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xwing-baby · 3 years

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The Guide: Chapter 1/? (Ezra x f!Reader)

gif from @spectroscopes

word count: 5.2k

chapter warnings: reluctant saviour to lovers, injury to reader, one mention of rape, little angst, world building :)

summary: The Guide to Everything Ever is expanding, you are sent out to the furthest reaches of Nowhere to catalogue the planets there. What should have been a quick research mission quickly turns to disaster when you crash on a small forest moon. Injured, with no means of communication, you have to rely on the good will of a mysterious stranger...

a/n: first ever Ezra fic lets gooo!! i am super hyped for this i hope you all enjoy it as much as i do <3

masterlist // asks are always open :)

While The Guide to Everything Ever did cover everything ever, it was a little misleading in the boundaries of everything. History was no issue, there was even a large section of the book on prophecy, millions of consequences mapped out on a fold out flow chart. No, the issue was with physical boundaries of everything.

A long time ago the boundaries of the civilised universe were drawn up. From Eden to Xion-5, trillions of stars and quadrillions of planets all included inside the red line separating us from the somehow even more vast expanse of Nothing. There was nothing in Nothing, that much was well known. That was until a group of explorers did what explorers do and found Something. Something in Nothing makes Nothing impossible so the leaders of this great universe came together and decided The Guide to Everything Ever had to include this new Something in their Everything.

That is where you come in.

The Guide to Everything Ever has always relied on first-hand experience. The first edition was a disaster. It only contained the things everybody knew: how to fold a bedsheet and how to get your dog to not hump the postman. The only vaguely interesting part of the Guide was the planetary comments. Even those could send the most interested scientist to sleep! They tried using robots for the first edition, a mere collection of data from far away planets. This was not successful and The Guide only sold four copies.

The next edition was more ambitious. The editors worked out people were a lot more interested in different planets than they were in barbarian fortifications but they did not want to read reams of boring data from a robot called Steve. They wanted a real Steve to give his experience on these new planets. Honest, often humorous, and yet entirely educational extracts of missions across the stars. It didn’t matter that space travel was accessible to everyone. It saved everyone a lot of time waiting in those cold and boring shuttles to get from one side of the universe to another. They could sit in the comfort of their own homes and learn about the man-sized carnivorous plants of Ereta, the beautiful fabrics created on Lii, or which drinks to avoid if you ever find yourself in a Beetjing bar.

The Guide was a success from that point onwards and expanded each year. Soon the job of researcher became a coveted occupation. You were lucky to get into the academy. Only ten new researchers were added each century. You worked your entire life to get in and it paid off, you were off on your first mission into the furthest reaches of Nothing to report back on the wild ‘verse that filled it.

A long time ago space travel was thought of as the most exciting thing anyone could ever do. It was for a few decades but two centuries later it was commonplace. A lot like the London Underground, you just stuck your headphones on and let that distract you until you reached your far more interesting destination.

For your trip you had chosen to watch Anzarch Hospital. A rather cheesy Martian holovid show, it had been going for years. You were on season 85, with only ten episodes left until you were entirely caught up ready for the season finale which was due to air when you returned from this trip. You would rather be at home watching the episodes but this trip to the end of the line was necessary. It wouldn’t take long, a few rotations at least and then you could go to Annie’s party and watch everyone’s favourite doctor finally find out who killed her robot nurse wife.

Nobody ever said Martian holovids were high class, but they were fun.

The computer interrupted your binge, alerting you with a ding that you were within range of your destination and would be stepping out of hyperspace. You pressed a few buttons, accepted the action, and went back to the episode.

It wasn’t until a few moments later when the lower pitch dong did not sound to let you know you had dropped out. Confused, you switched off the holovid and moved back to the cockpit. It was a new ship, it shouldn't have hyperdrive issues yet. But well versed as you were with glitchy hyperdrives you knew what to do. You pressed some buttons, pulled a lever, dragged the ship out of autopilot and twisted one final knob to drop out safely and without panic.

Your routine was correct. The ship dropped out of hyperspace but as the darkness cleared so did any sense of calm. You were already in the thermosphere, hurtling down to the forest covered grounds at electric speeds. Alarms blared as soon as the devices registered the new atmosphere and severe lack of control.

“Please slow down, your destination is ahead at 750 km,” The computer said cheerfully.

“Stupid thing! You’re going to kill me!” You yelled over the alarms.

“That’s not very nice,” The computer replied, “It’s not my fault the hyperdrive isn’t working,”

“You knew?” You shouted. The sides of the ship rumbled and rattled as the change in air density dragged along the surface. The holoprojector vibrated off the table, crashing to the ground and smashing into pieces. There goes all your holovid downloads, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Destination in 400km,” Every minute of your training was coming back as you worked through every combination of buttons and levers on your dash. Nothing was working.

“Computer? Is there still a parachute in this model?” It was archaic but you prayed that your ship was old enough to still be fitted with one. If it, wasn’t you were never going to slow down fast enough?

“Yes, would you like me to deploy it?” The computer asked.

“Yes!” You shouted at the machine.

“Deploying parachute,”

The parachute erupted from the back of the ship with a loud hiss and pop as it opened into the air. The sudden draw backward lurched you forward, smacking your head onto the metal dash in front of you.

You groaned, holding your hand to the injury immediately. A good splattering of blood now set across the screen and was dripping down your face into your eyes.

“Destiable approach im one minu,” The computer said. You frowned, trying to concrete over the throbbing pain in your head. “Systeeee affectabed,”

“Please tell me I’m not having a stroke,” You pleaded. You were not. You could speak and understand language perfectly. The computer, however, was not okay.

Computers are all well and good, very helpful things to have around that is until their processors are catapulted out by a poorly fitted fabric parachute.

You didn’t have time to worry about the broken computer as the trees below were coming closer and closer.

“Fourteenth millennia remaaaa,” The computer slurred. You ignored it. You didn’t need a reminder of how closer to being impaled by a huge tree you were. Instead of panicking you did the only thing you could, strap in and hope that it was all over quickly.

You pulled the straps of the pilot’s seat down tight over your arms, gripped the armrest tight and shut your eyes. The ship whistled through the air, the drag of the parachute doing very little to slow it down. You screwed your eyes shut, cursing every god you have ever known at your terrible luck. You would never see your family again, never see your friends again, and even more importantly you would never find out who killed the nurse in Anzarch Hospital!

The first contact with forest sent the ship off its course, spinning wildly out of control as the craft hit branch after branch. You screamed as the ship tumbled to the ground.

Finally, you came to a stop. Upside down, hanging from a tree, your ship rocked from side to side. You groaned, aching all over from the rough treatment of your descent. You spat out the blood that had pooled in your mouth and tried to think of a plan. Much like the now dead computer you couldn’t really think in words. More drawled sentences drowned out by pain.

The smell of fuel was the thing to get you moving. You gently unbuckled yourself from the seat, careful to not drop yourself on the ceiling and injure yourself anymore. You climbed around the small circular pod to reach the door.

Inhospitable atmosphere. Air unfit for external respiration, respirator advised.

You grumbled and cursed as that warning meant you’d have to climb up the wall of the still swaying pod to reach your kit. It was heavy and difficult to put on at the best of times, this was quite possibly the worst of times.

With a sharp tug the suit and helmet fell out of the cupboard above your head, narrowly missing you as it fell. Carefully, so as not to trip on the steel beams of the ceiling at your feet or cause the ship to swing and fall any further, you pulled the suit on. It was soft, having never been worn before, lightweight and fit you well. The helmet was heavy, a seal at the bottom to prevent any toxins leaking in and the filter was attached to the back of the dome. It was not ideal but you hoped you could find civilization quickly and would be able to take it off fast.

Helmet on. Bag on. Boots tied. Out the door.

In the small amount of luck, you still held, the ship was only six feet above the ground. You sat on the top of the door and jumped out, landing gracefully on your feet in a large patch of unusual plants. The air filter quietly hummed as it set to work cleaning the air around you and you inspected your surroundings. That was where your luck ran out, as you gathered yourself together you looked to your wrist, to the screen of your watch to look at a map to discover the direction you should go, only to find it smashed beyond repair. You had no guidance.

Dark forest was all you could see in any direction. The canopy was so dense only a small sprinkle of light made its way to the floor. Bouncing off the particles in the air, the space around you glittered in the light. It was silent, only the wind rustling through the grass and twigs under your boots made any noise. You picked a direction and walked, hoping you would come across someone soon.

You found a single well-trodden path after an hour of walking through waist high grass, the pollen of which had now covered your suit in a green blue film that made your hands itch terribly when you touched it, bringing up red rashes almost immediately.

The path made its way through the trees, more light coming through as you made it to the edge of the forest. You couldn’t make out much beyond the break in the trees as the contrast between the darker interior showed the outside in white light. You smiled; open space probably meant civilisation!

As you approached the light your eyes began to strain. Sharp pain cut into your eyes, you groaned and squinted bringing your hands to your helmet to cover them automatically. It was no use as a migraine was quickly taking hold. You continued forward, finally breaking the tree line, feeling the heat of the sun through the thin fabric of your suit.

Then everything went black

“What a curious creature,” A low voice woke you. Slowly you gained consciousness, immediately aware of the throbbing pain throughout your body, you pushed to sit up only to feel a heavy weight on your shoulder, “Careful now,” The stranger warned you. You peeled your eyes open and looked up at the creature that spoke. Dome headed in a yellowed fabric suit, Light reflecting off his head obscured his face. The creature spoke kindly and you would have believed the tone too if it weren’t for the pressure of his foot on your forearm and gun in your face. “What’s a thing like you doing in these parts?”

“I-I’m injured,” You tried to speak confidently but your pain overtook your tone as you opened your mouth, “My ship crashed not far from here,”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” The creature mused.

“Please,” You choked out as darkness threatened your vision once more, “Help me,”

The creature frowned, contemplating his decision as if he were choosing a candy bar at a corner store. You tried to move from under him but the effort was too much and you fell into unconsciousness again.

As your eyes closed and breathing softened, the stranger released his foot from your shoulder. His boot left a muddy footprint on the white material that covered your arm. He watched you for a few more seconds, then presuming you were dead he stepped over your body to the blue rucksack that had fallen just behind you. He was in desperate need of medical supplies and clean clothes wouldn’t hurt either.

The stranger rooted through the rucksack, pulling all kinds of things out. Clothes and food, writing equipment and a flip up device that he did not recognise as anything useful. There were no weapons, and no survival equipment of any kind. You were packed for a Sunday stroll, not a trip to the Green. Whoever you were, you were not like the usual people who came here.

The stranger’s cool demeanour changed when he saw your identification card. A gold card, approximately the size of his palm fell out of the bag and into his lap with a soft tap. He picked it up and inspected it, instantly knowing he was screwed. The Guide’s golden emblem was easy to recognise, while he couldn’t read the language that inscribed the card, he could make assumptions. You were a researcher. It was a well-known fact that Guide researchers were protected. If anyone found out you were dead, he would be convicted no matter what he said. There would be no planet in the entire universe he could hide on from the Guide.

Begrudgingly, he had to save you.

Without any other option, he shoved the contents of your bag back inside its original case and threw it over his shoulder. Then came the difficult task of moving you. It wasn’t for lack of strength that the stranger had difficulty with this task, more to do with the fact he had only one arm. He knew it wasn’t far to his camp, he had only been walking for five minutes before you fell into his path.

He couldn’t carry you. With only one arm it didn’t matter how strong the man was he could never hold you up well enough. He tried to wake you first, it would be far more helpful to him if you could walk. He shook your shoulders to try and rouse you but you were out cold. He had no choice but to drag you.

A quick assessment of your body told him you were not injured too badly, apart from the sores developing on your hands from exposure to pollen and a wound on your forehead inside your helmet. He checked your pulse again, feeling it strong through his gloves he was happy that you were not dead and would not be wasting his time. He grabbed the fabric around your shoulders and pulled you back to his camp.

It took a while but he made it there safely without cracking your helmet or injuring you anymore. He set you down on the floor of his tent, pulled his helmet off for comfort, then got to setting up a recovery bed for you.

The stranger pulled a rolled-up mat from under his cot and placed it on the ground and finally rolled your body in its final place on top and he waited for you to wake up again. It wouldn’t take long, he heard you mutter something as he carried you back and even in the low light of his tent, he could see your eyes moving behind your eyelids. The stranger sat on the edge of his cot, watching you carefully with his weapon in hand in case you woke up violent.

After a few moments, you began to stir. The first thing you noticed as you gained consciousness was the pain in your body. Every inch of your body throbbed but nothing more than your head. You felt hard ground beneath you, but no leaves or dirt, it was cold to touch. You peeled your eyes open, met with a low orange light bouncing off dark tent like material.

“Do not be alarmed,” A man said from across the room. You immediately turned your head to see but saw nothing more than a dark blob, “You are safe,”

You found it very hard not to be alarmed. The last thing you remembered was getting out of your ship into a forest, now you were in a small dark tent lit by one single golden lightbulb with a strange blob sat across from you.

Carefully, you pushed yourself up to sit up from your position on the floor. Noticing the blob was more of a man, and without a helmet, you figured it was probably safe to remove yours. With a sharp tug and a hiss from the oxygen tank you were open to the air and you set the helmet down next you. You rubbed your hand across the back of your neck, screwing your eyes shut as a headache shot through your skull.

You studied the man in the soft light. You could not guess his age, simultaneously old and young, you guessed he was a little older than you. He had tanned skin and dark hair with a curious white, blonde streak in the front. A surprisingly well-kept moustache and a spattered beard covered his lower face and a white scar on his left cheek all together created an intriguing character.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked. You nodded. His kindness was unsettling. There was a gentle tone to his voice and a kindness in his eyes but everything outside of that was the complete opposite. You could not remember how you got here; all you knew was the pain your body was in. Had he attacked you? Had he saved you from something else? He could have killed you, but he didn’t. Something must have enticed him to save you and bring you here. Then you saw it.

In the stranger’s hand, he held a gold card. Your identification card. The golden emblem projecting from the card flickered in the poor light, showing your name and number and rank.

“Should I be asking for an autograph?” The stranger looked back up at you, a smirk on his lips, “I’ve always wanted to meet an author,”

“I-I am not an author,” You coughed, clearing your throat before speaking, “I’m a researcher,”

“You pen those books though, don't you? The Guide?” He asked, “There’s not that much literature being produced this day and age,”

“Technically, but we like to think it’s a team effort,” You shrugged, “I just collect the data and write preliminary reports,”

“Does your team know you’re lost here?” The stranger asked.

“No, I… I don’t know,” You said sadly. The computer had broken before you could send a distress call. With no way to get a message to them from the outer ‘verse it would take weeks for anyone to realise anything was wrong, “I would have to find a signal strong enough to send a distress message but the only way I could do that was with my ship,” You thought aloud. You paused for a moment, trying to remember what actually happened when you fell from the sky, “Where is my ship? Where are we?”

“I never saw your transport I’m afraid,” The stranger said, “You must have walked a considerable distance before crossing paths with me,” You frowned, without your ship you were stuck, “I brought your backpack, if that's of any aid to you,”

You immediately lit up. Taking that as a yes, the stranger reached over the cot and pulled up your rucksack. It was caked in mud and a lot less full than you know it should have been, but you ignored his looting and grabbed the bag from his hands.

The only things left inside were your underwear and a hygiene kit. Your stomach twisted at the thought that you had lost the most important item in the bag. Dumping the contents on the floor you searched through every pocket. The Stranger watched you, one brow raised, wondering what you were looking for.

“Did you take it?” You asked, “It won’t work for anyone but me, you might as well give it back,”

“I do not understand,” The stranger looked puzzled, looking down at the things on the floor to see what had upset you.

“My Guide, where is it? I don’t care about the other things, I need that back,”

“There were no books in there,”

“That is Federation property,”

“You’re going to have to explain what it is you’re so agitated about; I do not know what your Guide is,”

“You do, because you stole it!” You exclaimed. Raising your voice made your head hurt more, you flinched and screwed your eyes shut again.

“I am many things but I am not a thief,” The Stranger was offended by your accusation. You scowled at him. He was a liar and a thief, “I took the food from your bag as payment for my saving you,”

“The Guide uses my biometrics, it won’t be of any use to you or anyone you could sell it to,”

“Hold on, do you mean the flip device?”

“Yes!”

“That thing’s important?” He seemed genuinely surprised, “You can have it, it’s no use to me,”

The stranger stood up and walked the two steps to the other side of the small space. From a cluttered table he picked up the black computer. You sighed in relief, there could be some hope for you yet. He passed you the gadget which to your amazement was still in working order. It had got a little scratched in the crash but you pressed your thumb to the lock and it opened it instantly.

Every researcher had their own personal guide. Similar to an ancient flip phone, used commonly on Earth in the early 2000’s, each Guide was a little bigger than your palm. Though small, it was very mighty. Not only did it store every piece of information a researcher collected, but it also allowed communication through text, audio and holo. Through the System there was unlimited access to other researchers' files, yet unpublished information and access to the ‘verse's existing records. There were maps and history of every planet, and more importantly to you at that moment, census records.

As you had expected, you had no signal on the surface of the moon to send a message to headquarters for a rescue. Instead you focused on what you could find out.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed the man’s suit. Though a little hard to read in the dim light you could make out what looked to be an ID number. You had to know who your captor (or saviour) really was. 875-162.

You typed in the worn black ink digits and waited. Nothing was notorious for its poor reception. The stranger was no longer interested in you know you were engrossed in the computer and not trying to attack him, he got up and was rustling around out of view.

Finally, the page loaded. A photo matching the stranger, though a little younger looking, flashed up in holo. You quickly covered the beam with your finger so as not to alert the man with you. You swiped down to read the information.

“Ezra,” You said under your breath as you read the page.

“I don’t remember giving you my name,” Ezra spoke, making you jump. You looked up, cheeks growing hot as you realised you had said it out loud.

“I searched your ID number,” you said, embarrassed you’d been caught, you told the truth. Ezra frowned, looking around him to see where you had seen it. You pointed to the suit piled up on the floor. The numbers were faded and hard to make out from the distance but you had worked it out. Ezra followed your finger and chuckled lightly.

“I forgot such identification exists,” He said, “You have good eyes to make it out from there,” He added.

You hummed in agreement. You were in perfect condition, had to be for the work. Perfect condition except for the concussion and various bruises on your body.

“Well now you know my name, can I enquire as to yours? I doubt that everyone calls you Researcher 42,” Ezra read your name from the ID card beforehand. Leant against the shelves next to him, he looked down at you.

“Some do,” You said plainly.

“That ‘some’ includes me, does it,” He raised an eyebrow, not expecting you to become so cold.

“Seems like it,”

“42 seems a little impersonal considering I just saved your life,”

“I’m meant to stay separated from my subjects. Anonymity helps with objectivity,” You explained. That wasn’t entirely true. You had always made friends with at least one person in every planet or city you researched. It was how you got the inside scoop, the local knowledge that made your articles so popular. Guide Guidance said that researchers stay anonymous for objectivity, but your popularity said otherwise. You just didn’t want to get any closer to Ezra, even just a quick glance at his record told you that he was not someone you wanted to be friends with.

As he had already shown you, he was a thief. He had been convicted of fraud, arson and two counts of murder. No wonder he was here. Most of the places in Nothing were hot beds for criminals like him. Nowhere in Everywhere would hire him, you expected that he had been hired by a contractor to come here and work for his freedom. There wasn’t much freedom stuck on the green though.

“Whether you give me your name or not, you’ve not got much choice in staying separated. A helpless thing like you will need protection here,”

“And you’ll offer that for free, will you?” You asked sarcastically, immediately knowing he would want something from you in return. You were already indebted to him for saving your life.

“There are a few things I desire,” He looked over your body, smirk twitching on his lips. You curled your lip and moved away from him.

“If you’re going to rape me, I’d rather try my luck out there by myself,”

“Oh no! No, little mouse I would never. I have done some felonious acts but I am not a savage!” He exclaimed quickly covering for himself. You regarded him sceptically. He had supposedly killed two people; he’d already crossed a line most people would not. You didn’t believe he wouldn’t step over that line too. “No, The Guide will want you back, I imagine anyone who returned you would be well rewarded,”

“Possibly,”

“Here’s my offer. I provide protection and shelter whilst you are here, and come that fateful day your deliverance arrives, you will negotiate considerable compensation for me,”

“What compensation would you want?”

“Enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my days free of obligation, a ship to get me off this rock and a clear record,”

“And if I say no?”

“Then you can see how well you fare in the forest alone. Food is pretty scarce this time of year and I wouldn’t put it past a few of them to push some more… basic human morals,” Ezra smirked as your eyes double in size. In all your travels you had never encountered cannibals, not human cannibals anyway.

“I- I can’t promise anything,” You stumbled over your worlds as you accepted faster than you should have. You didn’t know there was anyone other than Ezra on this planet, but you were not in the mood to find out.

“We will discuss details when the time comes,” He said. You nodded. “Now we have all that out the way,” He stood up from the floor, “I have to get to work,”

“What about me?”

“You aren’t coming with me,” He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But you just said-,” you started to protest until Ezra pulled a gun from seemingly nowhere, you immediately shut your mouth and flinched, “What is that?”

“Protection,” He held the gun out, waiting for you to take it.

“No, no, no! You said-“

“Until your people come to your aid, and give me my money, I’ve got to keep working. Any time wasted is money lost out here,” He explained impatiently. He stepped back closer to you and dropped the gun in your lap, “I assume you do know how to use that even if you don’t carry one yourself?”

You looked at the gun, assessing it properly. It wasn’t complicated, a barrel you assumed was already full of bullets and a trigger. Nothing you hadn’t seen before, apart from the electrical tape that was holding it together. With no more protest from you, Ezra assumed it was fine and stepped away, resuming his routine.

“I will be back at sundown. Help yourself to some food,” He told you.

“My food,” You corrected him.

“Remember who is dependent on who here, 42,” He said scornfully. With that he put his helmet back on to his head and left the tent leaving you all alone.

You waited a few moments to make sure he was gone before making your move. You couldn’t stay with a murderer. You were safer in your ship, wherever it was. You could make a distress call and be rescued. Ezra would never know.

You pushed the gun from your lap onto the floor and tried to stand up. Sat down you could feel how sore your limbs were, your back ached from just sitting up for a few minutes and you were pretty sure you could feel every bone in your feet. A light touch to the forehead told you there was a sizable egg growing on top.

Standing up the pain was worse. You immediately became dizzy, gripping onto the metal shelf quickly to stop yourself from falling. You cursed under your breath and took a deep breath. You could do it.

Or maybe you couldn’t.

You took one step towards the table of things Ezra kept, and fell back on your ass. You were lucky not to pull the shelves down with you as it rocked forward slightly. A few items fell off, narrowly missing you. You dodged the heavy items, cringing as the metal thumped to the ground.

Listening to your screaming body, you gave up. You shuffled back to your previously comfortable position against the wall of the tent and looked around you for something to keep yourself occupied.

There at your feet lay a small book. Ezra wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to meet an author, he apparently was a bibliophile. You picked the paper up, stretching to reach it over your bruised and aching legs. It was well worn, obviously water damaged as the pages curled and the image on the front as warped beyond recognition. The title: “Welcome to the Green”.

You were not going anywhere.

sooo what do you think? i had so much fun writing this fic, i hope you guys enjoyed it too. let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part :D

TAGGING usuals and interested people :): @hunters-heathen @peterssweetpea @beskarbabs @wille-zarr @fandom-blackhole @writeforfandoms @dindja @amneris21 @yespolkadotkitty

#ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra x f!reader #ezra x reader #ezra prospect #x reader #ezra prospect angst #enemies to lovers #prospect movie #ezra #pedro pascal character x reader #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal #the guide #molly writes

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moving-blogs-dm-for-new-one · 4 years

Text

heres another hlvrai fanfic i did that no one cares about <3

featuring autistic gordon, autistic benrey & tommy (implied) and angst with a happy ending <3<3<3

REBLOGS >>> LIKES

~~~

Gordon couldn't breath.

He could feel his blood pressure rising, and coercely he could feel the HEV suit trying to lower it. The feeling of his body and the suit working so hard against each other only fueled the feeling of overstimulation, and he was beginning to feel dizzy.

It was so loud in the room right now. "Bubby" and Dr. Coomer were talking to him (though, he had no idea what they were saying at this point. Bubby appeared to be angry with him, and Dr. Coomer was being his usual glitchy self, from what he could tell.) Tommy was playing with one of his many beyblades and trying to stay out of things, and Benrey was seated above them all on a box, laughing and letting out the stupid fucking "sweet voice".

Gordon fucking hated the sweetvoice. Mostly Benrey's. He didn't mind so much when the others did it. But to him, it always felt mocking when Benrey did it. Like a form of laughter, directly in his face. And right now, along with everything else, it was way more than he could handle.

Gordon wasn't a man to cry. He did cry, sometimes, he would admit. But he didn't like to, and fought it often. But right now, amidst all this chaos, when he felt the first tear break his eyes, he didn't care to stop it. A sob left his throat next, and Gordon squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his fists. The room fell quiet rather fast, apart from the noises wrenching out of Gordon's chest. Even Benrey's stupid sweet voice stopped.

"Shut up," he hissed, choking slightly on the end of the words and sniffling. He couldn't bear to look at them; he could feel the embarrassment and shame looming, but at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Just shut up. For one fucking minute. Please." He felt himself shaking within the suit and drew his arms up to hug himself, only growing more distraught when he heard the suits arms clank against his torso. Still here. Still in this stupid hell hole, living out what had to be the worst days of his entire life. He couldn't handle it. It was too much.

He dug the fingers of the suit into his arms, taking a deep breath and opening his mouth in what was supposed to be either a sob or a scream, he didn't know. But what did come out scared him worse than anything the day had thrown at him so far.

Gordon's eyes snapped open to the shocked faces of his colleagues, and the last whisps of the sweetvoice bubbling out of his throat.

He didn't breath. No one said a word. They just stared. It made him want to scream more, but he didn't dare open his mouth again.

But low and behold, his mouth started to fill, and when his lips burst open, out came the sweetvoice again. He's never seen it so...dark. It was always bright and colourful when the others used it, but his was black, slightly lightening into grey at the end. For a moment, just a moment, it almost distracted him away from the situation.

Tommy dropped his beyblade, and the clattering of it hitting the floor almost sent a nerve wracked Gordon through the ceiling. Tommy stepped forwards slowly, wincing when Gordon visibly flinched.

"Black to grey," He mumbled, concern flushed over his face.

"Black to grey means 'I'm afraid.'" He dropped to his knees, drawing a still trembling Gordon into his arms. For a moment, Gordon had absolutely no idea how to respond. But then his eyes blurred, and he fell into the embrace, letting himself weep into Tommy's shoulder.

Tommy shushed him gently, and Gordon almost laughed when he noticed Tommy was rubbing his back. He couldn't feel it through the suit, but definitely appreciated the gesture. After a few moments, Coomer appeared by his side, moving slow, quietly, and he drew both Tommy and Gordon into a strong embrace, placing his chin on Gordon's head. He noticed a hand awkwardly pat his shoulder, and when he recognized it to be Bubby's he almost laughed again.

They sat like that for a few minutes, and Gordon had to admit, it was nice. The nicest he'd felt in days. But everything was still so loud. Even the smallest movements were like sandpaper to his ears, despite how hard they were trying to be to be quiet.

He jolted a bit when he heard shuffling off to the side, and his eyes snapped open when something fell onto his head, covering it completely except for his face. He went to say something, but stopped, when he realized the room was suddenly much quieter? He blinked, relief flooding his body at the freedom from the noise. Looking over Tommy's shoulder, he saw Benrey kneeling down, awkwardly scratching his neck. His helmet was gone, long, messy black hair spilling over his shoulders and black, and he seemed...incredibly awkward. When he spoke, he spoke quietly, much quieter than usual.

"Heh….Cringebaby Feetman can't handle too much noise, huh?" He grinned, faintly, though it didn't have the usual mischeviousness behind it. He cringed when Gordon winced, taking a deep breath and adimantly looking away.

"Look. I--uh. Get. It," He started, scratching at the side of his neck again. Gordon had never seen him look so awkward and nervous in the whole time they'd been down here.

"Sometimes. Life is, uh, really fuckin' cringe, and it's like. Loud as shit." He shrugged, casting his eyes downward.

"That's, uh. What th' helmets for. Helps." He gestured vaugely at Gordon's head, and that's when Gordon realized that Benrey had given him his helmet. He felt his cheeks warm some, and he tucked his face further into Tommy's shoulder, casting his eyes away from Benrey.

They sat like that for awhile. Gordon didn't know how long, and he doubted the others did either. But they still sat quietly and waited for him to regain his breathing, and they still sat quietly when he started to drift off to sleep. The last thing Gordon saw was Benrey smiling fondly at him, thinking he was already passed out.

Gordon hadn't smiled that hard since before the resonance cascade, but that night was an exception.

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utroleplay · 6 years

Text

Maytal Challenge 2.0

Yes folks, you heard it right. A new year, a whole new set of drawing prompts. Some have been kept relatively the same whilst others have been changed due to some of the answers being given. Once again gotta give all the credit to peeps who created certain characters so please make sure you credit:

- @loverofpiggies for the creation of Geno and Error.

- @comyet for the creation of Ink.

- @popcornpr1nce for the creation of Blue (though Blue does belong to the Undertale Community now)

- @dokudoki for the creation of Core Frisk.

- @tobyfoxofficial for the creation of Undertale.

- @xedramon for the creation of Fatal, Fresh_Hell and G!Flowey

- and me for making the quiz.

So without further ado, here are your new and improved Maytal Challenge Prompts! (use the #Maytal2.0 for all drawings please cause I’d love to see them)

1- Fatal song day. Match some lyrics to his perspective. 2- Mysterious glitchy Sans day! Who is he? What is his deal? Why do he glitch? 3- It’s Mop Mother’s birthday (she’s turning 21 whooo!), draw the party. 4- May the forth be with Fatal Blog! Celebrate the anniversary! 5- G!Flowey day! Draw the sassy skeleton bud. 6- Fatal meets Geno. 7- What if Fatal succeeded in rebuilding his Papyrus? 8- Angsty angst. 9- Whatever happened to Fatal’s other code extraction victims? 10- Fatal plays DDLC. 11- Fatal in your favourite AU. 12- Fatal plays FNAF. 13- Gasterblaster Fatal. Have fun! 14- What did the FrankenPap actually look like? 15- AuntXed – how to deal with a glitching ball of anxiety and cuteness. 16- It’s time. Fatal has found Error. On a scale of ‘glitchy mess’ to *warning system error* how doomed are our computers and eyes for this fight? P.S. Does Ink and glitchy Sans just watch the fight and eat popcorn? 17- What would happen if Fatal tried to press the Continue/Reset button? (back from Hello World). 18- Movie night! Draw Fatal’s reaction to a movie! 19- Fatal meets Core Frisk. 20- Fatal finally loses it, using the scarf he wears to talk to himself as Papyrus. What does this look like? 21- Fatal meets Fresh_Hell. 22- Draw yourself meeting Fatal for the first time. 23- Memories. Take from this what you will. 24- What does Fatal keep in his red code strings? 25- A Fatal Monika has occurred. 26- How would Fatal react to meeting Chara? Your interpretations here! 27- Fatalberry fluff. Go wild! 28- Fatal plays Undertale. 29- Fatal meets Ink. 30- A Fatal Meme. 31- Last Day! Draw anything Fatal related as a farewell.

Thanks for taking part if you do and I look forward to seeing what the new year brings with this new Challenge!

#Maytal2.0

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thebandcampdiaries · 4 years

Video

youtube

You Died - Lividity Vol.1

February 2020 - Hailing from Forest Lake, Minnesota, You Died is a recording artist with a direct and forward-thinking creative approach, blurring the lines between different vibes and influences and incorporating so many different ideas into their sound. Recently, they released a brand new project titled “Lividity Vol.1,” which feels like a distinctive taste of what this artist is all about. The artist set the bar higher with 10 songs. Each track has something special about it, and it explores a different creative direction. The album begins with a 2-parts track, “King of Nothing,” which is split into two separate songs, each clocking in at around 3 minutes. This is a perfect introduction to the album, and it sets the mood for the rest of this release. The third song, “It Wails” actually also serves as a third part of “King of Nothing,” so it really brings this mini-suite to fruition, making for a stunning introduction to the whole project. These tunes boast some exciting production ideas, making them particularly unique and one-of-a-kind. The tone is absolutely stellar, a pattern that will follow along for the rest of the album. The huge bass especially is really striking because it feels absolutely massive, but it does not overpower the amazing balance of every element in the mix.

The fourth song on the release, “Ground,” was quite special and cinematic. The track kicks off with a lush soundscape and some glitchy textures, giving the song a eerie soundscape. The track explodes with an industrial-type beat and a massive bass sections with a buzz-saw distortion that feels aggressive and punchy as hell. The following track, “Guai,” follows along the same line, with some killer bass elements and textural distortion, bringing an edge to the composition. However, the song takes on a different twist almost right away, with some eastern string instrument samples, and volume swells merging into a minimalistic beat. The kick hits with so much powerful, and it really takes the cake for the roominess on the song! “Dissolute” has a cinematic feel to it and a very soundtrack-like introduction, which later evolves into a flavorful beat that makes me think of artists as diverse as Boards of Canada and Massive Attack, only to mention a couple. On this song, the mix is warm and balanced, allowing each element to sit in its right space, and in particular, letting the vocals stand out in a very pleasing way. “Doses With Ghosts” is one of the most melodic songs on the album, and its bouncy keyboard riffs almost make me think of trance music going berserk! “The Witch” is all about the soundscapes, with beautiful synth pads adding more to the melodic background of this release. The following track is titled “A Quicker Death Is The Struggle” and it has a nocturnal vibe that adds more to the sonic layers of this composition. In addition to that, it has a killer aggression on the beat, with the drum machine locking in perfectly with the fat bass tones. Last, but definitely not least, “Red” is one of the most diverse and ambitious compositions on this release. It starts with a blanket of sounds, and it develops into an industrial beat with so many nuances and production appointments. This track is an excellent example of what happens when genuine talent and vision get together with a strong production aesthetics and with spontaneous great vibes! In terms of production, I am really impressed by the weight and presence of the low-end especially, as I mentioned earlier. The bass is thick and present, really allowing the songs to be filled with movement and purpose. Moreover, the top end is crisp and warm, adding a lot of definition to the mix.

All in all, this release is truly special because it features such a natural and spontaneous approach to production. On one hand, the artist has a highly defined style, but on the other, he is always keen on experimenting and taking his music to different places. This is totally not a black and white release. It’s in full color, and if sound could be described with images, this would be close to a Jackson Pollock painting! I really love the sense of artistic freedom I get when listening to this song, and you can really tell that the artist took many creative chances when coming up with this one!

Find out more and don’t miss out on You Died’s music, as well as “Lividity Vo.1” and other releases from the artist.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2_A3pleW3c&list=OLAK5uy_nwMLGkeeFKynLpRFiD3pt6RnevVsQAsO0

https://www.facebook.com/youudied

https://www.instagram.com/youu_died/

Recommended if you like: Massive Attack, Korn, Dead Rituals, Nine Inch Nails, Aphex Twin, Nosaj Thing, Tool, Staind, Hanz Zimmer.

We also had the chance to catch up with the artist for an interview. Keep reading to learn more!

I love how you manage to render your tracks so personal and organic. Does the melody come first, or do you focus on the beat the most?

Answer: It all really depends on the day. I usually start with a beat, it's the heartbeat of the song. I like to build the 'body' of a song around that heartbeat. That said, if I really neat melody pops into my head, I'll always put it down. It all really depends on what inspired me at that moment.

Do you perform live? If so, do you feel more comfortable on a stage or within the walls of the recording studio?

Answer: I do play live. I love being on stage, but the music I make has a pretty niche audience so I'm picky about where I take bookings. I have a ton of energy, and the stage feels like home, but my studio will always be my sanctuary.

If you could only pick one song to make a “first impression” on a new listener, which song would you pick and why?

Answer: That's a really hard question. I guess it depends on the person. I try really hard to make every song unique in its own way, and I don't really follow a formula for writing my music. "Red" really shows the deep, moody, angst-driven vibe I like to go for, so I would probably lean towards that.

What does it take to be “innovative” in music?

Answer: Draw outside the lines. There is no right or wrong. Just make music and see where it goes. Some of it will be shit, and some of it will be gold. Either way, never be afraid to push the envelope.

Any upcoming release or tour your way?

Answer: I can't say too much at the moment, but there are some local events coming up that will be announced soon. And you can expect new music peppered throughout the next couple months, with another major release this summer.

Anywhere online where curious fans can listen to your music and find out more about you?

Answer: Definitely! You can find my music on all major platforms, and I release all sorts of stuff on my SoundCloud. You can follow me on Instagram and Twitter, and like me on Facebook to get updates and teasers for upcoming material.

Twiiter - @YouuDied

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