the jokes for a week, the pain is bad enough as is.”

Now Mel and Abby both looked at you with that face, that “you are our poor baby child and we can never let you out into the wild alone” expression that made you clench your hands into fists in your lap and stare at the tabletop in embarrassment.

“Do you think it’s serious, Y/N? You wanna come to medical after lunch so I can take a look at it?”

“Yeah, Y/N, how did this happen? Are you sure you’re okay?” Abby asked.

You looked up defiantly and rose to your feet. “I’m not a child, I can take care of myself, thanks. Now if you’d excuse me, I’m getting some food before I eat Owen alive.”

Abby grabbed your wrist before you could step over the bench, getting up herself and putting an arm around your shoulders.

“I got it, babe. We’re only worried about you. Just sit down, I’ll be right back.”

Mel patted your hand and offered you some of her water after you sat down again. Both of you watched Abby go up right to the front of the food line and get a steaming hot plate for you. This was unusual for her, she always hated when people took advantage of their rank in order to get special treatment. She was back with a few long strides and slid the plate in front of you.

“For the lovely lady. If only she would tell us why she seems so pained on this beautiful day?”

You shoved an elbow into her ribs but she only laughed and put a hand on your thigh, scooting closer and looking genuinely concerned now. It was apparent you had no other choice but to give in.

“Fine. Leah asked me to help her move some stuff into her new room with Jordan. I was walking up the stairs carrying some boxes when I stumbled. One of the boxes dropped and polaroids spilled everywhere, mind you this is Leah we’re talking about.” Your two listeners exchanged a knowing look and Mel had to fight down a laugh. You ignored her. “Well, I panicked because I could hear people coming down the stairs and I didn’t want them to see, you know, Leah’s tits all over the floor, so I tried to collect them as fast as possible and accidentally slipped on one of the photos.”

Mel burst out laughing and you could see it took everything in Abby to not do the same. She just intensified her grip on your thigh and pressed her lips together, her chest convulsing from silent laughter. You finished your story with an irritated sigh. “So there I was, lying at the bottom of the stairs in the midst of at least 20 nude photos, trying not to scream because my ankle and hip were on fire just as this group of younger recruits came around the corner. They were nice enough to help me up and collect the pictures without a word but for all I know they’ve already told their team and by tomorrow everyone will know about me swimming in Leah’s tits.”

You jammed your fork into the steak on your plate and began to hack away at it, eating as quickly as possible to escape this place and vanish from earth for the next year. Mel had calmed down and Abby finally released your thigh, placing her hand on the small of your back instead. Through your anger at yourself and embarrassment in front of the two other women you felt a rush of calm, warm energy at the blonde’s touch and took a deep breath.

Mel swung her legs over the bench and grabbed her tray. “I gotta head back to medical. Will you come see me when you’re done here?”

“I’ll bring her,” Abby said before you could answer. She smiled at you. “Why walk when you have me to carry you?”

You rolled your eyes at her and went on eating while listening to the weapon experts at the table attacking each other. Nora had left with Mel so it was only the two men now, pointlessly arguing over the same thing over and over again until a fellow soldier at a different table yelled at them to shut up and just find out in training the next time. They had nothing to shoot back at that so they also got up to leave for training and said their goodbyes.

“Nice talking to you ladies, thanks for your input.”

“Bite me, Owen,” you and Abby replied with one voice as they walked away, seemingly in a great mood after making the entire cafeteria listen to their bickering.

When you had finished your plate, Abby brought it to the return window and came back to you with a spring in her step.

“Well then, princess.” She helped you up and turned around, beckoning for you to jump on her back and you happily obliged, letting out an involuntary squeal as the strong soldier beneath you lightly jumped to adjust your position and grabbed your legs. You wrapped your arms around her and pressed your head to the side of hers, ignoring the puzzled looks around you.

Her smell was wonderful, pine and lavender creeping into your lungs and from there into every corner of your body, making you feel warm and at home. You could feel the muscles move underneath you, your weight seemingly nothing to the strong body carrying it. Abby kicked the swing doors open nonchalantly and carried you up the stairs and all the way to the medical tract without breaking a sweat.

She let you down gently at the door to Mel’s office. “I just need to grab some things from my room, I’ll pick you up here in 10 minutes. I don’t have any more tasks today so we can hang out at yours, you could read me some of the new stuff you wrote?”

This woman. You wrapped your arms around her again, this time from the front, and kissed her cheek. “You’re the best, Abby. Thank you so much.” She didn’t let go until you did, then she tapped her forehead in a playful salute and hurried off to her room.

You knocked at the door and Mel called you in, letting you lean on her to get to the camp bed. “All right, let’s take a look at this. It doesn’t look too bad, I think you got lucky.”

Her words made you think of the beautiful blonde wolf that would be keeping you company all afternoon. Yes, you really did get lucky. Maybe this injury wasn’t that bad after all.

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #the last of us 2 #abby simp society #abby tlou #abby anderson fic #tlou2

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 108

And we are somewhat caught up! My queue has run out at least, and I’m astoundingly glad it has, because now I get to thank a bunch of people who have just detonated my inbox with love, and kept me going.

Before I get into the gratitude: If, at any point, a comment a character makes does not make sense, please let me know. Send an ask, even on anon, because I am well aware that everything in my brain does not get a chance to make it in the story (example: Charly’s triangle comment here, and the fact that Noah’s dialogue in the beginning has an actual translation…)

First, shoutouts to @charlylimph-blog, @baelpenrose, and @quantumizedinsanity for the characters in this chapter and for being very, VERY dear friends to me. A global pandemic and nationwide protests, along with a job change and a major move, have done nothing to hurt friendships that are already cross-country from each other.

Annnnd to everyone who has been blowing up my notes with likes and reblogs: @dierotenixe(hang in there! i PROMISE!), @iamverypotato,@itscryptifssil, @steadynightninja, @thepalemarcher, @feral-possums-in-the-bog, @26fancyraptors(MISSED YOU!), @werewolf2578 (we don’t talk enough, how are you!?), @experimentalspades, @odd-dream-worlds, @duchess-katala03, @pineapplewitchboi, @dark-choclat-cupcake, @littleshydragon, and all the others.

I held my breath, bracing for what I knew was coming. Nothing came after several minutes, to my surprise. I slowly lifted my head and opened my eyes, focusing on drawing deep, even breaths. Maybe he got bored and wandered off. Maybe he had mercy on me….

Yeah. And maybe Grey is making genetically modified fish that fly.

Slowly, carefully, I grabbed my fork and lifted a bite of pie to my mouth. A glance at Charly showed a serious expression, nothing given away. Damnit. I knew she could see Arthur behind me, I was hoping for a telltale giggle, or a warning glance, something. Right when a traitorous voice of reason spoke up belatedly to point out that Charly was never serious…

“You really will adopt anyone, won’t you?” Arthur asked as he came around to take the chair Jokul had just vacated.

Fuuuuuck…. Busted. “I didn’t adopt him!” I tried to argue. “I actually made a very concerted effort to avoid that!”

Unceremoniously, he snagged Charly’s pot pie, only to have his hand held at fork-point until he let go. Without even acknowledging the lunch-standoff, he leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “You tried to ‘avoid’ it by foisting him off on Zach Khan, your… nephew, thing, and his girlfriend. Still adoption-adjacent.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to interact with him.”

“Uh huh. And how will you explain to poor Hannah that dear Ivan’s partner isn’t invited to Insert Winter Holiday dinner, hmmm?”

“I hate you.”

“Lies and deceit,” he rebutted calmly. “You adopted me first. Before anyyyyone on this ship. I daresay you’re quite fond of me.”

I scowled at him, shoving my remaining lunch in his direction. “Here, before you start poaching this direction.”

An eyebrow arched in the general direction of my fish pie. “That looks suspiciously like dairy. You wound me.” Grabbing my fork, he poked at the lumps of meat. “I would have thought you would be at least a little subtle in any assassination attempts. Have I taught you nothing?”

“Of course you taught me something,” I cooed, jokingly, while I patted his arm. “The fastest way to a man’s heart is six inches of steel through the ribs, slight upward angle. Cyanide smells like bitter almonds, so always use shortbread cookies to administer it. Three pounds of pressure will tear off a human ear, and even a three year old can bite through fingers,” I recited. “Also, the pie is dairy-free, surprisingly. The ‘cream’ is silken tofu and aquafaba, turns out.”

Charly was choking with laughter, while Arthur finally smiled at me. “See, I told you that you love me,” he gloated before scooping up a scallop and some crust. As soon as he started chewing, his expression changed from one of amusement to something strikingly similar to Mac when I flick water in his face.

“Scallops,” I explained. “I had the same reaction.”

“Heathens,” he managed around the mouthful. After he swallowed it, he gave the dish a considering look. “Not bad per se, but… There is no fish in this fish pie. What is aquafaba?”

“Chicpea juice. Usually it’s used as an egg substitute. I guess they used it for consistency here.”

Charly leaned forward, narrowly avoiding landing an elbow in her lunch. “And how can you tell that’s what’s in there?”

Glancing over at his student, Arthur shrugged. “She has a point. This,” he poked at the sauce, “looks like heavy cream.”

“Tastes kind of nutty, though,” I explained. “Anyway, enough about food. What brings you down here?”

“Galactic Core Curriculum,” he explained. “That’s the excuse anyway. Alistair - Cthulu damn his soul - told me you were eating lunch here after fifteen minutes of questioning. Tyche told me Charly was with you, so I figured lunch with you, lunch with one of my favorite students, plus I can kill two errands with one meal.” Charly stared at him like he had lost his mind, but he ignored her. “When I arrived - lo! What to my wondering eyes should appear, than a certain former cult leader harassing said friend and student! What person could resist such a temptation.” Deflating dramatically, he scowled at me. “Imagine my delight to hear you giving him relationship advice,” he intoned flatly.

“I got him to go away,” I pointed out.

“Before I managed even one strike in a highly one-sided battle of wits.“

“Mr. Farro,” Charly cut off, glaring for all she was worth. “Jokull came in peace, he leaves in peace.”

“Oh, he would have left in pieces. His ego anyway.”

“Fucking triangles, I swear,” Charly muttered, attacking her lunch with renewed violence.

“Anyway,” I forged ahead. “Jokul was here for fifteen, twenty minutes. You had your chance.”

He glanced away with a cough. “I… may have been resisting the urge to vomit.”

“Arthur.”

“Relationship advice is… not in my skillset,” he admitted. “Tell you your partner is abusive? Can spot a mile a way. Great for getting people out of bad relationships, with concierge crowbar service if necessary. Not great for saving them.”

“Crowbar? Really?”

“You know, for prying people out of bad situations?” He genuinely looked confused, so I left that one alone.

“For what it’s worth, Jokull wanted to talk to you about what he’s going through right now,” Charly added.

“Why in any galaxy…”

I had to laugh at that one. “Everyone treats him poorly,” I shrugged before giving Arthur a pointed look. “He’s having a rough time right now, feels like he has no one to talk to except Ivan, and thought you would have some insight into that kind of thing.”

“What part of this,” he gestured to himself with a fork, “implies anything remotely close to wanting people to like me and therefore actually knowing how to accomplish that.”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” I muttered.

Giving me a hard, thoughtful look, Arthur’s entire demeanor changed. “Ah… On a more serious note, though… yeah. I don’t get why people not liking you is a problem, but you’ve told me before it’s something that bothers you, so it’s feasible it bothers other people. I’ll make a point not to make it worse.”

Clearing my throat, I pushed the conversation on to the next topic. “You mentioned two errands earlier. One for me, one for Charly?”

“Right.” The relief to be changing topics was palpable. “For you, Councillor, Galactic Core is almost finished. Eino is already considering other ongoing-education programs, and you’re going to need to start scouting educators again. That late-twentieth through contemporary Terran history course? Big support-base, turns out.”

“You wouldn’t tell me this without a reason,” I pointed out. “And you’re a History teacher. Volunteering?”

“I want it done right,” he admitted. “The idea being bounced around isn’t for a requirement that everyone take the course. Not at the same time, anyway. History-focused educators only, approved curriculum.”

“Approved?” I asked. “By whom?”

“A committee,” he shrugged. “Eino, obviously. Xiomara, with her background - which, by the way, is ridiculous - “

“We know, we know,” Charly and I groaned.

After glancing between us for a moment, Arthur continued. “And me.”

“Why you?” I asked. “No offense, just trying to understand.”

“No offense taken, I’ll explain that part later, but I promise it’s for a legitimate reason. The point is, Eino and his committee approve the curriculum and number of slots. You and Tyche make the decisions for who is allotted where.”

“Fair point,” I conceded.

“Fine. The area of history I focused on for my Master’s degree has an important component that ties a lot together and makes revisionism harder - wait. What?” I could almost hear the gears squealing as they ground to a halt. “Did you just say yes?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“That was… disturbingly easy,” he gave me a skeptical look. When all I did was grin, he slowly turned to Charly. “As for you, I wanted to talk to you about the assignment that’s due next Friday.”

“I already turned it in,” she pointed out.

“Which is what I wanted to talk to you about. It’s a week and a half early.”

“Right….” she nodded slowly. “And I made sure it met all the criteria on the syllabus. Plus I had three different people proofread it.”

“All of which is admirable, and it would be considered a very well-done assignment,” he admitted. “If you didn’t have an extra week and a half left to make it even better.”

“Mr. Farro….”

“You aren’t in trouble, in any way shape or form,” he reassured her. “But I know you are capable of doing better than the assignment you already gave me. I wanted to offer you a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Charly asked suspiciously. “This isn’t illegal, is it?”

“What? No…” he sputtered. “Illegal!?”

“Gotta be sure,” she nodded sincerely. I was reasonably certain she was giving him a hard time, but it was still hilarious to watch.

Shaking his head, Arthur did his best to recover. “The deal is this: if you stick with the assignment you already sent me, I’ll grade it as it stands. But. If you re-do it and hand it in on the original due date, you’ll be eligible for extra credit for your extra effort.”

“But I still get the grade on the one you already have, either way?” she asked skeptically.

“I’ve already graded it, and you won’t get a worse grade if you re-do it,” he promised.

“I’ll think about it,” she hedged carefully. “That paper was a lot of work.”

“That’s fair,” he nodded. “What if you sent me an audio recording, instead? No extra writing.”

“I can do that,” she agreed, sticking out her hand. After Arthur shook it, she glanced at the time. “Shit. I gotta go. Sophia, don’t be late back to work, okay? Tyche won’t care, but Alistair may stop letting me have extra marshmallows in my cocoa when I come by your office.”

After she left, I gave Arthur a very serious look. He tried to ignore it, but after about five solid minutes of The Squint, he caved. “For the love of… She’s smart, okay? You know, I know it. The paper she handed in a week and a half early was much more insightful than anyone else in the class. They were assigned a research paper on the underlying causes of the breakdown in relations between the Ekomari and Shalt-kri’i. Everyone focused on political ideologies, trade resources, navigational route control. Standard causes for war, from a Terran perspective. Do you know what Charly Harper wrote her paper about?”

“Food?” I asked, going out on a limb.

“So close! Cultural differences, plain and simple. Ekomari are vaguely mammalian, and their diet consists of native arthropods. Guess what Shalt-kri’i look like?”

“You’re kidding me…”

“Not even slightly. And! To add insult to injury, in a very close to literal sense, Shalt-kri’i greet each other as friends by spreading their appendages, a lot like a hug. Whereas Ekomari show aggression by… standing up on their hindmost appendages and spreading the rest to look bigger.”

“And no one caught this before?”

“Not on the Ark, no.” He spread his arms wide. “No one even considered it. Sure, the rest are good points, and they did make everything worse, more than likely, but the start? She nailed it.”

“Then why have her re-write the assignment?” I was honestly confused at this point.

“The way she wrote it, I could tell she wasn’t confident about the answer at all.” He looked about as frustrated as I had ever seen him. “You get her talking about engineering, or pranks, she knows she knows what she is talking about. I want her to know that she is just as right about this as she was about that.”

Hard to believe that this was the same man whose office I had marched into, out for a pound of flesh and the blood besides, because the same woman we were discussing left his class in tears and begged me not to make her go back. However…

“Honestly?” I ventured. “I want to hear this recording when she hands it in. I’m really curious about this.”

“You think she’ll write it?”

“Pfft,” I scoffed. “I know she will. You gave her a challenge where she can’t lose, but stands a lot to gain. I just hope you’re ready for that sound file.”

“I honestly can’t wait,” he smirked.

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#the miys #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #found family #aspec #science fiction #original science fiction #earth is space australia #humans are space fae #hfy #fiction #original fiction #my writing #apocalypse #aliens #post-apocalypse

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justahopelessssromantic · 4 years

Text

Perfect

Part 11

Part 10

A/N: Hey guys finally have the next part out for y’all! I’m going to tag the parts a little different and just link the one before this because it’s getting a little tedious 😅. Anyways I hope you all enjoy and thank you so much for all the continued love and support! You all really mean the world to me! 💖

*gifs not mine*

Warnings: Angst, violence

A few weeks had passed and with each one you saw less and less of Angel and more of Matt. It wasn't your intention, Angel just wouldn't come around as often, avoided you the best he could whenever you were at the clubhouse, and was going on more runs than usual. He was trying to stay busy, to keep his mind busy.

He was waiting for you to blow up on him about the text but you never did. A few days after he sucked it up and came into his father's shop while you were working.

"Hey," he greeted you with a nod of the head. If you were going to say something about it now would be the time. He was ready for it.

"Hey," you smiled back at him. "How are you doing? I saw your text." You said gently.

"You did?" He assumed you did but you never said anything until now. Here it comes, he thought. Holding his breath he waited for you to explode, but you didn’t.

"Yeah. Sorry I didn't reply I didn't see it until later and when you didn't show up I just assumed you weren't coming, that maybe club shit came up." You understood that the club would always come first and naturally if you didn't hear from him that was the reason. "I appreciate it though, you wanting to check on me. Thank you."

"Didn't think you needed me," he complained, "You seemed just fine with Matt there."

Now you realized why he hadn't stopped and you let out a sigh. You could just feel the stress headache coming on already.

“What’s the problem, querida?” He leaned onto the counter closer to you, his cologne strong and intoxicating bringing you a sense of nostalgia as he continued spitting words better left unsaid, “Didn’t want me to find out? He stay the night too? Fuck your pain away?”

“That’s your thing, not mine.” You spat back, your jaw clenched. “Remember?” You internally scolded yourself for letting him get under your skin, again. Stepping back from the counter closing your eyes you rubbed your temples. “How many times are we going to keep doing this Angel?" You asked before opening your eyes and looking back at him. 'Aren’t you tired of it?” You were feeling incredibly burned out and tired, tired of going round and round in the same circle over and over again. You couldn't understand how he couldn't be tired as well. You didn’t have the energy for this fight again, especially not today. “Because I am. I'm so very, very tired.”

Angel laid his palms flat against the counter top looking down at the packages in the display case below him as he let out a sigh. He was tired just like you, maybe even more so, but he couldn’t give up on you. He couldn’t let you go. You held his heart and there was no one in the world he could ever give it to again. It belonged to you just like he did. It pained him to know how bad you were hurting to see how now that you were back everything was weighing down on you once more but this was a fight he couldn’t give up on. “Yeah, I’m tired too.” He said, looking up and meeting your eyes, getting lost in the familiarity of them. “I’m tired of not waking up next to you, tired of not being the reason behind your beautiful smile, tired of being the reason for the pain I can see so clearly in your eyes, mi dulce.” He swallowed trying to keep his emotions in check, which was almost nearly impossible when he was around you, “ And most of all I’m tired of missing you.”

“Angel I-”

The soft sound of candy spilling out of a box alerted the two of you to the presence that was now in the shop with you. You were so caught up in each other you didn’t even hear the man enter. Turning your attention to the man you watched as he plopped a couple of the Candy & Licorice candies he had into his mouth.

Angel tensed up beside you immediately holding himself taller. No one had said anything yet but you could tell by Angel’s reaction to the man that he was not a friend.

He slipped the box of candy into his pocket before returning his gaze back to the two of you. “Trouble in paradise?” he finally spoke up with an unsettling smile, “Please continue.” He motioned towards the two of you. “Don’t let me interrupt your little lover’s quarrel.”

“What the fuck do you want?” Angel spoke up stepping closer to the man.

“Meat of course. What other reasons would there be for someone to stop into Carniceria Reyes?” He said almost challenging Angel. Smiling once more he turned his attention to you and stepped up to the counter. “Forgive me. Where are my manners?” He said extending his hand out to you, “I don’t believe we’ve met. Lincoln Potter.”

Angel’s glare burned through Potter’s back. He didn’t like him being here, sniffing around you. It did nothing but add on to the stress and anger piling up inside him.The last thing he wanted was for Potter to involve you in any more of their shit then you already were.

His phone buzzed from within his cut and as much as he didn’t want to leave you alone with Potter he knew he had to take the call. He pulled the device out, “Yo.” He answered, walking towards the window.

You kept most of your attention on your new acquaintance, Lincoln Potter but were also very aware of Angel and his reaction to the man and did your best to be aware of any silent signals Angel may give you as well. He was ordering a roast and you smiled politely taking his order but you knew that wasn’t why he was really in the shop that day.

“I’ll be there.” You heard Angel say before hanging up his cellphone. You finished wrapping the produce and turned back around meeting his eyes. You gave him a little nod to let him know you would be okay before he ducked out of the shop, the bell dinging behind him and you turned your attention once more to the task at hand.

After that day you didn’t see as much of Angel. He’d ride by every once in a while to make sure Potter wasn’t giving you trouble and each time he would it seemed Matt’s truck was always outside his Pop’s shop. Eventually he couldn’t handle it anymore and stopped altogether. He was trying to give you space, trying not to lose his cool and if that meant he had to avoid you then avoid you he would.

Or at least he’d try.

But like you had said that was impossible. Everywhere he went if he wasn’t seeing you or Matt he was hearing all about you from the people of Santo Padre. And if it wasn’t you and Matt it was Coco and Matt, even sometimes the three of you. He understood now more than ever why you up and left him and the small town you held dear in your heart.

But Angel couldn’t run away so instead he found other ways to release some stress. Like after he saw Matt at your place again he took it out on the old piece of shit car that had been sitting at the scrapyard. He swung the crowbar over and over, shattering the glass, denting the car up beyond repair before tossing the crowbar to the side without paying any attention to his surroundings. The only thing on his mind was rage at that moment.

“Shit,” Gilly said, jumping away from the flying object. “Damn Angel, watch what you’re doing.”

Angel ran his hand through his hair. He turned his attention to his brother, completely out of breath. “Fuck, sorry hermano.” Angel pulled his pack out of his cut extending a cigarette Gilly’s way.

Gilly took it, flipping a couple of buckets over creating a seat for him and Angel. He sat down lighting it up watching as Angel did the same. The separation was rough on Angel but this was so much worse and Gilly was starting to really worry about his hermano. None of the guys knew what to do. They felt like they were walking on eggshells around him just waiting for him to explode, so they let him take his frustrations out as best they could. “What’d old Matilda ever do to you?” He tried to tease Angel nodding to the beat up junker.

He should have known better though. Angel hadn’t been much in the teasing mood for a long time. He just started ahead with his cigarette dangling between his fingers getting lost in the damage he had created both physically in the car before him and in his relationships.

Gilly missed the old Angel.

When Angel wasn’t beating the shit out of inanimate objects he was taking it out in the ring. Every opportunity he got he’d be busting it out in there, taking whoever it may be who would be willing to be his punching bag that day. The guys knew it wasn’t personal and all took turns taking the brunt of it just trying to help in any way they can.

“Alright,” Angel said, approaching the table of his fellow members, “Who wants to have a go in the ring?”

The men all groaned internally. Gilly sipped his beer, Riz pretended to be very involved in the current card game before him, Creeper acted as if his phone held something very important and EZ stood up making some excuse about needing to clean the bar up.

“C’mon,” Angel whined, “Really? None of you fuckers are gonna be man enough to take me on?” He said, trying to play at their egos.

The truth was they were all exhausted. They could only go this way for so long and it seemed that Angel never got tired, he was always ready for another fight. It wasn’t normal and sure as hell not healthy.

“Fine,” he spat, grabbing a beer off the table. “If you need me I’ll fucking be out back!” Beer in hand he stormed out, the door slamming behind him.

Another method Angel used to distract himself was running. Every morning he would wake up at the crack of dawn, throw on some shorts and sneakers and head out the door with no destination in mind, just letting his feet take him. It was like he was training for a marathon that no one knew about.

Unfortunately though his feet were always taking him to your place where he’d stand across the street staring at the dark house before him. You were always sleeping so you would never know he was there but he’d be there a good twenty minutes before he’d suck it up and move on. If he wasn’t finding himself at your place then it was the park where you had your first official date. He’d stop and sit on the swing for a moment catching his breath as he remembered all the picnics you had shared there together, the birthdays, anniversaries, and just lazy days when you’d get the day just for the two of you.

Every place in this town held a memory of you, a memory of your time together as a couple. He really couldn’t escape you.

All these things provided him a momentary release but it wasn’t enough and it was only a matter of time before he snapped. Everyone could see that and were anxiously waiting for the moment to come only hoping there wouldn’t be too many casualties in the fallout.

Each day at the Carniceria got a little easier. You started to notice Angel’s lack of being around a little less and tried to push him to the back of your mind.

Matt would come by often, bringing you coffee or lunch. You’d take your breaks with him enjoying the food he provided and taking a nice stroll in the fresh air. He was easy to talk to, you never shared the deepest parts of your life but anything else was always on the table. There was nothing you felt like you couldn’t share with him.

He felt just as comfortable around you as well and would tell you about his mother who practically raised him all alone after his father split. His dad was a drunk so he nor his mother ever missed him once he was gone. He told you about his days serving with Coco and all the shenanigans they would get up to. His stories were always so detailed you could picture them vividly and you’d get lost in them.

When you were with Matt all your worries would go away, you felt free and the time would fly.

You were wiping down the counter as EZ browsed his father’s bookshelf looking for something new to read. Unlike Angel he was always stopping in, offering a hand and checking up on you and his Pops. He even would talk to Matt when he’d stop in. EZ liked him, he seemed decent and no one could deny how his presence seemed to lift your spirits, get you excited again.

It was nearing one in the afternoon, the time that Matt would usually come in and you’d close shop for your lunch break. You finished your cleaning, tossing your gloves in the trash bin and then removing your apron and hanging it up on the hook.

You stepped around the corner looking over at the shelf next to EZ as he pulled out a title and examined the back. “Find anything yet?” You asked.

“Yeah,” EZ grinned holding up the book and turning to you. “You know he likes you.” EZ said changing the subject.

“Who?”

“Matt.” He said. He chuckled noticing how you began fiddling with your hands. You might not want to admit it but he knew you liked him too. “He’s a good guy, makes you happy. You deserve that (Y/N). You should give him a chance.”

“I don’t know EZ..” you tried to protest. You did like Matt and he was a great guy but you still couldn’t fully comprehend him liking you back and even so your heart always tugged towards Angel.

“Just try,” EZ encouraged taking your hand in his. “I know you still love Angel but there’s a lot of pain there. Maybe Matt’s what you need right now, a fresh start.” EZ hated himself a little for telling you these. He knew Angel would kill him if ever found out but from how things were going right now your relationship together was toxic. Maybe this was what was best, to let go of each other. He just wanted to see the two of you happy again, to see you stop hurting one another.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” You said leaving it at that. Sure you dated one guy since Angel but that was different. It never went farther than just a few dates and one kiss before you ended things knowing you didn’t feel for him the same way he did for you. You just couldn’t get Angel out of your head, constantly comparing the poor guy to him. With Matt however it was different, Angel was still in the back of your mind but it was easier to forget when you were around Matt. You never compared him to Angel and you couldn’t deny that he made you happy, or was easy on the eyes.

A few days later Matt was in the shop again. You had just had lunch together and he was getting ready to head back out as you resumed your position behind the counter.

He was headed out the door when he stopped himself just short of it. It was now or never he thought. He turned back around stepping up to the counter. You picked your head up smiling at him. Your smile would always be enough to take his breath away, he thought. “Would you like to go out with me? Like on a date?” He asked. On the outside he seemed cool and collected but inside he was more nervous than he had ever been. To say he was rusty would be an understatement. He hadn’t been on a date in forever let alone ask someone on one but you were special. You made him feel like he could have someone to come home to, someone to care for who also cared for him. Like he could have a family one day.

You felt like a silly teenager again, the butterflies swirling inside you. You had hung out plenty of times but never for a date which naturally made you a little nervous. If it wasn’t for EZ’s comment earlier you would have been completely caught off guard but thankfully you were a little prepared. “Okay, yeah.” You decided, giving him a smile before adding, “But only on one condition.”

“Deal,” he said maybe a little too quickly. He grinned back at you loving the way the corner of your eyes crinkled slightly when your smile grew.

“I haven’t even told you the conditions yet,” you laughed lightly at his eager response.

“Whatever it is will be worth it if it means I get to have the evening with you.”

You felt your face flush as you looked down. You met his eyes looking back at him, “Come to my place. Friday, eight pm sharp. Don’t be late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He replied grinning. He nodded his head before stepping back. “I can’t wait. See you then (Y/N).” He said before stepping out of the shop and down the street.

Friday night and all the men sat around nursing their beers while they played a hand. The day had been fairly relaxed and everyone was enjoying having the day off.

Coco walked into the clubhouse seemingly just having ended a phone call. He nodded at Bishop getting his attention from the table. Bishop stood up excusing himself from the game and walked into Templo with Coco behind him.

“What’s up, Coco?” He asked once they were in the room.

“Just got off the phone with Matt, he’s on the other side,” Coco explained as Bishop listened carefully, “He’s in a bit of a situation, needs help getting back over.”

“Go,” Bishop told the younger Mayan, “We shouldn’t need you.”

“Aight,” Coco nodded, turning back around to head out.

“Coco!” Bishop called out getting his attention. “Take Angel and EZ with you, you’ll need some backup.”

“No offense, Bish.” Coco addressed his president, “But that sounds like a terribly fucking idea.” They all knew the situation between Angel and Matt was tense, more so with Angel.

“Doesn’t look like Matt’s going anywhere,” Bishop said, stepping closer to Coco, “They have to work this shit out, Angel needs that to get through to him. It’ll be good, for everyone.”

Coco nodded once more before turning back around and out. “Yo Boy Scout, Angel!” He called out. Getting their attention the two Reyes brothers followed him out and to van.

The ride to the tunnels was long and quiet. This was the last place Angel wanted to be but he sucked it up. At least in this way he felt like Coco still needed him even if it was just to save his other fucking best friend. Once there they made their way through and into the vehicle waiting for them on the other side.

They found the location Matt had shared and walked into the building. Matt sprung up aiming at the men causing them to draw their weapons as well before they all lowered them upon the realization of who the other was. Walking over, Matt pulled Coco in for a quick hug a young girl following behind him. “Thanks brother.” He said, patting his back.

“Who’s that?” EZ asked about the young girl. She looked frightened but at least wasn’t injured.

“Don’t need to know,” Matt said plainly. That’s all he could tell these men even if they were trusted friends.

“We come all the way over here to save your ass and you won’t even tell us why?” Angel spoke up, pissed. They were risking their tails without a clue to how dangerous the situation is and he didn’t like being in the damn dark.

“Angel!” Coco scolded. This wasn’t the time for this petty shit.

“I’m just saying we have a right to fuckin’ know! I’m not risking my life for-” Angel’s next words were interrupted by gunshots flying into the small room.

The girl screamed as Matt pushed her under a table to protect her from the bullets raining down on them. “EZ!” Matt called out getting his attention, “Watch the girl.” He ordered before stepping out and shooting back at the men who had ambushed them.

EZ ran over taking guard and cover near the girl shooting at anyone who came near. The four men took out the small team fairly easily. Bodies laid everywhere as they took in the carnage before them.

“Fuck!” Angel shouted, turning towards Matt. “What the fuck was that?! We almost got fucking killed!” He charged towards Matt when one last man who must have been hiding jumped out and tackled him to the ground. Matt, Coco, and EZ watched as the two tussled starting with Angel getting on top and pinning him down.

Angel was living for this. This man was just what he needed, someone he could best the shit out of like he wanted to do to Matt. He landed blow after blow to the guy's face before he managed to get the upper hand himself and got Angel turned around so he was on top with him in a tight choke hold. Angel fought the man taking a little longer than he would like but he knew he could take him down, that he’d kill him.

The fight was taking too long and they didn’t have time for this. Matt pulled his glock out and shot the man point blank in the head finishing the job and ending the struggle.

Angel gasped for air as the sound of the gunshot rang in his ears while he pushed the man off him and wiped the blood from himself. He caught his breath standing up and glared at Matt.

EZ came over in an attempt to make sure his brother was okay but Angel didn’t care. He only had one thing on his mind.

Angel was fuming as he stomped past EZ and up to Matt. “What the fuck was that?!” He barked. Adrenaline coursed through his body from the previous scuffle and his hatred towards this man who was stealing his life away. His chest heaved rapidly as he readied himself for the much needed release of shit that had been building up for too long now. It wasn’t enough to take it all out on everything and anything else around him. He needed to take it out on the root of his problem, Matt.

“Oh, you mean me saving your ass back there?” Matt wasn’t having this crap today. He had put up with Angel for too long now. He just saved his ass, and all Angel was doing was being an ungrateful little shit.

“I had it fucking handled!” Angel defended himself. He didn’t need Matt swooping in and saving the day. He could handle himself, could hold his own and that kill should have been his not fucking Matt’s.

Matt looked Angel up and down only adding to Angel’s irritation. “Could’ve fooled me. Looked like the fucker was going to kill you so I took him out, saved your life. You’re not going to hear an apology from me so if that what you’re waiting for I suggest you walk away and not waste anymore of my fucking time.”

“Right cause you have some big date tonight with my girl!” Angel spat. Yeah he knew about it, EZ had mentioned it to him after you had told him. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The day was long enough as is and as soon as they got back he’d just be stuck thinking about that damn date that should be with him not Matt. He should be coming back from this shit show to your comforting embrace not Matt. That should be him. “Don’t act like you were doing me some big fucking favor. You did that for yourself! So you could play hero and brag all about it to (Y/N) so you can get in her fucking pants! I see right through you Matt, know what guys like you do.” He was lashing out now, hoping to get under Matt’s skin just as deep as he had his. There was no way he was as perfect as he seemed. “You’re just going to use her and then you’re going to throw her away once you get what you want. You’re gonna fucking break her heart, and when you do I’ll be there to clean up the mess.”

“You mean like I’m doing for you? I think we both know that you’ve already handled breaking her just fine yourself.” Matt said stepping up to Angel, the two men’s chests were practically touching by now. “I threaten you Angel, I get that. You’re scared that she’s going to find everything she needs in me. That I’m going to take care of her, respect her,” he spat, “like you should have and she’s going to realize she is much better off without you, that she deserves better.” He snarled. “You know that, I know that, and deep down she knows that too. It’s time you let her go.”

Angel’s eyes darkened with each word that was spat out at him. If steam could physically be coming out of someone’s ears it would be happening to Angel right now. Everything finally was bubbling up and over with actions winning over more words. Without missing a beat he grabbed Matt by the shirt swinging a right hook straight to the side of his face, his large metal rings cutting up his skin with the force of the punch.

Matt staggered back just a little before catching himself. He rolled his jaw, spitting the blood to the ground as he snarled at Angel. Before Angel could react the wind had been knocked out of him with a fierce blow from Matt.

EZ perked up ready to jump into the fight when Coco held his hand out keeping the young Mayan back. He shook his head, “They need this Boy Scout , he needs this.” He told EZ nodding to Angel.

Angel hunched over unable to breath as Matt held him up and pushed him back against the nearest wall. His voice was rough and hushed as he growled into Angel’s ear. “You know I’ve been real patient with you Angel, more so than you deserve, but you know what? You’re right. I did do it for her, not you, because for some reason,” he tightened his hold on Angel pulling back his face so he could look him in the eyes, “for some reason she still cares about you, and I care about her. That’s what you do Angel, when you care for someone. You put their needs above your own. And yeah I’d like more than anything to beat the ever living shit out of you right here and now but I won’t, for her.” It was difficult for him but if he started he may not be able to control himself. He wasn’t going to let Angel push his buttons, wasn’t going to let him feed that monster within. Turning his head to the side he spat more blood out from Angel’s hit, the cut on his lip stinging from the movement. He was done tiptoeing around Angel. He looked back at him challenging the man in front of him. “So Angel, tell me, do you really care about her? Are you going to put her needs for once above your own?”

Angel could finally breathe again as he regained his voice. “What? And that’s supposed to be you?” He snarked.

“Why don’t we let her decide for herself.” Matt said before pushing off Angel. Turning around he headed towards the exit of the building grabbing the girl on his way out. Coco shook his head looking at Angel now hunched over with his hands on his knees before jogging after Matt and catching up beside him patting his shoulder.

EZ walked over helping his brother up. “You okay, Angel?”

Angel wanted to shrug his brother off but he didn’t. He watched as Coco caught up to Matt the betrayal stinging him even more. “Yeah lil bro. Just fuckin’ peachy.”

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