#+ knives should probably be in the middle section. like she wants to pull it for her having copped her style and being stupid abt scott. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rowanaelinn · 3 years

Text

Safe Place

rowaelin month day four : librairies @rowaelinscourt

warning: not descriptive nsfw content

Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius could be described as a calm male. Out of all his companions, he probably was the one with the most self-control and he thanked the Gods for it every time one of his friends said something stupid.

However, it didn’t apply when his wife was concerned. Around Aelin, Rowan’s self-control seemed to vanish. She had the ability to get him angry, to become a blushing mess or a soft idiot with just one sentence. There was no control around his mate and it was one of the reasons he loved her.

But when he woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, Rowan lost the little human part he had in himself. Rowan lost all control the moment he smelled a lingering scent of fear. Her fear.

Has she been taken again?

Has it all been a dream? Had he not got her back?

In a second, Rowan was standing, knives at the ready around his waist. He would fight to get her back if he had to. Not having Aelin by his side made him feel like all the air in the world was gone.

Rowan wanted to yell at himself for falling asleep, he should have protected her.

In all the times her Fireheart was in danger, Rowan was never there to protect her. What a poor excuse of a husband and mate he was. He still didn't know why his queen was keeping him and hadn't already thrown him out. He was useless. Completely useless.

He kept complaining because of the royal duties, kept saying he liked being a prince just fine because it didn’t bring him any mess. His only role as King Consort, mate, and husband was to protect Aelin and he had shown the world how bad he was at it. Multiple times.

She wasn’t okay, he could feel her sadness from her side of the bond. Rowan felt like a prick for being relieved at the feeling of her emotions just because it meant she was still alive and not in a damn iron coffin that blocked every chance for them to communicate.

First, he came out of the royal apartments, following Aelin’s faint scent. She had become so damn good at hiding herself with her magic, a trick Fenrys taught all of them. It was a useful skill to have, Rowan was relieved most of the time no one could track her with her scent but he wasn’t tonight. Not when he needed to see her.

Thankfully with Aelin’s condition lately, her scent was stronger which meant she couldn’t cover up all of it. He refused to imagine she had been taken away until he had searched the entire castle twice. She had to be here, somewhere.

He went first to the kitchen, hoping to find her behind the counter, a plate with chocolate cake in front of her. She would look up, fork still in mouth and she would smile guiltily at him. She would apologize, saying she was always so hungry lately and he would shake it off, taking another fork and join her even if he hated cake. Just to show her she wasn’t alone.

But when he opened the door, the kitchen was empty, making Rowan’s heart clench.

Next, he went to the throne room, hoping to find her sitting on her throne, a sad smile on her face she would try to conceal with a smirk. He would ask her what she was doing here and she would tell him she needed to be alone and to feel in power, and what better than her throne to make her feel powerful? But this room was empty too, and Rowan’s heart crushed a little further.

Maybe she was in the inside cemetery, kneeling between both her parent’s graves. She would look up at him and wouldn’t try to hide her tears. She would have a smile on her face, telling him she needed to feel close to them. To be between the two of them without waking up with blood everywhere. Rowan would nod and sit behind her, letting her rest her back on his chest and he would let her cry bringing her all the comfort she needed. But she wasn’t here, and Rowan didn’t know where to look for her now.

If they were in Rifthold, he would probably think she was speaking to either Sam or Nehemia, telling both of them everything about what happened in their court since the last time she spoke to them.

But they weren’t in Adarlan so it left only one place where she could be. His walk to the library was slow, slower than he wished. He could just shift and fly instead of taking all the stairs but if she was there she would make fun of him for it, she had enough to tease him already.

When he arrived at the library, as always, he was dazzled by the splendor of the room. The last time the librarians counted, Aelin and Rowan owned three hundred thousand books and that was a decade ago, just after the construction work was finished.

Aelin had cried and laughed and smiled for hours when she first saw it, walking through all the sections to see every book, then made love to Rowan on the floor, more tenderly than they were both used to, to thank him.

As if seized by a frenzy, Rowan walked like a mad man through the library to find her. He regretted giving her something so big, having to look at every fucking row. There were so many places to hide.

After what seemed like hours, Roan saw familiar blonde hair. He let a sob come out in relief. She wasn't gone. There was no Valg Queen that had pulled her away from Rowan, no, his Fireheart was just sitting on a couch that looked very comfortable, six pillows behind her back.

"Rowan?" She asked, raising her eyes full of concern. "Is everything okay?" Her eyebrows were furrowed.

Instead of answering, he rushed to her side, falling onto her lap to be on the same level as her and scanning her entire body to make sure she was okay and truly in front of him.

His eyes fell on a small scar on her right knee, a scar she had made during one of their training sessions. He remembered kissing the mark every night for weeks when he noticed it after enjoying his wife's goddess body. He hadn't noticed that she was injured during their workout and he felt terrible about it.

Aelin kept telling him he was fussing, but he knew deep down she liked it. She loved to be cherished and protected. He dropped his head to her lap, unable to fight a sob. She put her book aside, sitting straighter and one of her hands found her way in his hair. Rowan hated himself for the tears streaming down his face as he looked up at her, he hated himself even more for the look of agony on his mate’s face.

“Speak to me, please.” She begged him, her hand still playing in his hair.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice even and strong but he couldn’t. “I thought you were gone.” He breathed deeply, trying to calm down and focusing on where he touched her, his hands and arms on her legs. “I woke up to an empty bed and your fearful scent and I panicked.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Rowan.”

“You weren’t supposed to go anywhere either last time but you still did.” He hated the poisonous words the moment they felt his mouth but his mate didn’t seem hurt, knowing anger was his way to cope. “I’m sorry,” He hid his face on her leg, not wanting to see her hurt face.

“Don’t be,” Was the only thing she said as she kept stroking his hair. She was too good to him, she had always been. She had known so much pain her entire life but she was still an amazing person, Rowan didn’t know how much strength it must take her. The Gods knew Rowan lacked that particular strength when the time had come, he had turned into the worst version of himself. He admired his Fireheart.

After a moment, Rowan looked back at her and she smiled, his entire world brightened at this. She was okay, she was right here with him. She was safe.

“How are you?” He asked, feeling selfish for crying when she was the one who had a nightmare.

“We’re both okay, Rowan.” She reassured him as her free hand came to rest on her slightly rounded belly. Rowan’s heart swelled at the sight, he still couldn’t believe it. After years, decades, of trying Azlin was pregnant. She had been glowing for the past four months, even if she said otherwise.

“Is she still kicking?” He asked, one of his hands joining Aelin’s.

“Your son is restless, I hope you slept enough in your life because he’s not going to let us sleep much once he’s here.”

Both Aelin and him had a divergence of opinion on their baby’s sex. Aelin was sure it was a boy, whereas Rowan believed it was a girl. A girl had been their oldest in the vision he had for months when Aelin was gone. It had been too realistic to be a dream, had felt too real.

Yrene knew and had asked them if they wanted to know, but both of them agreed they wanted to keep it secret. They had too many surprises in their lives and none of them had been good, but this one would be. No more surprises unless it’s a good one.

“She’ll be worth every sleepless night.” His lips turned into a smile at the idea of a little Aelin and Rowan.

Aelin snorted. “Wait until you have to change diapers.”

At that, Rowan laughed, soon followed by Aelin. When he saw a hint of sadness in her eyes, his smile faded. “What did you dream of?” He asked, needing to know why his wife had left their room after a nightmare instead of waking him up.

She lost her smile too, her body tenser than moments ago. “Nothing important.”

“Please, tell me.”

She took a deep breath and some time to answer. Rowan didn’t mind, he’d give her eternity if she needed as long as he knew what troubled his wife. He got up, lifted Aelin's legs so he could sit next to her, and then rested her legs on his while he caressed her thighs in comfort. “I was you.”

“With Maeve?”

She shook her head making his confusion grow. She had already told him about nightmares of him being taken on that beach, of him being whipped and tortured for months. He had held her as she cried, as she told him the pain of losing him would have been so much more than the pain she experienced all these months away from him.

“In Arobynn’s cave.” She whispered as tears pooled in her eyes. He wouldn’t take her in his arms, he would wait for her to do it first, no need to overwhelm her. “With your eyes missing, whole body destroyed and a cold body.”

Oh.

“Fireheart…”

“Have you ever dreamed of me like that?” She asked and he knew she didn’t mean just dreams of her, dead.

“I did.” He admitted, his heart beating faster at the thought of it. “First in Wendlyn, when you left for Rifthold. Every time I closed my eyes I lived the day I found Lyria over and over again. But it wasn’t her small body that I saw, it was yours. It haunted me for months.” He took a deep breath, controlling his emotions. Aelin was crying, she didn’t need someone else to become a wreck. “Then when you told me you were pregnant, it started again.”

It happened more than he wanted to admit. He knew it wouldn’t happen, it was impossible, but he still could see her dead body in front of his destroyed mountain home.

Aelin didn’t say anything but she straddled him, his hands finding her waist as her fingers slipped through his hair. Her forehead came to rest on his as they both closed their eyes, enjoying each other’s company. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

His hand stroked her back, his fingers drawing the lines of his tattoo he knew by heart now. Every part of her body was written in his mind. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I know it’s rare lately.” Her warm hand cupped his cheek and he sighed in her embrace. “Whenever I don’t feel okay and you’re not around, I come here.”

“The library?”

“Or the theater if I feel like walking.” Which wasn’t a lot lately, his wife’s pregnancy was taking her so much energy they didn’t go to the theater in months. She was always so tired or in pain, he knew she missed it. “Whenever I’m here, I feel so close to you, as if part of your soul was here between these walls.”

His heart clenched at it, he lifted up his head, his lips settled gently on hers. He kissed her languidly, generously, putting as much love and passion as he could. He loved her so much he felt like dying. He would die without her.

Slowly, she began to unbutton his shirt, her tongue continuing to play with Rowan's. The kiss turned from passionate to needy. He needed the reassurance she was here, she was with him, and his mate knew it.

In a matter of moments, Rowan was shirtless and had pulled her nightgown over her head, revealing her naked body. Aelin had gained weight in the years since the war, her body that had once been too thin was now full. She had had a hard time adjusting, she had been starving most of her life. Even during her years with Arobynn, she was always under a strict diet to stay the best. She had never been in a stable enough place for her to thrive.

So when her flat stomach rounded out, thighs grew and cheeks filled out, it was a shock. Rowan had been there to worship her body day and night, reminding her that she was just living, and seeing her happy was the most beautiful thing Rowan had ever seen.

One of Rowan’s hands was teasing Aelin’s sensitive nipple, tearing little cries out of her perfect, delicate, lips. Her hands undid his buckle quickly as Rowan lifted his hips to slide his pants and underwear down, freeing his hard member.

Aelin didn’t waste time before taking him, her hand around him applying just the right amount of pressure. His hand slipped between her legs, directly finding her wet and warm entrance. They moaned together as Aelin’s hand movement quickened and Rowan plunged two fingers in her warmth, hitting that spot inside of her that made her scream every time.

As good as it was, Rowan craved something else, so when he groaned Aelin understood. He pulled out his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste her. No matter how many years had passed since the first time, Rowan kept being surprised at how good she tasted. He moaned around his fingers as Aelin teased her entrance with his erection before sinking down, making both of their heads drop back.

Being inside of her had always felt so good, had always felt so right, as if he had been born just to do this. Her belly prevented their chests from touching but Rowan didn’t mind as he ran his hands on every inch of her skin as she started moving.

Aelin kept bouncing slowly on top of him, taking her time as she chased her pleasure, and once again Rowan realized how much he loved her. His Fireheart, his mate, his wife, and his best friend.

He loved her so damn much and he told her so, repeated it over and over again as they both fell over the edge, gripping the other’s skin as they reached the peak of pleasure.

They were both breathless as he lifted her up, pulling out of her and he used his shirt to clean her up. He didn’t want to get dressed not yet, anyway. He lied on his side, tucking his Fireheart next to him. That way, every inch of his front could touch her back. One of his hands came to rest on her belly as he took her book, opening it to where she had left a bookmark.

“What are you doing?” She asked him, her voice sleepy. He used his magic to extinguish most of the candles in the bookstore, leaving only the ones behind him lit to give him some light. "Shhh." He said softly into her ear, moving slightly to be more comfortable, and pulled her even closer to him. "You don't have to come back to reality now." He told her then began to read her book aloud.

He couldn’t see her but deep down, he left her smile as she put her hand against his, both of them holding their baby as they hugged each other.

Aelin fell asleep quickly but Rowan didn’t stop reading, even if after many hours his voice became hoarse and his throat hurt. But if his Fireheart heard him maybe she would know he was still here, even in her sleep.

—————

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy

#rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius

151 notes · View notes

morimakesfanart · 3 years

Text

Sindria's Prophet #13

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

[AO3]

((edited because I figured out to add some more history facts that I think are important))

~POV Sinbad~

"The Kou Empire, huh?"

"That is going to make things risky."

With all of the Generals caught up with what happened in Balbadd, they needed to start planning for King Sinbad's trip to the Kou Empire, as well as catching him up with everything that had happened in Sindria while he was gone.

"LadY YamuRAI H AA AA A" A yell came from the hallway accompanied by the sounds of running.

((Sinbad is hidden on the left. There's a hint of him poking out.))

A panting magician gave apologies for disturbing their meeting and ran to the head of Sindria's magicians. "I wish I knew you were here so I didn't search the tower first~" Then he started explaining about some magical proof. Most of his words sounded like gibberish to the rest, but it was clear that he had made some kind of break though.

Yam jumped out of her seat. "How did you finally figure it out?! Who figured it out?!" She whipped her head to her King, "Sorry your majesty," and then looked back to the other magician.

"It was the work of the Prophet!” the magician answered. "We were talking about her illness and she pulled out scrolls that- you just have to read them for yourself!”

Mori had said that she had written other scrolls before she started coping down Fate. This must have been what she was working on.

Both magicians bowed out to go test out this new information. Before they could leave, Sinbad ended the meeting; there was no way he was going to wait to learn what other information Mori had blessed them with. Ja'far followed as did a few of the other Generals.

When they got into the court yard, the doctors that had been sent to take care of Mori were already pushing their supply cart back to their main building. The magician that had stayed behind spotted them and raised two scrolls up triumphantly. "She let me take the scrolls!"

---

News of the scrolls written by a Prophet spread throughout the Black Libra Tower within an hour. Yamuraiha and the doctors explained their significance to King Sinbad.

If even a fraction of the theories in the scrolls proved true it would completely changed their understanding of how illnesses work. If Mori wasn't sick she would undoubtedly be swarmed with questions and demands for proof. According to the magicians, nothing in the scrolls went against any known information. Instead, they gave explanations to why certain things that had been attempted in the past had failed. What she wrote about 'cells' was what really caught the eyes of the white magicians and doctors. As an example, according to Mori's writing there were blood types and most couldn't mix; that would explain why most past attempts at blood transfusions had failed.

The 2nd scroll showed a break down of even smaller particles, and how the structures of different particles made up everything. This was going to bring alchemic magic to a whole new era. Sure, such things would most likely be limited to high magicians, group efforts, and the Magi, but it looked possible now. A lot of common magic of the current day took extreme amounts of magoi in the past because they hadn't found the right formula yet. Mori's writing -if true- could easily be used as a guide to finding the right order of commands for many spells.

And even more than that, Mori had said that she had even more information to share; she had just ran out of scrolls and ink.

Mori's presence in Sindria, and everything that went with it were Fate and the Rukh's guidance. King Sinbad could see it -the future he wanted.

---

~POV Mori~

In Sindria's Palace there is a Great Bell. It is rung during celebrations, and to signify the King returning home like it did earlier that day, but it's main use was to ring every 2 hours to tell everyone the time since clocks weren't invented yet. So even though I was a sick person trying to rest during the day, I was woken up by the Great Bell every 2 hours... which of course is also situated right on top of the guest tower.

For obvious reasons, I was awake again.

I wish I knew how the others responded to the scrolls. I really wanted to know Yam's opinion most. Those scrolls basically gave away the secret to Yunan's signature alchemy magic.

I still had the first scroll I had worked on -the one on the science behind blimps-, and the last science scroll I had started. That one was on DNA, and reproductive systems. It was the last one I started in Balbadd. I hadn't started working on it until sunrise on my 2nd sleepless night and it showed; there were missing words everywhere, many incomplete sentences, and I couldn't stay in topic.

These mistakes were too great to fix with an ink knife. Editing was going be super annoying and time consuming since I couldn't work digitally. I'd have to physically cut up the first draft to put everything in the right order before making the next one.

Wait- Did this world have scissors???

Back home the first evolution of shears that could be labeled as scissors was in Roman barber shops in the last hundred years or so before Rome fell. China would spontaneous also create something akin to scissors not long after. Reim and the Kou Empire seemed to line up with Rome and ancient China for the most part, so I tend to use them to place the time period, but the dress Princess Dunya wears is centuries off and throws all historical accuracy questions out the window. Rome was long gone by the time boning was added to women's undergarments, and that dress had all the signs of boned corsetry.

Fuck it. I'll ask for scissors and if they don't have them I'll just invent them myself. I had been drafting professionally for the past 4 years. That may have been for microelectronics, but it uses all the same skills; I could do this. I needed to get a ruler -or at least a straight edge- and a drafting compass which they probably have based on the look of maps in the series, and pencils, or at least colored inks if they had them. I probably needed to reinvent the French curve(stencil tool used in art & drafting)...

Since I was struggling to fall back asleep I moved to the table and pulled out my test scroll. It was full of random marks and some of my early drawing attempts that I used to practice with the dip pen -it's also where I wrote down the dreams from the Rukh. I'd write the list of things I needed, rip the section out of the scroll, and pass the list to someone who could get me what I was asking for. I added some living necessities too like sleep wear and a comb.

The maids that came to give me dinner, and next dose of medicine were not pleased that I wasn't in bed -I was an important guest who was sick after all. And I wasn't pleased to have to drink more of that bitter medicine, but we can't have nice things all the time, now can we?

My voices was strained but I managed to communicate enough. I gave them my list, and laundry (the clothes I wore on the boat) before they left. They'd get me the things the next day. I was instructed to sleep until someone brings me breakfast the next day... which is what I was going to do anyway since the sun was practically gone. I might be a bit of a workaholic but I'm not going to let myself pull an accidental all-nighter when I know I'm still sick. I'm far more self aware than that.

And besides, the Great Bell didn't ring at night.

---

Maids brought my breakfast (& meds) the next morning and let me know that my clothes would be cleaned and dry by the end of the day. I guess they didn't use magic for everything.

They also gave me all of the drafting and inking supplies I asked for except for scissors. In one of the omakes Sinbad was shown cutting his hair with a knife as a part of his normal grooming. I had hoped he was just old fashioned.

For the greater good and the future of my own hair care, I drafted up detailed designs for a few different types of basic scissors. They wouldn't look fancy, but hopefully I had put enough of a detailed explanation on everything for the smith to figure out what I was asking. Steel wasn't developed until the middle ages and some of the counties of this world matched that so I hoped

that God and anime were on my side. I really wanted scissors that would be a good quality.

And if that didn't work I'd just have to get used to using knives and bladed rollers like a regular person.

The Great Bell rung for 10 am. There were at least another 2 hours before someone would show up, to give lunch, that I could ask to take my draft for the scissors to a black Smith.

I should be resting as a sick person. I should be more exhausted and in pain as a sick person. What was making me recover this quickly?

I still didn't feel like laying back down, so I decided to start drafting up the materials and equipment for proving everything I had written in the scrolls I gave the previous day.

Globally, micro-organisms, viruses, and bacteria were not really accept or proved until the late 1800's. Since Magi seems to take place some time around our 100AD-1300, and Yunan hinting at chemical compounds was seen as shocking by Yam, I knew that my bio scrolls were probably causing an uproar in the Black Libra Tower. I refused to use actual people or wait for an outbreak to prove it like how it happened in history -like how John Snow proved it when finding the cause of cholera outbreaks in 1848 and 1854 England. No, I needed to show how to prove these things in a lab, and to do that I was going to need to explain how to keep samples and invent a way to see microorganisms.

First was for a glass petri dish and other containers for samples. I'd need at least 3 -preferably more. I know glass works have been around since BC, and that this world had glass windows in some scenes, but I worried about the quality of the glass contaminating the experiments. I was going to have to boil them beforehand to sterilize them anyway.

Gosh I wish I had access to nonporous, air tight containers, and a temperature controlled environment. The heat and humidity of Sindria could easily mess everything up.

Wait... I suddenly remembered a scene from the Magnostadt arc when they showed how a sample was being stored. They already had good enough glass. I knew there were magic bio experiments but I had no idea how they worked.

With the realization that I was getting ahead myself, I switched to writing about how to use the scientific method to test for germs. It was basically the bread in a bag test to teach young children about germs but with petri dishes. I also wrote about how to analyze samples with a microscope to see micro organisms so I was going to have to figure that out next.

Lunch came as the perfect break.

Just thinking about reinventing this thing made me nervous. I knew magnifying glasses existed in ancient Rome, but they would be nothing like what I was used to. I had to explain how light moves and made multiple diagrams showing how concave and convex lenses affect light as well as the material of the lens. I ended up also showing how to make a telescope even though I knew Yam already had one.

Magicians were the only ones shown with glasses. Maybe now the rest of the world could have them too.

4 o'clock came and so did 3 doctors and a magician. It was less than yesterday, but still more than necessary to treat or analyze one person. I only recognized one of the doctors from the previous day. All of the new faces looked nervous. None of them looked young by any measure, so I really doubted this was their first time treating someone.

They weren't happy to see me at the table and made me return to my bed -their loss.

The doctor from the previous day was the one doing most of the talking. "Your recovery is amazing. You will most likely be better in another 3 days at this rate if not sooner. It's practically a miracle."

I smiled. "It's pretty shocking for me too." As long as I spoke quietly and kept my comments short, I found I could talk again for a bit.

The doctor was silent for a moment before changing the subject. "I know you need rest, but would you be willing to answer a few questions about those scrolls from yesterday?

The 3 other men looked expectant. This was why they were here.

"I don't mind as long as you don't make me talk too much."

Then came the question I was expecting since I had first made the scrolls. "I know you are a Prophet and the information came from your visions but is there any way you can prove what you wrote?"

I pointed to the table with the scroll I had started earlier. "I can't prove it with the current equipment I have, so I've been drafting up the needed equipment and processes for proving it."

They all turned to look at where I was pointing.

I added, "It's not done, but you're welcome to read what I have so far."

I was thanked as they went to the table they had called me away from when they entered.

'He called it 'visions?' Really?' I had to ask Sinbad later what he was telling his people about me so I could keep the story straight.

The magician confirmed for the others what I wrote about light bending. There was magic to do that, but not everyone is a magician. I had just invented a way for non-magicians to bend light.

Just wait until I show them a prism that can split light into colors. Or teach them how light is perceived in the eye. Or even better, show them the double slit experiment that proves that light is a particle not just a wave... Did they know light was a wave yet?

"Lady Prophet."

I was pulled out of my thoughts.

"You said this isn't finished and there is plenty of space in this scroll for more, but would you let us take this back to the tower so we can get started?"

I wanted to say 'no.' I was still coming up with things to add to it, but I also knew that holding things back because I wanted to save paper was a fool's game. Besides, I could always add more to it later.

I nodded and they thanked me before making me promise not to leave my bed. They were grateful for this new scroll but not at the expense of my health -they were doctors after all.

And then they left.

It was probably about 5pm if my internal clock was on schedule, so I had about an hour before the next ring of the Bell.

Even if I wasn't a man of my word, I would have lost the motivation to work with my current project taken from me while I was still in the middle of making it.

So, I did the thing I grew up doing when I was bedridden from illness: I looked out the window. From the bed I could only see the tops of the buildings on the other side of the courtyard. The Tower that was just poking in from the left had to be the Black Libra Tower.

The waves in Sindria were calmer yet stronger than those in Balbadd. It was probably due to Sinbad's influence. He brought stability and security to his people. I could understand why so many chose to follow him or ally with him. But I knew where all this would lead. As he obtains more power and influence he will stop being able to see himself from the pedestal that he and everyone else put him on; his greed will make him blind to the wants and needs of others, and like a middle aged parent that isn't ready for their child to leave the nest he will take out his frustration on the world that was moving on without him. When Sinbad dies at the end of the manga, Drakon realizes that they all put too much on Sinbad's shoulders.

To change Fate, I was going to have to make sure I never put him on that pedestal nor rely on him for much. And I was going to have to convince the 8 Generals to do the same -or at least to start pulling more of the weight.

The 6 o'clock Bell came faster than I expected, as well as my dinner not long after. They brought my clean laundry, a sleeping gown, and some other common clothes and things for my convenience.

I would have preferred something much shorter for the night gown since I hate having a lot of extra fabric around my legs when I already have blankets. I was not going to risk being walked in on by doctors or whoever when sleeping naked, so I would make do for now.

There was no way King Sinbad wasn't going to reward me for those scrolls. If it was some kind of treasure I'd sell it and buy a new wardrobe for myself that actually suited me, and if the reward was a request then I would ask that he pay for everything directly.

The light coming in my windows changed, and I watched my 2nd sunset in Sindria.

When Sinbad found this island 10 years ago, he completely terraformed it. He didn't get rid of all of the vegetation that was here, but he did break down one of the sides to allow for easier access by boat. The side he carved out faced northish towards all of the other known countries, so no boat would have a reason to circle the island. It was a decision that would benefit the merchants and make it easier to defend.

It also meant that my windows faced west, so I could watch the Sun set every day. I couldn't help but see that as a blessing and a curse. Sure not getting the sunrise meant I'd need to put more effort into

waking up in the morning but that wasn't the part I was worried about.

See- The thing is... I have synesthesia (having 2 or more senses overlapping). I see sounds, letters, and numbers as colors and textures. I have it mild enough that I can normally block it out so it's not too distracting (thank God because music is a main stim), but sometimes I'll hear something and get overwhelmed by how it looks.

Each letter and number is a color. So every voice can make every color, but language, pitch, tone, and accent all affect the colors and textures I see from a person's voice like a filter. There have definitely been some people that I struggled to give my full attention to when I first met them because I was entranced by how their voice looked. The more I hear a person's voice the more I'm able to move its visuals to the background so I can focus -desensitizing myself to it.

Luckily, Sinbad's voice is normally not so distracting that I stop paying attention. Since it's like a merger of every voice actor I've heard play him (All the characters I had met so far were like this.) I'm already desensitized. The similarities across all of the VAs meant that his voice looked like a sunset -full of deep purples and magentas, and bright reds, peach, and gold, and with a smooth and flowing texture like painting in acrylic with a wet brush -like a painting of the last moments of a sunset.

His voice was as pretty as he was.

I hadn't actually gotten to see or hear him for a whole day. But I'd get to look at his voice's equivalent every day while living under his protection.

It was frustrating to admit -I barely knew him as a real person- yet I couldn't deny that I missed him. I feel asleep watching the sun set.

((I wasn't going to write about my synesthesia, but this is my fanfic and I thought it might be fun to reference the colors peoples voices make when the characters talk. I'm not going to paint every VA and head cannon, but I will describe them as I go. Ja'far's Japanese and English VAs have voices that look very different so finding the middle ground is proving tricky.

Also, anyone who noticed that the purple I see in Sinbad's voice is the same as the purple I've been using for the illustrations and comics is super smart and cool.))

#magi prophet fanfic #magi fanfiction #magi fanfic #sinbad magi #king sinbad #magi sinbad

26 notes · View notes

iseeskiesofblueandcloudsofwhite · 3 years

Text

Pumpkin Man

Andrew thought he got rid of the man he suspected had an affair with his wife. Little did he know that he problems only started to take root in his backyard.

Chapter One

Andrew

May 16, 2021. It will be the day I forever regret. The day I killed my Robert Norstrum. He was a co-worker of Stacy, my wife. They worked at a local home depot at a town over, she worked in the garden section while he worked in electrical. He was a short man with piercing blue eyes and dark black hair who always had something clever to say and chose the most annoying way to say it. I know that I could be rough around the edges, not as easy going as some but that didn’t mean that he needed to bother my wife. I am a good father to our child and got a degree in software engineering so I could pay for our beautiful house with a garden that Stacy loved. Our home that we made was the perfect slice of heaven

There was nothing extraordinary about Robert that I could see, but I could see that my wife thought of him differently. Initially, when she spoke about him, her eyes would light up. Eventually she caught on to my disgust for him and just mentioned him on occasion, but at that point only the slightest mention would send me in a bad mood. And then there were the lapses of time I didn’t know where she was. She said she was going out to the store or out for a walk, but all I could imagine was her talking and giggling with that man with the blue eyes. When I mentioned it to her, she said that I was paranoid. The feeling was similar to that of right before one gets a head cold. You can sense something is off, but can’t quite put your finger on it. I remember my growing anxiety that I might lose my house, my wife and my kid along with everything I worked so hard to accomplish.

That day Robert Nostrum showed up at my door looking for her. It was in the middle of the day and I was working from home at that time taking my lunch. Stacy took Talyor, our daughter, on a playdate, and would not be back for hours. He said that he was dropping off a mums, and a giant pumpkin plant that she had been eyeing. I remember looking at the plant and thinking that I was the only man that should be giving Stacy gifts. I led him down into the basement where I said I had electrical problems and needed another man’s eyes on it. From there it was quite simple, while he was looking at the electrical work I hit him on the back of the head with a crowbar. There was no struggle as he seemed to be in shock. He fell to the floor and as I bludgeoned his face until it was unrecognizable. From there wrapped his body in an old carpet and put it in a wheelbarrow. It was in the middle of the day and I knew that most of the neighbors were at work in upper class suburbia. I emailed work quickly citing a family emergency so I could deal with the remains. My backyard also had a thin veil of trees from one property to the other making it difficult to see adjoining properties unless one was intent on looking. I dug a deep grave in the freshly tilled soil of the garden rather fast. Where the tiller did not reach I used a pick ax to loosen the dirt, the wet spring soil easily breaking under my shovel . I dug it much deeper than anyone would ever uncover. I knew I would tell Stacy next year that the garden would have to be moved next year and make some excuse that there was better light in other places of the lawn, but changing the location of the garden now would be too much work without a better cause. After digging the grave, I simply dumped the body in with the pumpkin plant that he came with. It was almost chilling to see that after I put back the earth around the grave, that it looked no different than the garden surrounding it. I cleaned the mess in the basement. Taking his car and I drove it to a local deserted park wearing plastic gloves to make sure I left no fingerprints. By the time Stacy was home with Taylor, so I told her that I had taken a short walk around town and I would be back in a few hours. That was the last I thought Robert Northstom would bother me, my wife or my daughter but I was horribly wrong.

Chapter Two

Stacy

Stacy looked outside the french windows as the crisp fall air touched her face. It wasn’t really cold, but the air was definitely getting drier and she could feel a sense of autumn wrapping its arms around her. Stacy could hardly believe it was autumn. It seemed like just yesterday that it was the start of the season at the store and she was laying out new plants that had just sprouted. That was when Robert kept her company at the store. He was nothing more than a friend but a real close one and his absence along with the socialization that Stacy got from working made Stacy feel uneasy transitioning back home. Stacy always found the adjustment back to full time stay at home mom overwhelming, but this year it seemed to hit even more. Taylor and her family were her life but Andrew had a tendency to be distant and Taylor could be a handful. Work sometimes seemed a lot less complicated than her home life.

Stacy savored the few moments before Taylor, her five year old, woke up and started creating havoc in the house with her toys. She could hear that her husband Andrew had already started working upstairs on his computer. He didn’t say a word to her this morning, but that was the way things usually were. He wasn’t distant when they first started dating, Stacy couldn’t really put her finger on it when they stopped saying good morning to each other, but now that was just the way it was. Stacy walked into the kitchen and started making breakfast with Edgar, the cat closely at her heels. Stacy was barely done with the eggs when she heard Taylor clomping down the stairs.

“Mommy!’ Taylor cheered as she entered the kitchen. She squatted down near Edgar and gently pulled his tail. Immediately Edgar scrambled out of the kitchen.

“Taylor, don’t pull his tail. That hurts him.” Stacy said.

“I’m sorry Mommy.” Taylor muttered, sitting in her chair.

“What do you want to do today? We could go to the farm and go for a tractor ride. Does that sound fun?” Stacy asked.

“Scarecrow!" Taylor exclaimed, pointing out the windows towards the garden.

This year the garden was a bust. Every plant Stacy planted died almost immediately as if the land was intentionally salted. The death had also creeped a little in the yard right up to the house resulting in a horrible looking yard. Stacy was sure it was just a bad grub problem this year, but then, in the middle of July, a pumpkin plant started to flourish in the garden. It soon consumed the barren garden with cascading leaves and pulsating veiny stems.

Since it was the only plant growing in the garden the pumpkin plant demanded the attention of the garden. In the middle of the vegetation lay a single pumpkin. It was not a huge pumpkin, slightly bigger than one’s head.

“Ok, we can do that.” Stacy knew Andrew should probably be included in the family activity, but he never seemed interested with any of the plants this year.

He even mentioned killing the plant and starting afresh making a new garden, but Stacy and Taylor would not allow it.

Stacy and Taylor walked out into the garden. The strong early autumn sun warmed the air but the dryness was still there. Taylor pranced out in the lawn already distracted by the sunshine and the earth. Stacy went into the garage grabbing paper, a pencil, cutting utensils, an old flannel shirt, jeans and gloves. Walking back to the house Stacy grabbed paints and a paintbrush. Painting was much more safe than carving knives.

“Andrew, we are going to make a scarecrow. I was wondering if you were free to help me cut off the stalk?”

“Umm.. sure. I will be there soon” Andrew mumbled.

Stacy walked out in the yard and helped Taylor gather leaves for the scarecrow’s body. Andrew came out to the yard a few minutes later with a knife.

“Daddy!” Taylor ran to Andrew. Andrew threw the knife a safe distance away and grabbed Taylor spinning her in the air.

Stacy looked at both Andrew and Taylor with the backdrop of their house. Everything about their life was picture perfect at this moment as she joined her family in an embrace.

“We are going to make a scarecrow today?’ Andrew asked, dropping Taylor and picking up the knife again.

“Yes, Scarecrow!” Stacy cheered.

Stacy noticed Andrew's face became firmer when he looked at the garden. He picked up the knife in his hand and walked towards the pumpkin. Sitting down, Andrew sliced the stem.

Errikkk

A distant scream cried out that sounded like it came a few houses over. The knife barely made an abrasion on the stalk.

“Mommy, I’m scared.” Taylor cooed.

“It’s ok baby.” Stacy said.

Andrew readjusted the pumpkin and tried again.

Ahhhh

Another distant scream seemed to vibrate out of the ground. This time the knife made a cut an inch deep.

“Stop!” Taylor shrieked, running towards the house. Stacy looked toward Andrew.”

“Is that noise coming from the pumpkin?” Stacy questioned.

“Don’t be silly, those sounds aren’t coming from the plant. I will get it.” Andrew grumbled.

Stacy turned to get Taylor back in the house listening to the continued screaming coming from outside until she entered the house. In the house, Taylor was in the living room watching Andrew cut the pumpkin.

“It’s ok. The pumpkin plant can’t feel anything.” Stacy reassured Taylor.

They watched Andrew cut the pumpkin off it’s stalk and cut a hole for the pole. The way here was something rough about him when carving the object, the way that he even held the pumpkin like a severed head caused Stacy shivers. After doing his diligence, Andrew walked back to the house and went back to work in his upstairs study, without saying a word

“So, paint time?” Stacy suggested.

“Yes!” Taylor squealed.

Stacy and Taylor went back to the yard with the paint supplies.

“He could be a friendly pumpkin. He could be a friend to the trees and birds.” Stacy suggested.

“Yes, he will be friendly! Here Mommy I did it.” Taylor said

Stacy gazed upon her child’s artwork. Perhaps it was friendly to a five year old, but to Stacy it had a creepy edge to it. The pumpkin had a bright red grin that reached half the span of the pumpkin like a clown mouth. His nose was a lopsided yellow triangle and above that were huge blue eyes with black pupils.

“Looks great sweetie.” Stacy said, trying to hide her aversion to her daughter’s artwork. Taylor seemed oblivious to Stacy's thoughts.

“Hello, Mr. Scarecrow.” Taylor chirped as Stacy hammered a post on the edge of the garden and assembled the body. When she was finished it was 3:30 in the afternoon.

“Ok Taylor, time to clean up and go in. I’m going to start dinner for Daddy now.” Stacy said.

“But I want to play with Mr. Scarecrow now. He has to have friends”. Taylor protested.

“You can be his friend tomorrow.” Stacy said handing Taylor paint supplies. Taylor sighed and started helping Stacy clean up.

That evening after dinner the family set down to watch TV. The sun was setting earlier and already at 7 o clock the inky blackness of night had set in. Having little attention for TV this week, Stacy wandered into the kitchen. Passing by her French windows, she noticed Edger the cat transfixed with the outside world.

“What is it Edger? Do you see a mouse?” Stacy said. Edger looked back at her, now seeing that he got her attention, Edger began crying to the outside.

“Stop it, there's nothing out there.” Stacy said as she put the dishes in the dishwasher.

Nevertheless, the cat began crying more and more, like Stacy had not heard before.

“What’s up with Edger?” Andrew asked.

“I don’t know.” Stacy said, grabbing a mask and shooing away the cat from the windows.

Quickly frisking the darkness with a flashlight Stacy didn’t see anything new in the lawn, but as her flashlight hit the pumpkin, for a split-second, Stacy could have sworn that the pumpkin had narrowed its eyes.

Chapter Three

Stacy

The next day, Stacy was rushing to clean the house. Taylor’s friend, Amanda, was coming over.

“Is Amanda here yet? I want to show her Mr. Scarecrow today!” Taylor announced, holding a few stuffed animals in her hand.

“Ok, but you need to get dressed in the clothes I laid out for you and brush your teeth.” Stacy said, feeling overwhelmed. Andrew went to get coffee for himself a half an hour ago and hadn't come back yet. She can’t really blame him; Amanda’s parents were not their favorite people. There was no one reason why she disliked Amanda’s parents, but they could be rude at times. Stacy just would rather prefer dealing with them and her daughter together rather than alone. Hearing a door slam, Stacy turned her attention to the street to see Amanda being dropped off by her parents at the curb. Stacy breathed a sigh of relief. At least the feelings she had toward Amanda’s parents were mutual. Amanda clamored out of the car and rang the doorbell.

“Amanda!” Taylor squealed. She still was in her pajamas.

The two jumped around the living room with a loud greeting.

“Ok Taylor, get your clothes on and you two can play outside.” Stacy said.

“Yes Mom.” Giving Stacy an exaggerated salute Taylor raced up the stairs to her bedroom.

Waiting for Taylor, Amanda went to the kitchen overlooking the backyard.

“What’s that?” Amanda asked

“That’s a scarecrow we made.” Stacy explained.

“Wow!” Amanda exclaimed, transfixed by the garden ornament.

“You can go out there and I’ll let Taylor know.” Stacy offered.

Amanda ran out to see the scarecrow, soon followed by Taylor after she got dressed. At first, Stacy watched the pair talk next to the scarecrow, but eventually they were prancing around him and playing with stuffed animals with him. Stacy noticed that the children never touched the scarecrow, and that he remained perfectly still like a statue. Stacy found it rather amusing. Of all the toys she had purchased for Taylor, a scarecrow made out of old clothes provided hours of entertainment. Andrew came back from his coffee run and helped clean the house. It was nearing the time that Amanda had to go, but Stacy still wanted to play with the kids before she left.

“Let's go play with the girls.” Stacy offered hugging Andrew.

“Sounds like fun, let’s do it.” Andrew replied, kissing her on the forehead. They walked out of the house to the lawn across the lawn where Stacy could only see the profile of the scarecrow still facing the house.

“Hey kids, do you want to jump in the leaves?” Stacy announced. More had fallen than yesterday and there was enough for a small child to jump in.

“Yeah!" Taylor and Amanda raced toward Stacy leaving their playthings near the scarecrow. They ran towards Stacy’s pile of leaves screaming with delight. Stacy looked at her watch Amanda’s mother would be here any minute.

“Girls, go get your stuffed animals, Amanda your Mom should be here any minute.” Stacy said.

“Ugg! Already? I want to stay.” Amanda protested.

“I am sure you guys can pick up where you left off next time.” Stacy said as she noticed Amanda’s mother come in the backyard, her eyes not moving off the phone that she had in her hand.

“Mommy, Mommy! I had so much fun!” Amanda cried to her mother.

“Mhmm that’s great honey. Come on, we have to go.” Amanda’s mother started giving a quick wave to Stacy’s family and then turned around.

“Mommy, I want to go inside. I don’t think that Mr. Scarecrow likes it that we are playing without him. We should probably stop”. Taylor announced.

“Nonsense, it's just a scarecrow. If you are tired, we will play more tomorrow,” Andrew said.

“Ok” Taylor said, running back to the house, very unlike a child that was tired.

“She left her animals out here." Andrew pointed out.

Stacy followed his gaze across the yard, to notice that the scarecrow’s head was turned, and his blue eyes were staring at them. She also noticed that the wide grin on his face started to run downwards, creating the appearance of cheeks making him more human-like.

“Was it turned in this direction the whole time?” Stacy asked.

“I don’t know. I wasn't paying attention. Amanda’s mother could have moved it.’ Andrew replied.

Stacy walked into the garden to get Taylor’s stuffed animals, but she could not shake the feeling of another being’s presence. She thought about it, then straightened the pumpkin’s head back facing the house. Leaving the pumpkin man in the yard, Stacy ran back into the house without making a second glance.

Back in the house, Stacy washed her hands and started making dinner as Taylor played with her Legos.

“So Taylor, how was playing with Amanda?" Stacy asked.

“We mostly talked and played with Mr. Scarecrow.” Taylor said uninterested in the conversation.

“What did he say to you?” Stacy questioned.

“Well, he said that he likes the eyes that I gave him but he still can’t see well. He said that Daddy is a bad man and he wants to take things from Daddy the way he took things from him. I didn’t understand it. I told him that Daddy was nice and that Daddy can share because sharing is good. Then we played but I think he got mad when we started playing with Daddy. That’s ok, I will play with him tomorrow.” Taylor said still focused on her Legos.

Stacy furrowed her brow.

“Well, I want you to play with Daddy as much as you can.” Stacy said. After she was done in the kitchen, Stacy balanced though the Legos to talk to Andrew.

“That was very strange stuff.” Stacy said.

“Children have a very active imagination, but if you want to take it down you can.” Andrew suggested. He was reading a book upstairs by himself, just as interested in talking to Stacy as Taylor was.

“But she's attached to it, I can’t just destroy it.” Stacy said.

“I don’t know, destroy it, leave it up. Doesn’t matter to me.” Andrew said not looking away from his book.

Feeling frustrated, Stacy left the room. It had always been like this- Andrew was reliable when it came to having fun with Taylor, but uninterested when it came to actual parenting.

Back downstairs, Taylor was still playing with her Legos, and Edger started his odd behavior of crying at the French doors. Stacy scooped up the cat and put him in the basement, too emotionally drained to deal with him. She told herself she would give the scarecrow three more days and then tell Andrew to get rid of it.

Chapter Four

Andrew

I have had nightmares of Robert Nordstrom ever since I killed him. Sometimes he is there in the corner of my mind, just staring at me with glittering blue eyes like his scarecrow stands in our yard. In my dreams when I try to destroy him he seems to take something of mine, like an eye or a limb. After killing him the dream would continue but I would live out my life suffering as an amputee or blind. These dreams led me to roam the house at night. I wanted to destroy that scarecrow, but I knew that it would take it’s revenge, if not on me than on my family. So I will just watch it for now. My hope is that he will rot into the soft earth he came out of, and I would never have to deal with Robert Nordstrom or his ghost again.

Chapter Five

Stacy

The next day the ground was encrusted in a light frost. Unable to sleep well, Stacy slept in the living room downstairs. The morning sun woke her up and Stacy looked out at the lawn. The first thing that drew her eye was Mr. Scarecrow, although there was nothing more different with him this morning that she could see from this distance other than the fact that one of his gloves came off. Suddenly she heard movement from upstairs and the sound of little feet.

“Baby, what are you doing this early?” Stacy asked.

“I had nightmares. You were not in your room.” Taylor replied, clutching one of her stuffed animals near her face.

Stacy scooped up Taylor and put her on her hip.

“It’s ok. I could not sleep either. What do you want to do today?”

“I want to talk to Mr. Scarecrow.” Taylor said pointing at the backyard.

“Let's do something else today. How about a hayride?” Stacy suggested.

“No, I want to talk to him”. Taylor protested.

“Err, ok, but only for a few minutes and then we are going to go to the hayride.” Stacy said, walking out the back yard as Taylor skipped next to her.

When they reached Mr. Scarecrow, it was obvious things had changed. His round pumpkin face had rotted away to reveal a more human-like skull making his eyes more sunken in. When Stacy put Mr. Scarecrow’s glove back on the stake she noticed that the wood on the stake decayed in the shape of a wrist. Taylor started to whimper and hide behind Stacy.

“Mr. Scarecrow is more angry today. He wants to hurt Daddy.” Taylor whispered to Stacy.

Stacy didn’t want to bother Andrew anymore during the day with the scarecrow.

“Let's go to the farm and take a hayride, then when we get back I will have Daddy talk to Mr. Scarecrow, Ok?” Stacy said.

She grabbed Taylor’s hand and guided her towards the driveway, frequently checking her back.

When they got home, it was almost sunset. Stacy quickly busied herself with dinner. As soon as the sun went down, Edgar started crying at the French windows.

“Edger, stop it.” Stacy muttered, grabbing the flashlight and pulling back the curtain. The night was bright and she could see the gleam of the scarecrow's head against the moon.

“Mommy, what's going on?” Taylor whined.

“Nothing babe. It’s just Edger. It’s time to go to bed.” Stacy scooped up Taylor and led her towards her room. Up on the second story, Stacy got Taylor ready for bed, opening the windows to let in the perfect autumn sleeping weather.

Thump Thump Thump

“Mommy, what's that? Is that Mr. Scarecrow outside?” Stacy looked out the window. It was hard to make anything out, but in the place of the pumpkin man there was only a stick left where he once stood.

‘Yes he is out there somewhere. Here go to bed now.” Stacy tucked Taylor in.

“Mommie”. Taylor whined.

“Taylor, nothing is going to get you here. Now go to bed,” Stacy ordered, giving her daughter a kiss on the cheek.

“Everything will be alright.” Stacy said, closing the door behind her. The house was well lit as Stacy walked down stairs. Grabbing a flashlight Stacy walked outside on the back porch and showed it to the dark lawn. Frisking the flashlight over the lawn Stacy now saw clearly the face of Robert Norstrum in the garden.

“Bob?” Stacy screeched, dropping the flashlight in the house. The light scattered and fell onto the floor breaking the bulb. Stacy raced back in the house and fumbled for a new flashlight in her cabinet, frequently keeping her eye on the yard behind her. Grabbing the flashlight in her hand Stacy undid the lock on the french windows and stepping out into the night, not noticing her husband watching her from the kitchen.

Chapter Six

Andrew

I heard her yell his name and run out into the dark. At this point there was no doubt that the pumpkin contorted to the shape of a man’s face though decay and now resembled a man with blue eyes, whether that man was Robert I had my doubts. Nevertheless, the scarecrow was bothering everyone in this house, so I had to do something. I did not intend on hurting Stacy as I walked slowly behind her, crowbar in my hand to destroy the creation that was on my property. It was only when I stopped a few yards away when I saw her reach out the thing and touch the pumpkin man’s rotten flesh. My mind raced as I realized that by removing Robert from the picture, it did not replace me in her heart. My wife was the precious thing that Robert took. As this occurred to me a numbness came upon me as I ran toward the scarecrow to destroy it. I must have tripped on a massive root in the yard while I was running toward her because the crowbar landed squalry on top of her head. She yelped in pain or surprise as she fell toward the scarecrow. The light was low, but I could see that she lay motionless around a thick spray of dark red liquid. There was no running from what I had done. Even if she were to be still alive, I would have to try to explain to people what happened - the police or the hospital or something. She was too far away from the house to claim that she fell from our bedrooms. Suddenly I saw vines emerging from the pumpkin wrapping around her body. I hurled the crowbar again and again at the pumpkin destroying it’s rotten grotesque face. I missed a few times creating a soggy pile of brains and pumpkin at my feet. When the task was complete I buried her in the garden and tilled in the pumpkin plant as much as I could. The next day I tilled the garden and called 911 to report a missing person. It wasn’t until Taylor woke up to discover that her mother had disappeared in the night that the thought of raising her alone came to me.

After a few years had gone by it was clear that Robert took more than my wife that day. Like my dreams, I now walk around mentally suffering and disfigured. My lawn is filled with pumpkin sprouts that I constantly hack with a fear that a pumpkin will appear again. On May 16, 2021 I thought Robert Northstorm was out of my life, but now he haunts me every day.

#writing #horror #short story #short fiction #horror writing #goosebumps #creative writing

1 note · View note

ghost-nabbers-imagines · 5 years

Note

💀 with either Sal or Larry, maybe so gets bit after saving them

I did both Sal and Larry but Larry's is written for a fem reader because I really liked the idea for his.

Sal

Considering it was the apocalypse Sal made sure you guys had plenty of supplies in the beginning to avoid confrontation with the outise and long as possible.

But of course you'd eventually have to go out and savage for more food.

He insisted on going out but you insisted on tagging along. After about an hour arguing over whether you were staying or leaving with him he finally caved. You two spent a long while going over a plan.

When it came time to go out you were both nervous but Sal more so. He really didnt enjoy being bitten by a dog let alone a zombie.

He grabbed his handgun and a machete, while you had a crossbow and a katana as well as you both having knives.

You both piled into his car and drove to the grocery store where Sal and Larry used to have part time job. Luckily the shutters were still down and the door was still covered meaning no one had been able to get in.

You guys unlocked the door pulling the can as close to the door as you could leaving the back open.

Both of you grabbed shopping carts and began making your way down the isles unloading the cart each time one got full.

You were in one of that isles grabbing as many canned goods as you could fit in the cart.

"So I'm thinking we can probably fit another cart full in after this one and then we can just leave the door open when we leave."

"Yeah good idea love we have more than enough food here. I'm gonna go grab a couple can openers since they're on the end of this isle."

He walked down a little ways while you returned your focus to the canned goods. A few minutes later you heard him yell.

"N-no not you. No!"

You flipped around to see the zombified corpse of Larry stumbling towards Sal.

He sight of him practically broke your heart. He was still dressed in his uniform of khaki pants, the blue shirt, and the neon vest with a now very faded smiley face. His clothing was tathered and dirty. Some of his hair covered his face hiding away his rotting skin. He had a chunk of flesh missing from his shoulder where he had been bitten.

Knowing that Sal wouldn't be able to kill even the corpse of his best friend you took off towards to the two shoving the cart into your old friend's corpse knocking him into the shelf.

You went to grab your knife from your packing only for it to get caught in a tear in the bag.

You struggled to pull it out only for Larry to knock you to the ground pinning you there. You felt your knife go flying in the other direction.

Larry chomped his teeth snarling above you. Sal was trembling trying to force himself to help.

You pushed with all your might trying to get the lanky corpse off of you.

Before you could move him too far you felt his teeth bite into your upper arm.

Letting out a scream you felt your flash tear between his teeth ripping a hole in your flesh. Blood poured down from the would and out of Larry's teeth.

Seeing you hurt Sal jumped into action he took one one of the cans to Larry's head knocking him off you. Once he was off Sal kept swinging till the corpse was no longer moving.

You moved your right hand to the gash in your left arm. You were bitten like for real. This was it.

"B-baby I- I'm so so sorry. This is my fault."

He crouched down to your level.

"No love it's not your fault."

Sal kissed you tears falling down his face.

"What if we cut it off?"

"That might work you dont think it's too late?"

"We have to try I'm not losing you too. I can't lose you. I can't."

He helped you move to the first aid isle laying you down on a sleeping bag hed found in the store.

You pulled off your shirt while Sal cleaned his blade with shaky hands. Once it was disinfected he gently kissed your forehead taking a deep breath.

Even though your arm was burning with pain you forced a smile.

"I love you Sal."

"I love you too."

He got ready to make the first cut but you stopped him.

"Wait wait!"

He looked at you with teary eyes confused as to why you were prolonging this further.

You painfully moved your engagement ring and wedding band over to your other hand.

He smiled weakly with a small sniffle.

"Dont wanna lose those."

He swung the machete cutting deep.

You let out a loud painful scream.

With his second hit you had fainted. Once the arm was off he began applying pressure to the wound with the sterile pads.

When you woke up you were in pain still but no fever. You reached your hand up to feel where your arm had been only to feel an empty space.

You forced your eyes open to see the ceiling of Sal's place. The place was dark telling you it was late. You could hear soft snoring coming from your side. Each snore was followed by a sad whine or sob. Sal was no doubt having a nightmare about what had happened and was crying in his sleep.

Slowly and painfully you moved your arm over to where his head was rested next to your stomach from sleeping sitting up on the floor. You moved your fingers through his soft blue locks making him stir in his sleep.

He shifted so he was sitting up. Once he rubbed the tears and sleep from his eyes he noticed you were in fact awake and not a walker.

"Love you're ok!"

"I think so babe!"

He hugged you tightly but carefully holding you close.

Larry

You two were in the middle of a run when you had gotten over run by a smaller horde.

You ducked behind a car door readying your barbed wire covered bat. At least Steve Harrington had taught you a few pointers in all those Netlfix binge sessions.

You jumped up swinging knocking one of the roaming corpses to the ground. You dodged around the body taking off in the direction of the apartments.

"(Y/n) love over here!"

You spotted Larry with his back against an overturned uhaul truck. Weaving in between cars and taking out a Walker or two you made your way to your fiance. You could feel the baby kicking in your much larger stomach hinting that he or she was just exhausted of running as you were.

You placed a hand on your growing belly taking a couple deep breaths now that you were back by your husbands side.

He hugged you placing a quick kiss on your cheek.

"We're almost home love. Just another mile or two."

You nodded but you couldn't say you were ready to run another 2 miles especially not in this weather.

After another breather you two set off again taking out a couple more of the living dead. After another few minutes you both stopped in order for you to catch your breath.

You let your back rest against a car.

As you struggled to catch your breath you felt a sharp pain Rip through your stomach. You knew for certain it was a contraction.

"Shit not now!"

"What's the matter love?"

"I think I'm in labor."

"Shit fuck! Not now! Are you sure?"

"Yea I think I can make it to the apartments."

You kept running but after a few minutes you felt a worse sharp pain making you scream out in pain leaning against a car. You grabbed onto the open window squeezing it in pain. Your water broke with this contraction.

A moment later you felt something tear into your wrist making you scream out in pain.

"No!"

Larry pushed you out of the way stabbing his knife into the skull of the Walker.

You looked down at your wrist shocked. You were bitten and in labor.

You had been bitten right at the wrist so your arm was bleeding heavily, considering the physical strain and the heat it just took everything out of you. You fainted falling right into Larry's arms.

When you woke up you were back in what looked like the apartments. You had woken up to that ceiling and poster covered wall everytime you spent the night at Lisa's place.

You could feel throbbing burning pain in both your arm and a dull burn in your stomach.

Even though it was muffled and fuzzy you could hear Larry talking to someone near by.

Once you slowly forced your eyes open completely you were met with the rest of Larry's room.

You moved your arm over feeling the space where the rest of your right arm should be.

Next you moved your hand to feel your stomach. You slowly moved Larry's Sanitys Fall shirt up tracing your stomach where there was a giant stiched up wound.

"She has her moms eyes."

"I know shes beautiful just like her mom. Wait till she wakes up and meets you kid. You're gonna love her. And she's gonna love you so fucking much."

"Want me to hold her while you go check on (y/n)?"

"Sure. Here (daughter name) go see grandma for a minute."

A moment later the door opened up to an exhausted looking Larry.

His eyes were sad and tired his hair a mess. His hands were slightly still colored red from what you could assume was your blood.

Once he saw you were awake he jumped to your side.

"Holy Fuck knuckle love you're awake!"

"What happened?"

He stroked your hair moving it from your face while holding your hand.

"You got bit and we. We were so far from home. I -i had no choice. I c-cut it off and carried you the rest of the way. You weren't conscious to push but thankfully that doctor Morrison showed mom and Todd how to do a c section just in case before he left."

Larry let a few tears fall down his cheek as he talked.

"So the baby is ok?"

"Not only is she ok but she's so beautiful and happy already."

"Can I see her?"

Larry got up kissing you sweetly before going to the door and calling his mom in.

She came in smiling handing you your daughter.

"Shes beautiful."

"I told you just like you."

"Fortunately for her she pulls off Larry's nose a lot better than he does."

"Fuck off little dude!"

Everyone shared a laugh happy that everyone was ok.

Later that night you two laid in bed the baby between you both wide awake Larry's arm draped over both you.

"I love you so much. I was so scared I was gonna lose you."

"I love you too Larry. You saved me. Both of us really."

"I cant take all the credit. You fought for keeping our baby alive even if you didnt know you were doing it. I need you to do me a favor ok?"

"Sure what lar bear?"

"That you won't go out as much anymore. I need you safe and she needs at least one of us alive. At least take it easy for a little while even after you've healed."

"Ok love I'll try."

He leaned forward kissing you then your daughters head.

Lex💛

27 notes · View notes

sirro85-blog · 5 years

Text

Dark Horses 3

Becca felt a bead of sweat run down her face and felt it run onto her top lip, as she panted heavily it must have caught on her breath because she saw the drop fly though the air. Out of options she fell backwards and rolled desperately to her left kicking out, there was a solid connection and her on rushing attacker stumbled, Becca had a moments glimpse of an exposed jaw as both arms shot out to break their fall, she snapped out a heel and felt the crack as it made connection.

"Fucking lucky!" Yelled Sergeant Knickers from the edge of the ring as Petra jumped up to check on Barbie.

"No kidding, shit she's fast," Becca lay flat on her back gasping for breath, "I need to stop relying on being taller than all of you."

"Yes, you do," said Kovac, "you need to remember what are stopping blows and what are just pointless combatives that look pretty."

"Like you're a shining beacon of variety Mr I'll-just-punch-them-into-submission. Get in the ring and show me something that isn't counter striking," Panther jeered vaulting the ropes and beckoning Kovac.

"Hardly a fair fight, I've got damn near a foot in height on you and I'm probably twice your weight, not sure this is gonna prove much," Kovac said waving her off. "Besides I've proven it repeatedly, I can't hit girls, I remember those nuns who raised me and I can't do it."

"If we get Dorman down later?" Asked Becca.

"Oh him I'll hit," Kovac agreed, "sergeant-major, a word," he called to Panther.

"Wolf has been in touch, Fluke has successfully defended three transports. It shouldn't come as a surprise that it's the Galax. Its always a smash and grab job, any organised defence and they give up." Kovac said as he walked down the hallway, Panther having to scurry a little to keep up.

"Wolf has asked if a second troop can join him, I'm going to go out to the Towoli and take a look at the situation with the Bartuq. 2 Troop will accompany me and Gilly's aux troop is going to go out and get set up. Dorman and 3 Troop will stay here and move out to assist Wolf if necessary." Kovac pushed open his door and gave his sergeant-major a nod.

"Yes sir, And you want me to..." Panther felt her voice have a slight upwards inflection as she spoke annoyed at her uncertainty.

"To oversee all this and keep it off my desk sergeant-major."

The door closed, Panther cursed inwardly, this new position kept overwhelming her, she had served under Kovac to one degree or another for over 10 years now but this was the closest she had ever worked with him and suddenly she found him intimidating and found herself unsure around him.

Panther was heading for her office when she met Knickers, the taller woman was looking the other way as she approached and in profile the thin cheeks and slender nose made her seem particularly striking, as she so often did Panther's eyes traced the scars on Knicker's forearms.

"Sir," Knickers turned to Panther, "the captain said you'd have orders."

"Yes, 2 Troop will be heading out to the Towoli with the Major, as will 4 Troop, the auxiliaries, let Staff Frank know will you?"

"First deployment, uhh, any advice?" Knickers asked.

"Talk to the captain if you have any questions and rely on your section commanders and their 2IC, remember your job is to see them do their job, not do it for them and don't worry, you were given this job for a reason," Panther realised she should take her own advice.

Wolf nodded as Dorman entered the room, he gestured at the table and said, "you get a look at the plans on the journey?"

"Yeah, looks solid, we can probably push through their defences before you swing in, means it makes more sense for you to roll up behind us and break their centre." Dorman said.

"If you think so, you'll need to hammer them in that first assault though, we need to be amongst them before they know it or they'll rabbit."

"You worry about drawing them in, let me worry about the attack," Dorman replied, "Now, more importantly, did you know Sharon was married!?"

Wolf stared at his friend for a few moments and closed his eyes, "dude..." he said his voice pained, "in three months she never once had you round to hers, she had a patch of lighter skin on one finger and never used her communications when around you." Wolf stared into middle distance, "I think at this point bud, just assume you're catnip to bored, married women."

"I swear I'm not looking for married women!" Dorman said rather pathetically in Wolf's opinion.

"Look, I don't know what to tell you, maybe ask them outright? You're not the sort of guy who wants to date married women, you're not amoral...you're not Kovac but you are gonna get your ass shot if you keep sleeping with these women, especially on Pelcar-3."

"That's a bit hard on Kov, dude wasn't intentionally sleeping with married women," Dorman said.

"No he just slept with anyone he could and didn't care...Look at some point the five of us will sit down with some drinks and we can argue the right and wrong of sleeping with married people and we can all laugh at Becca as she ties herself in knots trying to justify being the other woman to both the husband and wife but as far as I'm concerned if you know someone's married they should be off limits. Now, are your troop ready to start a dry run or do you want some time?"

Dorman had a few more moments of looking wretched, "No it's fine I'll dig Sergeant Webb out and we'll start an exercise."

Sergeant Glover didn't like it when his men had to stop being soldiers, he had no regrets in the choices he had made in his life and he would always be proud of the loyalty in his heart but when soldiers turned mercenaries were asked not just to take off uniform but to start playing sneaks he was unhappy. That being said, Captain Wolf's plan was sound and more importantly Major Kovac had signed off on it.

"Ty, Costa you two are no longer soldiers but that doesn't give either of you leave to carry bowie knives on your damn belt," Webb snapped.

"Interestingly sir did you know that the bowie knife was named for the man who carried it not it's creator and the man it was named for may have been mostly fiction infact..." Ty began but was cut off by Sergeant Webb.

"Not now damn it Ty, a bayonet is enough, who needs so many damn blades?"

Sergeant Glover watched this exchange and knew the response before it came.

"Major Kovac carries karambit knives and so does Captain Wolf, I've seen Captain Becca carry 3 or 4 Wasp axes," Costa started up, "Not to mention Corpo I mean Sergeant Knickers carrying..."

Webb cracked his fist into the table top, his voice cold and hard, "when the operation is over, you will come to me and we will discuss the addition of equipment to your standard issue, until that time, take off the damn blades."

Glover knew this would happen, once you left the army rules were harder to maintain, order could be lost. His own men knew that to carry a non-issue weapon they had to prove they knew how to use it which is why most carried a bayonet and why the captain carried a BC-41 and a push dagger on top of the karambit knives the men knew about.

Webb joined him shaking his head, "I dunno Fluke, why do they all want to be Rumble? What's that stupid phrase the SM says?"

Glover winced at the mispronounced name, "it's Rambo, and the SM says "guns for a show, knives for a pro."

Webb shook his head again and glared at Ty and Costa, "If those two weren't my best I'd kill them and bury their bodies to save me my misery."

"Problem is Captain Dorman finds 'em funny," Fluke said as close as he'd ever get to criticising the commissioned officers he'd grown to trust.

Webb grunted and started to move off, "Fluke once we're in you'll need to come hard to keep the roll going."

Glover nodded, certain things didn't need saying in his opinion.

Wolf watched as the raider vessels came alongside the freighter, for the first time since he'd started defence they were able to pull alongside and dock. Within minutes they were on-board and moving deck to deck. Timing in his head, Wolf guessed that Glover must have moved into position, he signalled Dorman that 1 Troop were on the move.

The transmitter chirruped as Wolf's message arrived, "alright!" Dorman shouted, "the raiders are engaged, time to take out their bolt hole before they know it's engaged."

3 Troop were moving quickly, Dorman pulled his men forward while 3 section dropped back with Sergeant Webb, this first part needed to be quick and quiet.

Wolf watched as Fluke and his section sprang the trap, the Galax raiders had fallen back towards their vessels as soon as the Dark Horses had engaged, and now as they neared them Fluke - already secured their ships - struck from the rear cutting through their numbers.

The second message from Wolf confirmed they were on route, Dorman gave the command and his men launched their assault. The design of the Galax position meant that the only way in was a frontal assault but human weapons and munitions should blast through the entrance and then it should be a case of room to room and making sure the Galax couldn't escape with their equipment to continue raiding, in those close quarters the Dark Horses training should do the job.

Dorman watched as Gray led his fire team forward and placed detonators. In position now Dorman saw no point in delaying, he gave the signal.

Wolf willed the distance to close as they sped towards the Galax position, now they had engaged he had more doubts about allowing them to assault in two waves, as they slowed he sprang from his seat, Fluke moving too. They found a young riflewoman at the breach, alone.

"Mfene, isn't it?" Wolf asked, "where's your dual?" Soldiers were never left isolated like this in combat.

"Ito is inside, went in to protect the medics sir," Mfene answered.

"The medics are inside!?" Wolf bit back a curse and ran forward.

The Galax compound was basic in its layout, built into a cliff face it had a high fortified wall that Dorman had breached with a centre compound filled with the Galax raiding vehicles, behind which three tunnels ran off, the centre tunnel was known to be more heavily fortified. Dorman's men were supposed to be in the left and right tunnels but possibly a third of them were engaged in a firefight with the centre tunnel defences.

Wolf pulled up as he scanned the fight, Dana and the other medics were in one corner they seemed to have half a dozen patients, two Riflemen stood guard over them. By all evidence the remaining soldiers were in the two other tunnels.

"Banjarjee take two section and sweep the two outer tunnels, O'Shea with me, clear the outer defences of the central tunnels, Flowers, 3 section should be prepared to provide fire support. GO!"

O'Shea ran forward, Wolf close behind him, as they reached the combatants Wolf signalled to Sergeant Webb who gestured his acknowledgement of the plan and had his men pull away from the centre, smoke grenades and other ordinance sailed through the air and with a roar the men of 1 troop launched themselves into the tunnel.

The fight was bloody but over quickly, the injury count was less following the second wave but still over a dozen troopers were needing medical treatment back on base.

Little was said as the Galax vehicles were destroyed and their weapons confiscated. With the loss of their attack vehicles the surviving Galax would be arrested by local authorities and usually moved on to less criminal activities provided no other raiders tried to recruit them.

The journey back to Pelcar-3 was subdued, word passed that Kovac and 2 Troop had returned following the officers reports from the Galax engagement.

Once returned to the Dark Horses compound Wolf pulled his men to a debrief in a separate corner leaving 3 troop to handle their own injured and return certain kit to stores. Dorman was checking weapons back into the lockers when the Quartermaster approached him.

"When you're done here Hero, the Major wants to see you in his office," the derision in her voice was stronger than normal.

"I'll be there after I've checked on my men in med-bay," Dorman replied, not looking up.

"I'd avoid Staff King right now Hero, and I'd not be late for Kovac, I believe it's an interview without coffee," growled the Qm.

Dorman stared after her as around him a slight muttering spread among the men, turning to his sergeant Dorman asked Webb to take over the checking off.

Ten minutes later Dorman knocked on Kovac's door, for once closed. Inside Kovac sat behind his desk, unusual for a man who tended to sit on his desk as often as use it.

"You changed the plan, I understand it was your choice though Captain Wolf was at pains to tell me he agreed." Kovac didn't greet his captain.

"Yes sir, I assessed the enemy's strengths and concluded my troop capable of the task, which they were, I believe we would have been successful with or without the support of 1 Troop."

"You believe...this isn't 1914 Captain, we don't measure success by numbers dead, them more than us? Oh it's a victory. You believe..."

"I believed my men capable of..."

"You believed," said Kovac raising his voice for the first time as he stood up, "The hype, you believed our own propaganda," Kovac put on a sing-song voice, "Humans we're bigger, badder, rougher and tougher, believe me brother their ain't no other," his voice changed to one high and clear with careful enuncuation, "hard to stop and impossible to kill the human is a deathworlder that is capable of preternatural feats," Kovac's voice returned to normal, "damn it Dorman, you behaved like...like we're damn space orcs, expendable in numbers and unbreakable to boot, we may sell ourselves to the galaxy as the interstellar hobgoblin but we know different, we're professional and highly trained. That was bloody amateur hour."

Kovac took a long breath, and sitting down, "Dorman you're a good officer but you have a tendency to think you can do it all, and at times that's good, but you cannot put my men's lives on the line like that again. I would suggest you pay the injured soldiers bonus from your own pocket and a sizeable donation to the fund would be advisable. If you're feeling particularly contrite perhaps letting Wolf punch your teeth out in the ring would be a good idea?"

Dorman looked as though he wanted to reply but stopped himself, he nodded and turned to leave then stopped, "I'm sorry sir, I know you hate your men getting injured, I genuinely believed it was a smart play."

Kovac sighed, "I know you did mate, find that balance between impulse and hesitancy, remember to take a breath and re-evaluate and you'll be a great leader of men. Better angels and all that."

Dorman nodded and left the room.

#humans are space australians #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #space faerie #space australia #space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #earth is a deathworld #this is why i call kovac daddy #kovac #dark horses

60 notes · View notes

wonderlandmind4 · 5 years

Text

Delicate Stages Drabbles: 19

Just Feel...

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Summary: Drabbles following Delicate Stages. Looking into the life of Bucky and Ana.

Warnings: Language. Feels. Fluff if you squint. Violence. Angst.

Words: 3,026

A/N: (I accidentally deleted the first posted because tumblr is mean) Hi. So. Here it is….the beginning of the end…game….(Do not read unless you’ve read Delicate Stages first)

Wakanda is a beautiful country; filled with stunning sunsets, hidden hot springs, open fields and a general peacefulness over its people. It shouldn’t be colored with the violence that is currently happening below Ana as she stands in front of the window. From the top floor of the Lab, the fighting looks morbidly comically, just little specks running around the landscape.

Tremors of chaotic energy have singed through every fiber of Ana’s body for the past hour. Her bottom lip is raw from how often her teeth has been gnawing on it. The heaviness of anxiety is nearly palpable throughout the room, although it’s overtaken with her own feelings of distress.

Her husband is out there, armed with just a few knives and a semi-automatic rifle, and every piece of her heart. Bucky is putting his life on the line for the fate of the universe, despite how tired he is of war. Ana isn’t. Instead, she’s attempting to ignore how her skin prickles ominously, faint tendrils of charged power.

Ana has no way of communicating with Bucky. She wasn’t given a COM and she highly suspects Bucky requested it. The lingering warmth of his energy is all the connection she has with him. It’s not enough to settle her nerves. She glances over her shoulder at Shuri and Vision; the 3D hologram of the Mind Stone intricately worked on. The young girl’s expression is stoic as she concentrates, deft fingers moving rapidly. Vision is perfectly still, watching her work with curious eyes. Wanda idles nearby, picking at her nails. She’s been mostly silence, adding to the stress of the time sensitive issue.

Fleeting, Ana wonders if she should reach out her empathic healing to at least settle some of Wanda’s anxiety. But Ana is barely holding her own together as it is. She presses her left hand to chest, feeling the cool metal of her wedding band against what’s exposed of her skin above her shirt. Stabs of panic shoots through her heart, makes nausea curl hotly in her stomach.

Wincing, she moves her hand over her navel, squeezing her eyes shut and grinding her teeth. She tries taking slow, deep breaths to calm herself. Bucky is all she can think about. What is happening? Is he in trouble? Is he hurt? Does he need help? Is he-

A quiet gasp snaps Ana out of her thoughts. She glances at Wanda, her eyes wide and staring out the window. Following her gaze, Ana’s spine goes rigid. Several giant alien ships, with wheels that looks like a rotating saws, are attempting to break through the barrier. Twenty seconds later, the barrier fails. Ana quickly meets Wanda’s eyes.

There’s a split second where they just stare at each other, then Wanda shoots a regretful look over her shoulder at Vision. When she looks at Ana again, they nod at the same time, and newfound determination settles between them.

Ana twists her rings on.

They are surrounded. It’s been like that since a section of the barrier was opened; one right after one, after ten. A non-stop on slaughter of the six limb Space Dogs, as that trigger-happy talking Raccoon called them. Bucky keeps his eye on him ever since he picked him up and used him as valued support, showering bullets and lasers alike. He figures he’d keep him close by in case he needs help again. No matter how many times the little guy continues to barter for his gun...and his arm. Honestly, Bucky would probably just give his arm to him after this is all over for free. That might be met with violent protests; especially from his wife.

Bucky has just fired a string of bullets into the next wave of terrifying, ugly aliens, and for a split moment he takes a breath. It’s short lived when one of the creatures ambushes him, or attempts to, dashing out from the thick of the forest. He shoots it down but doesn’t account for the next two. They come at him incredibly fast, snarling and snapping their long sharp teeth, but even quicker they fall to the ground, dead. Bewildered, Bucky peers down at them to see two long knifes lodged through their necks.

Turning, he expects to see Natasha, or the little Raccoon. What he’s met with instead makes his heart swell, then seize in terror. His wife is casually leaning against a tree, twirling another knife expertly between her fingers. Ana looks like she’s at a practicing range instead of a violent battle field.

“Glad to see my skills are up to par,” She smirks mischievously, her pretty brown and gold eyes glittering in the sunlight. It warms his heart.

There’s a pale golden shimmer dancing along her entire body. Bucky doesn’t allow himself to feel relieved that she’s at least protected by the rings. He surveys their surroundings first, then marches over to her, pointing his gun down toward the sky.

“What the hell are you doing here!?” Bucky hisses at her. He has an urge to touch her, his fingers twitching, but if he does, the force field will knock him back and drain a good amount of his life energy.

“Helping you.” Ana states defiantly, as she twists the rings off and the glow vanishes. “We couldn’t stay in the Lab, Bucky. Not after those ships broke through.” Her lips tilt down. “The minute Wanda left they attacked, went after Vision. Either way I would have fought.”

Bucky nods, now able to pull her behind a tree to shield them from sight. He wraps his metal arm around her shoulders, pressing a quick kiss to her eyebrow, and reveling in the comforting scent of her. Still doesn’t stop his heart from racing.

“Why am I not surprised,” He mumbles against her skin. His eyes are continuously scanning the area behind her. “I just need you to be safe.”

“Bucky, I can fight, and right now I don’t think there is a safe place. Anywhere.”

Her voice shakes a little at the end. It makes him set down his rifle against a tree before bringing her in close with both arms. Bucky can’t risk this. He can’t risk everything Ana holds for him; his life, his happiness, his future. He exhales heavily, sliding his hands down her arms to her waist. He presses his thumbs on either side of her hipbones, just over the beginning of her scars. He kisses her furiously, prying her lips open and tasting every ounce of emotions, of Ana.

She sinks her hand into his tangled sweat damp hair, pulling him closer and sighing softly. He swallows it, wants to distract her enough to bring her home. To make sure she’s out of the line of fire, out of the fight entirely. He’ll never tell her how close he was to having dozens of razor-sharp teeth ripping out his throat. It’s too dangerous, but he knows his defeat when it comes to his wife. Self-preservation is something Ana has always lacked, but he loves every single part of her.

“Stay hidden,” He commands quietly, after breaking their kiss. He presses his forehead to hers. “Fight in the shadows. I can’t lose you.” He rubs soothing circles into her stomach with his thumbs; he felt the strange wave of nausea earlier too.

“You won’t. I’ll be careful,” Ana whispers, holding his face between her hands. A gentle warmth seeps throughout his bones, a promise. “I love you. I’ll watch your back.”

Ignoring all the warning signs screaming that this is a horrible idea, Bucky kisses her once more. “I love you, too, Annie Doll.”

Then he’s releasing her, picking his gun back up. He pulls another knife from his thigh holster, handing it to her. She nods, winks, then quickly moves into a thick patch of bushes. Bucky tampers down his fear, then returns to the fight.

The air is thick with kinetic energy. Ana inhales deeply, pulling it out of the air, gathering the force of energy between her hands. She feels the charge of it hot against her palms, hears the animalistic sounds of those hideous aliens. She waits with anticipation, until the creatures are right where she wants them. Then she shoves her hands against a loose boulder, sending it flying with the kinetic energy. It smacks right into the three aliens, crushing them against a larger wall of rock.

More wet, snapping sounds alert Ana to the aliens behind her. Spinning, she pulls out the glock she found in the Lab, firing a perfect shot straight through the creature’s eye. It drops to the ground. Another follows immediately, Ana firing, but misses as the alien dodges the bullets. Instead, she’s quick to grab the knife Bucky handed her, jerking her hand forward. The blade slices perfectly through its neck, the alien falling dead next to its kind.

A figure shifts out of the corner of her eye, Ana throwing several smaller knives at three other aliens. She ends the last four of them by thrusting her hands out. One barely touches her palms before a bright, burning light engulfs its body. She feels the foreign life force of the alien before it falls, dead. Pulling back her arms, she shoves them forward once more. A force of burning energy releases from her palms, piercing through the aliens bodies.

Blinking, Ana straightens, feeling a little out of breath, but otherwise perfectly fine. She surveys the ground, realizing she’s standing in the middle of a morbid circle, lifeless ugly alien bodies on the ground.

“Gross,” She grimaces to herself as she pulls Bucky’s knife out of a jugular.

She hurriedly goes about collecting the other small knives, cleaning them on her black pants. She ignores what she is exactly cleaning off and makes a mental note to not tell Bucky how close she had to be to drain the alien’s life. It’s that split second distraction that nearly costs her own.

That horrible alien noise comes from behind her. She’s too slow as she raises her hands, the alien within two feet of her before there’s a bright blue light over her left shoulder. It abruptly crumbles to the ground. Startled with confusion, Ana turns to see who just saved her.

Surprisingly her savior isn’t Bucky, or Steve, not even Wanda who has disappeared elsewhere. Instead, a smaller body holding what looks like a laser gun, is standing there with a satisfied smirk. Ana doesn’t even question why there seems to be a raccoon with a gun half its size in Wakanda.

“Thanks,” Ana nods in appreciation, sticking the last of the smaller knives into her belt. She surveys the area quickly before meeting the his gaze again. She pushes aside strays hairs loose from her braid. “Cool gun.”

“Neat trick you got there,” He tells her, with a voice deeper than Ana imagined. “What is it, some kind of plasma energy force?”

“You know, I’m not entirely sure. Let’s go with, yes.”

A frustrated yelp that sounds suspiciously like Bucky pulls her attention away. Ana hurriedly climbs on a fallen tree branch, enough of a height boost to see Bucky through a clearing. He’s just finished yanking his left fist back from under an alien’s chin, knife clutch in his hand, the blade bloody. Ana pulls her gun back out, aiming for a moment, then squeezes the trigger, the bullet penetrating through the oddly shaped head of the creature.

Bucky looks over, raising his knife and has the audacity to smirk. “Thanks, my darling spouse!”

Exasperated, she rolls her eyes. “Told you I got your back! Gotta work on your rusty skills, Snowflake. ”

“Not all of my skills are rusty, sweetheart,” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, then takes off running towards more trees.

“I swear, always in the mist of a fight and he still flirts,” Ana grumbles, but she can’t keep the smile of her face as she comes down from the rock.

“Huh,” The raccoon speaks up, his dark eyes glittering with interest as he appraises her. “Think your husband will sell his gun to me?”

“Most likely not.”

“How about his arm?”

Ana pauses, flashing a coy smile at him. “Possibly, but I love it way too much.” She winks before she takes off to find more coverage to stay hidden.

“I like her!” The raccoon’s amused voice echoes behind her.

There’s a small window of rest, the waves of aliens having ceased since Thor continued to use his new weapon. Flexing her fingers from the feeling of his leftover powers, Ana uses what she can to morph the air around her. She may be able to convey an encouraging force to everyone within 100 yards. She catches Sam’s eye from the distance, who nods and salutes her in gratitude. Then, she decides to find Bucky.

The sounds of his gunfire stopped echoing through the forest several minutes ago and she hasn’t seen him since. Ana opens her mouth to call out to him- then instantly chokes, clutching her chest with vice fingers. It feels like a freight train pierced through her chest, her heart constricting for a few terrifying moments.

Ana’s breath sticks in her throat as she looks to her right. Nothing is there, but it’s coming, she can feel it. Backing and stumbling away from a spot ten feet in front of her, she quickly retreats behind a tree, leaning on it for support. Whatever energy that is gathering is making it difficult to breathe.

The air shifts, the leaves fluttering chaotically in the wind that just picked up. There’s nothing but the rustle of the trees, the stirring of the dirt. Eerily quiet; like an eye of a hurricane.

Wind suddenly pulls towards an invisible vortex of gray clouds in one spot. A bright blue light appears, electric currents racing through black fog. It makes the hairs on Ana’s arms stand on end; makes her blood sing with an incredible surge of power.

Then, he appears, emerging from the blue gray smoke. Thanos.

“Cap,” Bruce speaks up in the short distance, his voice low and determined. “That’s him.”

Ana barely hears what Steve says in return, the rushing of blood in her ears too loud. She’s too busy attempting to regulate her breathing, to keep herself from being crippled by the immense amount of power. She needs…she needs Bucky. Bucky can help her. She needs…her rings. She had only turned them off again to help Natasha up after a brutal scuffle with an alien. Shakily, Ana twists her rings on, the immediate relief of energy around her stabilizing.

She straightens up, finally able to breath properly. She peaks around the trunk of the tree, just in time to witness the action in front of her. Banner in the Hulk-Bluster suit sprints towards the intimidating Titan. The giant man clenches his fist with the golden glove, blue light emitting from a stone. Ana gaps as Bruce phases right through him, rolling on the ground. Thanos traps him against a boulder, fusing the rocks over the suit.

Appearing out of nowhere, Steve attacks, proving futile. With one swipe of his hand, he sends Steve flipping through the air, landing heavily on the ground. T’Challa ambushes an attack, jumping to gain higher ground. Thanos grabs him by the jugular before punching him hard in the face, knocking him to the dirt despite the Black Panther suit absorbing blow. Sam tries swooping in, firing his guns, but it’s useless. Thanos swats him out of the air like a fly.

Ana raises her hands, ready to attack from behind, when other wave of power hits her once more. Distracted, she moves around the tree, watching as Wanda begins to destroy the Mind Stone in Vision’s forehead. It’s too much.

It’s all too much. The rings barely feel like they’re working; she can feel everything. The unprecedented energies from each separate stone. From Thanos wielding that energy. To the residue from the earlier fighting. Wanda’s powers and her emotional turmoil; heartbreaking anguish.

Colonel Rhodes follows behind Sam, coming in hot. He too, is tossed to the side like a speck of dust. The mad Titan has barely touched anyone. Through the mist of everything, Ana closes her eyes, focusing everything into her center. Once she’s got most of it tamed, her eyes snap open, looking for a way to surprise the purple prick.

His glove. The gauntlet. Remove the gauntlet from his hand. If she angles herself just right, she may be able to blast the damn thing off with an energy beam. Unfortunately, she doesn’t get a chance.

Horror constricts her heart as she watches Bucky sprint full sped at Thanos, firing his gun with precision at him. Ana nearly screams his name, ready to aid her husband. Then the titan clenches his fist, a bright purple light emitting from the glove. It hits Bucky in the chest, slamming him hard into the ground. He lands close to Ana, who soundlessly rushes to him, dropping to her knees as she quickly turns the rings off.

“Bucky!? Bucky? Oh god, please be okay,” She pleads, fear making her fingers tremble as she grips his arms. He groans, slow to get up, but turns to face to her. Relief floods through her veins.

“Goddamnit!” He growls, fingers digging in the dirt. His blue eyes are full of anger, melting away the moment he meets her gaze. He offers her the tiniest quirk of a smile, pushing himself to his knees with her help. There’s a bit of blood at the corner of his mouth that she wipes away with her thumb, then on her pants.

“M’fine, Ana,” Bucky breathes, lifting his dirty hand to push the stray hairs away from her face. “Get the hell out of here. Now.”

Ana is about to furiously protest, absolutely refuse to leave her husband, her friends, as they get thrown around effortlessly like crumpled paper. But then she catches sight of Steve, running at Thanos as he advances towards Wanda and Vision. He slides underneath his arm, stands, landing a few punches. He loses his new shields in the process.

Bucky turns with confusion, until his shoulders tense, his body growing rigid. They both watch as Thanos thrusts his gloved hand towards Steve. He catches it with is bare hands. Ana has a horrible feeling this isn’t going to end well. And she knows with a heavy dreading thought, that she can officially end it. Not just blasting the glove off, no. She can end Thanos.

Taking advantage of Bucky’s distraction, Ana stands with a final resolve. She turns the rings on once more, clenching her fists. All her energy, every once of energy she had been collecting, positive, negative, charged, kinetic, surges through her. She gathers what she can take from the sheer presence of the stones, hot and heavy from the air for more amped power. Ana sprints pass Bucky, just as Steve is punched solidly in the head, knocked out cold.

She ignores Bucky’s cries of desperation, begging her to stop. Instead, she takes a page from Steve’s book, and slides. She skids under and between Thanos’ legs, popping up and twisting forward. It’s a clear element of surprise to the Titan, surprise on his grimacing face that gives her the split moment she needs.

Wasting no time, Ana thrusts both hands at his chest, shooting her powers into him. Inhaling, she pulls internally, attempting to at least drain some of his energy. She feels it burning through her veins, wonders if her skin is on fire, the white-hot searing of his energy boiling beneath her palms. Ana grits her teeth, vaguely aware she’s growling in exertion. Thanos stumbles forward, but she holds her ground, locking her knees and continues to concentrate on taking his life force.

“Impressive, child.”

Ana barely registers the taunting deep voice, opening her eyes just in time to see Thanos raise his gloved fist. As quick as the flashing of light around them, Ana switches her target. She catches his hand in hers. She changes gears, beginning to pull from the stones themselves.

That’s the real issue here. The power of the Stones. Her right hand slips slightly, her fingers grazing over the stone embedded in the last knuckle of the glove. She yelps, either from pain or the new surge of power coursing through her. The once golden light surrounding them, slowly morphs to orange around her body.

Thanos sneers. He clenches the gauntlet, closing his fist and yanking his hand back. Abruptly, the connection breaks, stealing the air from Ana’s lungs with it. She can’t catch her breath now, despite Thanos stumbling and heaving. She doesn’t hesitate, throwing her arms forward, attempting to send out an energy blast.

Suddenly, Ana’s feet are whipped up from the ground. An invisible force wraps around her body before she’s thrown to the side, heading straight towards a wall of rock. Her back slams into the boulder, a deafening crack echoing behind her.

She doesn’t feel the blow of the impact, just feels the soft ground as dropped on, disorientated on her hands and knees. The rings shield must’ve protected her, absorbed most of the force. Still, Ana feels utterly winded, exhaustion threatening to weigh down her bones. At least the rings saved her from serious injuries…possibly even her life.

Ana attempts to get up but she’s breathless, her energy making her waver and she kneels to the ground, trying to press her hands to her chest. She feels like her blood is singing with power, a new power. A strange, unknown power that’s keeping her rooted to the spot.

Weakly, she lifts her head to see Thanos advancing towards Wanda. She moves one arm behind her, blasting her power at full force to hold Thanos back. It seems to be working, Wanda using her powers to her full ability.

All Ana can do is watch from the sideline, willing herself to just move already. An invading thought, a cold chilling terror overcomes her for a moment, but before she can panic and check for a major injury, a heavy thud lands next to her.

“Annie! Fuck, are you okay!? Are you hurt!?” Bucky frantically questions, hands hovering over her shimmering body. “Darling, answer me, please.”

His voice, weighed with concern, fear, warmth, refills her lungs. She gasps, as if whatever was choking her vanished with her husband’s presence. She feels a flood of relief wash over her heart, from Bucky. Regulating her breathing, focusing on the air entering and exiting her lungs, Ana finally gathers her strength back. Enough to twist off the rings. Immediately, Bucky’s comforting hands are on her back, running along the length of her body, checking for injuries.

“What the fuck were you thinking, baby?” He murmurs. Ana catches the tremor in his voice.

Before she can even open her mouth to answer him, there’s a sudden shout, a blinding light, and an explosion of power. The strong blast knocks Ana and Bucky back, landing a good distance away from each other. Disorientated once more, Ana groans as she sits up.

“No.”

A horrified whisper makes Ana lift her eyes. She landed close to Steve, who just seems to be getting up from that blow he took from Thanos. His eyes are locked on the scene in front of him, causing Ana to follow his line of sight. Her panic is silent as she watches Thanos use the green stone to reverse what Wanda just did. He brings back Vision.

It all happens so fast. The mind Stone is ripped away as he careless drops Vision’s lifeless body. It’s placed on the last and final space on the glove. The strongest surge of power overtakes the titan, now equipped with all six Infinity Stones. Right then, the air crackles with lightning. A blinding stream of light, then, Thor is shoving his ax through Thano’s chest.

For a moment, for one short, beautiful moment, Ana thinks it’s all over. That they won. Thor pushing the blade of his ax further into that psycho’s chest. The moment is gone when Thanos raises his gloved hand, and snaps. Thor shouts. Bright light flashes, temporary blinding everyone.

The light fades. The smell of burning metallic taints the air. A moment passes.

“What did you do!?” Thor demands furiously. “What did you do!?”

Using the power of a stone, Thanos disappears.

Everything is silent afterwards. Eerily so. It’s as if all the oxygen has left Wakanda. Ana stands shakily. The universe feels tilted, off. Her spine goes rigid. It’s like ice is seeping throughout her bones, chilling her to the core. Energy on a giant scale seems to drain from her body, as if someone just pulled a plug.

She stares at her hands for a moment, wondering where it is coming from. Something is wrong. Her left hand has gone numb. A foreign tingling sensation begins to burn at her fingertips. She feels utter bemusement through her chest.

A sharp gasp is ripped from her throat. It felt like an invisible fist just punched through her heart. Her hands fly to her chest. She doesn’t understand, can’t figure out what that was. She just suddenly feels like half of her life energy is leaving her.

“Steve?”

Ana knows that voice from miles away; Bucky. There is perplexity in his tone, an underlining of fear. She turns, spotting him walking towards them, his gun pointing in the air.

“Annie?”

Frowning, she takes a step forward as Bucky looks down at his left hand. His fingers abruptly morph into a murky color. All breath ceases in Ana’s throat as her body grows cold. Her eyes widen in terror.

Bucky’s metal fingers crumble right before their very eyes. Ashy dark pieces begin to break apart his legs. His entire left arm starts to fade away, the gun falling from his right hand as he tries taking a staggering step towards them. His gray-blue, panic-stricken eyes snap to Ana.

“No.” She whispers, horrified.

Ana swears her heart halts in her chest as she reaches out towards him. She shuffles forward, one foot after the other, willing herself to move quicker. She breaks into a jog. Bucky’s entire body is fading into gray, disintegrating right before her very eyes.

If she can get to him, if she can catch him, maybe just maybe, if she can touch him, she can save him, keep him together. Just as Ana dives on her knees, Bucky collapses, his body crumbling into a cloud of dust, her fingers grasping at fading particles.

No.

Her heart disintegrates.

“B-Bucky?” She breathes, voice trembling.

Her hands shake violently as she stares at them covered in what looks like ashes. She can’t- she doesn’t- she lowers her hand onto the pile on the ground, fingerings digging into the soil. She doesn’t even register Steve kneeling next to her, his bruised, bloody hand grazing the spot between them.

Bucky. Where did Bucky go?

“I,I,I can’t- feel,” Ana stutters inaudible. “I can’t f-feel you. Bucky...I c-can’t feel…I can’t feel you.”

The air around her vanishes, conceding with her chest. She briefly glances up, just to see that walking and talking tree creature reach out towards the talking raccoon. The tree fades away into the air. Wanda clutching a lifeless Vision in her arms quietly vanishes.

No.

Startled cries begin to taint the air. Worried, scared voices calling out names. Ana hears nothing but the shattering of her soul. Her eyes snap back to her hands sinking into the earth where Bucky should be. Bucky should be in front of her. Ana suddenly doesn’t know where she is anymore. She’s clutching the earth, gripping, pulling, praying, begging. Begging to feel him, to feel his energy.

She can’t feel Bucky.

“I can’t feel you,” She whimpers in shock. “I can’t feel you.”

This can’t be real. She squeezes her eyes shut, bringing her left up to claw at her chest as the other remains in the dirt. This can’t be real. Her throat feels like it’s on fire, blood is rushing to her ears, her body curls in on itself. Her veins feel cold. Her breath is gone and her heart....she can’t feel her heart. Her chest is an empty void.

This can’t be real.

“Oh God,” Steve exhales in horrified distress.

“You are all now at the mercy of the great Thanos,” The blue skinned alien, who had injured Vision just before Ana arrived on the field, speaks up, emerging between the trees. The last of the mad Titan’s goons. “You should be grateful for his-“

The words die in his throat. She doesn’t know when or how she stood up, Ana just knows her hand is now over the alien’s ugly face, as if she’s in a trance. A wet, gargling noise disturbs the eerie air, the alien’s limbs jerking sporadically as his face begins to glow a bright blue. The light engulfs his entire body before turning white, his skin burning beneath her palm. A short blast flashes, followed by a heavy thump. The light fades, the air once again swirling with particles.

Ana pants, finally tearing her eyes away from the spot Bucky should be. The alien’s lifeless body stares back at her, thick streams of blue blood oozes out of every orifice on his face. His skin is marred, the smell of burnt flesh her stinging her nose.

Her knees buckle, falling to the ground. Her body trembles violently. Everything is empty. There’s a hallow ache between her ribs. A darkness pressing all around her. Suffocating her. Taking her. She wants it to take her.

Ana can’t feel Bucky.

She begs for it to take her.

A vice grip wraps around her body. Hot air hisses over her ear. A sharp twisting sting pinches her skin, finally breaking through the deafening rush of waves in her head. She’s screaming, or sobbing, or hyperventilating. She doesn’t know. She just can’t feel Bucky.

Breathe. Just breath.

The words finally register with Ana. The voice is gentle, laced with tremors and fear as they’re repeated over again. Gradually, her senses come back to her. Heavy, muscular arms hold her together, too tight, too painful; it’s grounding. It’s constricting her, she shifts in panic, the arms loosening their hold.

Her vision clears as Ana stares into blue eyes. Different blue eyes. Different eyes without the crinkles in the corners, without the glitter mirth and admiration. Blue eyes with green flecks laced into the fibers. Steve.

Not her life. Not her heart. Not Bucky

Ana inhales shortly. She comes back to herself, abruptly aware of everything. She doesn’t know how much time has passed. She slowly takes in his appearance. His face is covered in sweat and dirt, his lip cut open and bleeding. He’s roughed up, he’s exhausted, he’s grounding her. His expression is broken as he helps her. It’s his eyes though that bring her back. The utter look of torment in them snaps her aware to their surroundings, reality setting in.

“Breathe,” Is all he says. As if he’s telling himself to do so as well.

Oh god, he lost Bucky too. Bucky.

Ana breaks eye contact, a thought crashing through the blankness in her mind. She looks down at her body, shimmering waves encase her. The rings aren’t activated. The glow is her own power source, her own energy shield. Protecting. Protection. Protection for herself. Protection to keep her safe. Protection for-

“Steve,” Ana exhales as her body begins to tremble all over. Her fists clutching at the dirt where her husband vanished before her eyes.

Her vision blurs, her head swimming. Her chest is utterly empty. She meets his gaze, a complex of emotions storming in his eyes. Ana wraps her arms around her middle. Protecting. Like she tried to do with…Bucky. Like he tried to do with her. Protecting her. Protecting them.

“I’m pregnant.”

****************************************

Drabbles: Eighteen Drabbles: Twenty

***seriously, tumblr wigged out and it deleted -.- I’m sorry for putting you through this pain again...whoops

@thecreatiivecorner @kat-lives @stressedasalways @watchoutforfrostbite @justreadingfics @keldachick @fics-i-read @eurynome827

#bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #delicate stages drabbles

32 notes · View notes

writingwhimsy · 5 years

Text

Attack from Above

This is a small section from a Court of Thorns and Roses story that I co-wrote with a friend a long long time ago. It features Vega, my imagining of Feyre and Rhys’ first born son, and his mate Brynli, who is the daughter of Eris. Enjoy.

Clutching Brynle in his arms, Vega was startled to realize that he was feeling...happy--content, even. The warm weight of her in his arms, the sensation of her hands wrapped around his neck made the threat they were facing seem far away.

They glided over the thick forest that marked the Middle and he made her laugh by telling her the story of his mother and the Weaver. Then, just to prove he could, Vega put on some speed and flew in a large loop to the sound of her excited scream.

Brynle leaned closer to him so that he could hear her over the wind, “We should probably find a place to land soon, it’s about to get dark.”

Vega nodded begrudgingly, not ready to go to earth yet. “We can--”

His words were cut off as something slammed into his right wing and agony blacked out his mind for a moment. Brynle’s sound of panic and fury dragged him back to the surface and he desperately flapped his mutilated wings to try to slow their descent. The injured wing finally stabilized and Vega whipped his head around, searching the skies for whatever had attacked them.

“Are you okay?” she shouted over the rushing wind.

He caught a flash of movement and managed to shift enough so the next attack didn’t hit Brynle where she lay exposed in his arms. A long cut seemed to open along his side and he grit his teeth at the pain. Twisting in the air, Vega was finally able to see what was hunting them.

The creature hovered several yards behind them, trailing their limping path over the trees with a twisted grin marring its face. It was massive--easily three times the size of Vega even with his wings stretched to their greatest extent. Its colors seemed to shift and ripple to reflect the evening sky and providing the perfect camouflage.

Squinting slightly, to try to make out its features, Vega’s eyes widened at the unfamiliar shape. Since he was a teenager, he’d trained to fight the various monsters that made their way into Prythian from the broken remains of Hybern’s kingdom. He’d seen scores of creatures like the Attor, packs of vicious naga, and even the occasional wyvern. But this was something entirely new to him.

Massive wings that were disproportionately large compared to its compact, muscular body caught the evening air easily as it cruised behind them with deadly intent. Vega could see his blood decorating the monstrous clawed feet from where it had slashed at him earlier. Its head was dominated by a mouth that was open enough to show off rows of serrated teeth. Clever little eyes set further back in its head watched them hungrily. Like a cat toying with its prey, it wanted them to run, to try to escape so that the game could last longer.

Oberon had unleashed the creatures of Prythian’s nightmares, Vega realized in horrified awe. A monster of legend sent to ensure their doom.

Banking hard enough to make pain shriek through his injured wing, he dropped down to the tops of the massive trees of the Middle. Occasionally he caught the shadow of the monster behind him as he tried to put on more speed. His magic blazed to life around them like living night.

Without looking, he sent a wave of that darkness towards their pursuer and was rewarded with a frustrated roar as its next attack was cut off as it banked to avoid it. He felt a wave of heat follow his blast and knew Brynle was helping in the only way she could without the benefit of wings.

Thinking quickly, he weighed the possible outcomes if he attempted to fight while carrying her. As skilled as Vega was, he would be much more effective with the use of his arms. On the other hand, he knew that Brynle would skin him alive if he attempted to leave her behind. In the woods, she stood a better chance of surviving this encounter if he fell.

Looking down at Brynle’s worried face, Vega made the decision he knew that she would hate him for. Brushing a kiss against her temple, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes widened as though she understood what he planned but it was already too late. She disappeared into smoke and ash as he winnowed her down to the forest floor. Vega closed his eyes and let his magic caress the flaming shields that protected her mind with a cool night wind.

Run, Brynle! Get to shelter and I’ll come for you later.

The furious cursing that erupted along their mental link made him smile even as he dodged another swipe of the beast’s claws. I’m not leaving you to get ripped apart by that thing! She snarled.

I can’t concentrate if I’m trying to keep you safe and you can’t fly, he said even as he darted between the trees, leading the monster away from his wife. Part of him wished that he could bear the thought of forcing her to do what he said with his father’s powers but he never wanted to become a monster to her too.

RUN! Vega roared as he closed the link and drew his weapons.

Freed from the need to protect his cargo, Vega called on the magic he kept hidden deep within his heart. His skin rippled and shifted to fit a larger body. A body that lurked in the darkest nightmares of the Night Court. New, elongated teeth grew from a jaw that was made for ripping and tearing apart prey.

He was a monster, but one that would defend what was precious to him until his last breath.

Twisting in the air, he used the new strength of his form to double back quickly enough to rake his claws down its flank. It lunged for him and Vega was forced to dive to avoid its massive teeth. He felt like a sparrow trying to take down a massive eagle.

For all its size, the creature had an unholy speed that had him struggling to outmaneuver it in order to avoid another direct hit. Each of his injuries burned and seemed unable to close or begin healing. By now, his mother’s gifts should have helped speed the healing process enough that he could stand a chance in this fight.

Cursing as its clawed wing clipped him in a move a creature that large shouldn’t be able to pull, Vega called on the darkness within him desperately. The world flickered and dimmed around him before the evening sun came blazing through once more. What was going on? His thoughts felt muddy and he could feel his body beginning to slow.

Vega gritted his teeth and focused on pumping his wings hard, trying to gain altitude and speed. The monster followed him easily as he dove and attempted to dodge the next series of attacks. The injuries his swords and knives could manage were like paper cuts against the hardened flesh of the beast.

A sickly sweet scent drifted up from the creature and Vega cursed long and with vicious dury. Faebane. The monster had dipped its claws in faebane in order to weaken his prey further. To ensure his death.

His focus shifted from trying to kill the beast to trying to give Brnyle enough time to get to somewhere safe. She would be able to purify the Cauldron without his help. Vega’s heart gave a painful lurch at the thought of the dangers she would face alone now. Perhaps he could drag this flying beast into the beyond along with him.

All thought was ripped from his mind as the beast finally managed to grab him with one of those clawed legs around his middle. Breathing became nearly impossible as it tightened his grip around him and he felt his ribs crack and break under the pressure. Coughing and gasping for air, he could feel his blood already beginning to fill his lungs.

Almost casually, Vega felt himself being tossed through the air towards the earth. Instinctively his wings spasmed, trying to catch enough air to slow his descent, to save himself. His mind filled with images of fire and wild blue eyes as his body slammed into the trees with enough force to finally rip his consciousness away.

A blinding light above him drug him up from the darkness that had comforted him in his pain. His mind struggled to hold onto any thought besides one word that echoed over and over again.

Brynle.

Find her. Need her.

A new panic built in his chest to coincide with the intense power that made the air crackle and pop throughout The Middle. Brynle was accessing her birthright. Pulling the same glorious magic that had once built the world and everything in it. A power that could just as easily rip Prythian apart by the seams.

Vega tried to summon the power to go to her. To crawl to her if need be but his body felt like a whisper of what it once was. Broken beyond repair.

The pain was distant now and he stared up at the fractured sky exposed by his descent to the forest floor. He knew he should be worried about that spreading numbness but all he could think about was searching the skies above him. Fear clawed at his throat like a wild thing as the creature flew over head, it’s dark head searching for its prey. Searching for Brynle.

That awful, endless power built to a crescendo and he watched as the monster’s head snapped towards something on the forest floor. Dove for the tiny creature that had attempted to escape it.

No! he shouted--unsure if the call was in his mind or out loud.

She hadn’t run. His stupid, willful, brave wife had stayed behind to try to help him even though her magic was still a wild and uncontrolled.

His fingers twitched in helpless terror as the magic in the air became white hot fire that slammed into the side of the creature. It gave a scream of rage and pain and dove towards the earth and its attacker.

Then there was only silence.

#court of thorns and roses #fanfiction #post-ACOWAR #original writing #original character #romance #fantasy #action

3 notes · View notes

makeste · 6 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 052: “I Was Almost Too Late”

Previously on BnHA: Tomura’s gang of Noumus wreaked havoc on the city. Fucking Endeavor showed up to lend Gran Torino some support. Deku realized Iida was in trouble. Iida got all kinds of fucked up by Stain and tearfully monologued about how much he loves his brother. Stain was not moved and went in for the killing blow. Then my boi Deku showed up with the clutch last minute save.

Today on BnHA: Deku shows off his big hero brain and rad deductive reasoning skills. Iida is all, “DEKU, DON’T INTERFERE!” even though he’s just lying on the ground waiting to get murdered. Deku tries to hold off Stain using full cowl and it’s briefly the coolest thing ever, but then Stain grazes him with one of his blades and Deku gets paralyzed too. Stain is all, “you’re cool so I won’t kill you,” and yet again tries to kill Iida. Yet another U.A. student shows up before he can actually do so, because Iida apparently has a backup quirk of summoning main characters whenever he’s about to die.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 126 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

um... what

[frantically checks chapter number like three times even though it’s printed right there]

lol what. is this a dream?? a flash forward? DO WE HAVE TO GO BACK KATE

WAIT A SEC. this is a color page! and 52 weeks in a year = 52 chapters in a year = it’s been one year in real time. that’s what they’re talking about

well, congratulations! but don’t fucking confuse me like that you assholes

GASSSSPP

POPULARITY POLL

I PREDICT TODOROKI AT NUMBER ONE, FOLLOWED BY DEKU, FOLLOWED BY BAKUGOU, FOLLOWED BY ALL MIGHT, FOLLOWED BY... WELL IN A JUST WORLD IT’D BE MY BEST GIRL OCHAKO BUT I GUESS WE’LL SEE

oh lord now there’s a two-page spread, and okay I have to risk spoiling myself because this page deserves to be viewed in color

okay found it

I just really love Bakugou’s pose and Aizawa’s grumpy sleeping bag face in the back. also Momo getting her drink on

WHERE THE FUCK IS THE POLL. DO I HAVE TO GO HUNT THAT SHIT DOWN. SHIT. I’LL DO IT LATER

(ETA: didn’t realize this was just the poll announcement and I still had to wait 10 more chapters for the actual results lol)

all right so flashback to Deku running with a 5% One for All speed boost to get to Iida before anything bad happens

he’s thinking about the coincidental appearance of several new Noumus in the same city where the Hero Killer had previously been rampaging about. and he’s wondering if it’s a sign that said killer and the League of Villains have teamed up

good instincts there Deku

and of course he’s realized that Iida went after Stain, since all the signs point in that direction. he’s read enough comics to know when a young hero has gone running off on his own on an ill-advised quest for vengeance

back to the present! Deku is all YEAH I WAS FUCKING RIGHT

(ETA: Deku saying “bingo”, which he does in English, with that satisfied “FUCKIN’ KNEW IT” expression, may be my favorite moment in this entire arc, and I mean that unironically. love it)

Iida looks totally shocked to see him and can you blame him?? he was literally about to die and all of a sudden fucking Deku shows up out of nowhere to punch the strong villain guy in the face? Deku who was supposed to be off on his own internship miles and miles away? and who wouldn’t have had any idea that Iida had gone off on his solo vengeance quest?

just goes to show, don’t underestimate the main character’s propensity for sniffing out trouble and getting involved in the middle of it, Iida

(ETA: since I’ve complained a little about the suspension of disbelief required for some of the coincidences in this arc, I just want to clarify that this is not one of those moments. I actually really like that Deku’s logic was explained, and that he didn’t just randomly stumble across Iida, but was actively looking for him after narrowing down his search radius)

anyway so Stain’s rebounding now and he does recognize Deku from Tomura’s photo

Deku is so fucking smart

can we all agree that even without One for All he still would have made a great fucking hero. worst case, he would have been like the most legendary detective of all time, probably

Deku asks Iida if he can move. good, he’s not dumb enough to try and take this guy on alone if he can help it

but the problem is Iida can’t move. apparently Stain’s quirk took effect when he was cut

shit. so... lol Deku! better not fucking get cut. time to put those new One for All skills to the test in a trial by fire

Deku considers just carrying Iida (he’s strong enough now lol), but then he sees the other hero guy lying there nearby, and he can’t get both of them

and now Iida is putting in his two cents, and. wow guys. this is easily the dumbest thing anyone has ever said in the whole series up until this point

JUST LEAVE ME HERE TO DIE, FAM. IT’S GOT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, IIDA

Stain seems to admire Deku’s heroism, but he says that it’s his duty to kill these guys, and if Deku’s going to stand in his way, well then. you can see where this is going

what happened to that whole “I don’t kill kids, the people I kill all deserve it, this is for the good of society” and all that other shit

and he says “the weaker of us will be culled” with a scary face. and Deku looks intimidated because he can see that this guy truly believes the bullshit he’s spouting right now, and he knows that makes him extra dangerous

but when this guy says “the weaker of us”, I don’t know if he realizes that there’s a good fucking chance that’s actually him

also, I’m still half-expecting Todoroki to show up if this gets bad. though part of me hopes it doesn’t happen since it's so tropey. if he was hanging out with Endeavor, it’d make more sense for him to team up with him and Gran. or maybe join the fight against all of the Noumus downtown

Deku is reaching behind him and clicking something. it looks like his phone; I wonder if he called for backup

he’s realizing now that he’s on his own. but he’s also saying that he needs to “buy some time” so I hope he did call for help

Iida is screaming at him but dude, you really expect Deku to just leave you? I know you’re not thinking straight, but that’s suicidal at best and borderline insulting at worst. I hope Deku chews you out later

oho!

okay, two things I like here! number one, quoting one of All Might’s better lessons. and number two, THE FUCKING SMILE OMG. this is easily the most AM-like he’s been to date and it looks good on him, damn

look at Iida’s face

fucking relax?? you’re really killing my buzz here. just wait. Deku’s got this

probably

so Deku’s charging at Stain and Stain’s bringing the sword out! BOY YOU BETTER DODGE THAT SHIT OR ELSE IT’S A ONE-HIT KO WITH HIS QUIRK

YESSSSSSS

ALL RIGHT SON LET’S DO THIS

Stain thinks to himself that Deku made the smart move by getting in close, so he can’t use his long blade effectively. but now he’s pulling out one of his knives!

AHHHH YESSSS NOT SO FAST MOTHERFUCKER

(ETA: holy shit you can actually see two tiny droplets of blood by Deku’s arm, though. that’s so cool that you can go back and pinpoint the moment when he gets grazed and doesn’t realize)

I’m honestly starting to get a little nervous as to what’s going to happen, because so far Deku is making this look fucking easy, and I figure that in order for the suspense to be maintained, surely something has to go wrong soon, right?

then again

lmao every time Stain tries to hit him he’s fucking gone. pretty safe to say he’s got the speed advantage here I think

AND HERE HE COMES NOW WITH THE SMASH

EVEN AT JUST FIVE PERCENT, THAT SHIT STILL LOOKS LIKE IT HURT

oh my god

sure!! because why would Deku ever come up with his own fighting style when he could just keep ripping off Bakugou’s playbook until the end of time?! I love this so much

anyway, so that was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen, so naturally something terrible is about to happen I assume?

OH FUCK ME FUCKING SHIT

Deku’s trying to figure out what’s going on -- “did he graze me?”

I can’t tell for sure but it seems like there is indeed a sliiiight teeny tiny cut on his upper arm. fuck

although now Deku is thinking “no that’s not it! it’s blood!” and I have no idea what he’s talking about?

Stain’s walking up to him all calm. he says Deku lacks power but did a good job tracking his movements

see Iida, now if you want to freak out, I will allow it

oh shit??

never mind Iida

shit he’s walking back towards you!!

Stain please don’t kill Iida right in front of a paralyzed and helpless Deku oh my god

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh snap

WHO CALLED IT?! YEAH THAT’S RIIIIGHT

WHY SO SURPRISED, DID YOU NOT SEE THIS COMING

LMAO MEANWHILE I ONLY PREDICTED IT BECAUSE I KNEW FROM THE ANIME THAT HE DID GO TO INTERN AT ENDEAVOR’S AGENCY. IT’S THE ANIME’S FUCKING FAULT. I SHOULD STOP WATCHING FOR A WHILE, BUT I JUST LOVE THE SOUNDTRACK SO MUCH, AND IT’S SO MUCH FUN TO SEE THESE SCENES IN ACTION DAMMIT

ANYWAY!!!

OHHH MY GODDD

DEKU HIT HIM UP IN THE GROUP CHAT I CAN’T I’M DONE FOREVER

SO THEN HE DID KNOW HE WAS COMING. MAYBE HE JUST LOOKS SO SHOCKED BECAUSE OF THE STRESSFUL SITUATION HE WAS IN ONLY SECONDS EARLIER

ALSO, LOOK AT THIS HANDSOME MOTHERFUCKER IN HIS NEW FUCKING COSTUME

hey google play Arsonist’s Lullabye

BONUS:

Ochako’s meal plan wtf

she doesn’t eat

what the fuck did I just read

what the shit I don’t even get it. how’s it supposed to be funny. is it making fun of diets or making light of poverty wtf

whatever. I may honestly delete this bonus section, since it contains absolutely nothing of value and just ruins all that cool shit Todoroki and Deku just did

(ETA: well in the end I didn’t delete it. I’m not gonna post any of the rest of these segments though. they’re pretty terrible and it’s easier for me to just pretend they don’t exist)

#bnha #boku no hero academia #makeste reads bnha #midoriya izuku #iida tenya #stain (bnha)#todoroki shouto #you bet I have theme songs picked out for all my favorite characters by this point #what else am I supposed to do #*not* make sure all my music is bnha-themed whenever I read?#come on

66 notes · View notes

nubnubblr · 5 years

Text

If You Do .16

CHARLIE

"I think that I should just cancel, it's not like I can even play," Sam stated.

He was lying on the lounge, the same place he had been all week. Not that I blamed him, he couldn't go to work and it's not like he could do much else, but he had fallen into a depressed state and that wasn't allowed to happen. Sam is always positive and happy, even if the rest of us weren't.

"Get dressed," I stated.

"Why?" he sighed.

"Because I think you need to go,"

"So I can stand there and watch everyone else play?"

"I'm pretty sure Haka wants your voice in his band, besides I think it would be good for you to be able to be a part of music while you're waiting to play,"

"His name is Leo,"

"Just get dressed, what's the worse that could happen? You decide you don't want to?" I challenged. He let out another sighed getting up.

"Fine,"

"Be quick about it, I've got dance rehearsal tonight,"

"You've had dance rehearsal every night this week," he retorted.

"Because I have a show tomorrow," I shot back.

I've also had the past two weeks off from the dance company because of the douche trio and their antics. I felt like I was behind, even if I was told I didn't have to come in ever night.

SAM

"This is where he lives?" Charlie frowned.

"It's the address he gave me," I shrugged.

"How exactly does he afford this place?"

"I'm pretty sure he and his friend own it,"

"He owns it? But he looks like a gypsy. I was expecting a bus,"

"I think his family is loaded,"

"Of course," she rolled her eyes.

She had a, not so secret, disdain for trust fund kids. Mostly because they have money they don't have to work for, but Leo was different, he was actually trying to work towards his dream, he just had the luxury of having the cushion cash flow while he did so.

Leo came through the white gate and open the larger white gate to let us up the driveway. He smiled and waited for us to get out of the car.

"How's the shoulder?" was the first thing he said.

"It's nice to see you too Haka," Charlie frowned at him disapprovingly.

"I see Thea is making sure my new nickname is catching on,"

"You are the one who performed the haka in the middle of a bar," I pointed out.

"This is true," he nodded

"So where is this band room?" Charlie asked.

"Follow me," he gestured.

We followed him back through the small white gate which led into the backyard. There was a stepping stone path that forked out leading to the house and what looked to be the garage. In this back corner of the yard was a school bus, I withheld my laugh as Charlie pointed to it giving me an 'I told you so' look.

We turned towards the garage which looked longer than it needed to be. Once we'd followed him through the side door I realised that there was a wall through the centre dividing it into two spaces. We walked through the garage section which was big enough for three cars but only sat one. He led us through another door which brought us to the band room.

"Charlie, Sam, this is Jeff and Dylan," he introduced.

THEA

"I need 5 kilos of potatoes peels, 3 kilos of carrots peeled and diced, and a kilo of onions diced," the head chef stated pointing at each of us as he listed the prep items.

"Yes chef," we stated in unison.

He left to give other students instructions. Cory started on the carrots, Benji took the onions, and I was awarded with peeling 5 kilos of potatoes. Technically I didn't even have to be here, but I like taking the extra days just in case something happens and I have to miss a day. Benji and Cory were just behind.

"So, how are talks with that guy going?" Benji wiggled his eyebrows at me.

"We are actually going out to lunch tomorrow," I nodded.

"Want us to come?" Cory offered.

"No, I'm an adult I can go on a date without back up," I frowned.

"Charlie's going with you isn't she?" Benji stated.

"Yes," I mumbled.

"You're so predictable," Cory shook his head at me.

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes.

"On another note, how are the birthday plans going?"

"Don't even go there," I sighed shaking my head.

"Not well?"

"There are so many people coming and so much food to make, I swear I'm going to spend most of the night cooking, I miss my mum," I whined.

"Are your parents coming down for it?"

"They can't get time off," I shook my head.

"What about your brother?"

"Nope," I cleared my throat.

It wasn't really unusual since they move up north I haven't seen them much, maybe once or twice a year, if I'm lucky. And never on my birthday, is usually the busiest time for them because it's so close to Christmas. But it still sucked, I miss them normally, but even more so on my birthday.

"Well we'll be there," Cory nudged my shoulder with his.

"I'm sure we can be as annoying at your brother," Benji smirked, tears starting to fall from his eyes.

"Awe, bro, are you getting emotional?" Cory teased.

"It's just so sad," he fake sobbed.

"Chef is going to tell you off if you don't stop," I shook my head.

"He's busy giving out tasks," Cory shrugged.

"Thea is right, I'm okay with you guys taking but you need to be serious, especially around knives," Chef was standing behind us arms crossed over his chest.

"Yes chef," Benji nodded.

"Told you," I mumbled.

CHARLIE

He wasn't sure, he was definitely reluctant about standing in front of a microphone stand without a guitar. He was fidgety, probably because he's not used to having his hands empty. He looked at me and seemed to calm down a bit, taking a deep breath he nodded at Haka who started to play a melody, Jeff and Dylan joined in and a few seconds later Sam started to sing.

It didn't take him long to fee his comfortable, his hands were on the microphone stand, fingers tapping along to the beat. He even smiled, this was definitely something he should be doing, not just while he's waiting for his shoulder to heal.

"So what do you think?" Haka asked the room, he was already sure he wanted Sam to join the band.

"Good," Jeff nodded, Dylan agreed. The spoke in broken English and it was honestly so cute.

"Sam?" he asked hopeful.

"It was fun," he nodded still unsure.

"So are you joining our band?"

"I have to think about it a little more," he shrugged.

"Okay," Haka nodded disappointedly.

"We have to go to the hospital for a check-up, but I'll call you when I decide," Sam stated. His appointment wasn't for another hour an a half but I didn't say anything, it was clear he wanted to leave which just confused me.

SAM

It was fun, and I enjoyed it until I realised how much I already missed playing guitar. It was like being hit by a bus, and I just wanted to leave.

"Oh, okay," Leo nodded confused.

He offered us something to eat before we left but I really just wanted to get out of here, I felt like I couldn't breathe. It took all I had to not run to the car, Charlie followed behind me with a concerned look plastered on her face.

"What's wrong?" she frowned as we pulled out of his driveway.

"Nothing," I shook my head, I felt really stupid.

"Right," she raised an eyebrow. I sighed.

"I didn't think it would be that hard to not play guitar, I felt like I was suffocating,"

"Playing guitar as always been your outlet, it's how you vent and you haven't been able to do that so you've been bottling everything. It's no wonder you felt that way," she stated.

"I guess,"

"You just need a new outlet,"

"Like what?"

"Why don't you start writing music again? Your new band is going to need original songs," she hinted.

"You think I should join?"

"Yes,"

"Because it will stop me from moping on your couch?"

"No, because you enjoyed it because it's something that I think you suit and works for you,"

"But also the couch thing," she smirked.

"So what now?"

"I don't know, your appointment isn't for another hour or so," she shrugged.

"Food?"

"I know this great cafe,"

"Hey, there brother of mine," Coco walked through the door.

"How was your time down south?" I asked not looking up from my clipboard.

"12, 7, 42, 69," Jae laughed.

He had been sprouting out random numbers for the last 10 minutes because I was doing stocktake and writing up the new order. He thought it would be fun to see how many times he could make me restart counting. So far, I'd had to start again twice.

"It was fun, sorry we stayed longer than planned, you didn't need my help here did you?"

"Nope, if I opened this place on the condition of you help then I would be a little screwed what with your job involving a lot of travel,"

"Right, so how is Sam?"

"He's okay, in a bit of a self-pity state, he's been sitting on the girls' lounge for the past week. He hasn't been up for much so,"

"He was supposed to have band practice today, I'm not sure he went through," Jae shrugged before continuing with counting.

"Bro, would you shut up?" I frowned.

"Did you screw up again?" He smirked.

"Can you go and distract him or something, I need to get this done," I sighed.

"Why don't I do that? You're irritable and likely to make a mistake," she slid the clipboard towards her.

"You think you can block him out?"

"I've spent half of my life blocking him out," she commented, I frowned.

"What? He's super irritating," she shrugged.

CHARLIE

I parked the car and we walked into the cafe. Skye who was behind the counter smiled up at me she was new and really only got called into work when me or Jae couldn't come in.

"Hey, I thought you worked this morning,"

"I did, we were just in the area and thought we would stop by for a coffee," I shrugged.

"Do you want to make it?" she asked.

"Sure," I nodded as Whitney walked through the door.

"Oh thank god," she sighed when she saw me.

"Is your boss being a pain?" I raised an eyebrow.

"He was fine this morning, then we had a double booking with important meetings because he has temporary receptionists, it was a mess and he couldn't even have coffee because you finish at 12," she vented.

"Do you want me to make a few?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"I can do it," Skye smiled, I think she was trying to help.

"It's fine," I shook my head.

"But you're not supposed to be working," she frowned.

"My boss won't drink the coffee unless it's made by her," Whitney shrugged.

"Then why did you come in, know she had finished her shift?"

"Because the coffee cake you guys have he loves, so I figured if he couldn't have coffee, the cake would be a fair substitute,"

"Guess who makes the coffee cake," I smirked.

"You're like some kind of coffee wizard," she laughed.

"Not really," I shook my head.

"Is it weird that I know your work schedule?" she laughed to herself.

"I think is weird that your boss only drinks my coffee," I shrugged.

"Oh I'm so sorry, can I get you anything?" Skye asked Sam who had sat in one of the waiting chairs.

"I've got it," I shook my head.

"Oh he's your boyfriend?" she raised an eyebrow. She had flirty eyes, I didn't like it, so instead of saying no.

"Yes," I stated seriously giving her a warning look. She backed down pretty quickly.

"I didn't think you had a boyfriend," Whitney hummed.

"Now you know, how many coffees do you want?"

"Can I have 3, no wait, four,"

"It's 2 in the afternoon, what does he need with four coffees?"

"He has to stay late to get stuff done, he has plans tomorrow and can't come I to the office," she shrugged.

"It must be nice having your own business and deciding when to work or not," I commented.

"I'm pretty sure he's going on a date his friend is setting him up,"

"Maybe he'll get laid and be less high strung"

"Here's hoping," she laughed.

"How about I get you some coffee cake too?"

"I love you," she laughed.

THEA

Sam and Charlie still weren't home at 6.30 so I was guessing that Charlie had just taken him with her to dance practice. I still hadn't asked her about coming to lunch but I was pretty sure I knew how I could get her there without actually asking g. She probably wouldn't be happy about it but from the photos I've seen of Mark, she'll be fine with it after a while.

It was almost 9 when o started cooking dinner. She would have finished practice at nine and it only takes about half an hour to drive from there to here.

I decided o making fried rice because it took a while to make and also Sam loves rice so I k ow he would eat it. He's been a little off food lately which for Sam is really weird but I guess with everything he's been through lately is a little expected.

He had been staying with us since his surgery because for starters is more sanitary here, and the boys would be any help with changing Sam's dressing, they would try but they would just mess around or be grossed out by it. Also, there was no way Charlie was going to let him out of her sights for a while. The other two tried to stay here too, but she just kicked them out.

"I smell rice," Sam exhaled as he walked through the door, followed by Charlie. Volk bolted down the hallway, instead of jumping up like he normally does he nudge his head against Sam's hand like he knew Sam was injured.

"Yes you do," I nodded turning the stove off.

"Great, I'm starving," he picked up a bowl.

"How did practice go?" I asked casually, he sort of shrugged but didn't actually answer. I looked over at Charlie who just shook her head as if to tell me to let it go.

"Do you want some?" I asked her.

"Do we have seaweed?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Duh," I waved the snack packets in the air.

"Then yes," she nodded.

I waited until we were sitting in the lounge room eating before I mentioned anything. That way it came out more casual and she wouldn't think that I was up to something.

"You have your dance show tomorrow night huh?"

"Yep,"

"What time do you have to be there?"

"5, why?" She frowned.

"I was just thinking that after the past few weeks we've had we could have a bit of a girls day, we could go see Kiwoo and get out hair done, you could get your nails done, maybe a bit of shopping and some food?"

"Don't call it a girls day," she shook her head.

"Dudes day?"

"It would save me having to do my hair and makeup," she nodded.

"And if you don't want to wear your stage outfit then you can just bring it I your bag," I shrugged.

"That would mean carrying a bag. Pass. But sure," she nodded.

"So we'll leave here at about 12 tomorrow?" I suggested.

"What am I supposed to do?" Sam frowned.

"We can drop you off at the bar?" I shrugged.

"Or at Haka's," Charlie mumbled.

"You really think I should do it?" He sighed.

"Yes, I do,"

"I'll think about it," he sighed.

SAM

"Can you guys drop me off at the bar on your way?" I asked.

"Sure," Charlie walked out of her room dressed in a fishnet bodysuit under a cropped top and short that wear barely visible under the shirt she had tied around her waist. Like, Damn. I mean she is always attractive, but when she is stage ready, I mean, wow.

"Ready to go?" Thea followed.

"You're pretty dressed up for a girls day," I commented.

"What's the point in getting your hair and makeup done just to be wearing g shabby clothes?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Point taken," I nodded.

"Let's go," She chirped.

The dropped me off, asked me the usual motherly questions, well Thea did. Charlie just told me not to do anything stupid.

BM was stocking the shelves when I walked in, he seemed a little surprised to see me.

"Hey man, how did you get here?" He frowned.

"The girls dropped me off, they're heading I to Perth for a girls day," I shrugged.

"Sure they are," he laughed nodding.

"Seriously, that's what they're doing,"

"That's what Thea told Charlie they're doing,"

"I'm confused,"

"Thea is having lunch with that guy she's been talking too and she didn't want to go along e but she figured Charlie would just say no, this a girls day," he explained.

"Won't Charlie feel a little third wheeled?"

"He is bringing a friend too, but we all know how Charlie feels about being forced into something,"

"She gone be mad," Jae walked down the stairs.

"Should we text her?"

"She won't get it, she has a dance show today," Jae stated.

Charlie generally ignored all calls and texts when she had a show, mainly so she couldn't be called into work or something. If there was something important they would have Thea's number.

"I feel bad for the guy that has to deal with her," BM smirked.

"She's not that bad," I frowned.

"Are you kidding me? Not only is she being forced into something, shes being tricked into being forced. The attitude that guy is going to get,"

"And I bet you she is in her stage outfit because she's too stubborn to carry a bag," Jae stated.

It hadn't registered in my head that she was wearing her stage outfit, which wasn't really too different from what she normally wears, but she was showing more.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I frowned.

"Nothing really," he shrugged.

"Stop stirring the pot," BM shook his head.

"What?" Jae raised an eyebrow.

"So what brings you home?" BM turned to me.

"I just thought I would come and hang,"

"Right,"

"My lyric books are here," I said as I headed upstairs.

They were in a box under my bed, I had never been so glass to have a loft style bed. I slid the box over to the sitting area, also under my bed, and sat down.

CHARLIE

"Bitch, did you get a new job?" Eddy raised an eyebrow at me when we walked in.

"What are you trying to say?" He just pulled a face.

"She has a dance show tonight," Thea stated.

"No kidding," he laughed.

"Seriously?" Thea sighed.

"What?"

"Your friend is here," she pointed at Yuri.

"Why are you surprised?" I raised an eyebrow.

Yuri was best friends with MinSung, who also happened to be dating Kiwoo. Yuri noticed us as smirked walking over. Thea let out another sigh, she still wasn't over that face that he had slept with us both.

"Hey girls," he winked.

"Hey," I nodded.

"Yuri," Thea stated before walking away, he just let out a slight laugh.

"What brings you here?" He asked.

"What do you think?

"Dance show?" He raised an eyebrow looking me up and down.

"Yeah,"

"Maybe I should come," he shrugged.

"Hey," MinSung joined us.

"Hey," I nodded.

"You kind of look like a hooker,"

"And you're dressed kind of like a dick,"

"Oh, actually he is a dick," Yuri smirked.

"Charlie," Kiwoo smiled.

"Hey,"

"You two aren't bothering my clients are you?"

"Not just dressed like one then," Minsung joked.

"Shut up," I frowned.

THEA

"Go have lunch and get out of my salon," Kiwoo ushered them out.

"See you at home babe," Minsung kissed him.

"Where is mine?" Yuri puckered.

"You already had him once. He's mine now," Kiwoo playfully glared at him.

"You got told," I smirked.

"Yuri is kind of like you, he has slept with everyone," Charlie stated.

"Hey, we are nothing alike, besides Minsung has slept with more people in this room,"

"Not true, Yuri as slept with everyone we know in here except Kiwoo," she corrected me.

"Seriously?" I frowned at Eddy.

"Bitch, don't you come for me. You've seen him," he rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," I nodded.

"So what are we doing today?"

"I want something different, I don't know what but you know me," I shrugged.

"And you?"

"Colour fix, makeup and maybe my nails,"

"Let's get started,"

2 notes · View notes

privateer-universe-blog · 5 years

Text

Project X, Episode 2

Midnight Blue

Intergalactic Red Cross Official Log

Cross-12: James McCartney

23:14, Mountain Planet Athnan, 3/27/30141

Last evening was quite an adventure if I do say so myself. Florence and I were watching Golden Girls in his room, I was eating Chinese food and he was berating me about it for the billionth time.

“You can’t live off of rice alone you know.”

I threw my chopsticks at him. “Watch me.”

It was then that both of our pockets buzzed, we pulled out our communications and clicked the sides.

“Report to Deck B5 immediately,” both devices said in the same tinny voice. Florence looked at me and sighed. “Not a single day of peace.”

“Only the sweet taste of justice,” I replied.

He pushed Lewis off his lap and stood up. I slowly dragged myself off the couch, brushing rice off of my red uniform.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Florence responded.

Together we walked out of his room, me taking a less common route because girls aren’t supposed to be in male quarters, which is a stupid rule by the way. We met up again at the entrance of Deck B5 and walked in together, joining the rest of our squadron.

“James!”

I turned around to see the face of my squadron’s senior assistant, Hunter Wills, who also happens to be my slimy and unpleasant ex-boyfriend.

“What?” I asked in a tone that immediately told him I had no interest in the conversation. Ironic, considering the fact that when we were together he never seemed that interested in talking anyway.

“Relax.” he said. “Commander wants to see you, it’s about a new mission.”

Hunter peered behind me. “Hey robot boy!”

I growled. Florence hates it when people call him that.

“Commander wants to see you too,” Hunter finished, and with that he sauntered off, turning his head to wink at me as he went to stand with his superiors.

“I hate that guy,” Florence muttered.

“Same.”

Together we walked to where our commander was waiting for us.

“Agents McCartney and S456-E210,” he nodded.

We stood, awaiting his instructions.

“Now as you two are well aware the planet of Athnan has been giving us some trouble lately, the planet’s monarchs have been sneaking drugs into the population of the general public in the hope to keep them under control. The drugs they are using happen to have several unpleasant side effects and are particularly harmful to the young and the elderly, even killing them in some cases.”

Florence grimaced.

“Tonight the monarchs are having a gala to celebrate twenty years of peaceful rule, I want you two to attend the party, and retrieve some information for me. We have taken liberty of securing two invitations to the gala tonight, you two will be posing as the duke and duchess of a fictional planet several light years away.”

I pointed to Florence, “Wait, so I’m supposed to be…” I gestured between Florence and me.

Commander sighed, “Well it was either him or officer Wills so I figured..”

“You know what,” I said quickly, “I bet Florence looks great in a bow tie. I’m assuming we’ll get more details before this evening.”

The Commander handed me two flash drives and I gave one to Florence, “These contain everything you need to know, but you can look at those later, for now you both need to report to Deck E6 for a fitting,” he said.

“A what?” I sputtered.

“Well did you think you would be going to a gala in your real uniforms?” He grunted. “Now go, and try to be back within three hours.”

Florence and I nodded and began towards one of the ships many elevators. I peered down at my reflection in the glassy tiled floors. I still looked 15, my curly hair adding on two extra inches to my already lanky frame, and the freckles that used to dot my face had vanished. I looked up at Florence and sighed.

“What?” He asked, “At least you don’t have to wear a bow tie”

“Yeah, try heels,” I volleyed back. He grinned.

The elevator door dinged and opened onto Deck E6 and we stepped into the costume department of the Intergalactic Red Cross. True, the department is somewhat small, but it’s important. I cannot count the amount of times I have had to dress up, to be someone else. The red uniforms, on top of my wild hair, are very recognizable, and unfortunately I’m wanted on several planets.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said, and we headed in opposite directions towards our respective changing rooms.

I walked down a hallway filled with flowy dresses and skirts hanging from racks and when I arrived Ingrid was already waiting, a sympathetic but amused look on her face as she held out a pair of strappy silver heels in one hand and the other rested on her swollen stomach.

I cringed. Those heels looked painful. “How’s the baby?” I asked.

“She’s doing good, not due for another two months of course.”

“Cool”

“You should see the dress, J, ” she said. “One of the prettiest things I’ve ever made. She opened up the wardrobe in the corner to reveal a sweeping midnight blue dress with sparkling jewels dancing on the bodice.

“It’s beautiful!” I gasped, taking in the long silk skirt so rich of a color that by the time it reached the floor it was almost black.

“Try it on!” Ingrid urged.

I stepped behind the curtain and pulled the dress onto my body, Ingrid came behind the curtain and laced up the back. I slipped on the heels and stepped in front of the full length mirror in the corner. Luckily the dress fit like a glove, I had no doubt in Ingrid’s skill obviously, she is one of the best seamstresses on Cross-12 and probably of the entire organization. The dress clung to the curve of my waist, coming up without sleeves and giving me much more of a chest than I could take credit for. The skirt was the prettiest thing I had ever seen, and the slight glint of the shoes underneath the layers of fabric reminded me that I was about to do a mission in a dress and heels.

“It looks perfect on you,” Ingrid sighed.

I stepped back behind the curtain and changed back into my uniform.

“Now come back in about two hours and I’ll get you ready for tonight.”

I wrapped my arms tightly around her, “Thank you.” My whispers were muffled by her curly black hair.

“No problem.” She said slapping me lightly on the shoulder.

I met up again with Florence who had a very disgruntled look on his face.

“Was the suit not your color?” I teased.

He stood up and ruffled my already disheveled hair. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

We made our way to my room and sat down on the worn purple couch in the middle of the room that had been given to me by a family about a year ago when I rescued their young daughter from an arranged marriage. I picked up my knitting needles and pulled out a quilt that I was working on for Ingrid’s baby.

Florence plugged his flash drive into my TV and pictures of mountains came up onto the screen.

“Looks cold.” I shivered.

“Well wear one of your sweaters.”

“Ha ha,” I responded.

The briefing gave us more info and told us what information we were to extract. Then we watched Mean Girls again and by then it was time to get ready for the mission.

We went back down to the costume section and I put a weapons garter on each of my legs, slipping a blaster in one and a few butterfly knives in the other. Ingrid put me back in the dress. I slipped on the heels and Ingrid pulled my hair up in a sweeping updo with a few tendrils hanging down here and there. She gave me a pair of butterfly earrings and wrapped a small diamond necklace around my throat.

“Now…,” she said. “For makeup.”

“Do I have to?” I whined.

“Well you can’t look like you when you go,” she teased. “I’m sure there’s going to be at least one person there whose leader you killed once.”

I laughed dryly.

She pulled out a tube of foundation and spread a thin layer over my face, added a thin dusting of glitter over my eyelids, and dabbed a darkly colored lip stain over my lips. Ingrid stood back and clapped her hands.

“Done!”

“So how do I look?” I asked, going over to stand in front of the mirror.

“Let’s just say that Hunter boy will wish he’d never dropped you, now go save the world.”

I hugged her one last time and gave a fleeting glance at my reflection in the mirror. The makeup made me appear older than I really was. I walked down the hallway and caught a glimpse of Florence… and promptly burst into laughter. I walked more into the room to see him standing in a suit, looking rather unhappy. He saw me and doubled over as well.

“You look like a cake!” He gasped.

“You look like someone killed your cat,” I wheezed.

We both stood gasping our sides as the laughter subsided.

“The dress suits you,” he commented.

“Thanks,” I replied, “I think pregnancy has made Ingrid more amicable.”

Together we walked to the deck where we were supposed to meet Commander. When we got there Hunter was waiting for us and I shuddered when he ran his eyes up and down my body.

“Uh, the uh commander will see you now,” he sputtered quickly. I bit my lip to keep from laughing as he almost tripped over the floor as he walked away. Florence and I discreetly high-fived.

“I don’t think he looked at you like that even when you two were together,”Florence chuckled, “Which I hated by the way,The little slimeball.”

“I know but that was ages ago, now come on, it’s time to go wreak some havoc.”

I knocked on the door and Florence and I stepped into a room that was occupied by Commander and several other officers, after being given our earpieces and emergency code words we boarded a ship piloted by another operative that had been painted black with some random complicated looking insignia on the side.

I always have loved flying in the smaller spaceships and looking outside at the stars. I look at Florence as we descend into Athnan’s atmosphere.

“So Duke Eddingford, are you ready for the Gala?”

He smirks. “Absolutely Duchess Eddingford. It should be fun.”

We pulled down into official airspace and were met by a security bot, which after hearing us state who we were, took our retinal and fingerprint scans, I don’t actually have fingerprints, they were burned off in training to make me harder to trace, sounds cruel but it’s safer for me to keep a low profile. The bot then instructed us in a computerized voice to follow the green lights into the walls of the palace in which we would be escorted to a reserved landing strip.

As we entered the palace walls I couldn’t help but gasp as I took in our surroundings. The palace was beautiful, the roof looked like alabaster clouds, dotted with flowers and diamonds. The palace itself was gargantuan, covered in what looked like thousands of crystals and fragments of nebulas and exploding stars. I turned to Florence. “You have to draw this,” I told him, he nodded in agreement. I turned back to the window to find that we had landed on one of the many airstrips. It was surrounded by large trees that twinkled with fairy lights as ethereal figures floated through branches greeting each other cordially as glowing butterflies flew around their shoulders. All of this appeared vivid to my eyes in the dark night sky. Florence sighed beside me and our pilot pressed a button opening the hatch. I took the stairs slowly, taking in more of the view whilst simultaneously trying not to trip over the hem of my dress. The air of the planet felt light and dreamlike, and I assumed it was the drugs that they had slipped into the air. As we walked down the runway we were met with a man who instructed us to give him our arms. We held them out and he poked them with a sharp needle.

“What does this do?” I asked him.

“It will help you acclimate to the atmosphere as it is thinner than the one you are used to on…” He picked up his clipboard tablet and scrolled down a list of names. “Psémata, you two would be Duke and Duchess Eddingford then wouldn’t you?”

We nodded our heads in confirmation. He hurriedly led us towards a set of large double doors at one end of the palace. As we closed in on the large structure, I took another glance around me. Instead of beauty and wonder I saw monsters and pain. The sparkling trees were nothing more than dead wood, the beautiful spirits nothing more than addicts and the homeless milling about the courtyards and being kept in line by security guards with electric pulses of light. I gasped in shock as I saw young mothers with crying infants begging the guards for food, only to be met by cold glances and occasional kicks.

“What is it?” Florence whispered, turning to look at me. As he too took in the view, his eyes widened first in shock, then in anger. I grasped his hand tightly.

“Don’t do anything yet., I told him in a hushed voice. “We will fix this.”

We walked into the palace and our coats were taken by a small bot on wheels. The man led us into a large entry hall where the nobility of the universe, rulers of galaxies and planets alike, the founders of empires, were getting drunk on champagne and gambling away more money than most people make in a year. I think back to my own home planet, where food was always scarce, love and happiness even harder to come by. If someone were to ask me why I had such low respect for authority I would simply take them to a party and they would know. The man turns to us.

“If you look in the corner over there you can see that a few families from planets close by are there. I suggest going over there for now, you might see a few faces you recognize. The royal family will be out shortly.”

Florence and I looked around and immediately I noticed that no one else was wearing blue. I turned nervously to Florence and he put a reassuring hand on my lower back.

“It’s okay,” he told me, “Ingrid knows what she’s doing.”

We walked to the side of the room and a man with a tray walked by offering us champagne, we gratefully accepted and when no one was looking dumped our glasses in a potted plant. All of a sudden horns sounded and the royal family was announced. From the top of the grand staircase a couple appeared, the man was dressed in rich crimson, with gold designs twining around his chest. He wore a cloak that I knew from my research was the mark of a warrior, one who had killed. Though the king was powerful everyone’s eyes were drawn helplessly to the queen. She was in a deep red dress, a corset of gold winding around her waist and wrists in a way that resembled armor. I studied her face, looking for a weakness, a chink in her armor. Our eyes met, hers searching and passive, she didn’t want to be here I could tell, probably though it was a waste of resources. The king besides her waved merrily and she curtsied elegantly, the hall erupted in cheers.

“According to my chip,” Florence quietly said, “The Queens favorite color is blue.”

Realization dawned on me. “Very clever Ingrid, very clever.”

The couple walked down the stairs and began to greet their guests as everyone else relaxed and began to mill about the room. After a while they finally made their way to us. The Queen smiled at me.

“You look vaguely familiar,” she said to me, the smile turning slightly suspicious, “Have we met before?”

I gulped and glanced nervously at Florence.

END OF PART ONE

-Maebh Arden

#science fiction

1 note · View note

neewtmas · 6 years

Text

{#43} connection // newt

fandom: the maze runner

pairing: newt x reader

word count: 4k words

request: by anonymous

summary: y/n is a runner in the maze of group b, and one day she discovers a path that shouldn’t even exist and which leads her into a new, unknown part of the maze. She finds her way to a glade full of boys where she meets Newt, with whom she shares some kind of connection.

a/n: a little imagine after a really long time (I’m so so sorry for the long wait anon) and I feel like it’s absolute shit (tho @preciousnewt assured me it’s not that terrible lol). I struggled so bad with this and I don’t even know why, though I hope my writers block is cured now. Enjoy <3

a/n 2.0: there seems to be some weird glitch with the text that I can’t fix, so just read it on my blog because it should work there

masterlist

“Please be careful”, Sonya said as she hugged me. I tightened my ponytail and fastened my backpack with my lunch and my running gear with the attached knives once again and nodded.

“As always.”

I gave her a last smile and started jogging down the narrow corridor. I noticed an immediate change as I stepped from the sunny glade into the maze, a cold breeze brushing over the exposed skin of my arms and making me shiver. But I had learned to ignore the uneasy feeling that consumed me every time I entered the huge maze because I knew as long as I took the right turns and came back in time, I was safe.

I turned around corners, running the way I had memorized so long ago and focused on breathing slowly and steadily so that I wouldn’t run out of air so fast - that was the first thing every runner got taught. Occasionally I cut off some of the vines hanging from the massive grey walls that seemed to come closer the longer I ran.

After a few hours of running and cutting off vines, I decided to take my lunch break at my usual spot. I pushed back strands of hair that had come loose from my ponytail and dug my small lunch package out of my backpack.

Somehow being in the maze felt weird today, as if something had changed, yet I couldn’t explain where this feeling came from.

A brief glance at my wristwatch showed me it was time to start running again if I wanted to finish my whole sector and come back in time. I got up, stretched quickly and then started running again.

It was only a few hours later that I realized I had no idea where I was. This was not my section anymore, that much I knew. But neither was it one of the sections next to mine, which I also knew by heart after running them for several months.

It was almost as if I were in a totally different maze. But this was impossible, right?

The beeping of the watch slung around my wrist interrupted my thoughts, making me aware of how much time already passed.

If I wanted to make it back in time, I had to turn around now. There was no time left.

I almost didn’t make it back this night, just because it took me quite some time to figure out to the way back to my section. The walls were already closing when I sprinted over the hard concrete towards them, squeezing me through in the last second and collapsed on the ground from exhaustion, trying to calm my racing heart that beat as if it hadn’t realized yet that I wasn’t even running anymore.

Sonya, who had waited for me just like every other day, kneeled down next to me and brushed away some of the hair strands that stuck to my hot and sweaty face.

“Y/N, what happened?! Why are you so late?”

I forced my eyes open only to see her worried expression as she hovered over me.

“Nothing happened”, I spoke through heavy breaths, trying to calm her down, and when my erratic heartbeat had somewhat slowed, I extended my hand towards her.

She immediately knew what I wanted from her and took my hand, pulling me to my feet.

I raised my arms over my head and stretched, groaning as I felt the bones in my back crack. “It was just… weird today, I guess.”

She followed me as I walked over to the homestead, eager to get to the showers to wash off all the dirt and sweat and relax my aching muscles.

“What do you mean with weird?”

“Well, I was running, and suddenly I wasn’t in my section anymore. And it wasn’t one of the sections next to mine either. It was... as if I were in a whole new maze”, I said as we reached my room and I opened the door.

“Wait, a whole new maze? That’s not possible. Are you sure?”

I rummaged in my dresser for some clean clothes. “That’s the thing, I’m not. I’m gonna have to take a closer look at it tomorrow.”

“Do you want to take one of the other runners with you?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s necessary, it’s probably nothing anyway. But I’ll take a shower now.”

After we had had dinner and sat around a small fire for a while, I was now laying in my hammock slightly swaying back and forth, a thin blanket tightly wrapped around me.

I tried to close my eyes and sleep, but even though I was unbelievably tired, sleep wouldn’t come.

What happened in the maze today just didn’t stop preying on my mind. After I almost fell out of my hammock two times because I was turning and shifting around so much to find a somewhat comfortable position, I gave up. Sighing I sat up and removed the blanket from over my body and swung my legs over the edge of the hammock.

I slipped on my shoes and quietly made my way around the sleeping girls, careful to wake no one up.

I made my way through the fields to the room where we stored the maps we had started to sketch down after we ran the maze for the first time.

Flinching at the loud creak the wooden door made as I pushed it open with shoulder, I slipped into the room and searched in my pockets for the matches, before I lit two candles and placed them on the table in the middle.

In the warm glow of the candlelight I unerringly grabbed the stack with the maps of sector 4 - the one I had been running today - and spread them out on the table.

Today was the tenth day of the month, so I let my eyes wander over the pieces of paper in front of me until I finally found the one with a 10 scribbled in the upper left corner.

I pulled out one of the old chairs from under the table and sat down, leaning over the map.

The darkness that surrounded me and was only interrupted by the two flickering candles made the lines on the paper hard to see, so I lit a third candle and placed them all closer to me after I had pulled my hair up in a ponytail so I wouldn’t accidentally set it on fire.

Now I was able to read the map a lot better and began to trace along the lines with my finger, starting at the entrance of the maze and recreating the way I had taken this morning.

But it didn’t make sense at all.

Wherever I had run, it was not on the map. Wherever I had run, it shouldn’t even be possible.

Had my mind just played a trick on me? Or maybe, for some unknown reason, the maze had changed differently?

Because I didn’t have any better ideas I started to do the same to the maps of all other days, starting with the first.

Two hours later my eyes were stinging and constantly threatened to just fall shut, I had to blink every few seconds to keep my vision from blurring too much and yet I still had found nothing.

The whole thing was literally impossible, and I tried to convince myself that I had just imagined everything, but there still this small voice in the back of my mind that told there was something.

The next morning I could barely climb out of my hammock because staying up too late really got to me apparently and I dragged myself to the kitchen where Sonya already sat, eating.

She was the only person here who didn’t be a runner yet still woke up just as early as we did, mostly to wish us luck. It had become a ritual I really wouldn’t want to miss.

“You look terrible” were Sonya’s first words as I plopped down on the bench opposite to her.

I just squinted my eyes at her and started to eat. “I was in the map room the whole night”, I said after a few bites, and Sonya looked up, focusing her whole attention on me. “I tried to recreate the path I took yesterday. And must have been some kind of weird trick, because it’s absolutely not possible, even if the maze changed differently.”

Sonya blinked a few times, deep in thought. “Well, then it’s probably nothing. Maybe you were just tired?”

I shrugged. “Could be. I haven’t slept all that well in the last few nights. Keep having these weird dreams.”

“It’s nothing that could help us in any way. Just blurred imagines and stuff”, I added at her excited expression. “And this boy. Well, I’m pretty sure it’s a boy, though I can barely see his face because I wake up every time.”

“Ooh, you dream of a boy? Why didn’t you tell me”, Sonya giggled, making me roll my eyes.

“Shut up. Anyways, I’m gonna test it out again today. I would have followed the path yesterday already, but it was too late.”

“And you are sure that you want to do it alone? I’d feel better if you took someone with you”, Sonya said, finishing her sandwich and taking a sip of her water.

I nodded. “I don’t wanna keep another runner from doing their usual sector. I’m sure it’s nothing anyway.”

Sonya still didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t argue any further, so when I finished my breakfast, I went over to the map room to pack my usual backpack and get into my running gear.

The whole time I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened yesterday. It was like my brain couldn’t accept the obvious like there was this little voice somewhere in the back of my head telling me it was more than I thought.

I knew I needed to get my mind off these things, I had to concentrate on running – not being focused 100 % could easily end deadly.

After I collected myself and said goodbye to Sonya as usual, I went into the maze, taking the exact path I did yesterday, just this time I didn’t bother with mapping down anything and also didn’t cover all the little side corridors like I usually would. All for the sake of reaching the part that had felt so weird yesterday with enough time to properly investigate everything.

I soon realized that one of the corridors I had run down yesterday which was supposed to be a dead end actually wasn’t anymore. It was like the wall had just disappeared, which was impossible.

I decided to just keep running and seeing where this new part of the maze would lead to – maybe it was a possible escape route?

After running a few hours without anything in my surroundings changing I turned around a corner and came to an abrupt stop as I came to face the gap in the wall down the corridor, opening to a wide green.

My gaze fell on a blonde boy standing right at the entrance, seemingly waiting for someone, just like Sonya usually waited for me every evening.

He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants, tapping his feet on the ground and then he looked up and run both of his hands through his hair in exasperated motion, abruptly stopping as he locked eyes with me.

His eyes widened, mouth falling open when suddenly several things happened at once. A low rumbling filled the air, and the walls at the end of the corridor started to close slowly.

I knew I should run, run over to the stranger at the other side of the door – it was my only way to not get stuck in this other, this unfamiliar part of the maze that was probably just as deadly as the one I’ve been running for years.

Suddenly someone came from behind and grabbed my wrist, yanking me forward. I yelped, almost stumbling over my own feet as the boy dragged me over the stone floor. It was as if he had ripped me out of my daze and I managed to regain my balance, sprinting towards the fast closing stone walls scraping over the ground.

“Minho!”, the blonde boy yelled, and the boy running next to me sped up even more and threw himself through the gap, pulling me with him.

The doors closed with a loud thud, and the boy lets go of my wrist, bending over and panting heavily.

“Minho, are you okay?!”, the blonde boy pressed and grabbed the other's shoulder, almost shaking him. “Why are you so late?”

I immediately noticed that he had the same, definitely foreign accent Sonya spoke with.

“I came across a griever...”, he said, his breathing slowly returning to normal. “But I’m okay.”

Just now they seemed to realize that I was standing next to them and turned towards me.

The blonde boy looked me up and down, and I stared back. And as weird as it probably sounds, the longer I looked at him, the more he seemed like someone I had met before.

But still, I crossed my arms defensively in front of my body. “Where am I?”, I asked, sounding harsher than I had intended.

“Who are you? Why are you in the maze? Why are you –“ The tall, muscular guy – Minho – who had pulled me in here straightened his back and crossed his arms as well, trying to stare me down.

“Minho, stop it”, the blond said sharply and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Who are you?”, he then asked, wearing a tight-lipped smile.

“Y/N…”, you slowly replied. “Where am I? Why am I here?”

“That’s the question we should ask”, the blonde boy said. “But I’m Newt, and that’s Minho. And you’re in the glade.”

“How is that possible”, I murmured quietly, more talking to myself.

“Where are you coming from anyways?”, Minho said, his voice laced with slight annoyance.

“From my glade”, I said.

“Wait, there’s another glade?”

“There’s another maze. Though it shouldn’t be possible for me to be here. The path I ran shouldn’t even exist based on what our maps say.”

“Your maps?”

The blond boy was just absentmindedly repeating what I said and I watched him scrunching his eyebrows together in deep thought.

The strange feeling of familiarity only grew as I was watching him, and when he spoke again, it was like I snapped out of a trance.

“Minho, we’re going to the map room. Right now. And you’re gonna show her all of our maps.”

Minho didn’t seem too happy about this order, but Newt seemed to be some kind of authority figure around here because all it took was a stern look from him and Minho sighed, turning around and starting to walk away.

He obviously expected me to follow him so I did, trying not to look at Newt again. I didn’t want him to think you were weird, for whatever reason.

Soon you reached a little hut, the map room as Newt had called it, and Minho pulled a key out of nowhere, opening the old, rusty-looking lock at the door with a loud creak after fiddling the key in the small hole.

The door swung open, revealing a dimly lit room with one round table in the middle and several crates and dressers at the walls.

Minho immediately proceeded to pull one of the wooden crates from the corner into the middle of the room, opening it and starting to spread out different stacks of paper on the table.

“Here”, he curtly said, motioning to the papers. “Eight sectors, 28 cards for –“ “For each month”, I finished for him and went to take a closer look.

Newt and Minho exchanged a look behind my back before they waited for me to say something.

I examined the maps, and after only a few minutes of studying the quickly scribbled-down lines, I was sure.

“Your maps are exactly the same as ours”, I said, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I turned around.

“The mazes are the same. And just like on our maps, the path I took isn’t possible on yours.”

This seemed to spark Minho’s interest because the scowl on his face disappeared and got replaced by a more or less neutral expression. “Show me”, he said, and I took one of the maps.

“See, here”, I pointed at one of the corridors drawn on the paper. “It’s supposed to be a dead end, but it isn’t anymore. I didn’t realize at first that I was able to keep running instead of having to turn around like usually when I run this sector. But that’s where the two mazes apparently have their connection.”

Minho was quiet for a few moments. “You’re gonna show this to me tomorrow. We have to check that, it’s the first abnormality in over three years. Maybe it’s a hint or something.”

“Let’s talk about this during dinner”, Newt interrupted our thoughts and I followed the two boys out of the map room and over to the largest building in this place. It looked totally different to what we had so I figured they had built it themselves, just like we had to build our own shelter.

Newt led me to a separate table while Minho went to join a few other boys. “You’re surely hungry, right?”, he asked, and I nodded absentmindedly, examining my surroundings.

I watched him walk over to an old table where he grabbed two plates and seemed to exchange a few words with the dark-skinned boy behind the table. He wore a rather dirty apron, so he must be the one responsible for cooking.

When Newt came back I noticed his limp and I briefly wondered if I should ask about it, but quickly dismissed this thought again. Things like this were often deeply personal and I didn’t want to come across as overly curious and invade his privacy. I would have to find a better conversation starter.

He gave me one of the plates and we started eating. I could feel the stares of the boys burn into me and it made me somewhat uncomfortable, but I knew that we would’ve been the same if suddenly a boy appeared in our maze so I forced myself to just ignore it.

I finished before Newt, and I couldn’t help myself but watch him. There was something about him that made it almost impossible for me to look away, and it was not only his insanely attractive face – though that didn’t exactly help – but more. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but I knew it was there.

“Do I have something on my face?”, he suddenly asked, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips, obviously noticing my gaze trained on him.

“What?”, I snapped out, feeling the blood rushing to my face. “No! I mean, sorry. I was just… thinking.”

“Thinking”, he repeated. “About what?”

“You seem somewhat familiar to me, and I don’t know what it is.”

He thought for a few moments. “You do too”, he finally said, slowly, as if he were unsure about his own words.

“It’s like a memory in the back of my mind, but every time I try to concentrate on it, it –“

“- It just slips away?”, finished Newt, voicing my exact thoughts.

“Yes. It’s like the things you can’t see until you don’t look directly at them anymore. I just can’t seem to grasp anything real.”

He ran his hand through his hair, shrugging. “I know just as much as you do.”

After we had returned our plates he led me to a watch tower at the edge of the small forest that spread from one of the corners of the glade.

I followed him up the creaking and slightly brittle ladder and we sat down on the wooden planks, our feet dangling off the edge.

A soft breeze rustled the leaves on the trees below us and the last rays of sunshine drowned the edges of the glade in golden light as we sat in comfortable silence, my legs slowly swaying back and forth.

After the sun had disappeared behind the high stone walls, the light quickly got duller.

Newt and I talked about everything and nothing until darkness filled the glade and I was almost falling asleep while sitting, it felt like we’ve known each other for years and not just one evening.

Apparently, only one boy was actually interested enough in me to come up the ladder and have a brief conversation, a little boy named Chuck. He was bubbly and happy and told us that Minho had informed everyone about me, why I was here, how I got into the glade and that seemed enough for everyone to pay no further attention to me.

I was glad about it really, being able to have a long conversation with Newt without any noteworthy interruptions.

My faintly glimmering watch told me that it was almost midnight when Newt suggested going to bed, and since he didn’t want me to sleep outside between all the other boys, he insisted that I’d get his room.

“I can’t just have you sleep outside alone, god knows which kinda ideas those shanks get. You’ll sleep in my room, I’ll just go to Minho”, he said while we were walking through the darkness.

“That won’t be necessary”, I protested. “I don’t think Minho would be too excited about you waltzing into his room and waking him up in the middle of the night. We can both just sleep in your room, I’ll take the floor.”

Newt turned his head to me and looked like I had just suggested to go in the maze for the night and cuddle with one of the grievers.

“Are you kidding me? I’m not gonna let this happen. I’m taking the floor.”

Newt didn’t allow any further discussions about the sleeping arrangements and so he settled down on the wooden tiles next to the bed where I was comfortably wrapped in the covers.

Now that I thought about it I wouldn’t have any issues with Newt sleeping into the bed with me but I knew there was no possible excuse as to why I wanted him to sleep next to me, so I just kept quiet until I eventually drifted off into sleep.

The next morning after breakfast I went into the maze with Minho. We jogged next to each other in silence, not really knowing what to say to each other. This strengthened the impression I had with Newt, the impression that I somehow knew him.

Everything with him came so naturally, there was no way for us to not have had some connection before the maze.

“This is it. This is the corridor I came out”, I informed Minho as we finally reached it, but when I turned around the final corner, I was not greeted with an open path, but a massive stone wall that towered above me as if it had never been any different.

I stopped dead in my track, causing Minho to almost run into me. “What’s up? Why did you to – Oh.” He too stopped for a moment, but then walked towards the wall, lightly knocking against it.

“Are you sure you came out of this corridor. Maybe –“

“No. I’m absolutely, 100 percent sure”, I interrupted him, making my way to the wall and tentatively reaching out for it with my hands, somehow having the irrational hope it would simply disappear when I touched it.

But it didn’t. And only when my fingertips lightly grazed about the cold concrete, I realized what this really meant. I couldn’t go back.

thanks for reading:)

tags: @preciousnewt @shutupminho @icharleecongrevemultifandomsblog @just2amthings @shuckface-shank07 @221buckythesoldier (if you wanna be added/removed, message me:)

#newt #tmr newt #newt x reader #tmr newt x reader #tmr x reader #tmr #tdc #anon #request

172 notes · View notes

theonewiththefanfics · 6 years

Text

A Pirate’s Soul (part 2)

Part 1

Pairing: Will Turner x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: swearing

Genre: fluff

Word count: 2987

Y/N slowly felt her eyes flutter open. It was dark, but not full on. Not like Bucky’s room where he had to cover up the giant windows because he had trouble sleeping. More like her own. Bits and pieces of the never-resting New-York city filtering inside the room, beige walls cast in an orange glow. But of course, she wasn’t in New York anymore. With a groan, Y/N propped herself up on her elbows, but a gentle palm pushed her back on the hard surface that turned out to be what looked like a sailor’s cot. “Easy,” it was the girl- Elizabeth. “How are you feeling?” “Like a red-hot poker was showed up through my ass and my brain, scrambling it like an egg.” The other woman snorted. “Don’t you have a way with words.” Y/N pressed a palm against a throbbing temple. “So I’ve been told.” She looked around noting that the light was coming from above, meaning the sun was still above the ground. “How long was I out?” “A couple of hours. Cleaned as many wounds as I could, but couldn’t change your clothes. Couldn’t find how to… open it.” Her brown eyes roamed over Y/N’s tactical suit as if a hidden hook would suddenly appear and she’d drop naked then and there. “Would be surprised if you did.” When were zippers invented? 1890’s something? Y/N honestly didn’t know what to do. Will her being here change the outcome of the history? Or was it one of those timelines when nothing mattered what she’d do because everything had already happened before? In all honesty, Y/N couldn’t give two shits about it because of a headache she sported right now.

Her palm clasped around where her neckline was and she pulled back a piece of cloth, the velcro detaching itself as she unclasped a smaller piece that held a large string attached to the zipper on her back. It made it easier for her to get dressed on her own, as well as she didn’t have to worry about flashing someone in the middle of a battle. Elizabeth’s cheeks heated up and when Y/N saw how flustered she got, even though there wasn’t that big of a difference between one woman’s body and another, the Avenger still offered her the chance to leave. “But I’m not naked underneath that and I would prefer if you stayed. This thing can be a bitch to take off.” And it was. Any time after a mission she asked either Bucky or Nat or hell, even Sam to help her get rid of it. Bucky being her best friend, they didn’t have any reservations before one another. Even then, when Bucky had forcefully pulled off the last leg of her suit, the material still just as snug and light, courtesy of Stark, Y/N was left in a bulletproof sports bra, a bulletproof tank top and booty shorts. “It’s very tight,” Elizabeth remarked as she flexed every muscle in her arms, abdomen and legs to get the cloth off of Y/N. “Meant to protect you while in battle. Nimble as a second skin so you don’t feel it while fighting, though I might have to ask Stark for some improvements in the removal section.” Y/N finally took a breath as she felt the ankles loosen and saw Elizabeth holding the shredded material. Looking down there were no visible injuries on her stomach, but her legs, shoulders and arms sported nasty cuts as well as deep gashes from claws. “What.. umm.. what do you want me to do with this?” the girl looked over at the Y/H/C beauty. Y/N’s heart clenched. She really had loved the suit. It had been a gift from Nat on her birthday, but the state of it, how it looked now- it’d be completely useless. There was no point in stitching it together, thread by thread. “Burn it. Throw it out. It doesn’t matter. It’s unusable now.” “A-Are you sure?” “Yeah,” Y/N let out a deep sight, “it’s pointless.” Elizabeth’s hands slid over the material, marvelling at how beautiful and practical it was. Or used to be in Y/N’s opinion. But unbeknownst to her, she stashed it in a chest in a deep corner. Y/N stood there in what basically was her underwear. She pulled the black tank top off, leaving her in just the sports bra, so she could check what damage had been done to the dark material. Thankfully not much. Some slashes, but comparing it to the tactical suit, it was still wearable. Pulling it back on, her Y/E/C eyes saw Elizabeth reemerge from the dark holding a large white shirt, some sand coloured pants, black knee-high boots and what looked like a corset. “These are probably way too big for you, but the belt should keep it in place, you can lace it up in the back to tighten it,” the girl laid the materials down on the cot. “And the boots… well, you should just try pulling them on and well see about the size.” Y/N fingered the cotton tunic. It was a lot softer than she expected, woven with care and love. Pulling it overhead, there was a deep V-neck gash, almost past her breasts, and it really was way too big for her frame, so she pushed her legs through the pant holes and tucked the shirt in. Elizabeth handed a smaller belt to pull it through the belt holes, but as the girl had predicted, the clothes were still too large for her frame. She stepped through the corset-like thing and pulled it over her slacks and the shirt. Elizabeth went to work, lacing the black ribbon up, but not so tightly that Y/N couldn’t breathe and would pass out from the lack of oxygen. While the other woman was doing that the Avenger was idly playing with the two strings of her shirt, wrapping and unwrapping it around her finger. “Okay, you’re all done. Now just the boots.” Y/N had completely forgotten that the combat suit had connected footwear, so she was standing there only in her socks. The boots looked around her size, so here was hoping for nothing. And it would look like they had struck gold. Y/N was surprised how comfortable they actually were, but she rolled down the bit that went past her knee, hating how it flapped against her thigh. “I… umm..,” Elizabeth stepped forward holding six razor-sharp knives in her hand as well as Y/N’s own modified pistol, “I guess I have to give these back to you, though I have no idea what kind of holsters I can give to you…” Her knife and gun belts had been physically attached to the suit, rather than pulling them on, they were already a part of the outfit, so there would be no use for her to cut them off as they wouldn’t fit with what Y/N was wearing now. She flipped two of her knives in the air and crisscrossed them behind the belt on her back, putting two by her sides and then two in the front, the thin handles disappearing being the black material, not even making an indent. If you didn’t know that Y/N possessed them, you’d never know how armed she actually was. And the bulletproof top would protect her from any cuts that may result. For the gun though, that would be a problem. “Umm… hmm… Give me the most basic holster you have and we'll see what we can do. The one Elizabeth provided was for a muzzleloader. In Y/N’s time, they were antiques and relics. Here they were actual weapons. The girl looked at it from all sides and producing one of the knives she sliced the end off making it more like a cylinder rather than a cone. Putting on the safety she gently slid the gun to check if the tightness of the leather would be enough and it was. The gun snugly fit into the holster as if it was made for it. Y/N strapped it across her middle, even though she usually preferred it to be around her thighs or ankles, this one wouldn’t fit. Elizabeth’s eyes roamed over Y/N as if in astonishment and in awe. She really looked like she belonged there. “I think you’re ready.” “For what?” “To meet everyone. I’m assuming you really aren’t from somewhere nearby.” Y/N snorted at that. “If only you had any idea.” “So I’m assuming you’re going to be spending quite a lot of time here, seeing as we’re only in the middle of our journey and the closest port is at least two to three weeks away. Depending on what kind of trouble Jack gets into.” “Jack? Who’s Jack?” “Nothing but trouble,” she replied over her shoulder as she lead Y/N up the wooden stairs and right onto the deck. The ship was full of life, men running around and pulling ropes to let something loose or tighten things up. Of course, as expected when Y/N stepped onto the floor everything quieted down and stopped moving, but a man’s gruff voice pulled them out of the trance. “Back to work, ya filthy rats!” It was dreadlocks who bellowed from the steering deck. “I would presume that is Jack,” Y/N leaned into Elizabeth, but the other woman didn’t get a chance to answer. “You would be presuming correctly. Captain Jack Sparrow,” he said coming down the steps and taking one of Y/N’s palms to press a kiss on it, making the girl scrunch up her face in confusion. “Welcome aboard the Black Pearl- fastest ship in the Caribbean sea.” “Thanks… I guess…” “So darling,” he threw an arm around Y/N’s shoulders leading her up the deck, “why don’t you tell me who you are, where are you from and how in the bloody hell did you suddenly appear on my ship?” He was being quite cheeky about things so Y/N decided to play along. “A girl’s gotta have some secrets, otherwise where would be the fun?” “You,” he pointed a finger at her, a bright red ruby sitting on it. “I like you.” Y/N mirrored the smirk that was plastered on his face. “So, where exactly in the Caribbean sea are we? As much as I’ve enjoyed your hospitality I think I need to get back home.” “And where would home be for you, love?” “New York.” Y/N looked over at the endless horizon. Oh, how far away she was from home. And it would seem like Jack could read minds, echoing her thought. There was almost an understanding look in his eyes. “You’ve travelled a long way from there, haven't you?” “Very,” Y/N let out a deep sight, resting her arms on the railing. “Elizabeth told me that the closest port is a two, three-week journey. Which port exactly are we talking about?” “Tortuga,” a wicked smile made its way onto Jack’s face. “Best place on earth for a pirate.” Y/N could only chuckle, not even remotely surprised that they were pirates. Their clothing gave it away and the giant black flag with a skull and two crossed swords was a dead giveaway. The girl relished in the salty breeze of the sea. She’d always wanted to visit exotic places, but her job had made it quite difficult to get even a day off. And then there was Bucky. Her best friend in the whole world. He was just getting accustomed to living in the tower and apart from Steve, he clung to the girl like a koala. Not that Y/N minded. She’d gotten attached to the ex-assassin too and if there was any possible way she could help with his recovery she’d drop everything in a heartbeat. “Doll, you need to take a day off, treat yourself. I hate that you can’t do anything worthwhile because you’re stuck here with me,” he’d said to the girl after an intense workout session. “Buck,” she had grasped his unshaven chin between her fingers, “you can’t get rid of me. Me staying here is my and only my choice. And if it means having to sit through therapy with you or have a few sleepless nights, then that is it. As long as you’re getting better, it’s all that matters to me and if I have any way of helping you through it, I will. So don’t start with this bullshit, okay?” He’d only smiled and kissed the girl on the cheek, pulling her in for a tight hug. “I love you, you know that?” “Might have said it a few times.” What wouldn’t the girl give just to feel safe between her friend's arms, instead of being stuck in the past on a pirate ship. Her Y/E/C eyes caught movement to her left and ascending the stairs was the man with the longish hair. The one with the chocolate eyes and sharp cheekbones. Will. “Hello.” His voice was quiet. Like a warm summer breeze. “Hello.” Y/N replied a small smile playing on her lips as she turned fully to face the man. “I’m Will Turner.” “Y/N Y/L/N.” “That’s a very beautiful name.” Y/N laughed, shaking her head, the Y/H/C floating around in the breeze. “It’s just a name.” “A very beautiful one at that.” Of course, these were the manners men had in this time period. Back home whenever a guy said something like that or gave a kiss on the top of a girl’s hand, that was more a message of ‘I wanna get in your pants tonight and I’ll pretend not to be an asshole for like two minutes, tell you how pretty your name is and how it perfectly fits you, before I ask you to drop your panties and go for a fuck’. But here, now, it’s just how people were, and Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t appreciate that. The only two people who even remotely said something like that and didn’t mean it in an ‘I wanna fuck you’ kind of way was Steve and Bucky. Even then both of them were from the 40s. “Well thank you,” she smiled looking at Will. “Got it for my birthday.” She couldn’t help herself. Such an opportunity to say that stupid and cheesy joke, she couldn’t just let it pass. He shook his head as is saying ‘I cannot believe how dumb that was’ before coming to stand next to the girl. “Are you alright?” That was a stupid question, but she didn’t say anything. “What do you mean?” “Well after that… thing you put in the water, your nose was bleeding quite heavily and you did pass out.” Her headache had subsided a few minutes after hitting the deck, fresh air filling her lungs, now just a dull pulsating feeling reminded her of the situation she was in only a few hours ago. “Yeah, I am. Thank you for caching me and not letting me split my head open.” He smiled at her, taking her right hand in his and rubbing over her knuckles. The air got caught in Y/N's throat. How can such a small gesture take away her breath like that? “Anytime.” The pair just stood there, looking at one another, eyes roaming over the stranger before them. There was this attraction that neither could explain, but it wasn’t bad. No, not at all. Their moment was disrupted by the lanky man with a wooden eye, rushing up to Jack. “Captain! Redcoats!” Everyone’s heads turned to look where he was pointing over their shoulders. A tiny speck near the horizon, nothing more than that. Jack pulled out a telescope and produced a beautiful array of swears, leaving even Y/N shocked. “Everyone get your weapons!” he bellowed over the ship, sending the men scattering every which way. “Didn’t you say that this is the fastest ship in the Caribbean?” Y/N turned to look at the captain. An idea had crossed her mind that she could ask them to let her on their ship, but she immediately dispelled it. They were the government. And anytime Y/N had gotten involved with that it never ended well for her. Most of the times in handcuffs. So she wasn’t going to get shackled in the 18th fucking century. Who knows what they’d do to her. Salem witch trials had happened probably not more than a few decades before, and her powers, that she could feel rumbling under her skin would definitely make her a witch. “Can you fight?” it was Will asking her, Jack not even bothering to answer her question as he rushed off to somewhere himself. “Did you not see my grand entrance?” “I meant are you well enough to fight?” He was handing her a long sword, probably noting only the gun by her side. Truthfully Y/N probably wasn’t but the adrenaline was already rushing through her veins and the newly unleashed magic wanted to come out and play. She clasped the handle of the sharp weapon. “I was born to do this.”

Tags (crossed out couldn’t be tagged, sorry loves): @fandamad @josislife @madelonj @serieuxnoir @marvel-fanfiction @lostxsea @dschessikai

A/N: tell me what you think :) and tomorrow I won’t be posting anything. Probably there will be no updates for the rest of working days. I’m going to see Imagine Dragons tomorrow and then I’ll focus on my assignments :)

P.S. wanna be tagged in future parts or have any requests? drop a message

P.S.S. please don’t repost without credit :)

307 notes · View notes

xxxdragonfucker69xxx · 6 years

Text

Shadow's first thought as he returned slowly to consciousness was that a barrel of firedust had gone off inside the Sanctuary. Well, that was his second thought. His first thought was that his head fucking hurt.

He was on the back of the sofa, which had been overturned so that its back was now a flat surface and its cushions were a wall. Something red was on the floor a centimeter from his face; Shadow blinked until it came into focus as a flimsy red cup.

Oh. Right.

On top of him, someone groaned. Shadow tilted his head up to see; he was at the bottom of a pile four men deep. Seal's legs were across Shadow's torso, though most of the boy's body was on the floor; above him was Harvester, with a blackened right eye, and atop them all was the new boy.

Broken Star Doomed to Fall groaned again, rousing slightly. Unfortunately, the motion caused him to unbalance, and the young Abyssal snapped awake as he crashed to the ground -- directly onto Seal's prone form. There was a clang as Star's metal wings met the floor on either side, then a beat, then a yelp as Seal realized what was on top of him and started thrashing. Star was apologizing, trying to get off, but the Wings seemed uncooperative today and were weighing him down. Shadow closed his eyes, channeled Essence into the shield of his anima, and concentrated on extricating himself.

Finally he made it out and stood next to Harvester, who apparently had the same idea; both their castemarks were bleeding, and both were surrounded by wisps of darkness. He met eyes with the other Daybreak, who looked slightly sheepish. "Maybe I shoulda started them with something a little less intense," Harvester said, scratching his head. "Especially for the kid's first big party."

Shadow looked around the room. Paper banners with Nevertheless' immaculate handwriting wishing a beautiful year were strewn across the Sanctuary, most of them ripped or with sections missing. Tower's enormous form was curled up on top of the TV cabinet, which had one door open to show a blank blue screen. Red cups were everywhere, many tipped over in front of incriminating puddles. Desecration was laid out on the nap sofa, a blanket laid over her; someone had drawn a mustache on her face, poorly. A dartboard on the far wall had a hole punctured through its center. As Shadow watched, the dartboard fell off to reveal that the hole went into and through the wood of the wall itself, with singe marks around the edges.

"Perhaps," Shadow said.

Star and Seal separated, finally upright. Star's shirt was completely shredded, either from the spikes in his own body or from the fight. Seal was breathing heavily and a little flushed. "Next time wake me up like a regular fucking person," he was yelling, "not by falling on me with a damn body full of knives."

"Can you pleashe schtop yelling," Star muttered, rubbing his forehead. "I shaid I was schorry. Schol, my head hurtsh."

"Leave him be, Seal," Shadow said, stepping in before the argument escalated any further. "Help me find my eyepatch." He had, indeed, clapped his hand over his bad eye a few moments ago when he realized he was melting the material of the table.

Star perked up visibly at Shadow's words. "Hey, I can do that!" he said. "I'm good at thish!" He took a step, then staggered. "Okay, maybe not sho musch right now. Shadow, can you Medishine Scharm me or shomefing?"

Shadow crossed his arms, though the effect was ruined slightly by having to keep his right eye closed. "I could, yes. But I think you'll be better served by learning a lesson. Consider it my birthday gift to you." Not that that stopped Shadow from quickly performing the Plague-Banishing Incitation on himself.

Star moaned and fell back onto the couch, covering his face with his hands. "Well, thatsh it den," he said. "I'm doomed. I'll die in my shleep. Betrayed, abandoned by my own friendsh --"

Seal was snickering not too quietly in the corner. Harvester tapped Star's forehead with a bottle of beer, miraculously intact. "Hair of the dog," he said. "That one's my birthday gift to you."

Shadow glared at Harvester, who shrugged. "Ain't no need for Charms when you got farm wisdom," he said, tapping the side of his head. Star used the opportunity to pry the bottle-cap off with his metal teeth; behind them, Seal started rapidly picking cushions up and putting them down, muttering to himself. Star chugged the bottle slowly and set it down.

"Whoa," he said, putting his hands out to steady himself. "I actually do feel better." Shadow frowned, then turned away internally to look through his All-Encompassing Sorcerer's Sight. Sure enough, a trail of healing Essence emanated from where Harvester's hand was clapped on Star's shoulder. Harvester caught him looking and shrugged again. "Birthday present", he said in Old Realm. Shadow sighed again.

"Okay," Star said, pulling out a strange hat from his pocket and setting it on his head. He clapped his hands, and Shadow had to admit that he was glad to see Star so happy about something. "Alright, okay, let'sh shee. What was the last fing you remember?"

Shadow frowned and cast his mind back. Vague images floated across his memory: incomprehensible music played that was far too loud for his liking, incomprehensible drinking games Desecration and Seal insisted were de rigueur among the youth. Wait. "Something about.... pinging?" he said. "Beer pinging?"

Star snapped his fingers. "That'sh it!" he exclaimed, leading them over to the main table. There were still two triangles of red cups, mostly upright. "Beer pong! Alright, let'sh try..." The Day Caste spent some time walking around the table, hmming and muttering to himself. "Hah!" he said. "Right here. Shadow, come shtand right here." Shadow raised an eyebrow but went to oblige. Star clapped. "Yeah, that'sh it," the young man said. "You were walking pasht and shomeone got beer all over you. Look, the shtain fitsh right around your feet." Shadow looked down, but the carpet was so full of overlapping stains that he couldn't separate one from another. Hesiesh almighty. Someone was going to have to deal with this later, and it was probably going to be Shadow. Where was Phoenix when you needed him?

Star was still monologuing. "Okay, sho beer got all over your fashe and body, and then you went to.... to wash it off! The baffroom!" He marched over to the bathroom, leading the rest of them in procession -- even Seal, who seemed begrudgingly captivated, and Des, who had woken up and was sauntering along. Star turned the knob of the bathroom's door, and the whole thing fell over on top of him.

"I shwear that washn't my fault," Shtar -- er, Star -- squeaked from underneath it. Seal and Shadow quickly levered it off Star, and leaned it against the wall; Shadow noted that the edges had tape on them, as if someone had tried to hastily repair the door. Star picked himself up and dusted himself off. "Asch I wash schaying," he said loftily, and marched into the bathroom. It was little more than a closet with running water, and the rest of the Abyssals watched from outside the door with interest as Star spun around to take everything in. "Here", he declared, tapping the countertop. "You took the eyepatsch off to wash it, and then left it to dry, but shomeone elshe took it to..." he squinted into the mirror, miming to himself, "to help dry it off. That'sh nishe. Thish way!" He shouldered past them again, eliciting a yelp from Seal and another from Harvester who had to dodge out of the way to avoid upsetting the cup he had picked up from somewhere.

Over the course of their progress around the room, they discovered: several issues of Hotter than Malfeas (which Harv loudly disavowed knowing anything about but quickly claimed "to protect the youngins"), a crudely drawn picture of what appeared to be Seal having sexual congress with a tyrant lizard (which Seal disavowed knowing about but quickly claimed "was sweet as fucking hell and should go on the fridge"), several more stains of unknown composition, a hot pink sphere about the size of an eyeball (which Des claimed without hesitation or explanation except "oh, I was looking for that"), and one of Shadow's favorite arrows, which he washed off and replaced. Finally they came to a stop in the middle of the room. "Trail goesh cold here," Star said, scratching the edge of his mask. "Well, I got one more trick I'fe been wanting to try. Check thish out: Unknown Wishdom Epiffany." He closed his eyes before opening them again, now glowing red. Shadow thought he could see their light falling on silhouettes, like there were invisible things in the room being illuminated only to Star's eyes. Star frowned, peering around the room, before looking above him. "Huh. Doesh anyone have a shtick or shomefing?" Wordlessly, Seal reached into empty air and plucked out a burning mote of light that lengthened into a golden spear nine feet long, which Star used to prod at one of the ceiling panels. Suddenly he dropped the spear and dove to the side, which Shadow took as a cue to do the same.

There was a snort, then a series of thuds, then the ceiling panel fell from the roof carrying a small man clad in spike-studded black armor. He was curled in the fetal position, clutching something to his chest. As the gathered deathknights watched, Phoenix juddered to consciousness in fits and starts, blinking groggily in the fluorescent lights. "Ugh," he said, wincing and squeezing his eyes shut. "I haven't felt this bad since I was dead."

Star tried to keep his laughter in. "What'sch that you got there?" he asked. Phoenix blinked and looked down, uncurling his hand to reveal....Shadow's eyepatch.

Shadow raised his eyebrow and Phoenix handed it over, though Shadow had to stoop down to reach. "Well, hell," the Solar muttered. "No idea how that got there."

"Des dared Tower to try and get you to eat it," Star informed him. All attention flickered to Des, who shrugged. "Sounds like something I'd do," she said, popping a bright pink bubble that had appeared in her mouth. Shadow blinked again. Magic or not, this was too much for him.

"Thank you, Star," he said. "Now everyone get out of here. It is far too early to deal with this, and I am going back to bed."

#sanctuary in black #hour in black #introducing the new friend.......... star

24 notes · View notes

just-jordie-things · 7 years

Text

Weakness - Mitch Rapp

word count: really fuckin long (9269) warnings: swearing, violence, the torture kind, mitch being hot as always

You sat at the kitchen table of your cabin home, a glass of water in your hands as you watched the outdoors curiously. A black SUV had pulled in front of the house, a woman leaving it but you could tell that there were others in it. You stood up, wandering closer and wrapping your cardigan around your tank top and shirts to preserve your warmth as you opened the door, just enough to hear what was going on outside.

“Irene, I don’t approve of it, and neither would your Daddy” Stan spoke to the woman you now remembered. Head of the CIA. You didn’t know Irene well, just that Stan worked under her.

“I’ll be checking in every forty eight hours” She spoke affirmatively, and walked off, getting back in the car. Someone got out, that you couldn’t see until the vehicle drove off. Leaving behind probably the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. Thick shaggy hair and you could tell he was hiding muscles under his big baggy coat. Your brow raised, gaining even more curiosity at the new meat that ad been dropped off.

There hadn’t been any new comers in a few months, so you wondered what made this one so special.

You couldn’t hear well what the new guy and Stan were saying, just that it was tense. You figured Stan didn’t want him there, judging by what he’d told Irene earlier. After a few minutes, one of Stan’s men came up, and led the new guy into the house. You finally stepped outside, leaning over the rail as Stan stood on the steps.

“Who’s the new fella?” You asked, and he gave you a bored look as he lit his cigarette.

“Unwelcome that’s what” He said gruffly. You rolled your eyes, snatching the offending stick from his mouth.

“You’re supposed to be on the patch dad” You told him, putting it out by smushing it on the rail, then flicking it out to the yard. He just rolled his eyes and continued on inside.

You wondered what was to come next.

“This here, the living room” The guard that Mitch had been following said, gesturing into the empty room. “Past that, the kitchen” He continued. “And the dining room, but no one eats too much”

“Usually they go out to eat, get a chance out of this crazy ass place” The man chuckled, but Mitch didn’t say anything.

He wasn’t sure yet if he even wanted to be here. He knew that he could get the job done if he was on his own, he didn’t need some boss telling him what to do and when to do it.

“You guys got some kind of training room or something? Or am I just supposed to beat on a tree?”

“Well that’s rude” Mitch spun on heels, not having expected to see a girl sitting on the kitchen counter. Your ankles crossed as your legs swung back and forth slightly. “What has a tree every do to you?” His brows furrowed, unsure of what to make of you. But you just smirked, rolling your eyes as you looked at Tim, the guard your father had placed with the new guy. “Who’s the new meat?” You ignored the side glance Mitch gave you.

“Rapp, Mitch” Tim told you, handing you the file folder in his hands. “Interested?” Your eyes flickered back over to the shaggy haired man, lashes dangerously low as you looked him up and down.

“Perhaps” You smirked, taking the folder with an inquisitive look on your face as you opened it up.

Expelled by three boarding skills, all dating after his parents died in a car crash. Seemed like the CIA had kept tabs on him since the shooting on the beach in Spain, and you weren’t too surprised to see that his fiance was murdered there.

“Quite an origin story” You said, mostly to yourself as your eyes expertly scanned the different sections on the paper. You cared a little less about the little details, more about why he was recruited. Impressed by what was listed under his skill set, you looked between the two men in front of you, before hopping off the counter, and giving the folder back to Tim.

“Recluse?” Tim asked, as if wondering if you shared the same thoughts. You stared at Mitch for a few moments longer than the average glance, only raising more questions about you from him.

“Perhaps” The word came out slowly before you turned to leave the room. “I’m off to find… Stan” You said carefully, then left. Tim didn’t question the way you didn’t call the man Dad. He knew that for whatever reason, you were messing with Mitch. And it seemed to work.

“Who the hell was that?” Mitch asked in a low voice, hoping that the girl couldn’t hear him from the other room. Jokes on him though, because you stood just on the other side of the doorway.

“She lives here too” Tim said, and you silently thanked him for keeping your identity a mystery. It just adds to the fun.

And with that, you walked off to your quarters to change into workout gear.

You saw him again while you were in the middle of your private session, practicing with your knives on the targets placed on the trees around you. You watched as he walked along the trail, behind the rest of the group that Stan led. You continued to stare, taking in the new guy - Mitch Rapp. His fists were clenched, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up to his elbows, and you couldn’t help but admire the defined veins on his forearms. He kept his head down, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was hiding from the rest of the group he followed after.

His head snapped up, almost as if you’d called after him, his eyes finding yours, watching you intensely as you stood there, in your running shorts and sports bra. Your weapons were out of sight, so his mind went running with what the hell you were doing out here. In a last minute decision, you tentatively waved at him, making sure that no one else he was with saw the action. Mitch stopped in his tracks, not even looking towards the others, his gaze firmly set on you.

Who the hell is this girl? He thought to himself. Watching as you leaned up against a tree, still smiling slightly as your hand wrapped over your opposite arm. He recognized it as a nervous action immediately. You were twenty feet away, too far for him to speak to you without getting called out, but even if he’d wanted to he was already too late.

“Rapp! Hurry it up!” Stan called, and as soon as he looked towards the man then back towards you, you were gone. “What’s got your head in the clouds boy!? Get the fuck over here!” Mitch hesitated for only a second, checking one last time to see you had completely vanished, then running off to catch up with the group.

You let out a breath, slumping against the tree trunk you’d slipped behind to hide yourself. The air you let out was visible in front of you, and you still saw it as you breathed heavily from the fear of being caught outside by your father. You peeked your head around the side, seeing Mitch jogging off after the group that was now too far into the woods for you to see. When he was no longer in your sight as well, you went back to the row of knives that lay on a towel, and began to practice again.

Your father, bless his Navy protective soul, had every bone in his body against you practicing his work. When you were younger, sixteen maybe, he’d given you basic MMA training. In case there were ever an incident where you’d need to fight off somebody. But your interest only grew, and soon enough you were running through his practice courses after he went to bed, memorizing and killing holographic targets. And truth be told, you were very good.

And that’s what worried Stan.

You were good, great, maybe even perfect. But he didn’t want you going around thinking that you could start tagging along on missions, or worse, sneaking around on them, Because you could get yourself hurt, and he couldn’t have that. You were all he had left, and you were the only reason he continued to fight and train new recruits every day. You getting hurt, or worse, would be the end of his cause.

You’d heard the lecture countless times, and it’s what led you to train and practice when he was pre-occupied, as not to upset him further. It’s not like it was a secret to him, but he prefered to know you were training alone, and not getting mixed up with his men. That way you couldn’t get an earful of upcoming missions.

You angrily twirled the ring of the dagger between your fingers, before whipping your arm forwards and landing the knife right in the red center of the wooden target.

Bullseye.

“Everytime” You said to yourself with a smirk, then yanked the blade out of the cut up wood. You made a mental note to make new targets soon.

Dusk came fast, and you had to rush into the house before your father and his recruits finished their training, as not to get caught. You made it in just in time, stashing your targets and weapons in the middle dresser drawer.

You’d rearrange your room long, keeping your dresser hidden in your closet, out of sight if someone were to burst into your room and find you hiding your weapons. Growing up the daughter of an assassin, you were very precautious.

After making sure everything was organized, you double checked the lock on your door, and gathered sleepwear before heading into the bathroom. You were grateful to as least have a bathroom attached to your room, that you didn’t have to share with any of the men who stayed here. You turned the shower to scalding, as you stripped out of your sticky clothes.

Mitch was standing at the window, the moon and stars the only source of light spilling into the room, him being the only life inside of it. He was having one of his much needed moments to himself, away from anyone else, just him and his thoughts. And the dark trees just outside the window.

“Some run away, you know” A familiar voice drew him from his deep, and rather dark, thoughts. He turned to see you, clad in sweatpants too long for you and a tee shirt with a team name on it that he’d never heard of before. “You could run away” You said, your voice softer than he’d heard it when he was standing here before.

“Why should I run away?” He asked, and you shrugged, your blank expression unwavering.

“I dunno” You said quietly, looking down at the material pooled at your feet, and blue painted toes the only part visible. Your hands wound together behind your back, unsure of what to say next.

“Should I?” He questioned again, but you didn’t look back up.

“Why do I care, I don’t know you” You spoke, a little louder, but not by much. You had to be quiet anyways, the rest of the house was asleep and you didn’t want to wake anyone and bring attention to the fact that you were disobeying one of your father’s rules. Talking to his recruits. There were only a select few that you were allowed to speak with, but they were only guards.

“I meant is there a reason I should be packing up right now and getting the hell out of here?” He asked, turning away from the window now and looking at you directly.

“That’s up to you” You said, finally bringing your eyes back to his. The truth of this came over him like a strange realization, and he bit back the urge to say I guess you’re right.

“Are you a recruit? Why were you training by yourself?” He asked, steering his attention away from the fact that you were still a stranger to him. Though you’d read his file, so you knew more about him than he knew about you.

“No, I’m not one of you CIA killers” You said with a slight laugh as you padded into the kitchen, looking for something to do to get out of this awkwardness. “Most people deny the fact that they’re a murderer”

“I wouldn’t say murderer” Mitch said. “Killer and murderer are two different things”

“Have you killed people or not?” You asked with an arched brow as you opened up the fridge.

“Yes, but it’s not like they didn’t des-”

“If they’re dead, they’re dead. They aren’t coming back, you murdered them” You said matter of factly, but your voice had a cold edge to it. Mitch’s jaw set in place as he mulled over what to say to that.

“You’re not wrong” He said after a while, and you shrugged a shoulder as you settled on grabbing a beer.

“I know. Care to have a drink with me Mitch Rapp?”

“I don’t know you” He quoted you from earlier. You just rolled your eyes, and grabbed another bottle, extending it out towards him.

“If I tell you I’m not a terrorist, will you accept?” You asked. He gave you a slightly suspicious look before taking it from you. You smiled slightly, closing the fridge and walking back towards the sliding door. Stepping out, you looked back to see he was still standing there. “What? Afraid of the dark?” You taunted slightly, and he followed you out, closing the door behind him as you sat on a patio chair that you could lay back slightly on. He took the one next to you, but sat on it sideways. You watched as he took a swig from his bottle. You copied the action.

“I’m not with the CIA” He said, catching you off guard.

“What?”

“You called me a CIA killer, I’m not with them” He said, and you tried not to laugh.

“Seriously? You’re on the base, you’re with the recruits. You’re an agent, Rapp”

“You’re one to talk you’re here too”

“That doesn’t make me an agent”

“Well from what you just said to me you are” He said almost sassily

“Nope” You popped your lips on the word, taking a long drink of your beer.

“Then what does that make you?”

“Makes me Stan’s daughter” You said, raising your eyebrows at him. Knowing you’d won. Mitch looked taken aback, his hand coming up to rub along his jaw, scratching at the scruff there. “Surprised?” You asked, eyes trained on the small opening of the glass in your hands.

“More like confused” He said. You looked at him, eyes full of wonder as you could practically see the gears in his mind turn.

“Well? You don’t know me remember? Ask away” You said, in a kind tone he hadn’t heard before. He stared at you for a moment, glancing you over like he was reading you, or your body language. It was almost like you had multiple personalities, he couldn’t pick anything up from you. And that was a skill he’d prided himself in. “What?” The word came out in a whisper. “What’s with the interrogating look?”

“What is this? What’s your play?” He asked almost calmly. Your brows rose with amusement.

“My play?” You repeated, a smirk on your lips. He nodded, and you took a drink before sitting up in the seat the way he was, facing him completely now. “Well Rapp, since you speak like I’m an enemy, I’ll tell you exactly”

“Good, make it easy” Your expression grew blank, so he couldn’t get a read on you as you spoke.

“My play is that I’m making nice, I’m not even aloud to be speaking with any of you recruits, but there’s something so exhilarating about sneaking out here with you Mitch” You said, your eyes rolling up with delight as you told him your slight scandal. “And while I know nothing of you but your background, which truly is not the whole story, a person’s past makes who they are, but you have… quite an interesting one that I’d personally love to hear all about”

“Is that right?” He asked, his tone holding no emotion to it.

“Mhm. Besides, I also need you” Mitch’s brows furrowed together as you smiled, your lips tugging up into quite a beautiful little smile actually.

“You need me?” You hummed again. “What possibly for? I don’t… hell I don’t even know your name yet”

“Oh well my apologies, I’m y/n” You stuck your hand out, and he shook it slowly, not breaking eye contact with you. “And I need a sparring partner”

“You want to fight me?” Mitch chuckled with delight. “Oh, darling I’d snap you in half like a twig” You released his hand, the pet name shocking you momentarily.

“Oh? Is that so?” You asked, and he nodded, his smug smile still there. “Wonderful, I’d love a challenge”

“I’m not even allowed to fight your father’s men, what makes you think I can his daughter?” He asked, and you stood up, putting your hands on your hips. He followed, towering over you.

“That’s half the fun, Rapp” You smirked as you spoke quietly, seeing he was just inches away from you.

“You’re going to get yourself killed” He said, and you shrugged a shoulder.

“How would you know? You just learned my name, you don’t know anything about me”

“Please, I’m not fighting a girl that I have to look down to to speak-” Mitch was cut off as your leg kicked his out from under him and before he could react your hand his arms pinned tightly on the ground above his head, straddling over his torso. Your lips pulled up in an excited smile. “Tomorrow work for you?” He asked, and you nodded eagerly, hopping off of him and bouncing slightly.

“Thank you, God, you just saved me from chopping up and painting new targets” You said, throwing your arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his cheek before thinking. But you didn’t care, just grabbed your beer and tiptoed back inside. Mitch spun to watch your retreating figure as you drank down the last of your liquor and put the bottle on the counter. It’d been a long time since he’d had physical contact like that, and it threw him off guard. “Hey” You called out in a whisper. “Either come in or close the door, you’re letting cold air in” You said.

“Sorry” He mumbled, stepping in and closing the door shut behind him, locking it on instinct. He turned back to you to see you had your bare arms wrapped around yourself now.

“You don’t have to lock it, nobody else lives out here but us” You told him as he set his empty beer next to yours.

“Still” Was all he said, and you didn’t argue it. Just looked at the time on the microwave.

“It’s two in the morning, and my dad’s gonna come wake you all up at six so you better go back to your bunk” You said, your fingers fiddling with the drawstring on your sweatpants.

“Alright” He sighed out the word, running a hand through his dark curls, turning to head out of the house. You followed slightly, having to head the same way to go to your room, but you trailed him all the way to the front door, opening it and leaning against it to support your tired body.

“Have a good night, Mitch Rapp” You told him quietly as he stepped outside.

“You too miss Hurley” He responded with a nod, and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“y/l/n” You corrected, and he gave you a curious look. “My last name’s y/l/n” He nodded, not questioning it as he smiled just barely, backing up a little.

“Well then goodnight, miss y/l/n” He said, then turned and jogged towards his bunk. You allowed your smile to appear as he ran off, closing the door and leaning your back against it for a while.

This, would be the beginning of yours and Mitch’s story.

4 months later

“Mitch god take a fucking shower” You begged, holding your hand over your nose as he entered the hotel room

“y/n god get a life” He taunted back, yanking your blanket off of you as he passed you on the bed.

“Hey” You whined, grasping the cover and pulling it back over you while he went to the dresser.

You were currently on his mission with him, and your father but he had a separate room. So did you, you just prefered to stay in this one. Without your father’s awareness of course. You weren’t technically on the mission with them, you were just there so Stan could keep an eye on you while him and Mitch did all the real work.

Victor had been there to help to but… recent events led to him no longer being a part of the unit.

“Did you do the ass kickings today?” You asked him while he was still rummaging in the dresser drawers. He laughed slightly at your wording, and shrugged his shoulders.

“Just found out more of your dad’s secrets, nothing went down today or anything” You nodded, and he turned to face you, sweatpants and his black long sleeved shirt in his hand. “I’m gonna take that shower now, you want to order room service?” You nodded, sitting up in bed to reach for the phone. “Need anything before I go?”

“Mitch your twenty feet away, I’ll be fine” You chuckled as he rolled his eyes and headed into the bathroom.

“Try not to think too hard about me!” He called playfully before closing the door, and you almost laughed, but didn’t

It felt like you’d been friends with Mitch Rapp for a long time, but in reality you’d only known each other for a few months. But he was the only person you pretty much ever interacted with, and you him, so it was easy to get close. After so many sparring sessions, sneaking out to go on walks and staying up late to see each other, you just grew to be friends. And it was easy. He opened up more to you, and you mostly to him. But with closeness, came feelings. And the kind that you’d never felt before you met Mitch, which both frightened and excited you.

You fell back onto the bed as you rang for room service, ordering a large pizza and two bottles of their strongest wine. You thanked the man and hung up the phone, then quickly changed into cotton sleeping shorts and a long sleeved sweatshirt that almost covered the hems of the shorts, but it was comfortable so you didn’t care.

The running water of the shower stopped shortly after, and you were flicking through tv channels on the couch when Mitch came out, falling onto the cushion next to you as you searched for something.

“I never watch tv, I wouldn’t even know what’s good” You said, handing him the remote and propping your elbow on the armrest to keep your head up.

“I don’t much either” He said, but settled on a show that seemed dramatic enough to keep watching. Again, you zoned out, even as the scene intensified. Your mind buzzing with all these thoughts and questions. After a few minutes you glanced over at Mitch, studying his face as he seemed to enjoy what was playing. You smiled slightly, glad to see he felt relaxed enough to wind down. It wasn’t much that Mitch would relax. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked in a gentle voice, and you realized he’d caught you staring.

“Oh, sorry” You mumbled, looking quickly back to the television and trying to figure out what was happening in the scene.

“No really” Mitch spoke again, his hand laying on your shoulder. “y/n”

“I just wish I could go with you guys” You said lamely. But it wasn’t a lie. “I can help, I know what I’m doing, I train all the time” Mitch’s face fell, his hand rubbing into your shoulder now.

“I know” He said quietly. “I know you can, but it’s not my rule” Your lips pulled to the side with disappointment. “He’s just trying to keep you safe, you’re safer here, away from harm” He added, and you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about safety” You grumbled.

“Well I do” He said, and you gave him a bored look.

“Seriously? You” You stated in monotone and he nodded.

“When it comes to the only person worth my time, fuck yeah” He said with a big stupid smile that was meant to make you laugh, but you just stared down at your lap to hide your blushing cheeks. “But hey, I know that it’s something that means a lot to you, and I’m sorry”

“It’s okay” You whispered. “It’s not your fault” His hand released your shoulder to cup around your cheek, thumb stroking over the soft skin.

“I’m still sorry” He said, and you gave him half a smile. You would’ve liked to sit here like this, staring into his whiskey colored eyes forever, but there were quick knocks on the door.

“Room Service!” A voice called, and Mitch got up.

“Stay here, I’ll get it” He said, grabbing the gun off the coffee table and tucking it behind him in the waistband of his sweatpants. A safety precaution he’d taken last night as well when you’d shown up at the door. You could hear the exchange of words and soon enough, he was walking in with a box of pizza and two wine bottles.

“So he wasn’t a terrorist?” You asked playfully, to which he ignored as he set the food on the table in front of you, the both of you taking a slice and each popping open the wine.

“Jesus y/n how expensive was this?”

“Who cares it’s on my Dad’s tab” You said with a mouthful of pizza. Mitch just laughed and clinked his bottle against yours.

“Cheers to you and your Dad’s tab” He said before taking a drink.

“You know what’s real nice Mitch? You wanna know somethin’ real real nice?” You asked, crawling over close to him on the sofa. He looked at you with amusement all over his face as your drunken stature wobbled and fell momentarily against his shoulder. “Oops” You grumbled, sitting back up on your hands and knees.

“Do tell me something nice” He said, setting his barely drank from bottle of wine on the table next to your three quarters empty one.

“You have such traceable face… like dot to dot” You told him as your fingers lazily drew patterns all over his face, not even where his freckles were scattered on his jaw. But your fingertips ran all over his nose and forehead and ears and lips. You leaned closer, your eyes narrowing as you focused on the top of his lip, your digit continually tracing over it. “You have a cupid’s bow” You told him, surprise on your features.

“I know” He chuckled as you went back to work drawing invisible pictures on his face.

“I’d like to kiss that cupid’s bow” You told him, and for a moment he wasn’t sure what to say. In fact, even if you weren’t drunk he wouldn’t know what to say.

“Maybe when you aren’t intoxicated” He told you softly, and if you’d remember this moment tomorrow, he’d hold himself to this promise. You grinned and nodded eagerly.

“Okay!” You said loudly, and it made him laugh again. You must’ve decided you were done playing with his freckles because your slumped back against the couch, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched the show again. You began giggling, seemingly uncontrollably, and it made him sigh slightly. Because nothing funny happened in the show. “Mitch? Mitchy you’re not laughing” You said, your finger poking up against his cheek.

“Come here pretty girl” He sighed, wrapping an arm around you and you crawled into his lap. You leaned your sad against his chest, your legs bent at the knees and resting on the back of the couch. “You, just get your little drunk ass to rest alright?”

“Mhm okie dokie” You hummed, hands patting flat on his chest.\ then sliding up to wrap around the base of his neck.

“Are you going to choke me?” He asked, and you just shook your head.

“No…. ‘m holdin’ on to you” You mumbled back in a slur. “I like holdin’ onto you” You added, and he looked down at you with a gentle expression, lips tugging slightly.

“That’s alright” He said, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You hummed, pushing your nose into his chest, inhaling deeply.

“You smell so good” You whispered, arms wrapping completely around his neck now. Mitch laughed as you moved, the tip of your nose pushing against the base of his throat.

“y/n” He said softly, holding you back so you were again leaning on his shoulder. “Go to sleep okay?”

“Okay” You murmured, eyes slipping shut as your body relaxed into his. “You’ll stay here?” You whispered.

“Yeah… yeah I’ll stay here” He assured, and you smacked your lips quietly a few times before allowing yourself to slip into a slumber.

Mitch watched you, carefully, not wanting to wake you up. His hand moved gently to tuck your hair back behind your ear. He let out a short breath, watching you peacefully rest there in his arms.

He couldn’t deny that since you and him had become such close friends, there was something else there. And he was reminded of it every second of his day. When he was leaving on a mission, when he was out there, and especially as soon as he got back, finding you curled up in bed, half asleep but he knew you were only still up because you were waiting for him. He always knew you waited for him to return home, safe. He also knew you’d never admit it.

But there were countless other things he’d never admit to you either.

The next morning you woke up in a bed, your head hurting and your eyes blinking a few times to adjust to the dim lights in the room.

“I tried to keep them as low as possible, sorry if they woke you” A gentle voice spoke, and you looked over to see Mitch, loading his shotgun. You were quiet for a few minutes as you pieced together the few memories you had of last night.

It was like a messy montage of touching Mitch’s face and laughing, you weren’t sure what all had happened.

“Are you leaving?” You asked tiredly, forcing yourself to sit up as you watching him tuck a knife into either of his pockets.

“Yeah, Stan’s got a good lead on where Ghost is” He said, and you frowned instantly at him sitting straighter and ignoring the way your eyes hurt, as if you’d been staring at a screen for hours straight. “It’ll be fine-”

“Don’t fucking say that, it’s a nuclear bomb” You said, voice laced with anger.

“y/n” Mitch stood in front of you as you sat on the edge of the mattress, staring up at him. “Trust me” He said gently. “Can you do that?” You sighed, closing your eyes and nodding. Knowing deep down, you trusted this man with your life. “I’m coming back” He assured, and you refrained from rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, in pieces” You grumbled, and he laughed, kneeling down in front of you. Your eyes never left his as his hands cupped around your face for a moment.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about” He said, dropping his hands to rest overtop of yours.

“I have everything to worry about, the only two people in my life are going out to take down some psychopath terrorist with a nucl-”

“I’m coming back” He whispered again, his hands squeezing yours. “I’m coming back” You blinked, then leaned forward and tucked your head against his shoulder, arms shaking as they wrapped around his neck. Mitch held you back, taking in a deep breath as you sunk off the bed and onto the floor in front of him. Neither of you said anything as his hand cradled the back of your head, and neither of you wanted to let go but you knew you had to.

“You better get going before my Dad bursts in here looking for you” You sniffed quietly, hoping he wouldn’t hear. He did of course, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Yeah he wouldn’t be too fond of finding you in here” He said quietly, eyes flickering for the briefest of moments down towards your lips. You laughed one small bitter laugh as he stood up, holding his hands out and helping you to your feet as well. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” You nodded as his palm brushed over your cheek once more, before he turned to head out of the room.

It took everything you had in you not to call out to him as he left.

“You’re gonna have to get your head out of your ass if you want to get out of here” Stan grunted, his arm struggling as it was caught in a metal contraption. Mitch snarled slightly but didn’t say anything, just fiddled more with the plastic that had been bound his wrists tightly behind him. He was this close to breaking free from the zip tie, when Ghost came back into the dirty room.

That was the best way to describe it, dirty. It looked exactly like the kind of place a murder happens, or drugs are exchanged. Cement walls and floors, a plastic medical curtain separating the physicists lab from where Mitch and Stan were chained up.

While Stan had gotten the crap tortured out of him, already missing two of his fingernails, a nasty gash on his arm, and undergone electrocution, Mitch just sat on the floor, tied up, and not once had a fist landed on his jaw, or some medical instrument ripped out his tongue. He remained unscathed.

“Now, is there a team outside or not?” He asked darkly, holding a metal bar in his hand.

“Way to be the cliche of all kidnappers ever” Mitch grunted. Ghost turned to him, a glare on his face that didn’t unsettle Mitch whatsoever.

“I’d be careful, boy” He growled. “Just because I haven’t beat the shit out of you, doesn’t mean I don’t have a way of making you talk”

“I doubt that” Mitch tested, his eyes narrowing at the ex Navy Seal.

“Ronnie don’t be a dumbass” Stan said, earning a blow to the side of the head with the bar. The chained man spit blood onto the ground, a tooth wiggling loose in his mouth.

“Don’t. Call. Me. That!” He yelled angrily.

“Then don’t be so fucking stupid! You think I’m gonna give this reclusive boy for fucks sake any information? Please” He scoffed, and Ghost smirked slightly.

“Well why don’t we put that to the test, huh?” He said, raising a daring brow between the two men. Mitch gave Stan a look, thinking he was about to be tortured next, and he wondered what his punishment was. A beating? That blow torch? His own nails pried off one by one? “You gents stay here, while I go bring in a new… toy” He grinned to himself before leaving the room.

“He’s a fucking maniac” Mitch said, getting back to work on releasing himself from his zip tie.

“Yeah, and I thought you were crazy” Stan replied. “No matter what, you don’t give away an ounce of information” He warned.

“Please” Mitch scoffed. “He’s got nothing on me, nothing could get me to-” Mitch stopped when Ghost came back in, dragging a body with him.

Your body.

A rag tied around your head between your mouth, your wrists behind your back in the same zip tie that Mitch was in. Legs battered and bruised so much that Mitch figured you couldn’t hold yourself up to run away even if you tried.

“What’s that Rapp?” Ghost said, a menacing smile twisted on his lips. “Nothing can get you to speak?” Stan gave Mitch an even darker look than Ghost’s, but he didn’t dare ask what his daughter had to do with Mitch’s weakness. “Because… funny story actually… your stupid little camera through the air conditioning unit? Well, I replaced it with that of my own” He chuckled, and Mitch glared angrily at the man, two words short of ripping off his zip tie and tackling him to the ground.

“She’s got nothing to do with any of this” He growled out. You writhed in pain against the restraints behind you, never having felt so weak and useless in your entire life.

“Actually, pretty little y/n here has everything to do with everything” Ghost said.

“She’s not even an agent” Stan spoke up, trying to seem nonchalant. Gost just chuckled.

“No, but she’s your daughter, isn’t she?” He spoke, and Stan visibly paled. Mitch rushed forward awkwardly on his knees, as though begging for him not to lay a finger on you.

“She knows nothing, don’t hurt her” He rushed quickly, but as soon as he was two feet away from you, Ghost pulled out a knife. A simple blade, pressed against your throat as his hand roughly grabbed a fistful of your hair. You whimpered against the rag in your mouth. Your captor cut away the gag, and you gasped for air.

“M-Mitch don’t say a th-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Ghost’s hand in your hair tightened and you cried out, your words halting. “Well? If no one starts talking she’s about to get a knife in her gorgeous clavicle” He said, pressing the tip of the dagger against the base of your throat. “The Hurley specialty, right?” He smirked, and Mitch sat frozen in front of them, torn on what to do. If he spoke, he’d be committing treason, and the CIA would throw him into one of their lifetime imprisonment cells. If he kept quiet, the only person he had left would be killed.

“Don’t say anything” You pleaded, tears mixing with blood on your cheeks. Mitch deflated as he stared at you, his eyes locking on yours.

“You’ve got a real tough girl here Rapp” Ghost said, trailing the knife dangerously down your cheekbone, a thin line of blood left in it’s wake.

“Stop it!” Mitch yelled angrily, and next thing he knew, the knife was no longer against you.

It was thrown into his abdomen.

“Mitch!” You scream was all he could hear, echoing across the walls in the room. He looked down at the weapon lodged into him, blood pooling and seeping through his shirt. Ghost threw you to the ground, but you scampered up, ignoring the pain in your arms as you forced yourself up to see what was happening.

Mitch mumbled something as Ghost grew nearer to him.

“What’s that?” He asked. “Opening up now are we?” He smirked, and Mitch glared up at him.

“Rule number three” He uttered, and in a flash, he’d broken out of the zip tie, and yanked the dagger straight out of him, piercing into the side of Ghost’s neck. “Don’t get too close” He finished, watching the life drain right out of the terrorist’s face, as he toppled to the ground. A few staggered breaths came from the assassin, something that looked like relief flooding over his expression, and you felt it too.

Right up until he fell back onto the ground.

“Mitch!” You cried, scurrying over to him awkwardly and painfully, but pushing it away as you leaned over him, ripped your wrists straight out of the restraint, a sudden rush of energy coming over your to do so, and you ignored the burning feeling it left behind. “Mitch? Mitch open your eyes” You were crying, one of your hands pressing against his wound, hoping to stop the bleeding, the other reaching up to lay on his cheek. “Wake up, Mitch wake up” You pleaded over and over in whimpers, your ear pressing against his chest, hearing the faintest of heartbeats.

“y/n” Your father spoke your name, softly and sadly, but you ignored him.

“Come on Mitch, come on wake up” You shook his head slightly with your hand, fingers threading through the dark curls you loved so much.

“y/n he’s-”

Stan was cut off when Mitch suddenly gasped, eyes flying open and breathing hard, catching the breath he’d momentarily lost. You choked out a sob, a pained smile stretching across your face as both of your bloody hands cupped around his face.

“Goddamnit Rapp” You cursed him, palms still on his cheeks as your head fell to his chest for a moment before looking back up at him, eyes teary and your smile wavering. “You were dead”

“I’m here- I’m alive” He said quietly, and pushed your matted and blood splattered hair behind your ear. “I told you I’d come back” A broken laugh came from your lips at his stupid smile and you fell down against him again.

“Will someone get me out of this and tell me what the fuck is going on?” Stan, of course, ruined the moment. You pushed yourself to stand, helping Mitch sit up before going to your father, and untangling his arm from the chains so he could unwind the metal piece that snared his other arm.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked quietly.

“Fuming” He grunted, rubbing the sore bruise that had grown on his wrist. “But right now, I’m too thankful that you’re still alive” He breathed, and hugged you tightly. You hugged back, feeling just as grateful for his life too.

“I’m sorry” You whispered when you pulled away, and Stan went over to Mitch, holding him up so he could stand. You went to his other side, giving him a soft smile as you wrapped his arm over your shoulders, holding tightly to his hand. All three of you limped out of the building.

“I didn’t even know you two knew each other” Stan grumbled when you got to the parking lot. He started the car as you helped Mitch into the backseat.

“We-”

“He’s my best friend” You spoke, cutting off whatever he was about to say. Your father gave you a look through the rearview mirror, but he didn’t say anything. His silence worried you, your hands twisting in your lap after you shut the door so he could drive. “Dad?”

“I don’t even care right now” He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Quite frankly, I’ve lost two nails a tooth and a hell of a lot of my dignity” Mitch glanced over at you, a nervous and questioning look on his face. You tugged your split bottom lip between your teeth. “We’ll talk another time about this y/n” Stan finally spoke up again. “Right now I need to call Irene and we all need to get cleaned up, we look like shit. Especially you”

“Thanks Dad” You grumbled, but knew he meant it for the best.

“Rapp you have twenty four hours to think of what to say to me that won’t result in me putting a bullet in your head”

“Yes sir” Mitch replied, and you looked over to him again, a faint smile on your lips as you slid your hand into his with ease. It never felt so good to hold onto him.

When you arrived at the hotel, your father went into his own chambers without speaking a word to either of you, so you just trailed after Mitch into his room. You made a beeline for the cabinets, grabbing the first aid kit and ordering him to sit on the mattress. He pulled his shirt up over his head, wincing slightly but trying to show it. You didn’t notice, to focused on trying to not stare at his chest, rather enjoy the dark patch of hair that trailed there.

“Sit still” You said emotionlessly, pulling out a needle.

“What the f-”

“You need stitches” You told him, and he gaped slightly. “You got shot and you’re afraid of a needle?” You said with a slight laugh in your voice.

“It’s different!” He argued back and you shook your head at him.

“Just close your eyes, think about something else” You told him, and he followed the order, his eyes falling shut and you just as quickly began to stitch up the wound. “See? It’s fine, I got it” You said softly as you finished up the stitches, breaking the thread and setting the bloody needle on a tissue to avoid mess. Mitch opened his eyes again, glancing momentarily down to the excellent job you’d done, before watching you put rubbing alcohol on a balled up wad of tissues, patting gently over the area, cleaning away the blood as you applied it.

“How long do I have doc?” He asked, and you sighed.

“Sadly, not long Rapp. There wasn’t much we could do” He faked a frown. “Would you like us to contact your loved ones?” He shook his head, and your brows furrowed with confusion.

“No… no they’re already here” He said, and for a brief second you froze up, but then slapped the back of your hand against his bicep.

“Shut up” You forced a laugh as you pressed a pad of gauze gently against his side, holding it with your fingertips as lightly as you could as not to hurt him as you reached for the tape.

“I can do it” Mitch said, reaching to grab the roll from your hands but you shook your head.

“It’s fine, I got it” You said in an assertive tone, carefully taping it onto him so it was protected. Your eyes lingered there on the white plastic covered fabric patch before flickering up to his, seeing he was already staring at you. Your breath hitched involuntarily.

“Thanks” He breathed out, and you nodded, swallowing thickly as you tried to find words to say, but none would come out. His eyes trailed over the bruises and blood that were covered all over your face. Your gaze never faltered as re reached for the wet rag you’d brought from the bathroom, carefully dotting it from the crown of your head, over your cheeks and slightly purple eye. “Jesus” He whispered as he wiped the smeared blood from your cheeks. “What’d he do to you?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle” You said, smirking slightly while he patted the cool washcloth over your lips. You wondered briefly if your cheeks were as pink as they felt. You blinked, staring at his eyes as they focused on cleaning up your face. They trailed down his lips, admiring their pink and parted form. You traced their shape with your eyes, his tongue peeking out momentarily to swipe over his upper lip. “You have a cupid’s bow” You whispered out. Mitch stilled his actions, looking up at you.

“Yeah” Was all he could even think to say. His mind running with more thoughts than he could process, screaming for him to ask if you remembered last night, hoping he could follow through with his silent promise.

“Mitch” You whispered, grabbing onto the hand that had frozen against your cheek, lowering it and taking the wet and now bloody rag from him. You leaned in ever so slightly, eyes flickering down towards his lips, down further to the dark hair on his chest, lower to the trail that disappeared into his pants. “You owe me a kiss” You murmured, meeting his gaze again. The slightest of smiles tugged on the ends of his lips, before his hand cupped over your cheek, and pulled your mouth against him.

You breathed softly through your nose out of complete content. His lips were warm, and soft. Moving gently in sync with yours. He sighed against you, parting just to tilt your head to the side before kissing you again, just as pasionately and carefully as not to hurt the cut that ran over your bottom lip. Your fingers threaded through his hair, your other hand at the base of his neck as you leaned over the medical supplies you’d laid out on the bed. But the position was too awkward, so he lifted you up and sat you onto his lap. You stared at him for a moment, your butt planted on his thighs and ankles resting on the blankets behind him as he held you firmly but gently.

Everything about him was gentle, and you were loving it.

With a smile, you leaned your head back down to kiss him against, tongue tracing over the lips you’d been making heart eyes at for a few days now, taking your time over his cupid’s bow. He chuckled, the parting of his lips making it easy for you to slip your tongue into his mouth, exploring it leisurely.

Now, you’d never done this before. In fact, this was your first kiss ever. Having a strict father and living in the woods, meant you didn’t really get out much. But if this was what dating was, you loved it.

You loved him.

Mitch’s arms wound around your waist, your hands splayed across his cheeks as you continue your exploration until you could no longer breathe. He pulled away before you, taking the moment to assess your features. A few messy strands of hair having fallen in front of your blushing and bruised face. Your doe eyes staring into his with nothing short of adoration.

“As much as I’d like to continue this, the two of us need sleep, desperately” He said, and you nodded, climbing off of him reluctantly, but his hand just wrapped around your wrist again. “That doesn’t mean we can’t continue a little longer” He added, and you laughed, leaning towards him again, knees falling to the bed to hover over his lap.

“You’re a strange man Mitch Rapp” You told him before connecting your lips in a sweet kiss.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment” He replied with raised brows, and you laughed again, nodding your head as you held his face in your hands. You could never get tired of staring at him.

“You should, I’d say everything I tell you is a compliment” You told him curtly, sitting down in the space between his legs, your own wrapped around your waist as his still hung over the edge of the bed.

“Really? Cause you told me once that I was hairy and that I could house a family of squirrels on my face” He said in monotone.

“That’s just because I wanted you to shave, I like you when you’re scruffy” You said, running the pads of your fingertips over the slight stubble on his jaw. “Not when you have an entire mop around your face. You’ve already got it on your head. You don’t need it to spread” Mitch rolled his eyes, but you pecked his lips a few times as though asking for forgiveness. “But in the end it was a compliment… you’re hotter with this” You said, your hands again rubbing over his jawline. Mitch smirked, finally kissing you back and you hummed in surprise at the sudden action.

“You think I’m hot?” He asked, his smirk back as you gave him a look.

“Mitch Rapp, you are the sexiest man I have ever, and will ever meet” His lips pursed as his brows rose with surprise, liking the confession you’d given him.

“Well that’s a title I hope to keep” He said, and you hit his chest lightly.

“Stop it you’re killing the mood” You whined, and he peppered your cheeks and nose with kisses, making you giggle and scrunch up your nose.

“Good, cause i’m pretty sure I already told you that you need sleep”

“Hey!” You yelled accusingly. “You’re the one who pulled me back” You grumbled and got off of him, heading to your drawer to find cozy pajamas. All you had was sweatpants and sweatshirts, which it was far too hot to wear.

“Yeah, and you didn’t restrain one bit, you’re weak” He chuckled, following your actions and getting his own shorts to sleep in. You peered over into his drawer curiously.

“You gonna wear that tee shirt?” You asked.

“Well if it won’t keep you awake at night I��d prefer to sleep without one” He said, and you shrugged a shoulder, snatching it for yourself.

“Fine by me” You said, peeling your bloodied shirt over your head, and slipping on Mitch’s before taking your bra off from underneath it. Mitch watched you intently as you unbuttoned your shorts and wiggled out of them, packing the dirty clothes from today neatly back into the drawer. You turned to see Mitch shamelessly staring at you. “What?”

“I was going to make a remark about who it was that gave you permission to steal my clothes, but I’m not even going to complain” He said, making you laugh to yourself as you picked up the medical kit and put it all away, hiding it back in it’s own dresser drawer. You rolled your eyes at him as he sat on the bed, patiently waiting for you to join him. You casted a glance over your shoulder then made your way to flick off the light switch. You turned to see he was still sitting upright, and a small, almost nervous sounding giggle.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” You asked him, and he nodded his head.

“What do you think I’m waiting for?” He said as you crawled on, moving up to him and pecking his lips in the dark. “Baby that was my chin”

“Huh… I was wondering why your lips were all prickly” You mumbled tiredly, collapsing onto the space next to him. “Well lay down I wanna hold onto you” You ordered, and Mitch sighed slightly.

“So bossy” He muttered as he laid on his back, you instantly snuggling up against him and nuzzling your face into his chest. Mitch watched you for a moment, his hand stroking over the back of your head as you sighed softly out of content. “I love you anyways” He breathed out, like it annoyed him, but you saw through the sarcasm.

“I love you too” You murmured, lips planting on his chest and fingers playing with the patch of hair down the middle. “Now get some rest, my father’s going to give you hell tomorrow” You hummed, and he merely nodded, his other arm encircling over your waist, riding his shirt up over the hem of your underwear and stroking the soft skin of your lower back.

He’d fall asleep eventually, but right now, he just wanted to enjoy this moment to it’s fullest extent.

Cause the next day Stan would give him a black eye and a few more threatening warnings than the average father.

tWO IMAGINES OF PPL I HAVENT POSTED FOR B4 CUZ I FELT SO BAD SO

here ya goooo

xoxo ~ jordie

#american assassin #amaerican assassin imagine #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp imagine #mitch rapp scenario #mitch rapp fanfiction #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfiction #dylan o'brien x reader

1K notes · View notes

metawitches · 4 years

Text

In Snowpiercer episode 4, Sean’s murder is solved, Josie visits 3rd Class, Andre visits 1st Class and Melanie pulls out her bottle of poisoned sake. Andre and the writers go with the “Lolita made me do it” murder defense to explain why a trained soldier killed several people.

This is a disappointing development for Snowpiercer. No matter what layers and nuances the show might add to the scenario later, a young woman has been publicly blamed for provoking the crimes of her abuser. This is an abuse tactic in and of itself.

Recap

Jinju provides tonight’s opening monologue. As she speaks, she prepares a meal of sushi for herself and Bess, starting with gutting the fish and ending with the two lovers toasting each other over beautifully presented food.

Meanwhile, Erik finishes slaughtering Nikki and lovingly examines his handiwork. Presentation also matters to him. He takes care of his appearance, and Sean’s corpse was certainly presented in a very specific way. Nikki’s is as well.

Poor Nikki Genet. The actress spent all that time in the makeup chair and her character’s life was snuffed out before she could share her secrets. Snowpiercer is a big ole fridge.

The dead, bloody fish are juxtaposed with the dead, bloody woman (after Bess was juxtaposed with the cow in another episode) and then the two women eating the fish. Meat eating is equated with cannibalism and women again. This time violence against animals and violence against women are overtly linked. Hello, Vegetarian Ecofeminism.

Jinju”s voiceover: “Adapt. That’s what humans do, isn’t it? Our great leg up. We roll. We hack. Knuckle down and change. Even Snowpiercer is an adaptation. That was classic Wilford. While the world froze and the other mega-rich tried to hole up in bunkers or upload their consciousness, Mr Wilford dusted off his train set. Snowpiercer is his system. Systems resist change, even without their maker. I’m just a scientist. I’m here to save the world. Not change it. I know our chances at surviving are slim at best. All I can do about that is provide small moments of happiness on Snowpiercer, 1,001 cars long.”

I forgot to mention the knives. So many bloody knives on this train. Jinju’s knives and Erik’s knives and the butcher’s knives. Two of those three are definitely murderers. I think Jinju is indirectly a murderer by creating and cooking the suspension drug and the kronole. I suspect that one of the ways she’s found to spread a little happiness is by making and selling kronole.

We return from the opening credits to nighttime in Melanie’s cabin, where she’s working at her desk. Ben knocks and enters. He tells her she’s working too hard and he needs her to take better care of herself. The train depends on her too much for her to overwork herself into illness. Melanie appreciates his concern. He also wants her to ask for help more often.

He means he wants her to learn to delegate more responsibilities, but she asks him to peel her tangerine instead. Control freaks never change. As they share the orange, he asks if she’s found a workaround for the lost cow methane. She has. She’s going to replace it with goat farts (goat methane). They joke that her MIT degree is really paying off. So is her degree from Yale Engineering School.

Later we’ll discover they’re wasting human methane down on 3rd Class.

Melanie has a map of the world on her wall and has written notes on her wall, all around the map, but I can’t make them legible. The map is some kind of polar projection perspective, maybe of Russian origin. The opening credits show Snowpiercer’s track following the outline of the continents (screencaps of opening credits in commentary section). This map makes it easier to see how the continents could be connected by tracks at their closest points.

Roche wakes Andre up to deal with Nikki’s murder. Melanie gets the call telling her that Nikki is dead.

Jinju and Bess linger in bed after spending the night together. Jinju wants Bess to walk her to work, but Bess feels weird about it, because there’s a stigma among Thirdies about dating uptrain. Bess thinks that Jinju doesn’t understand, because 2nd Class can swing in either direction, socializing with 1st or 3rd Class, while the other two classes are segregated among their own kind.

Jinju says they need to put aside old differences, like being from Detroit and San Francisco, and new ones, and start over in what’s left of the world. Then she gets the call from Melanie telling her that Nikki is dead. She answers using her official title, Agricultural Officer.

Melanie finds Klimpt sobbing on floor. After a few words of sympathy, she charges him with redeeming himself by discreetly moving Nikki’s body, then helping with the autopsy in order to obtain essential postmortem data.

She says, “Do you understand what I’m asking you? Will you do that for me, Henry?”

That sounds like she’s asking him for more than observations about how Nikki was murdered. She wouldn’t sound so secretive about forensic data for the case. Does this have to do with “the other work” she mentioned to Jinju?

Andre heard their conversation, but doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he asks Melanie why she didn’t make an arrest last night, when he gave her the killer’s description. Melanie says she was waiting until morning.

Bess realizes that the borders between classes have been closed all night, since the fight. Andre says that the killer is from 1st. He must have left the fight early to follow Bess and Nikki back to the Drawers, then gotten stuck downtrain overnight when the borders closed. He wouldn’t have had time to get uptrain. Melanie agrees that he must still be in 3rd.

Erik has been in the 3rd Class dining car for hours. When the restaurant switches to breakfast, he moves on, leaving a couple of 1st Class drink tokens behind.

Grey, Ruth, Roche and Till take over the Night Car to develop their strategy for searching for Erik. Roche is either equal to or in charge of Grey. Right now, he’s giving orders to the jackboot commander. Grey and Ruth try to get Andre sent out of the room when Melanie brings him in, so that he doesn’t pick up more details about the train.

Andre argues that he should be involved since he’s the one who obtained the killer’s description. Grey doesn’t want him going to 1st Class either. Andre and Melanie agree to question 1st Class together once the others are busy with the search for Erik.

Andre: “You have to clear that with Mr Wilford, or is that your call?”

Melanie lets Grey know that she decides whether Andre is allowed in 1st Class, not him, and tells Ruth to wake up everyone from 1st who was at the fight. Ruth doesn’t like the idea of upsetting the Firsties. Andre can’t believe she’s more worried about the comfort of the Firsties than finding the serial killer.

Grey will start at the Tail end of the train and Roche will start at the front of 3rd. They’ll do a thorough search and sweep, meeting in the middle at Ag Sec. The subtrain is still closed to all non essential personnel, but Grey will send an extra unit down anyway.

Roche sends Till and Oz to start the search. She’s shocked that Oz hasn’t been suspended for dealing kronole, but Roche maintains that they need everyone for this operation, so she and Oz will have to work out their differences on their own. (Her real problem might be that he ran from the Tailie rebellion, leaving her to be held hostage.)

Commander Grey, with his baton placed like a firearm to signal that he’s a predator on the hunt.

Note the optical illusions caused by the decorative trim at the top and bottom of the image. Miss Audrey has animal furs nearby. She’s dangerous in her own way.

Miss Audrey, dressed in widow’s weeds, makes her entrance down the grand staircase. She shoots Andre a look and he follows her into a private room to speak alone. But alone is never alone on the train, so this is still a coded conversation.

They speak in a padded room. Y’all know padded rooms are normally reserved for the severely mentally ill, right? Maybe some people need the private room experience more than others. Maybe on a super emergency, wearing a straight jacket so they don’t hurt themselves, type of basis.

Once they get in the room, Daveed Diggs and Lena Hall have so much chemistry together it’s ricocheting off the padded walls. It makes me wonder if the characters knew each other before the train. The way the scene is staged and shot is classic film noir, which generally means things are being hidden from the audience and probably from at least one of the characters, though I tend to think these two are co-conspirators hiding their plot from everyone out in the club.

The two circle and pace around each other as they speak, testing whether they can trust each other and whether one or the other is going to attempt to assert dominance, since this is the first time the two leaders have been alone. They’re on Audrey’s territory, but Andre is a man, physically larger and currently has Melanie’s ear. He could be a spy and he could assert physical or sexual dominance. He does neither and shows Audrey respect instead by showing her he values her opinions.

Remember this moment later for his conversation with LJ. He works to earn Miss Audrey’s trust and respect.

By the end, they’ve found at least a temporary sense of balance and trust, so they stand face to face and speak intimately. She gives him a bit of information about Melanie- that she never visits the private rooms. That means Melanie’s needs for intimacy are being met elsewhere, revealing a potential source of information, blackmail and a hostage if it comes down to it. Audrey also tells him that she’s sure there aren’t any leaks among her people. She agrees that Nikki’s death has the Thirdies riled up, but tells him he still needs to move cautiously toward engaging them in a full on revolution.

When Melanie enters, Audrey snaps at her to distract her from wondering what they were talking about. It’s a gutsy move toward the boss who allocates supplies and assigns people to jobs. Maybe Audrey has more on Melanie than she admitted to Andre. Or maybe the Night Car and Audrey are just that essential to the continued functioning of the train.

Andre: “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Miss Audrey: “If the killer’s from First, they’ll only let you get so far, and there won’t be any justice for Nikki.”

Andre: “How’s Third gonna take that? Both victims are theirs.”

Miss Audrey: “That remains to be seen, Detective.”

Andre: “Now that I’ve got a sense of what you do here, I thought you might have a take on it. You know people, high and low. You know their secrets.”

Miss Audrey: “Strict confidentiality. It’s assured in the Night Car.”

Andre: “I appreciate that. Melanie Cavill ever have a session?”

Miss Audrey: “That would be confidential- if the answer wasn’t no- she’s never shown herself like that.”

Andre: “Maybe now she’ll have to. Think Nikki’s death could be a catalyst?”

Miss Audrey: “Catalyst for what?”

Andre: “From what I hear, a lot of workers are pretty fed up.”

Miss Audrey: “You need to step carefully Detective, but, many of us do want change.”

Melanie knocks on the door and enters: “We’re waking First. Audrey, I promise I’ll do everything I can…”

Miss Audrey interrupts her: “Cut the BS, Melanie. You have my support, Detective.”

Miss Audrey leaves the room.

Melanie: “I’m holding the subtrain.”

Andre: “Not a lot of downtrain faith that the powers that be actually want to solve this thing, now that the suspect’s from first.”

Melanie- “I want it solved. And it doesn’t matter which class the suspect is from. Let’s go.”

He tipped Melanie off that he knows she’s Wilford, so she isn’t even bothering to hide that she’s in charge anymore. It must be a scary relief to be honest for once. She says she’ll make sure the murder is solved, but that doesn’t mean she’ll make sure anyone other than Erik, who’s not really a Firstie, is taken down. Or that she’ll delve into the reason why Sean was killed, if she can simply say that Erik was a serial killer who chose random victims.

The Tailies examine the blue chip and discuss what to do with it first and how far forward it will get them. They decide to have one of the sanitation crew use it to leave their breakroom during lunch. One of the Tailies who made the apprenticeship program early on, Astrid, now works making their nutritional bars. If they can make contact with her, they can set up a communication system and contact Andre.

Since Big John is becoming too sick to work, it’s decided that Josie will take his place and use the chip. She’ll blend in more easily than one of the more familiar guys on the crew. Lights wraps Josie’s arm with a cloth bandage, hiding the chip inside.

When the jackboots call for the sanitation crew, Josie joins them. They give her the eye, probably looking forward to the show when they make the crew strip naked and hose them down with cold water. They do this before the sanitation work, possibly trying to stop the Tailies from bringing parasites forward into 3rd, but maybe just as a humiliation tactic.

Melanie walks Andre through a corridor lined with some of the most valuable paintings in the world. Andre is openly disgusted by the greed and hoarding this corridor shows. It’s clear that the lower classes aren’t visiting the museum.

Melanie: “Layton, I was born on a dirt farm in Eastern Pennsylvania. I came from nothing. I know a thing or two about class. That anger that you feel, when you look at all of this? It’s justified. Let’s use it. Whoever the killer is, First is going to protect their own, so you be their worst nightmare from the Tail. I’ll do the rest.”

He takes one more look around, then follows her into the First Class dining car.

At first I thought Melanie might have made up her rags to riches story, but watching how fiercely she says the lines, I think she was serious. She hates the Firsties as much as most of the rest of the train does, but they are part of the order of the train and thus a necessary evil. It would be too disruptive to force them to change, so she tries to keep them under control. I don’t think she was as upset by the loss of the cows as Jinju, since she replaced their functions quickly and the train can be repaired.

But that story was unprecedented honesty about herself from Melanie. It feels like a spider weaving a web to trap an unsuspecting fly. Miss Audrey was right about being cautious. There is an unprecedented level of theatre going on for the rest of the episode, amongst Melanie, Andre, LJ, her parents and the side players. Each has their secrets and goals and is steering the conversation accordingly.

There aren’t many people in the dining car, but a breakfast buffet has been laid out. Andre stalks in, announcing that he doesn’t care who any of them are, but he knows one of them has a thing for chopping off 1st Class male appendages. LJ springs to attention the moment he enters. Now she laughs out loud. She’s been waiting for someone to become her parents’ worst nightmare for the last 7 years.

Andre eats from a serving utensil and speaks with his mouth full. He complains to Ruth that some of the fight spectators are missing. York complains that getting them out of bed for this is uncalled for. “No one from 1st Class has ever been charged with a crime.”

York doesn’t see the irony in his statement.

Andre tells York that he should thank Melanie for his luck so far, but Mr Wilford is taking a different approach this time. Melanie confirms it when Andre points to her.

He asks where the bodyguards are. No one answers.

He asks Ruth how many arms she’s taken in the Tail. When she doesn’t answer, he tells her- 14. That would 13 in the Year 3 Rebellion and Suzanne’s in episode 2. He asks her again, this time in a more serious tone of voice, “Where are the bodyguards?”

Hospitality Deputy Ruth, while wearing her uniform, says in all seriousness, “I didn’t invite the help.”

LJ: “Erik didn’t come home last night.”

Melanie: “He didn’t?”

Robert (Lilah may be the Queen of 1st Class, but Robert is still the King, where the buck stops and the hammer falls.): “No. He asked to leave the fight early and when we came back, he wasn’t here.”

Sharma: “You knew he was missing and didn’t tell us?”

Melanie: “Tell Roche Erik’s a suspect.”

LJ: “He has his gun, too.”

Robert and Lilah: “LJ!”

LJ: “What? I saw he had it with him last night.”

Andre: “He has his gun? There are no guns allowed on the Snowpiercer.”

Sharma: “Our security was allowed to keep their sidearm.”

Andre: “The rest of us were disarmed to keep you safe. I’m going to need to see Erik’s quarters.”

I’m not clear how much of what Andre, LJ and Erik do for the rest of the episode is preplanned and I don’t know if Andre really didn’t know about the guns or not, but he uses this as a turning point. Erik’s been wearing his gun in a thigh holster and visiting 3rd Class all season, so bodyguards with guns should be common knowledge on the train, all the way back to the Tail.

This is my interpretation of what we’re shown.

Lilah refuses to allow Andre into their car. He certainly won’t be searching through their things. She demands to speak to Mr Wilford, on behalf of everyone in First Class. LJ is extremely amused by her parents discomfort.

Melanie looks uncomfortable, but she goes to the phone and pretends to call Mr Wilford. Ben answers and realizes that they’re pretending he’s Mr Wilford again, so he plays along. Melanie explains the situation to Ben/Wilford. Lilah stands her ground until Melanie holds out the phone to her, then she backs down and agrees to let Andre into the Folgers’ car, as long as Melanie is present.

Melanie tells Ben that his services aren’t needed after all. He says, “I miss you, Mel.” She says, “Thank you for that.”

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Erik walks through the Chains, throwing off observers, until he finds the storage space he uses as his hiding place when he needs a break from the Folgers. He goes inside and puts his gun on a crate that also has candles on it.

The sanitation crew, which today includes Josie, Santiago and Last Australian, is brought into their horrifically toxic break room for lunch. It’s so filled with methane from the human waste they work with that the jackboot who escorts them wears a gas mask. It’s awful for them, too, but they’ve grown grown used to living in unlivable conditions, so they push through it. The crew has hidden anything they could scrunge in the cracks and crevices of the room. They pull out pajamas for Josie to change into from her sanitation uniform. It’s the middle of the night, so they figure the pajamas won’t be so noticable. The chip works, so she’s off to find the 3rd Class dining car and Astrid.

In the Folgers’ car, Andre tosses Erik’s sleeping area, rifling through the pages of every book and dumping out every container, then dropping them on the floor, like every TV cop ever. Though he’s quiet and polite as he works, Lilah and Robert are still put out. LJ offers him a beverage. He declines.

Andre notices a framed photo of Erik when he was a Marine. He asks what else they can tell him about their bodyguard. Robert says all they know about him is that they hired him to keep them safe and he did. LJ adds that he saved her life, but Lilah tells her, “It’s not pertinent.”

Wow, he lived with them for 7 years and the adults are going to play it like he was someone they barely knew and had no feelings about. Cold.

Andre finds a flat, squared off tool with a sharp edge. LJ says that it’s a J-hook, used for beekeeping. Erik found it and showed it it to her. She has a defiant look now. Ruth realizes that it’s from Snowpiercer’s old hives. Melanie explains that they used to keep bees until they died from colony collapse 3 years ago. Then the beekeeping supplies were packed up and put into storage. Andre asks them to send Till to find the crate the J-hook came from. While Melanie calls Till, Ruth takes Lilah and Robert into the living room to discuss their strategy for making sure this doesn’t affect the family’s reputation.

Josie sits down with Astrid as she’s eating a bowl of porridge in the dining car. Astrid is thrilled to see her. Astrid is in Food Processing, where she cuts and loads the bars, but she doesn’t have access to ingredients. She tells Josie that Andre is working as a detective, trying to solve a murder.

Josie explains that they want Astrid to make contact with him. She knows that Astrid could get sent back to the Tail for helping them, but they need her. Josie gets distracted by seeing the sun and the mountains outside. Astrid calls her back. They agree that they are OneTail. Astrid gives Josie her bowl of porridge.

Andre finds a stash of Erik’s photos and notices that he doesn’t come from a privileged past. LJ says he had a tough childhood. Andre asks LJ if she thinks Erik is capable of these murders. She replies, “Maybe. He sure wasted those rioters who tried to grab me on the way to Snowpiercer.”

Andre: “Is that when he saved your life?”

LJ: “He joked about being cold-blooded. Born for The Freeze.”

In the other room, Robert and Lilah assure each other that Erik’s actions don’t need to reflect badly on them. And Erik’s actions certainly weren’t their fault. But Lilah is concerned about the resulting track talk.

Robert: “Over the years, we learned that as a private soldier, Erik did things. That’s what he’s for. Not psychotic murder.”

Lilah: “It can’t come off like we have sheltered a monster.”

It seems clear who the monsters are. But we’re just getting started. It’s not enough to dehumanize the man they lived with for 7 years into a killing machine meant for their personal use. They intend to throw their daughter under the bus, too.

Meanwhile, Andre asks LJ if Erik ever got aggressive or weird with her.

He must have had some amazing sensitivity training back at the police station that led to him using that kind of specific language with a young woman whose best friend and bodyguard has turned out to be a serial killer. With Melanie the judgy ice queen sitting next to him.

Where’s the guy who was so effective with the Tailies after their rebellion? He takes the opposite approach with LJ, poking at her wounds so she’ll shut down and reveal as little as possible rather than making her comfortable so she’ll talk.

In addition to the other complexities of this situation, he doesn’t want her to reveal anything to Melanie that would compromise the revolution. I believe Erik was working for all of the sides on the Train: He was Melanie’s spy and hitman, the Folgers’ bodyguard and drug runner and an occasional rebel Tailie agent as well. Since LJ was with him so much, she knows much more than she even realizes she knows. And she clearly knows a lot.

LJ glances over at Melanie, then moves to the other side of the room and asks if they really don’t have windows in the Tail. Two can play the embarrassment game, Detective. She opens a shade, letting the light pour in, watching for his reaction, in the same the way he and Melanie are staring at her, watching for her every reaction. In the same way she’s been stared at as a Firstie every time she’s gone downtrain for the last 7 years.

But maybe it’s also an invitation to let some light in on her family’s life and on the activities of First Class.

Before she opens the shade, Andre tells her that most of the people in the Tail haven’t seen the sun in 7 years and asks how that makes her feel. She says that they didn’t have tickets.

Touché. It’s unfair to put the weight of the political system of the train on a child, especially one he doesn’t know, and that political debate has nothing to do with what’s happening to her family right now. It’s his issue, which he’s forcing into this moment because he’s not really investigating a murder. He’s prosecuting a war.

And Melanie is standing right there.

Andre has no idea who LJ is inside and he’s not giving her any reason to show him. If anything, he’s encouraging her to hide behind the walls Erik built around her. Andre doesn’t care about LJ at all, and she can see that. He only cares about what she can do for him. He’s another man who’s interested in using the Firstie princess, like everyone else on the train.

LJ didn’t choose to get on the train or to be a 1st Class passenger. She was forced into her situation and is now trying to cope with her own lack of power or options for the future. She’s just lost the only friend she had who’s showed her loyalty and who wasn’t ancient by her standards or separated from her by class. Everyone else is much older or younger or in the lower classes, and they won’t accept her, as Bess told us earlier.

Where does that leave LJ? Erik was her abuser, but he was all LJ had, in many ways. Her parents are terrible and she probably hates them. Her life is a dead end. Like everyone on Snowpiercer, she has very good reasons to be depressed and even suicidal.

Melanie reminds LJ that Andre asked about her relationship with Erik.

Andre: “Did he tell you things or ask you to keep secrets?”

Andre is asking LJ this to determine whether she knows details about the murders, but these are also standard behaviors for abusers, especially pedophiles. A yes answer would almost certainly mean that Erik was having an inappropriate relationship with LJ, and that he pushed her to keep it to herself.

Andre is toying with LJ’s emotions, trying to box her into a particular corner.

LJ goes wide-eyed, then shifty-eyed, then glances at Melanie and moves to sit down. She doesn’t look straight at either of them the whole time. Finally, she refuses to talk about it. It’s clear the answer is yes, he asked her to keep secrets.

Andre uses a nod of his head to ask Melanie to leave the room. She joins Ruth and the Folgers, asking about LJ’s relationship with Erik. She picked up on their abusive sexual relationship.

But she left LJ alone in the room to be questioned by a strange man anyway. This is a terrible scenario for getting the information they want from LJ. Now she’ll be triggered rather than feeling more comfortable speaking about her abusive, traumatic memories. Normally, you’d want to bring in a young, warm female officer like Till, who LJ could relate to more easily, to do the questioning, not a large man who’s purposely been using threatening techniques.

I believe Andre wanted LJ to be triggered, so that she’d be disoriented enough to go along with his plans for her without thinking them through.

Astrid leaves Josie in a corridor near the breakroom. After they hug goodbye, Josie turns around and sees Miles, now renamed Christopher, walking past another mysterious server farm with a strange woman. He’s telling the woman that his mother would understand. They disappear into a room and don’t notice Josie.

Santiago is panicking in the breakroom, since Josie’s time is almost up. She slips back in with seconds to spare. Her friends help her with a quick clothing change. When the jackboots return to send them back to work, they don’t notice anything amiss.

Bess and Oz are sent to the Chains to search for Erik in the beehive storage closet. He’s still there when they find the closet, but he escapes through the ceiling and leads them on a chase throughout the car.

LJ tells Andre that Erik, who is mixed race, hated his white dad, but he brought some of his father’s old records on the train. While she’s putting one on the player, a cat jumps on the couch and startles Andre. He hasn’t seen one in 7 years. LJ explains that Erik saved Snowpeter’s life, too.

Smuggling the cat on board shows that Erik doesn’t torture animals, one sign of someone who is a psychotic, unfeeling killer. It also shows that he cares about more than the upper classes, unlike most of the Firsties. Since the cat was smuggled on by one of the lower classes to save his life, rather than brought on as a Firstie’s pampered pet, he’s symbolic of the ticketless passengers and shows LJ’s true feelings about them as well.

Andre might still take Snowpeter’s presence as a symbol of 1st Class excess, if he’s never had a mouse problem. We know there are rats on the train and if anything survives the Freeze, it’ll be the mice, rats and cockroaches. Cats are essential.

She plays Bobby Vinton’s Sealed with a Kiss and slow dances as she sings along: “Though we’ve gotta say goodbye for the summer, baby, I’ll promise you this, I’ll send you all my love in letter, sealed with a kiss.”

For the rest of the scene, she acts in a sexualized manner, something we haven’t seen from her before, in actions or dress. She thinks Andre wanted to be alone in the room with her in order to perform sex acts, like he did with Zarah in the Night Car, and Erik and did with her. (The train is a small town with a large rumor mill.)

So, she puts on Erik’s sex music and dances for Andre like she did for Erik. Erik may even have been prostituting her out, with or without her father’s blessing, on their trips to the tail. The “Blue-Eyed Firstie Girl” would draw a good price.

LJ brings up the Tailie cannibalism story. She thinks it’s a good story, because it makes everyone scared of Andre. She’d eat someone to make everyone scared of her, the way they are with the Tailies.

She totally called him on that story. That’s exactly why he told it to Till and Pelton during Sean’s autopsy. Till has been busy creating the Legend of the Tailie Detective, just as Andre planned.

Andre thinks about what she said for a minute. She’s given him an opening he can use to to exploit her for his own purposes. He makes his decision.

“I know this song. So did Nikki Genet.” He tells her he recognizes what she’s saying. He’ll insert her into his official story of the crimes Erik committed.

LJ: “You know, you’re a lot cooler smashing the system than you are being Wilford’s dick.”

(This is about more than just the murders. Erik wasn’t just a hitman with a flare for gruesome crime scenes.)

Andre (chuckles): “Well, maybe we can do both.”

(He understands that. Next he offers his plan and where she fits in it.)

Andre, holding out the J-hook: “Erik ever tell you what he did with this?”

By asking her what Erik did, he’s admitting he knows she’s innocent and putting the ball in her court for a moment. This is her chance to back out and tell him straight out that she had nothing to do with Erik’s crimes. Or they can build a story that includes her in the murders, so that Melanie can’t sweep Erik’s death and all the others under the rug.

LJ gets a sly look on her face. She understands what he’s doing.

Cut to Lilah saying “Never.”

Lilah acts like a mother for once and confesses LJ’s innocence for her, but it remains unheard.

Lilah tells Melanie that Erik practically raised LJ.

He cared about her in his twisted way and probably didn’t involve her in the murders or describe them to her. If she was the Bonnie to his Clyde, it was only after she was extensively groomed. The episode makes the case that Erik wasn’t born a killer either, he was turned into one by the abuse he suffered as a child, his military training and experiences and the oppression he suffered.

Robert insists to Lilah that they tell the truth, because it will come out anyway. He admits that “Erik and LJ are close”.

Robert: “I can’t say no to her. It’s these times. Morality is a moving target.”

After blaming Erik for following orders when told and/or paid to commit violent acts, Robert now admits that he gave a violent adult man permission to have sex with his young teenage daughter under his own roof. Then he blames his teenage daughter and society for his inability to say no.

Robert is a sociopath.

He generally lets Lilah take the fall for him in public, though it’s clear he’s the one with the ultimate power. He attempts to keep his hands clean and his reputation flawless at all times, and when he can’t, he claims he was led astray due to his compassion or some other understandable flaw, while others were the real wrongdoers.

Jinju visits Anton, a tailor in the Chains, to pick up a gift for Bess. Erik wears a hoodie and wanders the Chains anonymously while Bess and Oz search. When they spot him, he steps into Anton’s shop and grabs Jinju. Anton is shocked to see a gun. Erik tells both hostages to be quiet.

Andre tells LJ that they took him out of the Tail against his will to solve Sean’s murder. He doesn’t care how the case turns out. But Erik screwed up by castrating his victims, since that turns a cold-blooded contract kill into a crime of passion. And, according to Andre, castration is a punishment that women lay down on men.

A quick google search will tell you that this isn’t true, but, once again, this is fiction. Layton is sending this story in the direction he wants it to go, just as Melanie and Ruth spend their days doing.

He told LJ they could smash the hated system together, so she’s listening for what he’s offering. She could punish a man named Wilford if she goes along with Andre’s version of events.

Andre: “That wasn’t [Erik’s] idea was it? He was probably just controlling the victim for somebody else, right? So, are we playing your song?”

He holds the J-hook out to her with a small smile. She looks at it for a long moment, then makes her decision and takes it. She continues dancing.

He just asked her if she’s willing to go along with his version of events. By taking the J-hook, she agreed. She doesn’t completely understand the implications of what he just implied.

Andre: “S**t, if I was a blue-eyed Firstie girl, I’d be playing for time, too. Erik’s going down in a blaze of glory, right?”

I’m not completely sure about what he means about playing for time. He must be implying that she’s trying to put off being arrested for as long as possible, hoping she’ll get off, the traditional meaning of the phrase.

But it’s clear that’s not what she’s doing. She’s already turned Erik in and told them where to look for him. That’s the opposite of playing for time. I don’t think Erik planned to go down in a blaze of glory, though I do think he plans to shoot the electrical junction box, so maybe his death is also planned. This episode doesn’t give us all of the information we need to understand what’s happening during the questioning and manhunt.

LJ: “He’s not going to the drawers.”

Andre: “So, no one tells… And you finally got to feel something… When he held those men down for you.”

No one tells… Both Nikki and Erik die in order to ensure their silence. LJ revealed he hadn’t come home after the fight so that he’d be part of Andre’s investigation before the jackboots murder him, rather than after he’s dead when the case will quickly be closed. She also makes sure that he’s killed rather enduring whatever it is they’re doing to people in the drawers. LJ and Erik may have had a suicide pact saying they’d rather die than go to the drawers.

And you finally got to feel something… I’m not sure about this yet- I think he’s giving her something to use in her trial, but it could be what he really thinks of her. She’s not numb inside at all, instead she’s putting up a good front, but anyone who resents her only sees the front, not the fragile bravado. At a trial that’s meant to crucify her and First Class, acting like a spoiled, numb Firstie who killed Thirdies for sport would make the lower classes even more angry, which is Andre’s goal. It’s also a good mask for LJ to wear to help her get through the upcoming ordeal. He probably already guesses he won’t be there for it, but she doesn’t.

When he held those men down for you… She hasn’t seen the bodies up close, so she needs to make sure her story fits the forensic story they tell. He’s giving her the information she needs.

She’s a little overwhelmed by how intense this all is. Then they look at each other with a glint in their eye and the deal is sealed. They play a little game, where she pretends to try to bribe him to let her go, but she’s really offering to actually get the Tailies stuff if they can figure out the logistics.

I believe that she and Erik were drug runners who were taking the kronole from 1st/2nd to 3rd Class, so this isn’t actually as naive an offer as it might seem. (They were getting noodle soup at the 3rd class lunch counter, remember?) She knows the bodyguards, the kronole network and is wealthy. She can use that.

She offers to get blueprints; he counters with guns. We don’t see the end of that conversation, so whether or not they make a deal is left a mystery. But she points at his crotch, where he kept items that Zarah smuggled to him. Maybe she wants to trade sexual favors for whatever she can get him. Maybe she’s telling him others have made that kind of deal, as we’ve seen multiple times.

LJ having access to guns isn’t a surprise. Access to blueprints suggests there’s a sympathetic engineer. Is Ben a double agent?

Back to the manhunt for Erik. Things are getting real. Roche and Grey have pulled the bulk of their men toward the Chains. He has Jinju and Anton sitting on the floor of the shop at gunpoint. He says, “She said this was coming?” Jinju asks him, “Who? Your girl?” Strange that she would jump to that assumption. When Jinju says that, Erik elbows Anton in the head and picks up Jinju, taking her out of the shop with him.

He puts himself in plain sight at the end of the car and lets everyone get a good look at Jinju, train chef and chemist, plus Till’s girlfriend. He fires a shot into the crowd to make sure he has their attention- this part was preplanned. Then he drags Jinju through a set of doors and through 2 cars full of server banks.

Seriously, is every other car a server farm? What are they for? While that would explain their perpetual battery issues, shouldn’t the heat they generate easily heat the train?

When they get to the other end of the car, he opens a hatch to the subtrain. They get down to the next level just before the brakemen and jackboots catch up, led by Till.

Erik takes Jinju a little way down the track, stopping next to a sign that says “Subtrain 778”. He has her stand on the opposite side of the track from him while they wait for law enforcement to catch up. She asks his name, but he doesn’t answer.

When the jackboots reach the ends of the cars to either side of him, he has Jinju turn around and kneel. He tells the jackboots to drop their batons. Then he shoots at an electrical junction box that’s above Jinju’s head. The bullet ricochets off the box and hits Erik in the arm. It leaves a hole in the box with something venting out. Methane? Steam?

Once he’s incapacitated by the bullet, Grey has the jackboots advance on him. He puts up a good fight, but he’s no match for their axes. They hack him to death, then keep hacking until he’s in pieces. Roche calls Melanie to give her the news.

Melanie is still in the Folgers’ car. She’s on the phone a long time and has a strange look on her face. When she tells the Folgers that Erik’s dead, LJ bursts into tears. As Lilah holds LJ, Andre nods to Melanie that she should arrest the Folgers’ daughter.

Andre: “Erik was a dog who did what he was told. And Lilah Junior told him to torture and kill two 3rd Class men.”

The Folgers are outraged. LJ attacks Andre, but the jackboots subdue her.

Seriously? The first murder must have been when she was 12 or 13. She’s quite the femme fatale in the making. LJ thought she was admitting to acting as Erik’s accomplice, whose only crime was the castrations, which would be close enough to cannibalism to make her seem formidable to the train. She’d serve a short sentence in the drawers and then get out, like Nikki. But she wouldn’t be murdered, because there would be no reason to.

By saying that Erik held the men down while LJ committed the crimes, Andre made her the one who was culpable and him the accessory. Andre didn’t tell LJ whether he’d say she or Erik committed the murders. She should have kept her mother, an attorney, in the room during the questioning, in order to avoid this very thing.

As Voice of the Tain, Melanie announces that the killer is dead and another suspect has been arrested. Order has been restored and justice will prevail. Andre asks if she’s in charge of making sure justice prevails.

She offers to buy him a drink in the Aquarium Bar. They toast each other with sake and she asks him what he thinks Wilford’s secret was. He says he just wants to go back to the Tail. She tells him she can’t let him do that. He’s seen too much. And she knows he’s figured out her secret.

He passes out from drugs in the wine. She makes sure he doesn’t get hurt on the way down, then tells him she’s sorry.

Well, as long as she feels bad about it.

Last Australian passes out nutrition bars in the Tail, with the charm of any professional maitre d’. He finds a metal capsule from Astrid hidden in one and brings it to Josie. The message inside says, “Layton’s missing.”

Melanie oversees Klimpt as he preps Andre for the drawer. She tells Klimpt to keep him off book and undamaged.

Commentary

Andre is nothing if not brave. He goaded Melanie into putting him in the drawers with Pike and the other Tailie rebels and she played into his hands. But who would be willing to voluntarily undergo the drawers after everything we’ve watched Nikki go through for the last 3 episodes?

Grey had Erik thoroughly killed so that the story can circulate and become a legend which appeases the masses. We saw Oz weaving a similar story about the rebellion of episode 1. But if 3rd Class isn’t worked up about getting justice over a Firstie murdering Thirdies, they won’t join Andre’s rebellion. He needs a true Firstie on trial.

Is it me, or does Ruth seem to be looking fresher and happier each day, while Melanie looks more frazzled as Snowpiercer’s order becomes harder to maintain? And Ruth is always making sure she keeps Robert, the kingpin of First Class, happy, no matter what. When the military coup happens, does she have plans to become the new Melanie?

The holes the butcher made to breach the cattle car window looked alot like the bullet hole Erik made in the electrical box. Will the holes in the cattle car window be discovered and used to frame someone eventually?

I can’t imagine that Melanie, Miss Audrey and Zarah are supposed to sisters or even related, but they sure look like they should be. Somebody got Zarah called up out of the Tail and into the Night Car. Meanwhile Melanie and Audrey snipe at each other like two people with a history that goes far beyond a business relationship, especially if we’re to believe that Melanie doesn’t visit the Night Car. There’s some bad blood between them, and Melanie’s guilty enough about it that she lets Audrey speak in openly negative terms to her in front of Andre. Of course, that could be one of the reasons Andre has to go in the drawer at the end of the episode…

Speaking of 19 Century mourning practices (I will later), the hair of the dead was often collected and made into artwork or jewelry as a keepsake, much as we keep the dead’s ashes and sometimes make keepsakes with cremation ashes. Klimpt has been seen with passengers’ hair several times now. Could he be collecting samples for this purpose, since there wouldn’t be a crematorium or cemetery on the train? There might not even be photographs or any way to paint portraits, other than for 1st Class.

In her opening voiceover, Jinju mentions that many of the wealthy uploaded their consciousnesses. Shends by saying she just wants to provide some happiness on Snowpiercer. Nikki said being in the drawer wasn’t like sleep. This makes me wonder if the server banks hold uploaded consciousnesses and the people in the drawers are having their consciousnesses uploaded and experimented on. Did Nikki go to the San Junipero of Snowpiercer’s server banks?

That would add a new wrinkle to Melanie sending Andre to the drawers. Maybe she’s actually showing him another aspect of the train before she brings him in on her rebellion against 1st Class. Server farms suck up an incredible amount of energy. If they hold wealthy people’s minds and much of Snowpiercer’s battery power goes to power servers, it would be an injustice most people aren’t even aware of. “The other work” might be the search for a way to create fast growing human clones and then develop a way to download minds into them.

Jinju’s opening statement, in addition to her scenes with Klimpt, also lead me to believe she’s the one who makes the kronole.

Snowpiercer’s Distortions

This episode is full of optical illusions, mirror images and visual distortions. If you didn’t understand that nothing is as it seems on Snowpiercer before, the scene in Melanie’s cabin should have told you all by itself, between the skewed view of the world (map), the outer layer peeled off the fruit by a different person from the one who was meant to eat it (Eve gave Adam the apple, kids), the reversed image of the name of Melanie’s Ivy League school.

Then there was the way Melanie was up all night, alone, to figure out how to save humanity using goat flatulence. All of those heroes running around all episode, trying to catch a serial killer, and Melanie is busy being the real hero in the dark of night, figuring out how to use goats more efficiently. SO emasculating to the poor jackboots and their leader.

Both Ben and Melanie appeared in the mirror, suggesting he might have a double life we don’t know about yet, maybe just as her boyfriend, maybe something beyond that. Miss Audrey and Andre also spoke to each other while pacing in front of a mirror in a padded room. Contradictions upon contradictions. How are we to ever find the truth with those two?

There were reflected images everywhere in this episode, too many to analyze what it might mean for every character. They’re all spies, they’re all being spied on, they’re all using the black market and the black market is using all of them.

Widow’s Weeds and Proxy Wars

A note about Miss Audrey’s mourning outfit, which she’s wearing complete with the weeping veil, to make sure we know she’s in mourning dress: The custom of wearing of all black, or widow’s weeds, during a long period of mourning, often for a year and a day after the death of a husband or close relative, was at its height throughout the 19th century. It’s particularly associated with Britain’s Queen Victoria because after her husband died in 1861, she wore her widow’s weeds for the rest of her life, another 40 years. In the US, widow’s weeds are also associated with our Civil War, when so many died on both sides and many widows and children were impoverished because there were no men left for them to remarry.

Make no mistake, Miss Audrey is wearing that veil as a symbol of rebellion, to remind Melanie of her failures, and Melanie knows it. Miss Audrey is wearing a 50s/60s version of widow’s weeds, when she’d be mourning her Korean and Vietnam War dead- two Cold War proxy wars in which innocent young men died for the political struggles of the powerful and wealthy.

Similar to the way Sean, Nikki and Erik are dying for Melanie and the Folgers’ Cold War on Snowpiercer.

If you understand Miss Audrey’s outfit, you can solve Sean and Nikki’s murders, understand the kronole drug war and decode what happens to Erik and LJ in this episode.

More on the Power Structure on the Train

First, a little more of my theory of what’s happening on the train: My current guess is that the Folgers are the drug kingpins who ultimately finance and control the kronole trade, and probably other black market businesses, but Lilah and Robert don’t get their hands dirty. York is the COO who takes care of the daily drug and gambling operations, maybe more, such as prostitution, blackmail and protection for all of those independent small businesses in 3rd.

Erik and the other bodyguards are drug runners and possibly in collections for gambling debts and protection money. Jinju is the kronole cooker. She’s probably its inventor. Klimpt was covering for her, but he’s also heavily involved in the black market and probably in the drug market. He may actually be the one to hand kronole off to a courier, as he said.

That makes a minimum of 3 factions on Snowpiercer- Melanie’s official Authoritarian State, The Tail, and the First Class Business Empire. There’s also the military and the 3rd Class, with its independent economy of artists and small businesses. Roche seems loyal to Melanie and Grey seems loyal to the Folgers. Grey also seems like he might be using the Folgers until he can seize control of the entire train in a military coup. Roche seems like his loyalty is real. For now, we should probably count the military as a fourth faction which can act independently, split in two or side with one of the other factions.

The same is ultimately true of 2nd and 3rd Class, since they are made up of individuals. Most of 3rd Class might side with the Tail, but they like to eat and have heat, too. Melanie provides that and there’s no evidence that the Tailies have thought through how they’d keep the lights on after their rebellion. They have to show they have engineers and ag workers on their side and can keep the train running, in good repair and continue to produce food, not just provide social equality, before people will fully support them for the long term. Otherwise, they may manage a rebellion, but the people may want a return to Melanie’s or Grey’s order soon after.

The Night Car is the final faction. It’s still a mysterious place, but if even 1st and 2nd Class use its services, it will make up for its small size with power and influence in the underground economy. The treatment and behavior of Miss Audrey seems to suggest that this is true. Audrey has made it clear from the start that she’s on the side of revolution, but she prefers to move slowly and carefully. She might not like having her hand forced by Andre.

Even without the Tailies’ rebellions, there is constant tension, which rises occasionally to Cold War status, between the other factions in the rest of the train. Sean, Nikki and Erik all fell victim to this. Andre knows much more about the front of the train than we were led to believe at first, but it’s not clear how well he understands these political nuances.

His goal is apparently to smash the entire power structure, rather than to actually work with any of the leaders he’s seemed to make alliances with in order to restructure the system so it’s more just. Out here on the planet’s surface, you can theoretically smash the system and still get food and water and other resources while your country is in complete disarray.

Snowpiercer, on the other hand, is a delicate system that may go into a death spiral if not carefully handled, or so we’ve been told. There are still a lot of secrets, like what those endless banks of servers are doing. Are they full of people who are waiting for the thaw and new, cloned bodies? Are they the real, resource sucking 1st Class who contribute nothing to Snowpiercer’s survival?

Or do those servers hold the sum total of all human knowledge, including the genome for every living thing which had its DNA sequenced before the Freeze? When Melanie calls Snowpiercer an ark, is that what she means? Does the train hold the possibility of cloning lost species?

Beyond the servers, maintaining the health of the living things, including the plants, animals and people, on the train under such harsh conditions, for such a long time, would be next to impossible. Anyone who’s ever gardened or kept tropical fish can tell you that living things don’t do well outside of their natural environment. It’s hard work to maintain an artificial environment even when you can order what you need from Amazon.

There’s a reason Jinju and Melanie are the two most stressed people on the train. I believe Andre’s heart is in the right place, but because he’s been sheltered in the Tail, I’m afraid he’s not taking all of the variables into account and will kill the experts he needs to keep the train alive. Revolutions often succeed, only to have their countries fall into years of chaos or fascism. Andre might underestimate the power held by the Folgers and Grey, who will work together to seize control. They do understand how the train works and they’ll simply enslave the people who are essential to its survival.

Misogyny, Oppression and Child Soldiers

In 2020, it’s not okay to use the “Lolita/Eve Made Me Do It” defense, especially when Lolita/Eve is being framed to benefit a man. Even in war. By using LJ as a pawn, Andre proves that he’s no better than Melanie. I suspected that they were essentially the same character and that his warmth was just another tool in his arsenal. This proves it.

Andre and Melanie have the same fatal flaw. They both want to save people as an abstract idea, but in practice, they are willing to sacrifice or betray any individual in service of their goal. The end justifies the means, whether the means is a child of the enemy or their own spouse.

Perhaps even their own child. The Folgers have crossed that line. It’s not clear yet whether Andre has gone beyond using the idea of Miles and used Miles himself. Like LJ, Miles has certainly volunteered to be used as a child soldier for Andre’s cause.

Winnie has already been used in the rebellion. Suzanne took responsibility for sending her tiny daughter into battle and took the punishment for her, which was the right thing to do. Winnie was blatantly used because of her size. It’s not clear how much she even understood of what she was doing and she’s too small to defend herself from enemy soldiers.

The Tailies are desperate and crossing lines, while Andre is bragging to Melanie that his people are better than that. They’re not. They’re as oppressed as people can possibly be and they work hard to make their lives better in a variety of ways. But they aren’t a utopia and they aren’t better people than the ones in the front of the train.

Everyone has lines that they won’t cross. I guess cannibalism isn’t that big of a deal to Andre, since he brags about it. The exploitation of children for sex and war is my line in the sand. Andre crossed that line and I can’t look at him the same way now.

The Folgers are much, much worse, since they aren’t fighting wars against deprivation and oppression. They are just sociopaths who sacrificed their own child for profit and their own convenience.

But I’m worried that Andre and the writers look at LJ and see a spoiled rich girl who’s never wanted for anything and dares to complain about her petty problems when put alongside the overwhelming problems of the Tail.

My issue is, why is it a competition?

The Tail’s problems are extreme, and should never be forgotten, but their existence doesn’t mean that LJ doesn’t also have a dead end life, monstrous parents and a serial killer, pedophile boyfriend who began sexually abusing her when she was too young to consent, with her cold-blooded parents’ permission. That’s a horrific existence. No one should have to live with their rapist and his gun in a train car. LJ was fighting her own war, and she finally won, only to be drafted into Andre’s war.

Miles had people who loved and educated him, even in the extreme deprivation of the Tail. LJ had psychopaths who used her, but she had enough to eat. She did not have a healthy childhood, anymore than Erik did.

youtube

Images Courtesy of TNT.

Snowpiercer S1E4: Without Their Maker Recap- Sean's murder is solved, Lolita gets blamed, Josie visits 3rd Class, Andre visits 1st Class, & Melanie pulls out her bottle of poisoned sake. The Revolution approaches. OneTail #Snowpiercer In Snowpiercer episode 4, Sean's murder is solved, Josie visits 3rd Class, Andre visits 1st Class and Melanie pulls out her bottle of poisoned sake.

#Alison Wright #Daveed Diggs #dystopia #Jennifer Connelly #lena hall #metacrone #post apocalypse #recaps #review #science fiction #Snowpiercer #Susan Park #Without Their Maker

0 notes