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i-fondued · 1 year

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Ghost | Sinners in Secret - Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty Three - The Prime Mover Ritual Incident Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader/Sister of Sin x Papa “Terzo” Emeritus III Rating: Explicit Warnings: Plot, smut, etc. See AO3 for full list of tags! A/N: I AM ALIVE AHAHA, it had been a long week. I am so so SO sorry I couldn't get this out any sooner, hopefully this is worth the wait. Next chapter won't be posted till the friday after this coming friday just to give myself some extra time and buffer because working two jobs and not getting home till almost 11pm 4 nights a week is really cramping my style.

As always, this chapter is has been reviewed by my beta, @lurancyvenom whom I love!

Full Chapter List - HERE AO3 Link - HERE

Traditionally, I was told, the Prime Mover ritual was held as the sun rose so the large monastery chapel was bathed in blood red morning light.

It had been decided that trying to organize the ritual while also waiting until I had been cleared by the healers was not going to happen, thus the ceremony and ritual had been moved from early morning to dusk. Instead of the rising sun greeting me as I rose above the ranks of Siblings and Clergymen, I was to be greeted by the twilight and bright moonlight. It was going to be a cloudless night was what Sister Imperator told me as she and the other Sisters arrived to dress me for my second to last, yet most important ritual.

“How are you feeling, Sister?” Imperator coaxed, hand resting gently on my bare shoulder as I was allowed to soak in the heat of the bath that had been drawn for me while I tried to calm my slowly frazzling nerves.

“Physically? Fine. Emotionally? Anxious,” I shrugged sheepishly, a small smile on my lips. “This feels like the biggest moment of my life and I’m worried I’m going to screw it up…”

“I wouldn’t worry, Cardinal Copia and Papa will be there with you, and I know you’ve practiced and drilled with Secondo for your parts.” She smiled, a warm motherly look on her face for a moment before she fought to put it away. “You’ve come into this role more than I had ever expected or ever dreamed of. You’ve blown my expectations out of the water. I’m proud to know you’ve come into your own since joining us at the Abbey.”

“T-Thank you, Sister Imperator,” I stuttered, voice thick with tears as I took her outstretched hand and squeezed it firmly. “It means a lot to me that you and everyone here had welcomed me all those years ago, I don’t think I’d ever have been this happy with a normal life…whatever normal is anyways…”

We laughed at ourselves as we wiped at the tears threatening to spill. We were two women from very different walks of life, but here we were together in Rome only hours away from myself becoming the closest thing we in the Clergy had to royalty. If anyone had told me what my life had in store for me when I took the habit, I would have laughed at them until I cried tears of disbelief.

“Come, Sorella. Let us get you ready.” One of the sisters came over to the bath, holding her hand out to me to help me from the sunken tub.

“Of course, thank you,” I smiled as another Sister helped wrap a towel around me and only paused slightly as her eyes floated over the large golden scar.

I felt my cheeks heat up before she apologized under her breath and continued to help dry me off, making a point to not let her eyes drift over my chest again. The two Sisters worked together, just like every ritual before this, buffing me with various abrasive cloths, and massaging my body with both fragrance and ritual oils. I could tell they were both mumbling something in Latin as they worked, but what they were chanting I couldn’t decipher. Once all of the various oils and creams laid out on the countertop were fully rubbed in, both women helped me into an enormous silk robe and tied the belt snugly around my waist.

“Time to eat something, Sister. You will need your strength for this long night,” one Sibling said, bowing to me as they led me from my bathroom to a table by the fireplace.

I looked around my bedroom, half hoping to see either Copia or Terzo, but they had long since been kicked out while I was getting ready. Only Swiss was here, sitting in the wingback chairs with our lunch on the table near him. Imperator was in the other corner of the room with two other Sisters who were rushing to set up the many, many, many layers of fabric that would eventually be helped onto my frame. My eyes widened a fraction and panic nipped at my heels as I thought about just how heavy the final garment would be. Behind the three women, on top of a dresser by the window were the layers of veils and several crowns and hairpins that would be added in the end.

“Sunshine, stop freaking out. I can feel it in my balls,” Swiss laughed, teasing me knowing it would pull my attention away from the anticipation of the evening.

“Gross, Swiss…I didn’t need to know that,” I laughed, the silk of my robe swishing against the ground as I walked over and sat down with him.

My mouth was watering as I saw the spread in front of me; a plate of chicken, roasted vegetables, and yellow rice. I tried to not inhale it, but before I could help myself I was already halfway done with the meal as Swiss chatted with me about the day and how my lovers were waiting for me.

“They both are anxious about seeing you, but they are also having to go through formal preparation.”

“Preparations?” I asked, staring at him quizzically.

“What? Did you think only you have to get greased up and wear about a hundred layers and pounds of fabric?” He laughed and I flicked a roasted tomato at him.

“You are feisty today, did you sleep too much?”

“I slept like a baby, thank you very much.”

We chatted and laughed, a part of me so relieved that there wasn’t any tension between Swiss and I. Especially with everything that had happened because of Veritas. Once I managed to eat everything on my plate, sip on the glass of water that had been left for me, and relax a little again, I found Sister Imperator coming over to collect me.

“It’s just about time, my dear. Are you ready?”

“Let’s do this.”

…

I felt like a Russian princess as I stood in front of the three mirrors set up to be able to see my gown from every angle. It had taken the better part of an hour to get me dressed and ready, that didn’t even include my various veils and crowns that had yet to be put on.

They started with a simple linen chemise that settled off my shoulders, then helped me into stockings that were tied tightly at the knee so they wouldn’t slip down and a pair of simple leather flats. Next was a Victorian style corset, cinching my waist in small but giving me support for the next few layers of the heavy gown. Over that was a thin linen petticoat and then a bustle cage to support the skirts and smooth out the bustle and train of the dress.

Two of the Sisters helped me guide the underskirt over my head. Made of white silk taffeta, it had a strip of buttons from the skirt up into a strip that would eventually be fixed to my bodice. On either side of the buttons was the most extravagant gold embroidery, all hand stitched and meticulously mirrored on either side. Among the swirling patterns of vines and leaves were many symbols for fertility, good fortune, and piety; all were worked along with the grucifix and crest of the Emeritus family that were sewn by hand into the silk.

The overdress, which was open like a robe, was part skirt and part bodice. It took all four of the Sisters to help me into this outfit. The open skirt was put into place first by hook and eye closures at my cinched waist, then the bodice was slipped over my arms and I watched as the four women worked together to settle the heavy velvet fabric of the overskirt and attach the strip of buttons up the front closure. The bodice had a low neckline, sweeping across my bust, and settled right on the very edge of my shoulders; the edge just barely visible was a soft ruffle of lace. It also had long open, hanging sleeves that reminded me of the style that elves wore in fantasy movies.

Mimicking the design of the two skirts, the bodice was split with a white section down the middle to match the underskirt, with both the gold embroidery and strip of buttons. The red section copied the look of the overskirt with gold piping along the faux edge and even more of the intricate embroidery. The red velvet overdress had a long sweeping train, and all along the edges of the skirts were more golden stitches. In the center of the train was my own personal monogram seal that came with my ascension. Completely absorbed in taking in my reflection, a hand gently settling on my bare shoulder startled me.

“We leave in five minutes, Your Eminence,” one of the Sisters spoke softly behind me as I stood, completely absorbed and overwhelmed by how I was dressed.

“Y-Yes, thank you Sister,” I stuttered, looking back at my make-up as the other Siblings gathered to help put on the final layers of veils before our departure.

They had kept my hair mostly simple due to the coming veils and headdresses, a low and windswept bun at the nape of my neck, but my makeup was what stood out the most. My skin was dewy, my lips soft and pink. It was my eyes that had been done up dramatically. The Sisters had made my eyes look both bright and sultry with rouge eyeshadow; trailing from my eyes and down my cheeks were droplets of golden ichor, several large teardrops hanging in suspension on my cheeks. Leaning in slightly to check my reflection I smiled softly as I could see Swiss in the reflection of the mirror, leaning against the wall casually.

“You’ll be fine, Sunshine,” he chuckled, winking through the silver of his mask. I gave him a slight nod and couldn’t help the heavy sigh that slipped from my lips.

“I know, I know,” I laughed as I turned to him, the soft sound of layers of satin and velvet swishing as I turned back and forth towards him. “What do you think? I clean up nice, right?”

“You look like a princess.” He chuckled, he was also dressed in full finery. “A Princess of surprisingly not Italian origin, considering where we are…”

“They tried to get me to wear another antique dress from the renaissance and I fought with Sister Imperator until we agreed on a reproduction gown. I much prefer the grandeur of the Romanovs myself…” I rolled my eyes but smiled at Swiss as the Sisters came back in with Imperator right behind them.

“Time for the finishing touches, Sister,” Imperator smiled brightly, gesturing to the veils waiting for me on the bed. “Sister Maja will carry the final veil, as that will be put in place during your ritual. Sister Ester will carry the headdress, and Sister Lenora will carry your final dress. Everything else we’ll need to place now.”

The first veil was a white lace that came to just barely brush against my bare upper arms, the thin gossamer material light enough to flutter as the Sisters milled about me while they pinned it in place. The second one was slightly shorter and was made in the same style but in gold threads. Both were pinned to just barely dust against my forehead and over that was the heaviest of the items I was expected to wear. Draped over my head slowly, as to not pull the light lace veils out of place, was a heavy veil made of royal blue silk.

The edge was scalloped and piped with gold along with the same matching golden embroidery everything else I was wearing was covered in. The hem stopped just shy of dusting the floor and flowed outward with the skirts of my dress. It was enormous and I already felt weighed down by both the veil and the heavy velvet dress, however the final step was to add a gold, diamond encrusted diadem in the style of a saintly halo to hold everything in place.

Imperator clapped, gaining everyone's attention from fawning over my dress before we followed each other out of the room. “Alright, we're going to be cutting it close. Let’s go ladies.”

I couldn’t help but find it wasteful to go through all this effort for things that would be removed in the end. It was part of the ceremony of this transformation, of leaving my secular world behind in a haze of incense and ritual for my mortal form to ascend to another higher being.

Or at least that was what Secondo said the ritual was about.

As Swiss took my arm, guiding me out of the Papal suites and down dusky hallways towards the massive Monastery chapel, I felt my anxiety really creep up. The hallways were almost completely empty, most people having already made their way inside the space as we lined up and waited for our cue to enter. I could hear the sound of the organ playing and my palms began to sweat.

“Sunshine…?” Swiss whispered to me, concern obvious in his voice. “Do you need me to help you make a break for it? I think I can carry you even with the forty pounds of fabric you’re wearing.”

“No, I’m okay,” I laughed. “I can do this.” I smiled warmly, though I know I didn’t reach my eyes. “I can, right?”

“You are our Prime Mover, Lucifer sent you himself to not only shepard us but to become the Mama to our Papa and the Cardinal. If there is anyone who could do it, it would be you.”

“Thank you, Swiss.”

Without another word, the large wooden doors opened and the procession started. I watched as the Sisters headed towards the altar, the chapel already full and people standing against the walls to get even just a glimpse of this momentous moment in my own life, let alone theirs. Vaguely I registered music and a chorus singing, but I was too busy looking at the altar to notice even the fine decoration adorning the space. Swiss was the only thing keeping me grounded as we made our way slowly to the altar, and I took in the sight of Terzo and Copia in their finery.

Terzo was dressed in his purple lined chasuble, however over that was a long black cape, clipped with gold chains over his heart, with purple accents and gold embroidery. He also wore a stole, draped around his neck and adorned with the same golden filigree motif as my own dress. The skirts of the cape trailed behind him slightly as he walked up to the altar, his arms raised and his head bowed in my direction, a small smirk barely contained. On his head he wore his normal Papal mitre, long black strips trailing down his back, and black leather gloves with golden nail tips. Terzo’s Papal paints were done so sharply I know it had taken him twice as long as normal. When he winked at me I bit my bottom lip and let my eyes drift away from him to the other man with him.

Copia was standing slightly to the side, but he looked no less spectacular than Terzo. The Cardinal was wearing his choir dress, the highest of formal robes in our organization, in his signature deep red color. However, instead of the stiff wool cassocks I was so used to seeing him in, he was wearing one made of the finest silk. He too had a small train coming from the floor length silk cassock, over which he wore a white alb with a wide lace trim. A red capelet was worn over that, the hem just barely dusting against the crook of his elbows as his hands were pressed together with a grucifix dangling between them.

Instead of his biretta, he wore a red galero. It was a wide brimmed hat with tassels hanging down from either side. His makeup was done as always, not a spot smudged or line wobbled, he looked ethereal and almost otherworldly in the shadow of his enormous brim. I felt myself drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, like a sinner to the darkness. But when I thought I had been transfixed beyond anything, he met my eyes and I watched him swallow hard, stumbling slightly over the prayer he was whispering like a secret.

I felt my heart in my throat knowing that this moment was what we three had been waiting for. I smiled at both of them, unable to hold back my joy any longer, as Swiss helped me up the stairs of the first level of the altar in my heavy dress. I held his arm as I settled to kneel on the pillow waiting for me on the floor, looking up at Terzo who was staring at me like I was the only woman in the entire world. His eyes were filled with a swirling of so many emotions it made me dizzy; my heart thrumming away in my chest as I held my hands together tightly in prayer with the grucifix dangling between my fingers. This was to be the longest of the rituals by far, at least till the binding ritual the next day, and a part of me was worried about kneeling for as long as I had to.

“Welcome, my flock, to this momentous occasion,” Terzo’s voice boomed out over the chapel, and suddenly the space was so quiet I could hear my heavy anxious breathing. It hadn’t even dawn on me when the music and choir had stopped. “It is today of all feast days that we are gathered to watch one of our own rise above to a higher calling.”

He moved from behind the altar as he spoke, coming to stand directly in front of me on the next altar level. He reached out and I felt his hand cup my cheek. I let him tilt my head up to look right at him. Terzo was backlit by the setting sunlight filtering in from the stained glass windows. He looked like sin itself, a wry smirk on his face as I gasped slightly and felt my cheeks flush at the heat in his eyes.

“Sorella has been chosen, she has been sent by Lucifero himself, to ascend. She is to become il Primo Motore, the Prime Mover. No higher honor is offered to another than to become the paramour of an Emeritus, to continue our flock in our celebration and dedication to follow the teachings of our Dark Savior.”

Terzo’s voice was hypnotic, his mismatched eyes were locked with mine, curiously drawing me in like a frantic cry of pleasure in the dead of night. His hand on my cheek was warm even through the leather of the gloves, and when he pulled away I had to fight my instinct to follow his touch with a barely audible whimper.

“But this is not just about Sorella becoming the vessel for the seeds of the next Papa, no? This rituale to bind the followers of Papa to his most arduous and steadfast confidante. For who would Papa be without he beloved, hm?” Terzo’s eyes were so filled with heat and, dare I say, love that my face felt like it was engulfed in flames. I was panting faintly, attempting not to squirm as he refused to look away from me as he spoke.

“Join me in the first of our readings, si?”

As Terzo spoke, reading a passage from our dark texts, I continued with my eyes downcast as I was supposed to be showcasing my piety and service to Lucifer. I mumbled the Dark Lord’s Prayer under my breath, my eyes trying to focus on my trembling hands as we made slow progression towards the next part of the ritual that I’d be expected to participate in. As Terzo’s reading came to a close he came to stand in front of me again, hand resting gently on top of my veiled head.

“You are doing wonderfully, amore,” he whispered as the chapel was let into song by the choir, a slow sultry song of thanks for blessing our flock with a Prime Mover to guide and shepard the Siblings as a mother figure. “Cardinale and I are so proud of you…”

“Thanks, Terzo,” I whispered back, biting my bottom lip and trying to not crack a smile.

“Benedici questa Sorella, portala nel tuo amorevole abbraccio e mostrale la via delle tenebre…” Bless this Sorella, bring her into your loving embrace and show her the way of the darkness… Terzo called out, his own head bent in prayer. It felt silly to ask for protection from Lucifer all things considered over the last few weeks. “Consentile di seguire le orme di Lilith, lascia che diventi tutt'uno con il peccato originale e si elevi per essere degna della tua devozione.” Allow her to follow in Lilith's footsteps, let her become one with original sin and rise to be worthy of your devotion.

I could see Copia out of the corner of my eye, as he moved to bring over the next steps of the ritual for Terzo. He was carrying a chalice, filled with a deep red wine, and a plate with the unholy sacrament. Copia’s eyes locked on mine and he smiled softly, winking when Terzo turned to take the plate from him.

Ti amo, he mouthed and I smiled up at him before mouthing the words back to him. When Terzo spoke, my attention was drawn back to him, looking up with a warmth in my chest I felt I hadn’t felt in weeks.

“I offer this body and blood, the symbols of our Unholy Father, to you Sorella. Will you partake?”

“I shall, willingly,” I responded, opening my mouth and sliding my tongue out slightly, my hands still pressed together and clutching the grucifix between them.

I could see the way the position and image had already started to affect Terzo, who had to clear his throat as he pressed the wafer to my tongue slightly more aggressively than necessary. After looking up at him through my lashes, I felt him hold the goblet to my mouth and tilted the wine into my parted lips. My mind instantly flooded back to the time that Terzo spit the wine in my mouth and I had to fight to keep myself from squirming; though I was sure his smirking face was because he noticed the blush on my cheeks.

Terzo moved away from me then, placing both the plate and chalice back on the altar as I stayed kneeling. Copia stood just to the side, repeating a hymn under his breath as he watched me before remembering that he too had a part to play in this. Jumping slightly as Terzo cleared his throat, he shuffled forward and grabbed the small plate of apple slices. He walked up to me, heat in his eyes clear as he looked down at me. With his free hand Copia mirrored Terzo’s earlier move and reached out to cup my cheek. I couldn’t help but nuzzle against him as well, a content look on my face. Copia smiled before he cleared his throat before speaking.

“Like the first Prime Mover many generations ago, I offer you this apple as a symbol of man’s original fall from grace. Will you accept this knowledge, Sorella?” he asked, voice smooth and sultry as he subtly ran the pad of his leather gloved thumb against my bottom lip. It took me a minute to register that I needed to respond to him.

“I shall, hungrily,” I spoke, voice thick with desire as I watched Copia pick up a slice and press the tip against my lips. His eyes practically begging for entrance as I let him slip the slice between my parted lips.

His eyes were locked on my mouth as I chewed the offered slice and looked up with large, doe-like eyes before he bowed his head to me and took a few steps back. Terzo was there again, as he was to lead the ritual, and smiled at us both.

“Who offers this woman up to her fall from the pinnacle?” he asked. We all knew I had no family in the church to speak of, so we went with the next logical answer. Swiss took the steps up to his spot next to me quickly and I could see him from the corner of my eye.

“I shall offer the lamb to the wolf,” Swiss replied, bowing down to one knee. “Let her serve the Dark One’s will, from the pinnacle to the pit.”

“From the pinnacle to the pit,” was the response from the congregation behind me and I couldn’t help but blush slightly.

“Then you must help this woman shed her earthly confines in favor of her robes fit for her station.”

That was the cue. Suddenly the Sisters from earlier in the day were there and helping me to my feet, Swiss holding out his hand to help me as I stood. What I didn’t know until this moment, I’m sure something Imperator left out conveniently, was that I was not to be moved to the back alcove to change and emerge like a broadway quick-change. No. I was to be stripped where I was standing and it didn’t occur to me till I saw the Siblings bringing over my dress.

“Tricky bitch…” I mumbled as Swiss fought to hold back the laughter I heard him struggling with under his mask as the ritual mass carried on around us.

Both Terzo and, surprisingly, Copia were leading the congregation in a lovely angelic hymn. I could hear Terzo’s voice, clear as a bell, but it was Copia that shocked me enough to make me pause. I hadn’t heard him sing like this before, at least not loud enough to really notice how beautiful his voice was. I felt Swiss tug on the diadem on my head to get my attention and I focused back on the task at hand.

The Sisters helped take off the diadem and veils, and had begun to unbutton the heavy velvet of the bodice before I had even taken a breath. Before I knew it I was standing in nothing but the thin linen chemise that had been my base layer, even the corset was gone. As the hymn came to a close, Terzo began to speak again.

“Lucifer, we beseech you. Protect this woman, your vessel on this plane, as she prepares to ascend to a higher cause.”

The linen material was pulled over my head and I was momentarily nude before the Sisters began to dress me in my official formal Prime Mover robes. I had helped design the garment myself, and after finally seeing them put together I realized that, subconsciously, I had designed the same thing I’d worn in my shared dream with Copia. The black, high neckline and skin tight dress fit like a glove. Even the golden cutout where the grucifix sat over my cleavage was included.

Next was my belt, embroidered with Prime Mover and my seal at the bottom. Much like the previous dress I had on, there was more gold embroidery along the hem and in the center of the small train was the grucifix again. All of the embroidery was accented by shining and shimmering beads and stonework. Quickly black leather gloves were slipped onto my hands, they had golden nails on the fingertips as a nod to Terzo’s own pair. After the dress was finished being buttoned up the back, Swiss helped me kneel again before moving to stand a few steps below me.

“Almighty below, I bestow this woman with my life blood as she will bring forth the blood of my blood; thus the continuation of the line of Emeritus begins anew.” Terzo’s voice was clear, echoing in the marble walls of the abbey as he raised his hand high and sliced his palm.

I watched while mumbling along with the prayers around me, transfixed as he let several drops of blood into the open clay pot of black grease paints sitting on the altar. Speaking in Italian, Terzo offered prayers to Lucifer as he mixed the blood with the cream.

“Tuere eam, dux eius, eam fortis.” Protect her, guide her, make her strong.

”Pro hoc offero sanguinem meum in sacrificium.” For this I offer my blood as a sacrifice.

Terzo came to stand in front of me again, holding the pot of grease paints in on hand and a brush in the other. Copia came over and took the pot from him and nodded solemnly at him as Terzo cupped my chin and tilted my head in the direction he needed.

“Trust me, Amore?” He asked, a devilish smile on his face and I couldn’t help but smile right back at him.

“Always.”

“Then close your eyes, eh?”

I held back my laughter, closing my eyes and attempting to keep very still as Terzo began to chant in Latin again. I felt the brush, with paints slightly cool, sliding across my skin as Terzo worked quickly and smoothly. His hands had memorized this after so many years, though he was only working with black for the purpose of this ritual.

After a few minutes, he pulled away and I peaked an eye open to see him holding out a mirror for me.

“What do you think, hm?” He whispered, suddenly looking shy. “Cardinale and I worked together to come up with the design.”

My cheekbones had been hollowed out with the paints, much like Terzo’s paints though my edges had been brought to my hair line. My eyes had been hollowed out, making my eyes shine brightly, between the black spots. My upper lip had been painted much like Copia and there was two small swipes made to the bridge of my nose as well. I looked up at Terzo, suddenly my throat was thick and full of emotion as he smiled brightly.

“Let these paints be a sign to all who see you, Sorella, that you are now and forever more a part of the Emeritus clan.”

“Hallowed be thy name.” was the response from the crowd behind me.

“Does the clergy sanction this ascension?” Terzo turned to ask Copia and I had to hold back a gasp at the intense look in Copia’s eyes as he kept his gaze locked on mine.

“We, the Clergy, are in full support of this decision.”

The sisters who’d helped me the last week, bathed and dressed me like I was their own, and finally had carried down my veil and headdress were now standing with Copia and Terzo. They both had their heads bowed in my direction as they handed the items to both of them in perfect sync. Copia took hold of the veil I’d be expected to wear for semi-formal and above events, with the exception of any events taking place around ‘worldly’ folks.

It was a long circular shape, though it did have quite a long train. It was made with black fine netting and all along the edge was more matching golden lace. The veil was a drop-veil style, cathedral length and settled far past the train for the dress. The Sisters helped bring the veil up behind me as it settled neatly against my dress and the floor. Copia slowly flicked and fluttered the gossamer fabric over my head, the front covered my face entirely and draped down to my elbows.

Copia placed his hand on top of my head, causing me to look down at his feet and my slightly trembling hands. He spoke softly under his breath, but I could still hear him.

“Lucifero, grazie per aver portato questa donna nelle nostre vite. Non so dove sarei senza di lei.” Lucifer, thank you for bringing this woman into our lives. I don't know where I would be without her. I could hear the heavy emotion in Copia’s voice, causing tears to threaten to ruin my makeup.

Before I could do anything to bring him comfort, the weight of Copia’s hand was gone and I looked up only to see him take a few steps back and allow Terzo to step in front of me. In his hands he held the symbol of my station. My halo style crown, it looked more like a piece of saintly artwork than a crown. Made of a large golden circle; it was made to look like I had a saint’s halo, like all the paintings and frescoes all over the monastery halls, and was covered in filagree and gemstones. I felt like my neck was going to get a cramp just from the short time I would have this on my head.

Terzo perched the heavy diedem on the crown of my head, the sisters with him working quickly to pin it to my head in four places to make sure I’d be able to move and not knock it loose. As he placed it, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead. I looked at him with a curious expression but he just smiled warmly and cupped my cheeks through the veil.

“You have done so, so well, Tesoro…” He whispered and I fought the giggle that wanted to spill from my lips.

“Thank you.” I smiled and I watched as he winked at me before begrudgingly pulling away.

Terzo took a few steps back and threw his arms wide.

“Rise, Prime Mover.” He called out, only the sound of the organ accompanying him. “Rise and gaze upon your flock.”

Both Terzo and Copia offered me a hand, graciously I took them as I stood up and turned to look at the large chapel behind us. I felt my heart hammering in my chest as I took in the sight around me. Everyone in the chapel, including the Emeritus family and the ghouls, was kneeling before me. A thrill at the idea of power, of the control I was given in this position, slithered up my spine. Deep down, I knew I would never ever abuse my powers I’d been given but the idea that all of these people would do as I said or even commanded made me momentarily drunk with power.

I turned back around to peek at my boys and I gasped quietly. Both were kneeling, their heads bowed, as they spoke the final prayers in latin. When they looked back up with me, practically synchronized in their movements, I was momentarily shocked at the heat and lust in their eyes.

Terzo was the first to stand, offering Copia a hand to join him. When they were both standing again Terzo stepped forward and took my hand, having me turn again to face the crowd.

“All hail Prime Mover Elizabeth Lucia Emeritus, the First of her name.”

I will never forget for as long as I live the sound of the thunderous applause and resounding ‘Long may she reign.’

#ghost #the band ghost #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #copia x reader #copia x reader x terzo #cardinal copia #papa emeritus lll #papa terzo #sinners in secret chapters #my writing

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coraliix · 2 months

Text

North Wind | Lloyd x OC

Chapter 7: Collision pt.1

13.2k words (split in two posts)

Summary: Mari and Lloyd spend the day together. Tension snaps and confrontation occurs.

A/N: Jeez louise y'all. I did not expect this chapter to take so long nor the sheer size of it, but here we are.

Fun fact: chapters of this length cannot physically fit on a post (at least how I'm posting), hence why it's split in two.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

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“Checking your phone every five seconds won’t make them get here faster, Mari.”

I looked up from my screen, where I had indeed been checking for any new messages from Lloyd. “I know that,” I scoffed at Skylor’s words. “I’m just making sure they get here alright.”

Skylor’s lips curled up in an amused grin as she continued closing the restaurant and got ready to head out. “They’ve come here a lot, you know. They’ll be okay.”

“I know that too,” I replied, an exasperated but affectionate smile gracing my features. Taking a seat at a table, I waited for Lloyd and his friends to arrive, leg bouncing rapidly.

She took note of that; I could tell. “You seem nervous to meet with them,” Skylor remarked, amusement filling her voice. “Or are these nerves directed more to a specific person?” she asked. Her eyebrows waggled suggestively, and I snorted at the sight — and at what she was implying.

“Definitely not in the way you're insinuating,” I quipped, feeling a slightly embarrassed flush rise on my face.

That did not help with deterring Skylor from thinking what she currently was, but that was fine. I didn’t care too much about explaining.

Truthfully, there was some merit to her idea, but it was simply that I found Lloyd attractive. I wasn’t necessarily attracted to him. Underneath the affection I held for Lloyd was a sense of understanding for his situation. It felt more like I related to him and empathized with him than held particularly romantic feelings.

(At least, that was what I told myself. To be completely honest, there was some attraction, but definitely not enough for me to act on and risk jeopardizing our friendship.)

There would be time later to reflect on those feelings. Probably.

Silence filled the restaurant’s calm atmosphere as I dwelled on these thoughts. Skylor didn't say anything to break it, and I thought back to a few days ago, when she had started asking me about the ninja. Her words about being honest and opening up echoed in my head.

“Oh, here they come,” Skylor said after a minute. We walked to the doors, stepping out and locking them behind us. “Hey guys,” she greeted, tucking her keys into the pocket of her coat.

They greeted the rest of us as well. Lloyd, sporting a ball cap under his green hood and a face mask, sidled up next to me and leant in to whisper, “Hi.”

My eyes dropped to his incognito attire, sadness flickering in them as I realized what their purpose was. “Hey,” I whispered back, unsure why we were being quiet but following his lead. Tracking Lloyd’s eyes back to Kai and Skylor, I soon understood why.

“Hello, handsome,” she said as she stepped closer to Kai and laced their hands together.

“Hey, beautiful,” he replied, eyes softening in a strange sight. Strange to me, at least. I’d only been around Kai once — certainly not enough for me to judge his character — but this soft side of him was starkly different from the sharp, defensive side of him I’d seen weeks ago that it gave me whiplash.

Everyone else rolled their eyes at the sweet exchange, but it was all in good humor.

“Ready to go?” Kai asked her, shivering slightly when a chilly gust of air swept through the streets.

“Mhm,” was Skylor’s answer. She turned to me, fixing me with a look that communicated the instructions she’d given me before we left. Behave. Be back home by midnight. Have someone drop you off. “Have fun,” was what she said out loud.

I gave her a smile and a nod in reply.

Satisfied, she hooked her arm through Kai’s, starting to turn away. “Have fun, you guys,” she repeated to everyone else. With that, Skylor and Kai headed off to who knows where for their date.

Everyone else turned away to quickly discuss the plan, but my eyes remained on the couple’s backs as they walked away.

Learning that Skylor had been dating Kai could have easily been one of my top ten most shocking moments — I’d almost thought she was joking when she’d casually mentioned it to me. But seeing their interactions made me realize that they really did fit well together.

“Everybody ready to go?” Jay rubbed his hands in excitement, clearly eager to head to the arcade the group had picked as the activity today.

Beside Jay, Cole shuffled closer to nudge him with an elbow. He gave Jay a pointed look.

“Oh!” Jay exclaimed, eyes widening in realization. He turned to me. “I forgot— I never really introduced myself. I’m Jay,” he said, offering me a wide smile.

I chuckled softly. “I figured. Nice to meet you, Jay,” I replied, returning his smile. “I guess I don’t have to introduce myself.” I sent Lloyd a grin, and he looked away with a bashful smile, scratching the back of his neck.

Jay laughed, glancing over at Lloyd with a smile full of mirth. “Nope. Lloyd’s definitely been talking about you enough to— Hey, ow!” His teasing was cut off by another elbow to his side; the offense came from Nya this time.

The action had me sending her a surprised look, eyebrows raising. No qualms about teasing Lloyd herself but stopping Jay from doing so?

Nya glanced at me, meeting my curious stare and seeming to read my thoughts. “It’s different when I do it,” she explained to me, to the confusion of everyone else.

A snort escaped me at the words, but I nodded. Part of the sibling experience — teasing them relentlessly but stepping in when others did it too.

It reminded me of Hideo and how sometimes I’d tease him about him having crushes or other unimportant things. The corners of my lips pulled down in a small frown.

Somehow Lloyd noticed this, and he lightly bumped his shoulder against mine. “You okay?” he asked in a hushed tone, brow knit with concern — though it was barely visible from under his cap. “Is being around all of us too overwhelming? I know you said you weren’t used to large groups. Do you want to go somewhere else?”

I glanced up at Lloyd. His concern warmed me. A small smile made its way onto my lips, and I shook my head. “No, it’s not that,” I reassured him. “Just remembering someone.”

He frowned at my vague answer, confusion seeping into his eyes. “Alright.”

“Are you guys ready to go?” Nya called over to us, linking her hand with Jay’s and stepping closer to him.

I blinked at the sight. “Uh, yeah,” I said. “I’m ready.” They nodded and led the way down the sidewalk to the arcade nearby. Turning back to Lloyd, who now walked beside me, I leaned in closer, lowering my voice. “Are Nya and Jay dating?”

Lloyd glanced at me when I leaned in closer, and he chuckled at my question before nodding. “Yep. For around two and a half years now,” he told me, matching my low volume.

“Aw, that’s nice. They look good together.” I glanced at them as they walked ahead of us, smiling at their joined hands. Lloyd nodded in agreement.

“So, have you been to this arcade before?” he asked after a minute of silence — between us, that is. The rest of the group chattered about anything and everything, though I hadn’t really been paying attention.

I shook my head. “Haven’t really explored the city at all, to be honest,” I admitted.

Lloyd gave a small gasp in faux indignation. “We can’t have that,” he said, putting on an affronted expression and placing a hand on his heart. “This must be remedied.”

I snorted at the posh tone he put on. “And how do you propose I do that?”

He shrugged casually. “By hanging out with me.”

His answer made me blink. My lips curved into a wide, amused smile. “Oh, really? You know all the good spots in Ninjago City?”

“The best spots,” he nodded solemnly.

Laughter bubbled from my lips at the sudden serious expression he put on. “Alright, I think I can clear my schedule for that,” I said. He smiled, looking at me through the corner of his eye.

——————————

Crossing the street, I saw the arcade just ahead of us. We entered the building and the dim lighting immediately washed us in electric blues and greens. There were a variety of games to play: driving simulators, shooting games, air hockey, wheels of fortune — you name it.

“Meet back up in an hour?” Zane suggested.

Everyone agreed, and soon we all went our separate ways. Lloyd stayed with me, which I was grateful for. We made our way to the counter to pay for card passes before strolling around the edge of the arcade, exploring the options.

“Any preference?” Lloyd asked beside me once we each got our own passes.

I surveyed the games available, spotting a flashy electronic dart board on one of the back walls. “I think I’ll take a crack at these,” I mused with a grin, striding over to confidently pick up a couple darts, weighing them in my hands.

“Darts.” Lloyd raised an eyebrow in question.

My grin turned roguish as my fingers felt around the small projectiles. Of course, they weren’t actually sharp — this was an arcade, after all, and there were kids around — but they felt hefty enough to be properly thrown.

“Just an old hobby of mine,” I replied. Another vague answer.

Maybe Lloyd would think I was weird by being so cryptic, but I couldn’t tell him the real reason why I wanted to start my game off strong by choosing darts. Maybe it was unfair to be playing a game I had an advantage in from illegal practices. Maybe.

Positioning myself just shy of the line, I steadied my stance and lifted my hand. The dart flew from my fingers as I whipped my arm down in a fluid arc.

It found its target. “Bullseye,” I declared with a grin, grabbing another dart. Sure enough, my next two throws were solid as well, soaring through the air and hitting the board with a thunk. A strip of tickets came out of the machine. I leaned down to pluck them out, proudly waving my reward to Lloyd.

His green eyes lit with amusement and slight surprise. “Impressive,” he remarked. “But you’re gonna have to do more than throw a few darts to beat me.”

I laughed. “I wasn’t aware this was a competition. But don’t worry about me,” I assured. “I’ve got more than one trick up my sleeve.”

“Hm,” Lloyd hummed, not looking worried.

We walked over to a racing game and swiped our passes over the machine, sliding into the seats.

“Interesting choice,” I commented casually.

Lloyd shrugged. “I like driving. Speaking of,” he said as the game started up. “I heard from Nya that you’ve driven a motorcycle before. What’s that about?”

“I could ask you the same,” I pointed out, setting my hands on the wheel and starting to steer my simulated racer down the track while I pressed a foot down on the pedal.

He laughed, shaking his head. “That’s fair. I learned when I was around 16, I think,” he told me, glimpsing at me through the side of his eye before returning his gaze back to the screen. “It was easier to get a motorcycle than a car.”

I gave him a perplexed look at that. Although that was the same as in my case, it was still unusual to hear about someone getting a motorcycle before a car. “I learned when I was 15,” I replied. “But I didn’t really start driving out in public until I was 16, too. License and all that,” I explained, turning the wheel sharply to the left.

Lloyd hummed in acknowledgement, making the turn with ease. “I guess we both grew up a bit different than most,” he said. “Teenagers don’t typically— dude, what!” he suddenly interjected. “How did you get ahead of me?”

A laugh burst from my lips and I peeked at him through the corner of my eye. “Guess you’re not— wait, how—” I cut myself off, gaping at the game.

The screens displayed a checkerboard finish line, reading ‘Winner! Player 1.’ On my screen, I was shown as placing second. Lloyd had somehow pulled ahead of me at the last second.

“What was that you were about to say?” Lloyd asked coyly, eyes gleaming with victory. If his mask wasn’t on, I would definitely see the smug grin he wore.

I rolled my eyes, but smiled. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Good game,” I said with a huff.

He chuckled to himself, grabbing the tickets that appeared on his side of the ticket machine. One lone ticket came out of the machine on my side.

“Wow,” I laughed, head tilting back as giggles slipped from my lips. “One ticket! That is actually so hilarious.” I couldn’t stop laughing at the sight, the singular ticket compared to the 20 Lloyd received filling me with such bizarre amusement.

“A pity ticket,” Lloyd agreed solemnly with a nod. “What a shame.”

His serious expression did not help my laughter calm down. My stomach hurt from how hard I was laughing — it was strange. It wasn’t even that funny, yet I felt myself loosening up and relaxing.

Lloyd joined in my laughter after a second, eyes sparkling entertainingly. “Come on, second place,” he said after another minute, earning another chuckle from me, and rose from his seat. “Your pick this time.”

The laughter died down on my lips as I stood up. Deciding to just leave the ticket, I joined Lloyd at his side, scanning over other games we could play.

After another three rounds of me choosing a game followed by one of Lloyd’s picks — somehow, we were almost neck and neck with our amount of tickets, but Lloyd had slightly more — we spotted Cole and Zane at a boxing game and decided to join them.

“I hardly count this as fair,” Zane was saying to Cole as we got closer.

Cole shook his head, grabbing his tickets from the machine. “No way, man. I’m not even using my full strength right now. This thing would break if I did,” he teased, patting Zane — who didn't look pleased but conceded — on the back.

He looked like he was about to say more, but stopped when he saw us approaching. “Hey guys,” he said instead, smiling. “Having fun? Not beating Lloyd too hard at the games, are you?” he joked, aiming that last part at me.

“Ha-ha,” Lloyd deadpanned. “I’m actually in the lead with tickets right now.”

“Right now,” I repeated, sending him a side-eye glance. “We’re having fun, though.” Lloyd met my eye then, and smiled.

Cole nodded. “I’m totally beating Zane, too.”

“By a slim margin,” Zane corrected, raising his eyebrow. “And only because you’ve picked games that play into your skillset.”

Cole’s head tilted. “Isn’t that the whole point of this?”

A soft laugh left me at the exchange. “He’s not wrong. I’m doing the same,” I agreed with Cole. “Yet somehow, Lloyd is still beating me,” I huffed in faux annoyance.

“I’m just using the same strategy,” Lloyd shrugged, amusement playing on his features.

A round of laughs went around the group.

Taking a look at the clock on the wall, Cole nodded to the boxing game. “You guys gonna take a shot? Our passes are almost up, so you better hurry,” he said, stepping aside to make room if either of us wanted to play.

Lloyd glanced at me. I tapped a finger on my chin in thought. “I’ll have a go,” I replied, handing Lloyd the loops of tickets I’d amassed.

Scanning the pass on the machine, I waited for it to light up before taking a stance. A part of me was hesitant to take a punch. I didn't want to reveal my strength and raise any questions, but…

Oh, screw it. If I was being honest, I wanted to show off. Years of intense conditioning and training hadn’t made me weak, and if playing meant I’d beat that smug boy wearing green, I’d do it.

My fist cracked into the small speed bag. The screen displayed a number, which increased as I threw a few more blows onto the punching bag. The score racked up until the timer ran out, and I stepped back.

Although I didn't beat the previous high score — I imagined that one was Cole’s; it was too high for a buff guy like him to not have gotten it — I was pleased with my score. My lips curved into a small, proud smile.

“Not bad, kid,” Cole appraised the score. “You work out?”

“Something like that,” I answered, reaching over to get the tickets I earned. Another vague answer. I had to stop doing that.

Lloyd chuckled. “Full of surprises, aren't you?” he teased, crossing his arms. I sent him a playful wink.

“Are you gonna try, Lloyd?” I asked him as he handed over the rest of my tickets. “Because if we stop now, I’ll have beat you.” My lips spread in a smirk at the challenge, daring him to try.

He scoffed, crossing his arms again. “I don't want to show you up,” Lloyd taunted.

“Oh, really? You think you’ll do better than me? How about we make a bet?” I suggested. “If you get a higher score than me, I’ll give you half my tickets. But I bet you can’t,” I challenged, tucking my tickets into the crook of my arm as I crossed my arms.

Lloyd laughed. “You don't want to make that bet,” he promised. “Back me up here, guys.” He turned to Zane and Cole for backup.

“I don't know if you have what it takes, Lloyd,” Zane murmured, giving him a skeptical look. Cole snickered beside him.

“What? C’mon, guys,” Lloyd huffed.

My lips parted in a wide smile. “See? Not even they think you can beat me,” I teased. Zane and Cole chuckled, shaking their heads. “I’m just too strong.” I placed a hand atop my heart playfully.

Lloyd scoffed. “Watch this,” he announced, handing me his tickets and stepping up to the boxing game. The screen lit up as soon as he swiped his card over the scanner. Placing his foot slightly behind the other in a boxing stance, he swung a fist toward the bag.

The smirk dropped from my face, lips parting in surprise.

His fists pounded onto the speed bag. A right hook, left, uppercut — his hands moved almost too fast to perceive.

“Uh oh,” I laughed weakly as the scores on each of his hits added up for a total score surpassing mine.

The timer finished with a beep, and Lloyd stepped back from the machine, glimpsing at his score before his mouth curled into a smirk. He glanced at me, smirk growing when he saw the blatant shock on my face. I snapped my mouth shut.

“Looks like I owe you half of my tickets,” I managed to say after a second.

He laughed, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Keep them. Seeing that look on your face was all the reward I could want,” he teased, gently peeling his tickets away from my frozen hands. “I’ll see you at the ticket counter,” he said with a wink, walking away smugly.

Zane and Cole chuckled as he walked away, and I shot them an affronted glare. “You knew, didn’t you?” I accused them.

“I didn’t know he’d try that hard,” Cole defended with a laugh, lifting his hands in a placating gesture.

Zane nodded. “I didn’t anticipate it, either. I thought he’d go easy on you and let you win the bet,” he agreed.

My brows furrowed. “What? Why?”

The two shared a look.

“No reason,” Cole replied.

I squinted at them. I knew he was lying and that they knew something, but decided to drop it. It probably wasn’t too important.

“Alright,” I said, making sure I sent them a look that communicated they weren’t fooling me. A glance at the clock on the wall revealed that we had about a minute left of our passes. “We should probably group back up with the others,” I suggested, already starting to trail after Lloyd.

They followed behind me as I weaved through people, until I spotted Nya and Jay standing at the prize counter. I stepped up to them, feeling like I had forgotten something. Hm.

“Hey guys,” I greeted them. “Did you two have fun?”

Nya turned around to face me, a relaxed smile on her face. “Yeah! This was pretty chill. I’m glad you came with us, Mari.”

My lips curved into a smile. “Thanks, Nya. Me too. Cashing in on your prizes?” I asked curiously, glancing to where Jay was surveying the reward options.

She nodded, looking back at Jay to see him pick out a few pieces of candy and what looked to be a stuffed pickle. “For you, my favorite sea pickle,” he offered it to her, holding it up like it was the most precious thing in the world. It very well could’ve been, judging by the reverent expression on his face.

Nya burst into laughter, using a hand to cover her smile. “Aw, thank you, Jay,” she said, accepting it and giving it a hug.

My smile softened, heart throbbing at the two of them. They were so cute.

At that moment, someone stepped up beside me. Lloyd stood to my right, watching them with a fond smile. “They’re cute together, right?”

“The cutest. I think I’m going to faint over how cute they are.” I placed a hand over my forehead, pretending to look faint as I leaned onto Lloyd’s side.

Lloyd chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you,” he promised me, hand gently circling my upper arm.

My heart skipped a beat at his touch, and I sank further into him. “I’m not worried,” I teased with a light smile, dropping my head back onto his shoulder.

He seemed to freeze at that, and I worried I’d made him uncomfortable. But then he cleared his throat. “That’s good,” he said, glancing away.

Was I imagining it or did his face redden a bit? It was hard to tell with his mask still on.

Zane and Cole joined us shortly after. They stared at how I leaned on Lloyd, and I straightened, pulling myself away.

Nya turned away from us to watch them approach. She glanced at the small pieces of paper in their hands — receipts, I realized. Then she looked to my hands, where I was still holding rows of tickets. “Did you forget to count your tickets?” she asked, a small smile on her face.

I blinked. “Oh.” That was what I was forgetting. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll come with you,” Nya said, and trailed after me.

Striding over to where the ticket counter machine was, I started inserting the various strips of bright orange tickets. Nya stood beside me.

“So,” she started, “that was something.”

I didn’t look up at her, instead keeping my focus on entering the tickets into the machine. “What was?” I asked innocently. Maybe if I pretended I didn’t know what she was talking about, she wouldn’t bring it up again.

Nya hummed skeptically. “That little display. You know, when you practically fell into Lloyd’s arms?” she said.

Inserting the last of my tickets, I let out a snort. “I didn’t fall into his arms. It was nothing. Just… lighthearted banter.”

She hummed again.

“Seriously, Nya. It was nothing,” I repeated.

“It didn’t look like nothing to someone,” she countered slyly, examining her fingernails.

I stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” she parroted my words, giving me a cheshire grin. “Just that a certain someone seemed to be a little flustered and flushed after a certain other someone leaned on them. But maybe that could be because the first certain someone was actually feeling warm. All those layers…”

She was starting to confuse me. “Okay, Nya,” I huffed out a laugh, shaking my head. We walked back to the counter, where Lloyd was conversing with the others. It looked very hush hush.

Jay spotted us approaching and jolted upright, arms flailing as he struggled to look nonchalant. “Oh, Nya, Mari. You’re back,” he said. “We were… doing nothing… important.”

I glanced at Lloyd, silently asking what was going on. He shrugged, looking away as if to say ‘nothing.’ My eyes narrowed in confusion. “Yep,” I told Jay. “We’re back.” Striding to stand next to Lloyd again, I turned to him. “What did your total ticket count end up being?” I asked him.

He coughed, glancing at the slip of paper. “455,” was his strained answer.

I tilted my head to the side, frowning with concern. “Are you okay? You sound a little… choked up.”

Lloyd cleared his throat again, scratching at the skin below his eye. “Yeah, no, I’m fine,” he assured me, but his reply was still a little forced.

Why was everyone being weird now?

“Right. I only got 421,” I told him, rereading the ticket receipt with a wince. “I don’t understand how you’re so good at these games.”

He seemed to relax at that. “Practice,” he revealed. “Lots and lots of practice.”

I chuckled. “Did you play lots of arcade games when you were younger?” I asked, staring up at him.

“Yep. It was the way I spent most of my time,” he explained.

“Then I never stood a chance,” I said, putting on an exaggerated expression of defeat. Lloyd laughed and apologized, but I smiled at him, shaking my head. “Today was fun, though.”

“For sure,” Lloyd agreed, looking down at me with a soft smile. “I’m glad you came.”

I returned his smile. “Me too.”

“Are you going to pick out any prizes?”

I brought my attention back to the various items held on display. A silver pegasus plush toy caught my eye, and I was tempted to get it, but held back. I noticed a bright green dragon plush next to it, and decided to get it for Lloyd.

“Could I get the stuffed green dragon?” I asked the person standing behind the counter. She nodded and handed me the plush after I gave her my receipt. I extended it to Lloyd. “For you. My favorite green dragon,” I said, giving him a wink as I mimicked Jay’s words from earlier.

Lloyd’s gaze dropped down to the stuffed toy in my hands before he accepted it with a soft laugh. “Thank you,” he smiled warmly.

Sometime when I had been choosing my prize, he had taken his face mask off, so now I could clearly see the warmth in his eyes and smile — as well as the barely-there dusting of pink on his cheeks. The sight made my knees weak.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, a similar smile gracing my lips.

“You guys are still here?” Jay asked suddenly.

I whipped around to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Dude, we already left. I came back when we realized you hadn’t followed us outside.”

Pressing my lips together, I simply said, “Oh.”

“We’ll be out soon,” Lloyd told Jay, shifting the plush dragon in his arms. “I just… need to go to the bathroom.”

Jay gave him a look, but nodded. “You couldn't have gone earlier?” he mumbled under his breath as he left the arcade.

Lloyd turned back to me. “You can join the others. I’ll be right out,” he said.

“Okay.” I nodded, and made my way through the doors. It was starting to dim outside, sunlight gradually fading. The rest of the group stood a few feet outside of the arcade entrance, and I hurried to join them. “Hey,” I greeted them again.

“Sorry about that,” Cole apologized as I approached. “We didn’t realize you two were still inside.”

I waved his apology off with a hand. “It’s okay. We didn’t realize you left.”

“Where is Lloyd?” Zane questioned.

“He’s in the bathroom,” I replied, tucking my hands into my pockets. Zane nodded in acknowledgement. “Are we going anywhere after this?” I asked, making idle conversation. While talking about this hangout with Lloyd, I’d failed to ask if we were going to eat after or not.

“Probably just somewhere to eat,” Nya answered. “We were thinking some street food. Does that sound okay, Mari?”

I blinked, but nodded at her question. “Yeah, that sounds great!”

Nya smiled.

After another few moments, Lloyd came barreling out of the arcade, holding a plastic bag as he came to stand with us. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he apologized quickly, stuffing a hand in his pocket.

A chorus of accepted apologies sounded from the group.

“Are you coming to eat with us?” Lloyd turned to you, eyes lighting up in a hopeful expression.

“Yup,” I said, giving him a smile.

“Cool.” He nodded, returning my grin.

Everyone else started to lead the way to the street vendors we’d most likely head to, while me and Lloyd walked in the back.

“What’s in the bag?” I asked while the group was busy talking about something. I had a certain feeling Lloyd hadn’t brought it up while everyone was still looking at him because he didn’t want to bring everyone’s attention to it.

He glanced at me, before shuffling slightly closer, never once missing a step as we kept walking. He opened the bag to reveal the green plush I got him, as well as the silver winged horse I saw earlier. “I saw you were eying that silver pegasus earlier, so I wanted to get it for you. Y’know, since you got me that dragon toy. I didn't know whether to give it to you now or later,” he admitted, scratching at his cheek.

Warmth billowed into my face as I took in the bag that held the stuffed pegasus he got me — as well as how close he was standing. “Thank you, Lloyd.” I sent him a bright smile. “If you want, you can give it to me later, before I go back home.”

“Alright,” Lloyd said with a nod. He hooked the handles of the bag over his elbow and kept walking.

He didn't move away.

I hid my blush by keeping my eyes on the backs of the group.

Eventually, we arrived at a little plaza that held various street vendors selling all kinds of food. Some sold hot dogs, others had noodles, or sliders, falafel, tacos, etc — I surveyed the options and took my pick.

Once everyone else had their food, we found a little park bench tucked to the side of the plaza and sat down.

Lloyd sat to my right, his back facing the entrance of the square, while Nya was on my left. Jay sat across from her, with Cole next to him, and Zane was across from Lloyd.

No one really said anything, which was expected. We all focused on eating our own food.

It was a quiet moment, with everyone basking in the sun’s dimming rays, even as the fall weather beckoned a crisp wind to swirl around us. It was quiet, until it wasn’t.

“Is that Lloyd Garmadon? Look, it’s the Garmadork squad!” someone suddenly called behind us, to which others around them laughed. Everyone at the table stiffened. “Hey, who’s that with them?”

I was about to turn around to face them, but Lloyd stopped me by placing a hand on my back.

“Don’t,” he warned, glaring at them through the corner of his eye. “They’re from our school. If they recognize you, they’ll post about it online.”

“I don’t care about that,” I retorted.

“You will.” His voice was firm. He didn’t pull his hand away from my back. “Trust me.”

The corners of my lips pulled down into a frown, but when I looked to the rest of his friends to see what they thought about it, my heart dropped. Matching expressions of frustration and resignation weighing down their features.

“Seriously?” I stared. “You just take it?”

“There isn’t anything else we can do,” Jay mumbled. “At least anything that won’t prove the city right about Lloyd.”

Nya nodded, her eyes shifting in that same storminess from the first day of school, when she’d talked about how Lloyd was treated. “If we fight back or call them out, we prove everyone right. We prove that Lloyd is someone to be feared and cast out,” she said, anger making her look downright scary.

Silence followed from the rest of the group, but no such kindness was given from the other group of kids. They jeered at us, but didn’t come any closer. Lloyd’s hand tightened on my back at their insults.

The harassers saw this, and took no small amount of delight in calling it out. “Shit, that freak’s got a girlfriend,” one of them said to the others. “What kind of idiot would fall for him?”

Lloyd recoiled from me, pulling his hand away to stuff it in his pocket. Not much of his face was visible behind the golden strands of his hair, but I could still see the anger and shame burning in him at their words.

A similar pinprick of fury lit in me then, when I noticed the way Lloyd tensed beside me as they continued spewing their hurtful words.

“Look at him,” another person sneered. “He’s so ashamed. You should be! Tyrants don’t deserve to be happy!” they directed at him.

The words struck a chord in me, and I snapped.

Ignoring everyone’s shouts, I rose from my seat, pushing past Lloyd’s outstretched hand and making my way to the group of teenagers.

Look at her. Can you believe the audacity of a criminal to be out in public? She and her brother deserve to be outcasts — they’re dangerous.

Quiet fury burned in my veins, stirred hotter by the insults hurled my way as I approached.

“Damn, looks like the freak’s girlfriend is mad,” one of them snickered. As I got closer, one of the girls leaned closer to her friend to whisper, “Hey, isn’t that the new—”

All of them recoiled from me as I suddenly cracked my fist into one of the guys’ nose.

He crouched away from me, cradling his nose as blood gushed out of it. “What the hell?” he shouted, blood dribbling down his chin.

Around us, phones whipped out to record the fight, but I just shook my head in distaste. “Don’t be an asshole if you don’t want to get hit like one,” I told him, not bothering to hide the venom dripping from my voice.

The girl who’d recognized me whirled her phone toward me threateningly. “Stop! Go away!” she yelled. “You’re the new kid at Ninjago High, right? We’ll get you expelled!”

I scoffed out a dry laugh. “For what? Defending a friend from being harassed? I’m not on school grounds, and I could threaten you with the same,” I retorted before turning away.

A brief whistle of air was the only thing to alert me that the guy I’d punched was swinging at me. I veered to the left, feeling the air from his punch graze my arm as I dodged the blow. “You don't learn, do you?” I scowled, turning back to face him.

The guy shouted angrily before swinging again. His punches were messy, anger clouding his thoughts. I sidestepped them with ease.

“Just stop, before you hurt yourself,” I warned, grabbing his fist and spinning him around to fall onto the floor.

I crouched down next to him, not worried about being hit since he was out of breath and limp on the ground. “And just remember, your threats don’t scare me. Come after Lloyd again, and you don’t need to worry about fearing him — it won’t be Lloyd who will come after you,” I whispered next to him, my voice low enough that only he could hear.

With that, I rose from my feet and walked away. I ignored the looks on everyone’s faces as I got to the bench and swiped my food wrapper from the table. “Thanks for today. I had fun,” I said and turned away without meeting their eyes. “And I’m sorry.”

I left before they could stop me, grimacing at the silence as I walked off. I’d definitely wrecked whatever friendships I was starting to have with them.

“Dammit,” I cursed myself once I was across the street from the plaza. No one had followed me. I didn’t know whether to be glad or feel miserable because of that fact.

“Things were going well, but you had to screw that up, didn’t you?” I muttered under my breath, frustration and shame heating my face up and bringing stinging tears to my eyes. “You got a brand new start, and you just had to ruin it.”

Even though it was only around five, it was getting increasingly darker as I made my way back to the apartment, one hand clenched around the key in my pocket while the other remained free, in case something happened.

I was breaking one of Skylor’s rules; no one was walking me home. Then again, I’d already broken the “behave” rule, so it wasn’t like this was my only transgression.

Nevertheless, I found myself keeping a watchful eye on my surroundings. I would not let my emotions make me an easy target.

A rustle came from behind me, quiet enough where I wouldn’t have heard it if not for the heightened hearing my whisps allowed. It was a human, by the sound of it. Male. Tall.

“Hell no,” I grumbled under my breath, walking faster. Hell if I was going to end up kidnapped or killed because I had been stupid enough to let my emotions get the better of me earlier and effectively cut off the friends that could’ve dropped me off.

I crossed the street suddenly, testing to see if I really was being followed. A few seconds passed and the man didn’t cross over to my side. I was ready to dismiss it as paranoia, but then he crossed, subtly. Pulled out his phone as if looking at directions. I scowled.

Okay, time for test number two.

These parts of Ninjago City, the parts not as close to Skylor’s apartment building, weren’t yet familiar to me where I was comfortable enough to split off public roads into alleys, but there didn’t feel like much else of a choice. I had to shake him.

Keeping a careful watch on the man with my whispers, I headed down a tight alleyway that should’ve still led to the direction of the apartment.

It felt like the man finally realized I was aware of him following me, because his pace sped up, anxious to catch up to me. My heart started beating faster, but I forced myself to keep calm. Panic would not help me now.

Walking wasn’t proving to be enough to shake him off, so when I spotted a wall I could climb up, I quickly hoisted myself onto a ledge and pulled myself over to lay flat on the connecting roof.

Placing a hand over my mouth, I waited for the man to pass the wall I’d scaled, tracking him with my whisps until he was far enough away where he wouldn’t find me again. I slid down the wall, landing silently. Skylor’s apartment wasn’t too far now, and I hurried to get there.

Once I reached the familiar glass door, I breathed out a sigh of relief. I buzzed myself in and climbed up the steps to get to our floor. Now safely inside the locked apartment, I strode over to the couch and collapsed on the cushions.

“That was way too close,” I mumbled into the cushions. If I had been any more distracted, something bad could’ve happened.

I silently resolved to explore more of the city. That would never happen again. Not on my watch.

Exhaustion suddenly came over me, weighing down my eyelids. I let them drift shut, feeling my muscles go limp as I sank further into the couch.

——————————

It was a fitful nap. No dreams or memories, but rest was elusive as smoke.

The sound of a lock being opened and a doorknob rattling open stirred me awake, and I squinted as I slowly lifted my head from the couch to peer at the sound’s origin.

Skylor walked through the door. Light from the hallway backlit her as she entered, laughing softly.

Kai trailed in after her. He was leaning in like he was about to kiss her.

I coughed loudly, clearing my throat to announce my presence before I witnessed something I’d want to burn from my memory.

The two startled at my cough, with Skylor staring at me as Kai frowned.

“Mari? What are you doing here?” she asked, peeling herself away from Kai — who’d started to take off his jacket — to walk over to the couch. “It’s still early, why aren’t you with the n— with your friends?”

I tilted my head at her slipup but looked away when I processed her question. “No reason,” I lied, tucking my knees to my chest and leaning against the couch’s back.

Skylor frowned at the obvious lie. “Did someone walk you back home?”

“No,” I murmured, already feeling tired of where the conversation was going.

“Why not? Did something happen?”

At that, Kai looked up from where he’d been kneeling to take his shoes off. Suspicion and mistrust flared in his eyes as he stepped closer. “What did you do?” he demanded.

I bristled at his words. “I didn’t do anything,” I scowled, but then my anger faded away as quick as it had lit, replaced by shame. “Not to them.”

Alarm flashed in Skylor’s expression. “What happened?” she repeated. I didn’t miss the way her eyes carefully scanned my person for any injuries.

“I…” Hesitation made the words drift away.

“Did you hurt them?” Kai butted in again, still not letting it go.

Skylor turned to him with a disappointed frown. “Kai.”

“No, I want to know,” Kai whipped to face her, anger burning in his eyes. But underneath that anger, some other emotion was present. It looked like panic, or protectiveness.

“I didn’t hurt your friends,” I told him firmly.

Kai looked back at me, doubt permeating his expression. Skylor’s slight worry turned into concern as she noted the way I called them Kai’s friends, not mine.

“Mari, what happened?”

I sighed, looking away as guilt displayed itself on my face. “Some jerks were harassing Lloyd while we were out eating. I… punched one of them.”

The two looked taken aback. Slight respect cut through the fog of Kai’s mistrust, but it was quickly replaced by frustration. “You punched someone?” Kai hissed. “Why would you—” He took a moment to calm himself. “Look, it’s great and all that you wanted to defend Lloyd, but you do know that you’re just proving to the whole city that he — and everyone he associates himself with — is violent, right?”

“I know!” I snapped. “I just— maybe you didn’t know before, but I know what it’s like being an outcast in society. So when those assholes started spewing their crap, I just lost it, okay? I didn’t mean to hurt Lloyd more by punching the guy. And it won’t happen again.”

Kai barked out a laugh. “Believe me, I know about you,” he said. That made me narrow my eyes. “I know all about how you were shunned because you were related to a criminal. That means you should’ve known better,” he reprimanded harshly. My blood went cold when he mentioned my past. “Because guess what? If those people post about what you did online, Lloyd’s reputation is gonna be even worse!”

“You think I don’t know that?” I retorted, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I can’t go back in time and stop myself from doing it, but I promise that it won’t happen again.”

“Oh yeah?” Kai scoffed. “How can I trust the promise of Ikarashi’s niece?”

Once again, my blood froze when Kai spoke.

“How do you know that name?”

My voice was barely audible to my own ears, so it was a wonder Kai heard it. However, it seemed he hadn’t meant to say those words out loud, because he slammed his mouth shut when he realized his slip.

“What name?” He put on a look of confusion, one that I didn’t buy for a second.

“Don’t play dumb,” I snarled. “You just said you knew that I was related to a criminal, but you shouldn’t know who.”

He didn’t answer, but his face said it all.

“You looked into my past, didn’t you?” I breathed out, laughing dryly as I looked away from him. “You… What are you gonna do now, huh? Now that— now that you know Lloyd’s friend is the niece of a yakuza crime boss? Are you gonna banish me from seeing him? Report me to the police?” I goaded him, eyes glinting with dark amusement, daring him to try something.

Kai’s face darkened with barely concealed rage. Skylor’s silence during our discussion didn’t go unnoticed by me.

“Whatever you do won’t be more than I’ve already gone through, I can assure you of that,” I told him, wiping the bitter smile off my face to scowl at him instead.

Sudden understanding dawned on Skylor’s face.

Kai sneered, fists clenching at his sides. “Maybe I will! You’re more of a danger to Lloyd than I thought,” he muttered quietly, his threat making a small pinprick of fear pierce my heart.

“No, you won’t,” came Skylor’s firm reply.

Both of us whipped around to stare at her.

“Why not?” Kai argued. “Do you see her right now? Did you hear her? If she keeps being around Lloyd, she’ll bring more of the police’s attention onto him when he’s done nothing wrong!”

“Have you forgotten who your girlfriend is?” Skylor countered. “I’ve done worse than what she did. Chen was my father. Do you think I deserve to be in jail because of that?”

Kai sighed, almost running a hand through his hair, but stopping just shy of the brown locks. “That’s different!”

“How? How is it any different?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“You’re didn’t— you were never—”

“Yes, I did, and yes, I was,” Skylor interrupted. “I was completely complicit in his illegal fighting arenas and in his other crimes. I was fully aware of it and didn’t feel any remorse.”

Silence met her words as Kai begrudgingly accepted her argument.

“I don’t know if Mari was involved in her uncle’s crimes, but regardless, she left that part of her past behind. She came here to get away and have a fresh start at life,” she finished.

Surprise lit my eyes at her words. Skylor glanced at me, nodding her head in understanding. “I know, Mari. I figured it was why… I see myself in you, you know.” Guilt suddenly washed over me, the memory of my hidden mask burning me with shame.

Turning back to Kai, Skylor jutted a finger into his chest. “And damn it if I’ll let her second chance be taken away from her. I got my second chance — do not take away hers.”

No one said anything after that last line.

“Fine,” Kai eventually huffed. “I won’t report her to the police.”

Skylor raised an eyebrow at him.

He sighed, grumbling under his breath and reluctantly turning to face me. “And I won’t banish you from seeing Lloyd. But I’m warning you: do anything to hurt him, and you’ll wish you never came to Ninjago City.”

Skylor didn’t look too happy with the second part of Kai’s sentence, but she nodded. She was probably thinking the same thing as me: that it was Kai’s way of protecting Lloyd. The same way she was protecting me.

“Thanks,” I said to Kai, making an effort to meet his apology with less hostility. “But I doubt Lloyd wants to be my friend anymore, anyway.”

“Fine by me,” Kai muttered. He yelped when Skylor elbowed him.

“Come here,” Skylor said to Kai, pulling him by an arm to the kitchen, out of my earshot — or at least what it should’ve been if I’d been a normal person. But I had no desire to listen in on their conversation, so I ensured the whispers stilled around them so I wouldn’t overhear anything.

Without my enhanced hearing, I could barely hear the hushed tones they spoke in. But watching them was enough to gauge what they were saying.

As they came to some sort of an agreement, Kai leaned down to peck Skylor on the lips before he pulled his jacket and shoes on and left. As the door clicked shut, Skylor sighed before turning to look at me.

“Me and you are going to have a talk,” she said, her tone leaving no room for debate. But with a glance at the clock on the wall, she sighed once more. “Tomorrow.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Skylor nodded at my agreement and turned to head into her room. “Goodnight, Mar.”

“Goodnight,” I replied, watching her enter the room and shut the door. With a sigh, I eventually got up from the couch to walk into my own bedroom, closing the door with a click and collapsing onto my bed. I didn't bother changing out of what I was dressed in — it wasn't uncomfortable enough to be a priority, not when the day’s exhaustion had worn me down so easily.

My phone buzzed with a notification from where I’d placed it on the nightstand. I turned on ‘do not disturb’ and flipped it over. With my luck, it’d be a text from Lloyd, either saying he didn't want to be my friend or asking me to talk to him about what happened.

I couldn't deal with either of those things right now.

Besides, tomorrow was Sunday. I still had a day to think through what happened and process how I was feeling before I dove into a big discussion with Lloyd and his friends.

But you and Skylor are going to talk tomorrow, too, I reminded myself. Ah, yes. Another thing to add to my laundry list of handling the mess that was my life.

Thankfully, sleep came easily this time. It only took a few seconds to drift into unconsciousness.

——————————

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#lego ninjago #lloyd garmadon #lloyd garmadon x oc #ninjago fic #lego ninjago fanfiction #ninjago x oc #coracal's fics: north wind

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deaddie-munson · 1 year

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Video Killed The Radio Star

Joseph Quinn x Reader

18+ (Minors DNI or I’ll hex you and that’s a promise)

Angst, slow burn, strangers to lovers, femme AFAB reader, eventual smut, mentions of drug use (Weed, Nicotine, alcohol.), Mentions of past abuse, reader is a radio host, reader is from Canada, use of Y/N, more to be added as things progress.

AN- Hi! This is the first fan fiction I’ve written since middle school. you can let me know if you want to be on a tag list. I work full-time and have adult responsibilities so I will try to write chapters when I can, but there will likely be some inconsistent posting. Just trying fic writing again to get my creative juices flowing.

Chapter 1 “You’re Hired”

---

“Come on Y/N, you need to get back out there eventually.” Alex said, snatching your phone out of your hand and holding it away from you.

“No, Alex, I do not need to get back out there,” you said making air quotes. You tried to grab the phone back, but you couldn’t reach it as she held it over the aisle of the bus.

“I’m downloading tinder and making you an account.” Alex said turning the phone towards you to use your face ID. “You need to find at least a fling while you’re on this trip. All the guys would melt at your voice in an instant, I know it.”

You sighed and held your head in your hands. You weren’t ready to move on yet, thoughts of your ex still swirling around in your brain. He dumped you 7 months ago, but that was the kicker. He. Dumped. You. You were still very much in love when it happened. No, he wasn’t anywhere near perfect. He was a little controlling at times, but you loved him. He had you hook, line, and sinker. Then, out of seemingly nowhere, he kicked you out of your shared apartment, and you were forced to sleep on Alex’s couch. It was older than you with springs poking your back the moment you shifted your weight even the slightest.

“I think I should, I don’t know, get settled, and maybe get my own apartment before I jump into that, Alex. Seriously, I don’t want a relationship right now, and I don’t do hookups.” You gave her a cold stare as she was going through your camera roll, trying to find the best photos to put on your profile.

“Y/N, holy shit you look smoking hot in this.” Alex stared at the photo in question. It was a photo from Halloween, Your Playboy bunny costume leaving little to the imagination. It was 3 weeks after your breakup, and after not being allowed to show your body off for 3 years you decided to say fuck it. You thought taking a guy home would help soothe the pain you felt in the pit of your stomach, but after 3 minutes of grunting while you lay underneath, stiff as a board, it was safe to say hookups were not your cup of tea after that.

“I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about me. I’m not looking to hook up with people, Alex. That night made me realize that.” You sighed as you stared out the window, the streets of London bustling as you rode from the hotel to your job interview.

“Well this could be a fresh start for you, Y/N. No one here has a clue who you are. Maybe all these British men are sex gods or something. Everyone knows everyone in our town, this place is worlds different. A lot easier to avoid the ones that finish in 2 minutes.” Alex laughed at herself, thinking she was a comedian as you keep a close eye on the bus stops.

“We’re here, Alex. Now give me my damn phone.” You said, snatching it out of her hands. She turned to you with puppy dog eyes. You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at her as you pushed her to get up and off the bus.

“I still can’t believe you got a job interview in London, and they were so insistent on meeting you in person that they let you take me.” Alex raved as you walked the last few blocks to your destination.

“I know, it was a little strange. I thought they would just do everything online since I certainly didn’t have the money to fly here myself,” you slow your pace, taking in the city surrounding you. You sigh and look at your best friend. “I just needed any excuse to get out of that town. It was too much pain for me to stay. I’m just glad the station let me take the remote gear so I can still do my show. ‘Y/N live from The Big Smoke.’”

“If you get this gig that means you are moving to another continent, and I’m never going to see you again.” Alex pouts.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. You’ll be taking plenty of vacations here to see me. Not like you need to pay for a hotel, you can sleep on whatever shitty couch I grab off the side of the road,” you laugh.

“Okay, rude,” Alex retorts. “I just mean I'll miss you, Y/N. I won’t know who to do tequila shots at the bar with anymore.”

“I’m sure lots of guys will want to do shots with you. Maybe other stuff too...” You chuckle to yourself as you see the building come into view. “I think this is it. Looks pretty swanky.”

You press the buzzer and an older lady answers. “104.5 The Surge, how can I help you?”

“Um, Yeah, Hi. My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here for my interview with George Thomas for the Program Director Position.” You feel your heart pick up speed and your hands are suddenly clammy.

“Don’t be nervous, Y/N. They will love you, I promise.” Alex whispers. She could see your body tense, clenching your jaw and grinding your teeth together as the lady on the intercom responds.

“Oh yes dear, we were expecting you. I’ll buzz you in.” The door unlocks and you hold the door open for Alex to step through. Giving her a wide-eyed expression so she knew how much you were panicking.

“Just breathe. You’ll be fine,” Alex said as you step into the lobby. The walls were a rusty orange, autographed records and photos covering the walls. A locked trophy case filled with awards catching your attention as you stepped towards it.

“Is that a grammy? Wow, I wonder how they got their hands on that?” You looked in awe at all the awards and slowly walked to the desk where the lady from the intercom sat, Typing away while humming the song faintly playing in the background.

“Y/N, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name! George has not stopped talking about you since your first interview.” She beamed up at you.

“Really? Oh, well, I guess I’m glad I left a good impression.” You played with a hangnail on the side of your thumb, focusing on anything but the fact you were about have a job interview for the opportunity of a lifetime.

“George will just be a few minutes, because one of his meetings is running a little late. If you want to take a seat over there by the fireplace He will be out soon and come to get you. If you need anything in the meantime, my name is Cynthia.” She gestured to the opposite side of the lobby where there were a group of green leather couches, looking pristine and comfortable.

“This sure beats your couch, huh Alex.” You plop down on the couch with a thud, feeling the plush memory foam of the cushion allowing you to sink into it.

“Well you won’t have to sleep on any couches if you get this job.” Alex quips back.

A familiar voice comes into ear shot. Very low and gravely with a very posh accent. “Well, I’m glad you could stop by to interview for the podcast before you fly out. We really appreciate your time,”

Another voice, that sounds much younger responds, a pretty accent on him that made his words sound like silk. “It’s really not a problem, I always remember where I started, George.” He sounds... Familiar. No one else was ever in your online interviews, so you can’t pinpoint who the voice belongs too.

The older man you recognize swoops around the corner and sees you and he stops in his tracks. “Y/N! I’m glad you made it! I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

“Absolutely Sir, take your time.” You said, a little more chipper than you wanted it to come out.

“Oh, call me George,” he says as he continues towards the door. The man behind him follows around the corner and you recognize him immediately. You look over at Alex and her jaw could have been on the floor.

---

On the plane ride from YHZ to LCY the two of you decided to watch the new season of Stranger Things since it just came out and you needed something that would last you at least a good chunk of the ride. You downloaded them on Netflix the night before you left and started watching together on your iPad while it was propped up on the tiny tray table. You were watching together in silence until you saw a new character being introduced.

“Ooo... A new person? I’m interested.” Alex says as she leans in a little closer to the screen. When the face from behind the magazine appears, she backs away from the screen and slumps back in her seat turning to face you. “Damn I was hoping for another Steve Harrington to thirst over, what do you think Y/N-”

You were staring at the screen. Mouth agape, eyes fixed on the man on the screen in front of you.

“Y/N. Really? Joe Keery exists and THIS is who you see and immediately have the hots for?” Alex teased.

“I do not!” You hit her with your elbow and paused the show.

“I never knew you were into freaks, Y/N.” Alex laughs pretending to wipe drool from your mouth with her sleeve.

“Wait was I seriously drooling?” You grab your phone to look at yourself in your camera.

“HA! Gotcha! You do have the hots for him.” Alex laughed, trying to contain herself so she doesn’t annoy everyone on the plane.

“I need to find out who his actor is as soon as we land,” you said.

---

You sat there in shock, and looked at Alex who was still sitting beside you. Eyes wide and mouth wide open. You elbow her and she comes back to reality, smoothing her hair and adjusting her posture so she looked as pretty and feminine as possible.

“Y/N, this is Joseph Quinn. I don’t know if you’re a Stranger Things fan but he has just had his big break as their new addition to the main cast,” George said. Gesturing to Joseph. He was blushing at his introduction, not being used to celebrity status yet.

You get up from your seat on the couch and start panicking immediately. You weren't mentally prepared for this interview, let alone meeting the man who somehow awakened something in you hadn’t felt in 3 years. “Yeah um hi, it’s nice to meet you Joseph. I’m Y/N Y/L/N since I guess we’re on full name basis here.”

He chuckles at your introduction. Oh my god he thinks I’m funny. “Oh, just call me Joe. It’s lovely to meet you Y/N, and this is?” He said gesturing to the girl beside you. Once again, she is stiff as a board with her mouth wide open in shock.

“Well, this is Alex. She is a big Stranger Things fan so I think she might be a little star struck right now,” you giggle as she comes to from hearing her name. She gets up and rushes over eagerly, taking Joe’s hand in a firm (and probably a little too enthusiastic) handshake.

“I can already tell you're not from here, so what brings you to The Surge? New project you’re chatting with George about?” He said taking in your features as he talks. Your head looks at the ground while you laugh, but you can still feel his big brown eyes on you. You felt a little weak in the knees.

“Y/N is here from a small town in eastern Canada, and she is actually interviewing to take over my position. I’m moving into a less hands on roll I can do from home as I ease myself into retirement,” he said. “I can’t wait to be able to travel with Rhonda and do the things we’ve talked about before we get too old.”

“Well that’s lovely, George. You deserve it. Good luck with the interview, Y/N. I may be seeing a lot more of you.” Joe said giving you a smile and reaching out his hand to shake yours. You were now acutely aware your hands are very clammy. You quickly rubbed your hand on your pant leg and he cupped your hand in between both of his, feeling something light in your hand as you closed it into a fist, and stuffed it in your pocket to look at later.

“C-can I get a photo if you don’t mind?” Alex said, holding her phone out to you.

“Uh, sure absolutely,” Joe said, wrapping an arm around Alex as you back up and snap a photo of them.

“One of those should work,” You said to Alex as she steals her phone out of your hand and Looks through the photos.

“Y/N. You better get this job. I want to walk in here to see Joe Keery walking out next.” She whispered in your ear as she walked back to the couches in the lobby.

Joe looked at you and gave you a quick wink and cheeky smile as he headed out the door. George a few steps ahead to open it for him “Don’t be a stranger, Joe.” He said as Joe steps out the door.

“I’ll let you know when I’m back in London!” He calls back, walking to the car waiting for him.

“Alright, Y/N, let’s get this party started shall we? Follow me.” George leads the way to a conference room with a large circular table with 15 chairs around it.

“This is a lot bigger then the board room at my home station,” you said scanning your eyes at all the art and memorabilia that covered the walls, the newest one sitting on top of the table. A framed Hellfire club shirt with Joe’s signature.

“That’s an original from the show,” he brags. “Joe interned here as a kid before he started acting. I always knew he was going to go somewhere. So this is a big deal for us here, but enough about Joe. This is about you. How was your flight?”

“No delays, surprisingly,” you said. Feeling some of the nerves start to dissipate as you sit on opposite sides of the large table.

“Well, I must say, it’s a first for us to be flying someone out for an interview, but with the rave references you got and how much you’ve accomplished in your short career, I can’t help but think you’d be a perfect fit to bring a breath of fresh air back into this station.” George said.

“Wow, well it’s a passion so I try to give my all in everything I do. When you love what you do, you never work a day in your life, right?” You ask.

“Absolutely, and I know I said this was an interview, but I actually just wanted to offer you the job in person,” he explained. “I think you can do a lot of good for this station, and nobody else seems to love the job as much as you do. What do you think about that?”

“A-absolutely I accept. Thank you so much, I will not let you down,” you stutter. Your hands shaking as you reach over the table to shake his hand.

“Now, we will pay for your trip home and back to grab your things, but we have a fully furnished flat ready for you to move into,” he explained. “Joe’s new building had an opening and he just bought all ��new furniture so he gave his old stuff to us to put in there for you.”

“Joe, as in the Joe I just met?” you asked.

“Yeah, he just messaged me saying you can pop by before 5 o’clock tonight and he will give you the grand tour. Apparently, it’s pretty nice. Don’t worry about the first month's rent either, we will cover that for you, and it’s well within your budget,” he said, handing you a keycard. “This is for the station door. Welcome to the team, Y/N.”

“This is a dream come true, truly. Thank you for this opportunity, I am so excited to start,” you said.

“Well, I think you have a friend in the lobby waiting to hear the good news!” George holds the door open for you and you step out, walking down the hall to see Alex in the lobby. She looked at you with a hopeful gaze and you slowly revealed the key card from behind your back. She immediately jumped out of her seat and hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around.

“My best friend is a radio star!” She squealed.

“Yeah right,” you rolled your eyes when she put you down. “We will see about that.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. You as well, Alex. I’ll walk you out,” George said. Gesturing for the door.

You dug in your pocket and felt what Joe put in your hand earlier. You pulled it out and noticed it was a gum wrapper. Confused, you unravel it to see a note written in red pen.

My number is on the back. Call me and I’ll show you the best place for a celebratory drink. Congratulations.

#joseph quinn #eddie munson #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things #eddie munson fic #joseph quinn fic #eddie munson x reader

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cloudy-em · 10 months

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we'll make it work - spencer reid x fem!reader

i've had a really busy week and i'm in need of some relaxing time. i find writing generally pretty relaxing. this one may not be too good because this is more of a vent post and living vicariously through my writing as opposed to putting thought into it, but i figured i'd post anyways. feel free to view my pinned post (mobile or desktop) or click the compass icon (desktop) for my masterlist + all of my important links :)

Spencer had invited me to join the team for dinner at Rossi's after I had complained about not being social enough. As a CIA agent who is often sent abroad to consume and collect news sources from various countries and analyze them, having a social life isn't exactly my top priority.

Spencer and I had meant a couple of years ago at a bookstore when he'd turned a corner too quickly, accidently pushing me into a shelf. We had a good laugh about it and ended up talking for hours when he realized I held a copy of Any Human Heart. We remained friends, and my partner and I had even helped Spencer's team catch an unsub when she tried to leave the US and go to Budapest. We only grew closer from there. It's funny how the simplest mistakes can bring people together.

I had yet to meet Spencer's team officially; the Budapest situation ended with my partner and I returning the unsub to the US and simply handing her off to Spencer's team. There was no time or need for introductions.

As Spencer and I walked up to Rossi's rather extravagant front door, I found myself growing nervous. This team was like a family, and I was going to be the one weird tagalong.

Spencer rang the doorbell, and a beaming blonde wearing a bright pink dress opened the door. Her appearance alone made me smile - she looked like she was kind and happy, and she reminded me of the dolls I'd see in shop windows.

"Spencer's here!" she turned to yell into the house before waving her hands wildly to invite us in. As she shut and locked the door behind us, she turned to me and smiled. "My name's Penelope, and you must be Y/N! Spencer talks about you all. the. time. I'm so glad to finally meet you. Come on, let's go meet the rest of the team!" she all but grabbed my hand and dragged me towards a large kitchen, where the rest of the team stood nursing white wine as an older gentleman instructed them on cooking pasta.

"-remember, we always salt your pasta water before boiling it. The water should be salty like the sea! Now that it's been seven minutes, we can remove and drain the pasta," he paused, demonstrating the step he had previously narrated.

The rest of the team nodded. Penelope cleared her throat, "Everyone, Spencer and Y/N are here!" the team smiled, turning to look at the both of us.

"Perfect timing," our chef for the evening said in a welcoming tone. "I'm almost done with the meal. Emily, would you pour the late arrivals their wine?"

A brunette smiled and nodded, gesturing for us to follow her further into the kitchen area. "I'm Emily," she introduced herself to me as she poured one glass of wine, holding it out for me to take before pouring another for Spencer. "I hope you guys had a good evening before coming here," she said, looking at Spencer with a facial expression I couldn't quite describe. Spencer quickly placed his hand on my back, making my cheeks heat up as he mumbled something about being introduced to the rest of the team. We made our rounds and I shook hands with Derek, JJ, and Hotch.

Rossi announced that dinner was ready and directed all of us to his dining room. The meal was delicious; nothing too fancy. It was comforting but still held the flair one would expect from a famous author. The table made small talk at first, discussing weekend plans before we got more comfortable and went more into detail about our personal lives. JJ talked about her husband and son, Hotch detailed his experience in teaching Jack how to hit a t-ball, and Derek said he thought his most recent hookup might be going somewhere. Before Spencer or I could even process what was happening, Penelope turned to the two of us, a curious smile splayed across her lips.

"So, how long have you two been dating?" she asked.

It wasn't that I found the idea of dating Spencer unappealing, in fact I found it incredibly appealing. I'd thought about it multiple times. We got along great, we went out together nearly every weekend we both had the time to do something, and we made each other laugh. It was more that the question was so blunt, it caught me off-guard. Thus, I inhaled my wine in shock, immediately choking and tearing up.

Spencer looked between Penelope and I in shock, like he was watching everything unfold three steps behind everyone else.

"Are you not going to help your choking girlfriend, loverboy?" Derek asked in a teasing tone.

Spencer quickly reached up to rub my back and help my body calm down from its response to having wine in the lungs before making a quiet, yet firm, statement.

"She's not my girlfriend."

I had to pretend it didn't hurt, but I'm sure in a room full of profilers, they could all see right through me. Spencer and I were friends, and I was thankful for that, but I had always hoped it might be something more. I took a deep breath, listening as the conversation shifted to make the atmosphere less awkward. I finished my meal and thanked Rossi, announcing that I was tired after my last flight from Geneva. I bid everyone a good night, put my plate in the sink, and found myself on the stairs on Rossi's front porch, turning around as I heard the door open behind me.

"Hey, I figured I'd walk you home," Spencer said, voice soft and unsure. I nodded silently as a sign that I was giving him permission to do so. We walked down the sidewalk together, the tension in my shoulders probably giving notice of my stress.

"What's up?" Spencer asked suddenly, but it sounded more like a statement. Like an, "I know something's up, so tell me before I figure it out for myself", although knowing him, he'd probably already figured it out. I shrugged. "Well, something changed at dinner. You were all smiles and conversation and then it's like a rubber band snapped," he let out a puff of air, signaling that he meant it in a light-hearted way.

I didn't answer.

"The team liked you," he paused. "Like, really liked you."

I got frustrated with his awkwardness; why couldn't he just say the words? He's glad we're friends, he's sorry they asked if we were dating, whatever. Rip the band-aid off.

"Yeah, I could tell, Spencer," I said, colder than intended. "They thought I was your girlfriend, that's how much they liked me. Self-fulfilling prophecy or whatever." Spencer tilted his head, confused.

"I'm not sure that's self-fulfilling prophecy, I mean you didn't convince yourself of something so much that you let it happen, they just assumed something that was incorrect-" he began to ramble.

"Shut up, Spencer! God, don't you see that I like you? That I've been hoping you'd just fucking ask me out? But we're both busy people who have hard lives and you're a genius who's fantastic and solves crimes, and I'm me who's essentially a walking database of foreign newspapers!" I let out some of my feelings, not even realizing what I'd said. "It wouldn't work out between us anyways because we're good friends and I appreciate that and I'd always hoped we'd be more but it's okay, I know it won't work, so let's just move on and sleep it off-"

"We'll make it work."

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #david rossi #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #derek morgan #light angst #confession #fanfic #x reader

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braineater444 · 6 months

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Hi to the five people that still think about this blog. I’ve been writing a new fic and honestly idk if it will ever come out because it feels more personal than ever. It’s about Kokonoi if anyones reading this. But that’s not what I want to talk about. I need the anonymity and freedom to complain about all the emotions and thoughts this fic has brought out of me. This is a vent post about my personal life.

Recently, a couple months ago, I lost my virginity and got into my first ever relationship. I’m bipolar and I was manic when it happened and I feel so ashamed and I don’t know what to do or say.

I try to disengage from sentimentality, but I’ve always been sensitive about everything. I understand virginity isn’t important. I get that, but I was so scared and taken aback when it happened. I have this deep rooted fear of being alone and I didn’t know what to do. I kept letting them touch me and come into my home and I never said anything. Everything they did hurt so bad and still I wanted to be with them because it was the first time I’d been given such attention. The first time I went that far and I scrambled to hold it together. I told them I wanted to be in a relationship and I knew in my heart that I wasn’t ready for that, but I didn’t know any other choice.

Naturally, this doesn’t fell like it’s going well and I’m all torn up on the inside. I tried to break up with them once, but I felt to overcome by grief and stayed. We argue over things I wouldn’t consider to be huge issues. They can’t stand the things I say or do and they think I hate them. I’m not sure I don’t. But maybe a week ago I held them while they cried in my bed at 2 am. I was tired and already dozing off, but I stayed up because I didn’t want them to feel as if I didn’t care. I’m bad with affection so I let them cry for a while and didn’t ask questions after I realized they weren’t going to answer me. Then, I helped the best way I knew how. I brushed their hair, painted their nails, and put glitter under their eyes. I felt so sad and distraught the entire time.

My family adores them. They think my partner is funny. They’re right. My partner is wonderfully charismatic. Sometimes I’m jealous of how well they navigate socially. I’m no good with others, so I do most things alone. Hell, most of the time we argue over the phone and I just hang up and put my phone on do not disturb. I can’t navigate anything to do with others for the life of me. It’s a little funny.

Regardless, when it’s good, its good. When it’s bad it feels like the end. They do things I don’t do and want things I don’t want. It hurts my head and I never no what to think. They’re so beautiful, but so jealous. I feel like I’m being treated like the one who cheated on them, but I’m not. I was never the girl that cheated on them, but I feel like I’m being punished in her stead. I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before and it’s all so contradictory. I feel shredded.

Because the world is so dark right now, I can’t cry. I think it’s really selfish to do. But, my fashion and creative expression is all I have to cling on to right now. I’ve turned to the aesthetics of religion and movies about women who’ve lost it to wallow. I’ve been looking for beautiful mantillas and rosaries despite being agnostic on my best day and an atheist on my worst. I’ve been reaching for prayer candles and investing in stories of women suffering more and more. Sometimes, I think my pain is what binds me to womanhood. I used to question myself, but this pain is undoubtedly feminine. I feel both empty and full.

Several times I thought to say “I think we started having sex too soon, we should stop for a while.” And every time I can’t bring myself to do it. It feels like an arduous labor of love. I dreaded it in the beginning, but I think I’ve tricked myself into craving it. But I’m so confused because now my body betrays me when I tell myself I don’t want it. I don’t understand a single thing.

I don’t feel like myself anymore, but I’m not depressed or unhappy, just lost. I want to return to something and it feels like I’m grieving whatever that is. Surely it isn’t my downright awful girlhood. Or my hymen. Or the time before this where I was consistently alone. I’m confused and hurt.

It’s so weird to have one person’s undivided attention. I used to think this is what I wanted. I used to day dream about it. I knew it’d be hard, but this is more painful than I imagined. I tried talking to my friends, but I can’t be this blunt with them for fear of disparaging comments from people I adore. I just need a blank slate. Someone faceless and voiceless to talk to. I don’t have to pretend to be tough like I always do (even in the privacy of my own home) or pause to answer questions. I just need to talk.

With that, I’m sorry if my next fic (if it comes out) is more psychological than anything if you guys aren’t into that. With the mess in my head I couldn’t find another way. I need something self indulgent and ridiculous because I love my partner. I really do.

#yes i have a therapist #no im probably not autistic #isn’t being bipolar enough #none if this feel like who I was meant to be #i keep making stupid choices and I don’t know how to quit #i need good fruit

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stronginawayjbb · 2 years

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Christmas With the Starks

Hi everyone!! I have a very early Christmas fic. No shame. Soon to be cross posted on AO3. Enjoy! 💕

Pairing: Tony Stark x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Tags: fluff, slight angst

Summary: Christmas with Tony Stark is a little different than a normal family. Despite the holiday, heroes don't get a break from saving the world.

Taglist: @mostly-marvel-musings ❤️

It was Christmas eve. Usually, you weren’t a fan of the holiday season. It reminded you too much of the past you had tried so hard to leave behind. However, this year, you were content. It was your first Christmas with your new husband, billionaire Tony Stark. Yes, you were the lovely Mrs. Stark, and you were all too happy to change your name. Sure, it wasn't your first Christmas together, but the first one as a married couple. The two of you had decided to spend the holiday at the Malibu mansion, not wanting to deal with the snow and bitter cold of New York. Being in New York at Christmas also reminded Tony of his parents’ deaths. He figured being in sunny Malibu with you would be better. New traditions could start, and it could just be the newlyweds.

He still considered it to be your honeymoon, despite being married nearly two weeks ago. He was so busy finding every place he could fuck you that he’d ignored all of Steve’s calls, telling JARVIS to decline every call and take a message. Soon, the voicemail was overflowing with a concerned captain, but Tony remained unfazed.

The two of you were cuddled up on the couch together, sipping piña coladas and watching some forgotten show. You both were wrapped up in conversation, talking about memories from the past couple of months.

"I'm so glad Natasha was my maid of honor. I couldn't have imagined having anyone else beside me for our wedding."

"I still can't get over how beautiful you looked. That dress fit you just right. Your pearl necklace looked incredible with it. I am a pretty amazing gift giver, if I do say so myself," Tony teased. You felt a pang in your chest as you laughed. You had gotten Tony a Christmas present but you weren't sure if he'd like it. You wanted your first holiday as a married couple to be perfect. However, it seemed as though all of that was falling apart.

"Sir, a call from Agent Coulson is coming through."

"Decline."

"Tony, you know I can bypass your system."

"Shit, I know. What do you want, Coulson?"

"There's been a Ten Rings attack."

You looked at your husband worriedly. You had a sudden realization that this was what Captain Rogers had been calling about. The threat was here, and Tony knew it was time to spring into action. He looked at you, mouthing "it's okay" to you. It always made you nervous when he went on a mission involving the Ten Rings, considering they'd nearly killed him more than once.

"JARVIS, get Mark 22 ready, it's time for battle."

"We knew Iron Man would be ready. Thank you, Mr. Stark. I will debrief you when you return."

Agent Coulson gave Tony some more specifics that you tuned out. It was Christmas Eve, couldn't the world stop committing crime for two days? You just wanted a nice holiday with your husband.

The phone call ended, and you looked to a hurried Tony who was suiting up.

"Please be safe, baby."

He put his armored hand to your cheek, kissing you before he dropped his mask.

"I will be back shortly, honey. I promise."

He walked out to the balcony, taking off to fly to God knows where. He'd made promises before. Most of the time, he wasn’t able to keep them. Promises like “I promise we can get a kitten from the shelter” or “I promise I’ll take you to Build-A-Bear.” Sometimes it was even “I promise I’ll come to bed tonight” and “I promise I’ll drink water and eat something today.” The former set didn’t matter to you that much, but the latter set always worried you. Ever since being held hostage in Afghanistan, Tony hadn’t been the same. He'd never let on to anything, but you knew he wasn’t quite right. Having him out fighting the Ten Rings made you more nervous than any other mission he’d been on. What if they captured him again? What if this time, they actually killed him? Would you ever get his wedding ring back or be able to say goodbye?

Before you knew it, you were turning on a news station and pacing the floor. Lights wrapped around the tree and draped over the mantle twinkled in the window’s reflection. The sun had just set over the ocean, and seeing the dark blue expanse made your heart ache. You knew Tony was worlds away, and all you could do was pray he was safe. The news had nothing interesting on, but soon enough, the familiar red and gold was flashing across your screen. He was somewhere in Monaco, it seemed. Last time he was there, he encountered Ivan Vanko, and he’d nearly lost his life while racing. If Pepper hadn’t come to his rescue with his suit in a briefcase, he definitely wouldn’t be here right now.

Seeing Iron Man in Monaco caused you to panic.

“JARVIS, can I get an update on tony’s suit please?”

“It seems his suit is at 50% power and rapidly draining with no end to the mission in sight. I am putting a significant amount of effort into keeping him from going into cardiac arrest from palladium poisoning.”

“J, call Tony, please.”

You could hear the call attempting to go through, and then the line went dead.

“JARVIS! get tony on the phone!”

“I’m sorry, miss. He's declined your call.”

“What the fuck, Tones?” you cursed out loud to the walls and the still-wrapped presents under the tree, knowing nothing was going to get him to accept your call during a mission. He had to call you. You hoped it was soon. If he was going to die, you at least wanted--

“Honey?” the familiar hurried tone came over the house. Tony's calls were programmed to auto accept.

“Baby, hi. how’s it going?” You breathed a sigh of relief and steeled your nerves for bad news.

“Well, the bad guys are taken care of, but I have to get from Monaco to Malibu on 10% power, which isn’t just stretching it, it’s hoping for a miracle. I’ll be home as soon as I can. I love you, sweetheart.”

Before you could say “I love you” back, the phone had gone silent. Tears welled up in your eyes. Not knowing if your husband would even make it home made your chest ache. You needed him home, in your arms. Your first Christmas together was falling apart already. You didn’t care if he got you an expired, moldy fruitcake he ransacked from a dumpster for Christmas. You just wished he would come back to you.

8p.m. soon turned into 3a.m., and there was still no sign of Iron Man. You began to panic. What if Tony didn’t come home this time? What if he was dead on the side of the road right now? a million thoughts raced through your head, not one of them comforting. All of the sudden, the soft glow of the Christmas lights seemed too cheery. It reminded you of the brown eyed man you loved that still wasn’t home.

You didn’t like to consider yourself a military wife, but since Stark Industries and the Avengers were all intertwined with the government and military, you kind of were. You were glad Tony had never been gone for more than a month at a time. You couldn’t imagine how awful it felt to be away from your spouse for six months or more. Being away from Tony for two days had you feeling lonely. This particular mission, though...one hour felt like a week. He had been gone entirely too long. You had JARVIS turn on a playlist to calm you down. “Love in Slow Motion" by Ed Sheeran came on. You remembered the first time you played it for Tony. You two were on a picnic in Central Park with the beautiful spring sun shining down on you both. He looked at you like you hung the very stars he soared among, and in that moment he vowed to never take you for granted. It was the song you danced to on the boat the afternoon he proposed at Lake Tahoe. All the good memories associated with the tune washed over you like a tidal wave of nostalgia.

It's been a while since we've been alone

To turn off the world and the telephone

Need to tell you you're beautiful, 'cause it's been a while, and I apologize

I just get caught up in the rat race I'm runnin'

Chasin' a moment, I'm hoping is comin'

If I stopped and took a look around

It's in front of my eyes, eyes

Baby let's slow down time

Maybe just press rewind

Darling, that dress reminds

Me of the first time

“And I wanna love tonight, one on one by the candlelight. Over and over, we spend our lives living fast forward, but not tonight. Love in slow motion.”

The familiar tenor voice came from behind you. You whipped around to discover your favorite man on the planet. Your husband, Tony Stark. His voice was just barely above a whisper, the same one he used when he needed to calm you down from a panic attack. You ran into his open arms, and he looked nearly the same as when he'd left.

"You're home," you breathed out, all your worries vanishing in his arms.

"I promised. I'll always come home."

You pushed yourself back, not wanting to leave his embrace but needing to look at his injuries. As suspected, he had a few cuts on his face. One on his cheekbone, one on his eyebrow, one on his chin. The blood had dried up but they still needed tending to. You took his hand, dragging him to the medical cabinet that was kept fully stocked at all times in every area of the mansion.

"Babe do we have to do this every time? I'm fine. Everything is dry, I promise." Tony loved to argue about you fixing up his battle injuries but you knew even the smallest cut could cause an infection, especially because it's hard telling what he was exposed to wherever his mission was.

"Yes, because for the thousandth time, it's important to keep all wounds clean, dry, and sterile so the chance of infection is decreased. You knew this would happen when you married a nurse-turned-Stark CEO."

He'd never admit to it, but he was grateful for it. He had noticed he was sick less since you started taking care of him, and it probably had something to do with actually keeping wounds covered and clean. JARVIS would tell him there's a correlation, but Tony was never too keen on actually believing it. He did enjoy the extra attention, though.

You cleaned off each wound with hydrogen peroxide, then wiped it off with an alcohol swab. He winced every time but you knew he was just being dramatic, as always. After each cut had been properly bandaged, you were holding him on the couch. He leaned against your chest, and your fingers were mindlessly carding through his tangled curls. Your mind wandered to something JARVIS had said earlier, something about...palladium poisoning? Cardiac arrest? You worked to keep your breathing steady so you wouldn’t disturb a very peaceful looking Tony. You hated to interrupt his thoughts but this was important. You had to know.

“Tones?”

“Yes, love?”

You took a deep breath, not wanting to freak him out.

“Earlier, when I asked JARVIS for a status update on your suit, he said something about--” you were cut off by sobs. Tony was so young, you didn’t want to lose him. He still had caramel highlights in his hair from this past summer, no grey in sight. He had to grow old with you.

Tony shot up, immediately knowing what you were going on about.

“Palladium poisoning,” he whispered, sitting criss-cross between your legs. he pulled you into his lap, holding you to his chest.

“Honey, I didn’t want to worry you, so I was working on finding a replacement. I found an element that dad discovered in the 70s, but I needed to figure out how to implement it into my arc reactor. I wanna call it ‘badassium’ but I can’t get that patented. I have it mostly figured out, but I do need some help changing it out," he explained. You felt his breathing become more shallow, waiting on your response. He kept you close with one hand, the other going to wipe away your tears and tuck your hair behind your ear. "I'm sorry, baby. I knew I shouldn't have kept that from you but you were so excited about the wedding and this and us – I didn't wanna ruin that by telling you I was kind of dying."

His doctor had determined that surgery would be too risky right now. He needed to get his diet under control and cut back his caffeine so his body could heal properly. Removing shrapnel is no small feat.

“Then what the fuck are we waiting for? I can’t lose you, Tones. Not yet.”

He nodded and kissed you softly. "So I take that as you'll be my assistant?" he asked with a little chuckle.

You rolled your eyes and dragged him down to his lab, immediately spotting the new arc reactor sitting on one of his work benches.

“Okay, tell me what I need to do.” He gave you a signature Stark eye roll as you washed your hands and put on a pair of gloves.

“It's not that bad, sweetheart. This can wait a couple days.”

“Nope. JARVIS said your suit was draining power because he was trying to keep you from going into cardiac arrest. We’re not waiting anymore, Mr. Stark.”

“Alright, fine,” he sighed in defeat. His shirt came off and he attached himself to an EKG as a formality. Tony sat down in a raised chair and leaned back, exposing his chest and arc reactor. He held the new reactor in one hand and pulled out the old one with the other.

“Now, we've only got a few minutes, so what I need you to do is stick your hand down in the hole and grab the copper wire. it's just like Operation, don't let the metal touch the sides.”

“I don't think I'm qualified to do this,” you answered, hesitant.

“Nope, you're the most qualified and competent person for the job,” he assured. You stuck your hand down in his chest, feeling some kind of discharge in the cavity. Through all the squishy...whatever, you finally felt the wire.

“Okay, the wire should be loosely wrapped around the magnet. I need you to undo it and leave the magnet in,” he instructs next. You nod and work with your fingers as best you can without looking. You hated the gloves because you couldn't feel as well, but it would have to do. Eventually you got it and gently pulled out the wire. He gave you a smile as he plugged in his new arc reactor to the base plate. He drew in a breath through his teeth and screwed his eyes shut for a moment, then seemed to be okay.

"Babe are you alright?" you ask softly.

He looks up at you with loving eyes, a little smile on his face. “Pretty sure that shrapnel thought it had a chance for a second but we got it.”

Your eyes softened as you took off your gloves and threw them away, "Don't scare me like that ever again."

"Point taken. Thank you, sweetheart." He looked out his lab windows to see the sky looking a deep orange shade. Sunrise. "And seeing as it's officially Christmas now...wanna go open presents?"

"Oh, darling, you didn't need to get me anything. You're quite the present enough."

He looked at you with a funny look on his face. "Well, considering the fact that you got me a present, I figured it only fair to get you something."

You smiled on the outside, but on the inside, you were nervous. You had gotten something made, and then made something yourself. You weren't sure if he'd like either of the items. They weren't expensive, but they were heartfelt.

As you two settled in on the couch upstairs, presents in front of you, funny nicknames on all the tags, tony took your hand. "Honey, I just wanted to tell you I love you. Thank you for putting up with all my shit. I know you worry but I promise I will always come back."

You smiled softly. "I love you too, tones." You handed him the smaller of the gifts, wrapped beautifully and topped with a tiny gold bow. "Open it."

He tore the wrapping off to reveal a small white box, which he opened to reveal a silver toned ring, engraved all around with something. He looked at it confused, and you got nervous, so you explained.

"It's my thumbprint. I had it sized to your middle finger so you could wear it by your wedding ring. There's an engraving on the inside, too."

He held it up to the light, revealing the "til Valhalla" written on the inside.

"In Norse mythology, Valhalla is the hall where all the heroes and warriors go after passing in battle. It's supposedly beautiful. It's where I hope you go when you're 500 years old, because you're not allowed to die until I die. You'll have me with you til Valhalla, angel."

Tony had tears in his eyes.

"Honey, I… don't even know where to begin. This is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me. You mean the absolute world to me and I love you so much." He leaned into hug you, resting his forehead against yours and kissing your nose softly. You smiled, whispering against his lips, "I have one more, love."

You handed him the slightly bigger one. He unwrapped it, trying not to cry again. You had painted him an abstract version of his arc reactor, circling it with "proof that tony stark has a heart."

"Good God these gifts are perfect, I love you I love you I love you."

"I'm glad you think so, babe."

"Okay, my turn." He handed you a semi small box. You could tell someone else had wrapped it because tony had the wrapping skills of a two year old, but that would be an insult to toddlers.

You carefully unwrapped it, not knowing what he could have possibly given you that you don't already have. On the front, in his chicken scratch handwriting, were the words "coupon book."

It was your turn to be confused, and Tony was carefully studying your reaction. You opened it up, flipping through the pages. It was cute shit, not actual coupons. Things like "good for 1 trip to Build a Bear to pick out whatever you want" and "good for 1 kitten adoption." There was even a "good for getting me out of the lab whenever you want" coupon, and it looked like it had unlimited uses and no expiration date.

"Tony, this is so precious. I love it. thank you thank you thank you. I love you so much, Tones." you cupped his face, kissing him. Before you knew it, he was picking you up bridal style, carrying you to your bedroom.

"Now, if there are no objections, I'd like to go to bed."

"That sounds good to me, babe," you chuckled, placing your head in the crook of his neck. "Best Christmas ever."

#tony stark x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #tony stark #iron man #mcu fanfic #self insert

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jodithann827 · 1 year

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Pretty Woman 11/11

Rating: Explicit / posted on AO3 / tagging @today-in-fic

Thank you for going on this journey with me ❤️

Limousine

California Highway

5:30 pm

Mulder sighs, leaning back into the cool leather of the limousine. He left the hotel over twenty minutes ago after waiting until the last possible second in the hopes that Scully would come back. It was when Langly called to tell him the car was ready that he finally admitted defeat and trudged to the lobby. While checking out, he said goodbye to Mr. Skinner and thanked him for his generosity. Skinner seemed surprised that Scully wasn’t with him but again commented that she’d be welcome back to the Waldorf any time she liked, and what a special lady she was. Mulder nodded, only hearing half of what he’d said. He was anxious to get into the car and see what Scully had slipped into his hand.

Once on the road, he quickly unfolds the piece of paper. In Scully’s beautifully written script, he reads:

My Dearest Mulder,

There are so many thoughts and feelings I’d like to convey, but I feel as though my words wouldn’t be adequate. To say thank you would be the understatement of the century, but there it is; thank you. Thank you for one of the most amazing weeks I’ve ever had. Thank you for listening to me, for opening up to me, for allowing me to be my authentic self, and for showing me what I believe to be your authentic self. You are a special person, Mulder, whether you know this to be true or not. I’m promising you, you are. I wish fairytales were real, that you could be the prince and sweep me off my feet, but I know that isn’t the real world, and simply a fantasy I’ve held onto. I wish you a lifetime of happiness, Mulder, whatever success means to you now: wealth or happiness.; hopefully both. I long for you to find what truly makes you happy. I’ve enclosed my address. I couldn’t bring myself to give you my number, because if I were to hear your voice, well, I don’t know what would happen. I fell for you, Fox Mulder, and I fell hard. I know the feelings are not reciprocated; how could they be? People from two very different worlds. Anyway, I’m rambling. If you are ever in the area again for business, look me up. Maybe when enough time passes, I’ll be in a place where I can see you, knowing I can’t be with you, and be okay with it. What do you say? Ten or so years? Just kidding… kind of. I hope you have a safe flight and know that I will never forget you.

All my love,

Scully

Mulder reads and re-reads her letter, sighing heavily.

“You’re a fool,” he hears from the front seat.

“Excuse me?” he responds, looking into the mirror to see Langly’s eyes.

“Mulder, dude, I’ve known you for a very long time, long before I started working for you. You’re a great businessman, but you’ve never been one to accept good things in your life outside of work,” he informs him. Mulder sighs, knowing the truth when it confronts him.

“Don’t you want to be happy?” Langly questions.

“She doesn’t want me,” he states. Langly rolls his eyes in the mirror. “She doesn’t. If she did, she would be in the car with me,” Mulder continues, ignoring the eye roll.

“Mulder, maybe she needs you to say it in black and white. Maybe she wants to see just how far you’ll go for her?” he suggests.

Mulder ponders this for a minute. He has health, he has wealth, and all that’s missing is someone to share it with. If he looks into his future, he doesn’t see much, but he clearly sees Dana Scully as a part of it.

“Langly, can you find this address?” he tosses up the letter with the enclosed address. Glancing at it, Langly smiles and makes a U-Turn. Mulder leans into his seat and waits.

Hollywood Boulevard

6:02 pm

So this is what unimaginable pain feels like, Scully thinks, sinking defeatedly into her oversize couch. She got home from the hotel and immediately broke down, the freeing tears finally flowing. She can’t get Mulder out of her thoughts. Even the scent of him is present on her clothes. At her sister’s distraught appearance, Missy offered to run out and get food, however, she’d be back any minute. As hard as it will be, Scully feels the best thing she can do is leave the city entirely. She hadn’t lied to Mulder about the GED; she very much wants to better her life and finish high school, then go to college. However, she needs to plan in digestible chunks, and the first step is leaving these memories behind.

She closes her eyes and thinks of the week, of the changes she’s made in such a short period of time. It’s amazing that she was able to meet someone, fall in love, and technically break up, all in the span of five days. She shakes her head, clearing her thoughts. It will be better once she is away from here, though she knows she will miss Missy fiercely. Who knows, maybe one day she’ll come back.

The sound of keys in the lock brings her back to the present.

“Hot and steamy chicken fried rice,” Missy calls, edging the door shut with her foot.

“I appreciate the gesture, Melissa, but I told you before, I’m not really that hungry.”

A car horn honks in the distance.

Melissa waves Scully’s words away. “You need to eat. Look, Dana, you’re not going anywhere tonight. I understand this sudden urge to up and leave, really, I do, but you need to take a minute, digest what happened this week, and then decide. You can stay here and get your GED. At least we would still have each other.”

The horn honks again and they each throw an irritated glance toward the window.

“Thanks, Missy. I know you mean well, but I think this is something I need to do,” she explains, heading towards the table, the smell of the food suddenly slightly appealing.

*Honk Honk*

“Seriously, what the heck is their problem,” Missy states, irritation written all over her face. She makes for the window to holler at the catalyst of the unfortunate sound. Silence follows her.

“What is it, Miss?” Scully asks, following Missy’s footsteps to the balcony.

“It, uh—well, I think it’s for you,” Missy responds, pointing a finger in the direction of the horn.

Several stories below, a black limousine sits parked, Mulder’s handsome and kind face emerging from the open roof. Scully’s jaw feels like it drops ten stories, though in reality it simply hangs open.

“Oh my god, Mulder? What are you doing here?” she yells down, now leaning far out her window. Missy elbows her, attempting to get a better view.

“You lied, Scully,” he yells up to them. Even from below, he knows she’s arching an eyebrow.

“About what, exactly?” she counters.

Mulder ducks into the limo and a moment later, the car door opens. He’s standing on the sidewalk, flowers in hand, continuing to look up at the apartment, and talk to her as though she’s standing right next to him.

“When you said maybe with enough time passing. Scully, no amount of time passing will make me forget about you and how I feel about you.” He begins striding toward the building.

Scully, who is in a bit of shock, mixed with a small amount of panic, feels a hand on her back, guiding her through the small window and onto the fire escape. She looks back at her sister, her warm smile and nod of encouragement are all she needs. She steps onto the hard metal and regains eye contact with Mulder.

“What if you could have it all, Scully? Everything you talked about? Everything you want? The fairytale. He pulls the ladder down and it loosens with a groan. Without a second thought, Mulder begins to climb, higher and higher, determined to reach the woman of his dreams.

“Mulder, what are you doing? You’re crazy! You hate heights,” she says, though her grin betrays her worry. She reaches her arms out and is finally able to pull Mulder to her.

“Overcoming the fear is worth it if it leads me to you, Scully,” he says before taking her lips with his. He pulls her into his embrace.

“So what happens now, Mulder?” she asks after they pull apart.

She beams up at him, suddenly seeing the future so clearly, and chastising herself for wanting to give up on it.

“They live happily ever after, of course,” he states before kissing her again.

#dana scully #fox mulder #the x files fanfic #x files #au fanfiction #msr #msr fanfic #fairy tales #happily ever after #can’t live without you #soul mates

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nightimedreamersworld · 2 years

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Wip wednesday

Thank you for the tags today, lovelies @artsyunderstudy @ionlydrinkhotwater @facewithoutheart @confused-bi-queer ❤️ always a delight to see your wips!

Sooo prompt fest starts tomorrow and I have nothing to show for it 😅 still chipping away at my three (!) Wips, so here's a bit from the same one I shared last time:

Lady Ruth

My husband taught me everything there is to know about family heirlooms.

It’s not like I’d been clueless about them, before. I come from an Old Family myself—when I was young, my mother gave me a pair of enchanted reading glasses, which was given to her by my grandmother, who got it from her mother, and so on. Magic passed down through generations, treasured and polished by time.

But my family wasn’t as old as the Salisburys, and we certainly didn't have as many secrets.

My Andrew held my hand as we trudged this room together, many years ago—we spent days holed up among tall piles of boxes, and he unraveled the tales of each and every item stored in them.

He had a legitimate Excalibur—forged by Merlin himself. One of our ancestors sat around the Round Table and wielded it side by side with King Arthur.

I am not a melancholy woman. I thought I could handle dusting off these old boxes, emptying them. I don't have any use for most of these things anymore…

And yet it fills my heart with pain, to imagine giving it all away.

(I still don't have a title for this, but the first chapter is almost ready!)

And a bit from another one of my WIPs, post-AWTWB:

Baz

I burst through the doors of the Weeping Tower, only to find the hall empty.

Penelope halts to a stop beside me, her ring hand pointed and already glowing with magic, a spell on the tip of her tongue.

We stare at each other for a bit.

“Shouldn’t they—”

“Simon said—”

“Well, Simon was clearly wrong—”

Her head snaps from side to side, and she dashes to the lift’s door, pressing the button with insistent inefficiency.

“We’ll get my mother,” Bunce says. “She’ll know—”

“No,” I cut her off. My mind is racing, digging through every little bit of information Smith-Richards threw at us over the last week. Circe, why didn’t I pay more attention to what that charlatan was saying?! “By the time we get her, it might already be too late.”

Aiming to start posting as soon as possible! For now, have a few late tags:

@bookish-bogwitch @ivelovedhimthroughworse @cutestkilla @martsonmars @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @tea-brigade @palimpsessed ❤️

#simon snow series #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz

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your-local-grubdog · 2 years

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Fragile Things Chapter 14: What If You Move On Without Me?

"What if I found the way back, But you weren't there?" - Centaur World, I've Been Looking for You

Decided to do something different with the images, hope you guys like it!

HUGE thank-you to @random-pikmin-fan who asked to draw this chapter's art!!! Here's a link to her Ao3 as well.

Oh yeah a link to the Ao3 post okay lets start the chapter already!

Olimar and Louie were laughing as they trekked across the Perplexing Pool.

"That stupid slime ball didn't stand a damn chance against us!" Louie was beaming, a few pikmin taking a joy ride on his helmet.

"Yeah! It seemed attracted to the light of our beacons… so it didn't know who to turn to!"

"Wonder why…? Say, what did you end up calling it anyways?"

"Ranging Bloyster! It seemed to fit, looking so much like a Today Bloyster but big."

"Yeah, that works. I guess "big blobby bastard" isn't appropriate as a species name, huh?"

Olimar burst out laughing more at that. "No, it isn't. A shame too, you had good alliteration with that name."

"... I'll pretend I know what that means and let myself be proud."

The captain simply rolled his eyes at that as they entered base. "Well, ready to go home kiddo?"

They had finally repaid the debt. After almost two weeks of non-stop work, they were done. They were done! More than done in fact - they were only part way through the cave when they hit their goal. Still, they had to finish it as there was no other way to leave. But now they could finally go home. After all these weeks, Olimar could just fall against his wife and let the bad memories of this planet fade. Snuggled into her arms, nothing could hurt him.

Before they entered the ship though, Olimar stopped. He turned to the pikmin. This was it… he may never see them again. Well, he also thought that last time. Hopefully, then, the next time he saw them was on his own accord and in better circumstances. Kneeling down to their level, Olimar held his arms open. "Hey, I'm leaving now… it may be a long while. Okay?"

He didn't understand the pikmin just yet, and they did not fully understand their leaders in turn. Still, the pikmin seemed to know what was happening. This was it, their goal was completed, so they were leaving. With joyful squeaks and eyes full of tears, the pikmin ran for Olimar and Louie both to get hugs. Both Hocotations yelped and fell over as the pikmin kept piling up, desperately trying to get their share of affection.

They sat like that for a while, laughing and crying slightly as they shared their good-byes. Many squeaks from the pikmin were repeated: "Foe-lata! Too voe mo! Foe-lata!"

It was the same thing they said when he left in his Dolphin all those weeks ago. "Too voe mo" was something he heard oh so often. He knew it was important, he just didn't know what it meant. "Goodbye, little ones…" Olimar cooed, stroking back stems. "I love you. Please take care, okay?"

The pikmin didn't really respond, just repeating their little squeaks. That was fine, Olimar had essentially done the same thing.

He couldn't let this go on forever though. He stood up, letting the pikmin squeeze in some final goodbyes, and turned to Louie. The younger man was covered in pikmin as well, and so Olimar had to help him up and peel the overly affectionate carrots off of him. They then climbed aboard the ship.

Olimar headed straight for the control panel, already plotting a course back home. It'd take a few minutes, but it would ensure their safety. It was more than worth it. A few extra minutes spent was fine.

"Plotting course back to Hocotate, you ready Louie?"

"Yes Sir! I'll head to the kitchen and prepare dinner."

"I appreciate it, kiddo." Olimar hummed as he spoke, light chuffs escaping him. He could already see Rose, Nova, Luna, and Bulbie so clearly in his mind's eye… the tales he could tell of his adventure, the rest he could finally have. Maybe he could take them all out somewhere nice. It didn't matter where they went or what they did, just so long as they were together. He then turned his head towards the ship's exit. Odd… he could've sworn he heard the sounds of Louie talking and a pikmin squeaking. Yet no one was there. Maybe he was just so used to those noises, his mind was filling in the blanks of the quiet ship? Speaking of the kid, maybe he'd invite Louie! Introduce him to his family, slowly integrate him in. He wasn't sure how they would react, but he wanted to try. No matter what, he at least would always consider him family.

With Louie in the kitchen and the pikmin in their onions, Olimar had the ship take flight.

He stood by the panel as the ship flew, just in case. If something happened he'd rather be right here to take manual control of the vessel. Thus, he waited until the ship was safely out of the atmosphere and preparing for hyper drive before heading over to the kitchen. "Hey buddy, what did you decide to make?" He asked as he poked his head in.

But Louie wasn't there.

Odd, but maybe he was just in storage to grab a beast. That would make sense. He decided to turn and climb down there, scanning the large room for his co-worker.

But Louie wasn't there either.

Panicking a bit now, Olimar rushed back up the ladder to do a quick scan of the main floor. Bedrooms were empty, bathroom was empty, the ship was empty. Panic began to take hold of Olimar, forcing him to lean against a wall as his head spun and he struggled for breath. No, no no no no no - shit, that must of been Louie earlier then!

"S-ship-" he struggled to get his words out, his chest was just too tight and he was losing all sense of balance. His speech was barely a breath, certainly not loud enough for anyone to hear let alone some cheap microphone.

"Engaging hyperdrive." The monotone voice of the ship rang.

"N-NO!" Olimar finally caught his breath, adrenaline pumping through him. "NO, SHIP STOP-!"

"Hm?" The more animated of the ship's voices replied. "It's too late to stop captain-"

"I said to fucking stop NOW!" He practically screamed, fur standing on end. "LOUIE'S NOT ON BOARD!"

The ship was quiet for a long time before responding. "I-I'm sorry, Captain-"

"NO YOU'RE NOT! BECAUSE YOU ARE GOING TO FUCKING STOP AND TURN BACK TO GET HIM-"

"I can't, Sir. It's too dangerous to disengage hyperdrive early. We'll have to wait till we return to Hocotate and turn around-"

"NO! NO WE'RE NOT FUCKING DOING THAT - IT'LL TAKE A WEEK TO GET THERE AND BACK!" Olimar slammed his fist against the ship wall. "I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE DANGER, WE NEED TO GET HIM NOW BEFORE SOMETHING ELSE GETS HIM!"

"Sir, I can't-"

"YES YOU CA-"

"If I stop now the chance of crashing into something is too high. At this speed, the crash would destroy me and kill you instantly. Then he'll be stuck there longer as people wait to realize we're not coming back." The ship then seemed to sigh. "I don't like this any more than you do, trust me, but it's our only option."

Olimar buried his face into his hands, nails digging into his skin slightly as he just screamed. He pulled his hands down slightly, leaving small white scratches his fur hid, before slamming his hand against the wall again. This time he flinched, pulling his hand back and looking at the bright mark left from it. He leaned against the wall then, slowly falling to the floor.

"... again, Sir, I'm s-"

"Did you not check to see if he was here?!? Notice him leaving?!?"

"No, Sir, I didn't. My RAM was taken up making sure necessary systems were online and setting up the hyperdrive. There was no way for me to "notice" him leaving the ship, thus no record either."

Not enough fucking RAM?!? He knew his boss was starting to cut more and more corners with the ships and even their suits, but that was just… he didn't have words to describe his anger. He didn't have the energy to be angry anymore. The captain began to tremble, curling into himself. "W-what have I done…?"

"Olimar. You didn't do anything wrong. So many little things led to this, you couldn't have predicted them all happening at the same time. It was pure bad luck. No one is responsible, least of all you."

Olimar just shook his head though as his eyes began to water. "I- I left the boy there. I - I left him behind!"

"Olimar-"

"I've seen what nocturnal predators can do to pikmin in mere minutes, h-he won't even last a day there!"

"... we'll get him no matter what. But he has the pikmin, I do believe he'll hold out until we arrive."

The captain kept shaking his head though. "I don't - I don't know. I'm terrified. And I just left him!

"Olimar, it's not your fault-"

"I'm the captain!" He snapped back. "I'm responsible for everyone! I'm supposed to keep them safe!" His ears leaned back as he shook more. "And all I've done is forget about him entirely and get pikmin killed."

"... you also saved a lot of pikmin." The ship offered. "They still followed you. It'd be very easy for them to leave. But you never broke their trust. I promise, you'll get Louie back as well-"

"Don't promise that." Olimar hissed. "Please, I just -" he shook his head, shaking more now. He didn't know what to do. "Please leave me alone…"

The ship was quiet for a moment. "I will pester you to get food, water, rest, and the like. But I will leave you to yourself if that's what you want."

Olimar huffed, but he couldn't argue against the ship just trying to keep him functioning. "Fine, fine… thank you."

"Of course, Olimar."

The captain slowly stood up, heading for his room. He stumbled in, head pounding and eyes burning, then reached up for something on his loft bed. He pulled the little space blanket down, just staring at it for a moment. It was so small, and so soft. He gently rubbed a thumb on it, looking over all the little stars and rockets plastered all over the thing. It once belonged to Nova, but now Olimar couldn't help but associate it with both of his boys. Both of them he left behind, one on a deadly hell world and the other to grow up largely without him as he worked to the bone to keep him fed. Letting out a broken wail, he slid against the wall and onto the floor again as he curled around the tiny blanket, burying his face in it as he sobbed uncontrollably.

#borb writes #pikmin #louie pikmin #captain olimar #star touched au #pikmin star touched

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janiceloreen · 1 year

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(Warning: medically explicit, and to serve a reminder to men that this post is no laughing matter, and the issue cannot be ignored, so please take very good care of yourself in good health!)

I said I was going to write more posts,……..but it was two months ago. Greeting 2023 was not all I expected and it came down to simply a medical halt in my family. Two days after Christmas, my husband started to not feel well, and complained of a dull soreness “down there” (groin/penis area). I took a look at his area and knew this wasn’t good. The area was red and swelling. Husband went to see the doctor the same day in the afternoon. The doctor was a lady, and without checking his area and ordering bloodwork, she jumped to conclusion that he has STDS and told him to “stop sleeping around”. He looked at her in disbelief, as he saw she gave him a bad judgmental, rude manner attitude. So, she did not do much for him but to send him home and get better. By New Year’s Eve, it got worse that he got admitted overnight at the local small town hospital for IV antibiotics and monitoring. By morning, on New Year’s day, i had to drive my husband to the city hospital 2 hours from home (don’t worry, my boys are old enough to care for the house, and my neighbours checked on them like as if there are no parties being held) to be seen by a urologist. I stayed by his side.

Within 4 hours in ER, with ultrasound and CT scan completed, the urologist/surgeon came to see my husband and told him he needs an emergency surgery that night as the scan showed the unexplained injury to his penis and scrotum and the swelling from UTI that needed to be brought down to normal. My husband’s cousin texted me to come to her house in the city for supper while he underwent surgery. She and her family had the guest room ready for me to stay overnight. The surgery lasted three hours to repair the damage as well to drain the infection. So his cousin and I went back to the hospital that night to see my husband as he was out of recovery from surgery and wheeled to his own room. It seemed that while he was happy to see his cousin and talked a lot with nurses, he didn’t seem to remember I was here. I try not to let it bother me, so I had to prepare myself to be a caregiver to him.

That night, I didn’t sleep well at all. It wasn’t the guest bed that was not comfy. It was dreams of changes in routines that I have to put way more effort to helping my husband recover. By morning, my husband’s cousin put together cranberry juice and snacks to keep my husband happy and occupied in the hospital for a few days. Husband wanted me to go home and care for our boys while he was in good hands of nurses who changed his dressings twice a day every single day. He spent a good six days in hospital until discharge day as I drove back to the city to take him home. The local pharmacist prepared the prescriptions for him upon getting home. Everyday, he has to have his dressings changed to keep his incisions clean and infection free. In week mornings, he has to go to the homecare office to get his dressings changed. Weeknights and weekends, he has to go to the local hospital for the nurses to change his dressings. I had to drive him twice a day, which threw me off on the routines. He was the breadwinner of the household, and because he cannot work until further notice, I had no choice but to go back to the workforce on a part time position, cleaning rooms at a luxury chain hotel. Would you believe I lost 60 pounds in a month, cleaning up to 15 rooms within 8 hours per day? Not sustainable on my weight loss, but at least I’m not a heavy woman now.

I’ll continue my story as bed is calling me.

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sunspray-peak · 1 year

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Ch. 6: Can You Tell the Difference?

SUNDAY - SPRING 7

After resolutely declaring to himself that he would never go down the mines or into the forest he had since learned was Cindersap ever again—no magic, no gelatinous slimes, no wilderness, no distractions, no thank you, I like my wildlife domesticated—Achilles had spent the week recovering from his fall within the safe confines of Strawberry Farms.

If he had had his way, he would’ve been out on the land the very next day. But a nasty pain in his upper back had kept him chained to his desk, and so, searching for other ways to maximize his productivity and make up for any lost time, he had spent the week finalizing blueprints and putting together shopping lists.

Flower seeds, new wallpaper, new fences, new wood, paint stripper, new paint, paint brushes, mulch—just a few of the 43 bullets scrawled in his notebook.

He was more than ready to order it all with 2 day delivery and jump right into the “Official Renovation & Modernization of Strawberry Farms” (the official mission’s name, according to the post-it note on his mirror). He had even spent the past few days sketching out possible layouts and garden arrangements—who needed a landscape architecture degree when you had the Internet, right? Even if it was the slowest Yoba-damned signal on the planet…

But none of that mattered right now. Because first, as he sourly remembered, he had to clear the farm of its debris.

He had always been inclined to do things himself when he could, and this chore was no different. After hobbling about the property three days ago to confirm his original measurements, he had concluded that, despite having little to no on-the-ground experience, perhaps it could be—fun, was not quite the right word, but maybe a “worthy challenge”—to not outsource all the work.

And so, after his morning jog (a habit he had formed six years ago that would take more than some bruises and leftover soreness to break), he made his way over to Pierre’s to grab his usual lavender earl grey and some yard gloves.

“It wouldn’t hurt you to plant some cauliflower, you know,” the store manager said, nostrils flaring ever so slightly as he adjusted his glasses.

“Flowers over function, Pierre.” Achilles handed over the $6.75. “I’m trying to sell this thing.”

“And what better way to sell than to show off its farming capabilities!” Pierre held Achilles’ tea hostage in his hands, and, ignoring Achilles’ response regarding maintenance, turned to his other shoppers for support. “Alex, Haley, tell this man he needs to plant some cauliflower.”

A very pretty blonde had just appeared around the corner of the baked goods aisle, a yoga mat and blocks tucked under her arms. She merely shot a withering look towards the counter, but whether it was intended for Achilles or Pierre, Achilles wasn’t quite sure.

“Achilles, you really need to plant some cauliflower!” Alex popped out from behind the woman, cradling a dozen eggs and what seemed to be Haley’s purse—a small pastel blue thing that Achilles couldn’t help but immediately recognize as last season’s Kelly Heart. Good ol’ Kelly, she’d be happy to see her designs out in the Ferngill countryside…

The overall sight of Alex holding the woman’s purse, however, elicited a flash of annoyance—or was it jealousy?—in Achilles. But he quickly shrugged it off as Alex introduced his companion. “You haven’t met Haley, have you?”

She offered him her hand, but with her palm and fingers facing down as if she expected Achilles to kneel and kiss it. “So you’re the new farmer boy, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t call myself a farmer,” Achilles said, refusing to bend down and instead grasping her fingers delicately and giving them a single light shake before stepping back. “Achilles, it’s nice to meet you.”

Haley flashed a tight, perfectly glossed smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes as she placed a boxed fruit salad on the counter. “Oh, right. You’re an author, Alex mentioned it…” As Pierre counted out her change, she looked back at Achilles, her eyes widening ever so slightly as she nodded at his button down. “Is that Toutes Les Filles?”

“Oh. Yes. You’re familiar?” Achilles worked to keep the surprise out of his tone—didn’t want to come across as patronizing—but he had been somewhat impressed. The shirt was from a collection that had dropped only two weeks ago.

She nodded without looking at him, taking her quarters from Pierre. “Emily is, more than me, but I learn. How nice.”

With another tight lipped smile, she took back her purse and left the men, making her way further into the general store where, Pierre explained, Caroline held a yoga class three times a week for just $5, if he’d ever like to join.

“My tea, Pierre. Please.” Achilles nodded curtly at the cup still on the cashier’s side of the counter.

“Ah, yes, of course… oh, I’ll make you another if you want to give one to Lewis.” Before Achilles could respond, the general store manager began pouring another steaming cup. “It’s his birthday today. You tell me yours and I’ll put it on the calendar outside.”

“Does Lewis even like tea?” Achilles asked wryly, fishing in his pocket for another $1.25. Another day having failed to sell seeds, it seemed Pierre would be damned if he couldn’t milk at least another dollar from Achilles in some way or another.

“Oh yeah, loves it.” Pierre ripped open a tiny pack of sugar. “So when’s the birthday?”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Fall 27—don’t think I’ll still be here by the time that rolls around.” He made to leave, but stopped when he heard Alex’s outburst.

“Spirit’s Eve!” The boy had reemerged from the baking aisle. “What a coincidence!”

Pierre frowned. “No, Alex, you were born in Summer.”

“Ohhhh whoops, I see, thank you, Pierre.” Alex dropped some chocolate chips and flour alongside his eggs onto the counter. “No, I mean it’s a coincidence ‘cause Fall 27 is also Spirit’s Eve.”

Pierre gazed blankly between the two boys.

“Because of his books? Cause they’re all… spooky…?”

Pierre smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh! I see.”

He definitely does not see.

“$5.34 please.”

Alex grimaced, but Achilles, standing several feet behind, allowed himself a small smile at this brief, but insistent, bit of recognition.

It turned out, Sebastian had also been a fan of his books—he’d even read Apparition—but Seb, (unfortunately, for Achilles’ ego) hadn’t been the fanboy type. He had simply said to him in private, “Had a big Henry Spector phase. Apparition deserved better.” And that was it.

Achilles, at least, had the self-awareness to recognize he didn’t particularly deserve any further acknowledgment, but still… like, yes, Seb, he had thought saltily after the brief conversation. Give us nothing!

“I swear I’m not a stalker, I don’t, like, know everything about you,” Alex said as the two turned to leave the general store.

“I wouldn’t call knowing the genre of my books stalker behavior.” Achilles pushed open the door with his shoulder, sniffing the teas to make sure which was which before downing his earl grey. His ego wasn’t the only thing parched.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true… hey, what are you up to this afternoon? I’ve got today off if you wanna do anything. No pressure, though.”

Achilles missed a step, nearly sloshing tea over his $250 shirt.

“Oh.” He quickly licked the lid and smoothly straightened himself up before raising the second cup. “Delivering this to Lewis, apparently. But I was planning on getting started on clearing the farm. Lost a few days with everything, and, well… quite a bit to do there if I want to get it sold by end of Summer.”

Alex stopped abruptly. “You’re not planning on staying?”

“Oh, yeah, no, that was the whole thing with Pierre and the cauliflower just now. I’ve lived in the city my whole life, I don’t know if I’d love it here long term. It’s… different.”

“I thought you said you were coming out here for a fresh start!”

“I am!” Achilles attempted to scratch his nose with his free pinkie. “But not in like… the ‘life’ way.”

“What other way is there?”

“Like… in a… career… way…?” It was like being back in a pitch and being asked a question he hadn’t prepared for. Hell, it was like his meeting with Rasmodius. Except this time, with this man, he was unable to bullshit his way out of it. Achilles averted his gaze. “I told you I quit advertising. I don’t know, I figured maybe I’d try out… real estate…?”

He was just making things up as he went now. Just hurtling down a road without a destination in mind—you didn’t see this coming? Of course people are going to ask you what your plan it. Idiot!

He shoved the thought aside.

“Real estate? So you’re just fixing up the farm to sell it? To some outsider?”

Achilles winced. “I’m afraid so.”

Those large, green eyes gazed sadly into Achilles’ own. It was almost rather too sad and pathetic, in Achilles’ astute opinion—clearly a well-practiced performance from a man used to using it to get whatever he wanted. The attention and concern were flattering, even if faked, but Achilles made sure to hold the faux-despair at arm’s length even as he felt his heart melt ever so slightly.

“And here I was, ready to offer to help you fix it up. But now…” Alex looked at his feet, shaking his head somberly.

“Oh…”

“Nah, I’m just kidding.” Alex looked up, blinked once, and continued walking, the abrupt transition confirming, to Achilles’ ever so slight chagrin, it had indeed likely been an act. “I’ll drop these off at my place and meet you by Lewis’ if that works—maybe we can grab some tools from Clint.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hey, does it feel like I’m betraying the Valley by preparing the farm for enemy hands? Yeah. But do I also need something to get me out of the house today so that my grandpa doesn’t yell at me to re-mow our 1 inch tall lawn? Also yes. So you’re in luck.”

*****

Lewis, who was out tending his flower beds, had thanked him for the tea which was now resting next to an open bag of mulch. Much like Pierre, he quickly transitioned into attempting to persuade Achilles to actually use his farm to, well, farm, citing with a slightly deranged wave of his arms (Achilles taking a polite step back to avoid the spade in his hand) that “It’ll be real great for the wider community to see old Strawberry Farms up and running again.”

But Achilles merely smiled politely and dodged the argument much like how he dodged the spade, smoothly stating he first had to clear the land before anyone could think about farming anything anyway.

“That’s a big job for just you,” Lewis said, eyeing him closely.

“Alex offered to help.”

“Eh. You bring those hooligans with you, too,” Lewis said, nodding at Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian who had just careened down the cobblestone path from Sam’s house up towards the general store. “Why don’t you show ‘em how an upstanding member of the community acts.”

*****

Across the river, Achilles met Clint the blacksmith, a rather strange, stout man of very few words. Those of which did make it out of his mouth were mumbled, and Achilles had to ask the man to repeat himself several times. Nevertheless, he seemed happy enough to let Achilles and Alex carry away some tools—axes and pickaxes and scythes for the waist high weeds that were snaking all along the land—and refused any payment.

“Just, er… bring ‘em back, is all,” Clint muttered nervously, avoiding eye contact.

Alex agreed with Lewis that they could use the help. The trio were easy enough to find—one just had to follow the sounds of raucous laughter to the public park (aptly called Pelican Park) right by the community center. Abigail, who had recovered incredibly quickly from her justifiable meltdown five days ago, was more than eager to help clear the farm, and as Achilles had been quick to learn, whatever she did, the other two were typically willing to do as well (or be bullied into it).

“It’s kind of a shame, really,” Abigail said as the group made their way onto the Strawberry Farms. Her eyes, rather wistful, swept the property. “I always enjoyed exploring these overgrown fields.”

“Pardon?”

Abigail took the scythe Alex had offered her and proceeded to pass it on to Sebastian. “Oh yeah,” she reiterated without a trace of shame. She reached for a pickaxe (“Gotta built up that upper body strength, Alex! You of all people should get it.”). “The three of us spent quite a lot of time around here before you came around.”

Achilles grimaced, pushing aside the various worst case scenarios that had popped into his head. Illegal drug stashing? Ritualistic sacrifice? Buried bodies?

“Don’t worry, I never heard of any weird orgies being held on your farm,” Alex whispered, handing Achilles an axe. “Or, at least, I was never invited to any.”

“Thank you for that.”

His research had informed him the city would pick up any debris and trimmings from Clint’s, so he had ordered a few wheelbarrows and stationed them strategically about the property.

After outlining his plan to the ragtag group (not that there was too much of one with as straightforward a goal as clearing the land), they split up, Abigail and Sam to tackle some small boulders towards the west, Sebastian down to the pond where the surrounding weeds had been particularly bad, and Alex and Achilles over by the dilapidated greenhouse to break down the numerous stray branches and way overgrown oak and maple saplings.

Now, Achilles had never held an axe before in his life. Why would he have ever needed to? To prepare for the scenario, he had watched as many videos that would buffer (meaning two) the night before and had read multiple step by step tutorials. But now, with the wooden handle actually in his hands, he wasn’t quite sure he was doing any of it right.

He gave a couple of awkward practice swings—nope, that was definitely not it, he desperately thought as the axe nearly slipped out of his grasp.

He eyed Alex who had already started chopping a few feet away, and immediately changed his stance, moving his hands closer together towards the bottom of the handle. A couple more practice swings… Nice. Nice. That already felt lightyears better.

And he didn’t even have to ask for help.

*****

“I’m pretty impressed, city boy.” Alex rested his axe against the only greenhouse wall that was still standing, cracked and dingy as it was. He ran his hand through his hair, slightly futzing with the gel as a few strands came loose. Seemed to be a habit. “We’re doing pretty good work.”

He was right. They had been making better progress than Achilles had anticipated—it had only been a couple of hours and one of their two designated wheelbarrows was already filled to the brim with wood.

Doesn’t hurt I’ve got a literal Greek god helping me. Yoba, seeing Alex’s arms swing that axe…

“Pretty impressed, you said, hmm?” Achilles handed him a bottle of water, having just come back from delivering rations to the rest of the troops who, judging by the state of their wheelbarrows, had been significantly less productive. “Didn’t think I’d keep up?”

Alex flashed a grin and shrugged, twisting off the cap and chugging half the bottle in a series of rapid gulps before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Hey. What’d you play?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like what sport did you play?”

“I can’t just be naturally athletic?”

“You can, but I’ve been watching, I can tell the difference.”

Ah. Achilles’ heart skipped a beat. So he’d been watching.

“Well, you know I run.” After accidentally passing Alex at the bus stop on Thursday, he had been timing his morning jogs with a bit more care. No one looks cooler than someone at the very start of their run (maximum energy but minimum sweat, you see).

“Yeah, but there’s more to it, isn’t there?” Alex lifted the corner of his shirt to wipe a speck of sweat off his forehead—Achilles quickly turned aside to drink from his own water. In his worn out state, he didn’t trust himself not to accidentally stare. “It’s been awhile, but you definitely played something more… is organized the right word? Like for school?”

“Hmm, yeah, it’s been a bit,” Achilles admitted, twisting the cap of his bottle back on. “Tennis.”

“Ahh…”

“I was a fencer too, but I really haven’t done that in years.”

“Fencing? Like with the swords and stuff?”

Achilles nodded, tossing his bottle between his hands. “They only weigh about a pound though, or at least a foil does.”

Alex shook his head in disbelief. “I didn’t know people actually did that in real life.”

“Oh yes, believe it or not, young man, we fencers do actually exist outside of television.” Achilles raised his pinky and pretended to take another sip. “A sport long lost among you country folk, but the practice of which has long lasting, significant impact on the fencers form and figure, of which you may have observed.”

He had wanted to call Alex out more directly for watching him—tease him, ask him why—but it had felt too forward. Too flirtatious. Which typically wasn’t a problem for Achilles, but at this stage of his life, right here, right now, it wasn’t what he wanted. Or needed. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but slide that last phrase into his retort and wait to see if Alex would take the bait.

“Oh yeah, I did observe.” At Alex’s confirmation, Achilles’ heart began to race—only to instantly drop into his stomach and dissolve into a small pathetic pool of acid. “Had no choice. Don’t know much about fencing form, but man, your axe handling? Had to make sure you weren’t about to accidentally chop my legs off—don’t think I didn’t notice you watching me at the beginning of all this trying to figure out how to hold one correctly.” Mischief danced in Alex’s eyes as he took another drink.

Ah. Well, Achilles had had to make swifter recoveries before in the conference room.

“I see. So you saw me struggle and decided to say nothing—you understand you’d have no one to blame but yourself if I sliced your legs off?”

Alex whipped the rest of his water at Achilles.

*****

The hardy little group toiled throughout the day, pausing only for lunch. Achilles had been ready to call in a delivery order, but Sam’s little brother, Vincent, had arrived at 1pm with a large tray of various sandwiches, courtesy of their mother, Jodi.

By late afternoon, they had not only filled all the wheelbarrows and lugged them into Pelican Town and across the river to Clint’s, but had also made several neat stacks of debris to make tomorrow’s haul easier.

“But looks like we hardly did a damn thing,” Sebastian remarked, as the group stood on the porch to survey the day’s hard work. And it was arguably true—in the grand scheme of the mess his grandpa had left behind, it looked as if they had only scratched the surface.

“Hey don’t be a debbie downer.” Abigail nudged Sebastian with her shoulder. “We did lots of stuff.”

“Sure…”

“Won’t be able to help as much tomorrow, I’m afraid,” Alex said. “But I can try to swing by after work if you’re going late?”

“Same,” said Sam who, Achilles had learned, was working at JojaMart alongside Shane. Abigail also chimed in, happy to help after her online lectures.

Sebastian, whom Achilles knew managed his own programming business and therefore managed his own hours, did not volunteer. But that wasn’t unexpected.

Not a hint of muscle on that guy.

“No.” Achilles shook his head. He reached for their tools, stacking them along the porch wall. “Don’t worry about it—you shouldn’t have to do more work after your real work. I’ll figure out a plan.”

In fact, he had actually already figured out the aforementioned plan, not that it was much of a plan than a mere continuation. But a little mental math and an approximation of how much they had gotten done today (actually quite a bit more than Sebastian’s cursory glance could discern) and he estimated he could actually finish clearing the farm about three quarters of the way into the season, even if it were just him alone every day (worst case scenario). And that fit well enough within his “Official Renovation & Modernization of Strawberry Farms” timeline.

All was good. There would just be something to do every day, but that’s what he wanted, right?

The group merrily made to exit the farm—all had refused compensation, so Achilles was treating them to a hearty, well-deserved dinner at the saloon—when something caught Achilles’ eye.

“Do you see that?” He whipped around and pointed at the orange wheelbarrow resting by the greenhouse.

“Huh?”

“See what?”

“I’m hungry.”

Brows furrowed, Achilles squinted through the setting sun’s rays. He could’ve sworn he had seen something there—something round, the size of a basketball perhaps, and purple. Definitely visible against the orange bin. Sure, he was tired as hell, just like he had been that day he first arrived, but he was confident this time. It wasn’t an exhaustion-induced hallucination. Something was there.

“I swear, it was… bouncing.” He pointed again. But nobody, including himself, could make anything, bouncing or otherwise, out.

“Yeah, I don’t see anything, bro.” Sam clapped him on the back. “Come on. Sounds like you need some food in ya.”

*****

“Your mom is Apolline Desrosiers!”

Achilles glanced up at the blue haired girl who had come to take their order. “Hmm? Oh. Yes, she is.”

“Oh my god, she’s amazing.”

He set the menu he had been examining down and began to pour himself a glass of water from the jug this willowy waitress had brought over. “Yes, I suppose she is.”

“Haley was telling me about you—I’m sorry, I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection earlier, I’m in love with her work, and like, what she’s done for sustainability in the industry—ugh, I’m sorry, Apolline is just, like, one of my heroes.”

“One of mine, too, really,” Achilles said with a smile that he supposed was only half-forced. “But I suppose I can forgive you. I’ve been told I look more like my father, and we obviously don’t share a last name.”

“Maybe not officially—” Alex said in a carrying whisper to nobody in particular as Achilles rose from his seat and leaned over to offer his hand.

“Achilles, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh geeze, of course, sorry.” The girl shoved her notepad into her apron and took his hand. “Emily, I’m Haley’s sister. It’s great to meet you. So…” She looked around the table. “Y’all ready to order?”

The saloon’s fare seemed to err on the heavier side, but Achilles managed to find a risotto that sounded nice enough.

“…and two lemonades. Great, I’ll have those drinks out for you in a minute, you guys let me know if you need anything else in the meantime. And Achilles—you’re going to love it here in Pelican Town, I can read it on your face.” With a friendly wink, Emily walked back to the bar.

“Apolline Desrosiers… why did you take your mother’s name for your books?” Sebastian asked, pouring himself a second glass from the pitcher. “Trying to distance yourself from your dad?”

Achilles rested his elbows on the table and neatly folded his straw wrapper.

“Nah, Robinson is common enough as it is, and I doubt any casual reader would make the connection since he writes for television anyway… Honest answer?” Achilles tucked his smile into his glass, watched the waiting crowd as he took a long gulp—anything to build what was a rather undramatic reveal just a bit more. “Because then my first and last names would sound equally pretentious.”

“No,” Sebastian said as the rest of the chorus laughed. “That’s really it?”

Achilles nodded, setting the glass back down. “Well maybe not pretentious, but Achilles Desrosiers looks a hell of a lot more mysterious on a cover than Achilles Robinson, wouldn’t you say?”

Sebastian shrugged his acquiescence. “Sure… a little hard for fifth graders to pronounce though.”

“Oh, but what are children’s books for if not to build valuable reading skills,” Achilles said, adding lazy jazz hands for a more self-deprecating dramatic effect this time.

Or perhaps he was genuinely mocking himself, for writing for children had eventually come to greatly pain him. But these people didn’t need to know that.

*****

After a few minutes, Emily returned with five plates and a tray of drinks expertly balanced in her hands. Dishing them out with some rather admirable handwork, she gave them a spritely little bow before returning to the bar.

“Every time I look at you I feel bad,” Abigail pouted as they began to dig into their dinners. She had chosen the seat directly across from him, thank goodness, for Achilles couldn’t stand the cigarette smoke that clung to Sebastian.

He looked up to see her touch her forehead. Achilles instinctively reached for his own, his fingers tracing the bandaid he had used to cover up (and prevent him from picking at) what was, in his eyes, a rather gross scab.

He preemptively waved away the apology he knew she was gearing up to deliver for the umpteenth time. “Don’t worry about it, nothing to do with you. Let’s all agree to blame the Wizard, shall we?”

“Hey, yo, when it heals, maybe you’ll have a really badass scar.” Oh Sam, always determined to look on the bright side in some way or another. Abigail nodded, waving her fried chicken wing in agreement.

A “bad ass” scar straight across his temple was not even close to what Achilles wanted on his face, but he smiled and instead asked a question that had been on his mind since that disastrous day.

“Speaking of the Wizard.” He delicately wiped his mouth with the corner of the napkin resting on his lap. “Who is he? What does he do, exactly—”

“OOH! I forgot you met him—”

“Abby, that was literally the reason Achilles disappeared—”

“What did he talk to you about? He, like, never talks to anyone in town, just sort of skulks around and keeps to himself—except for Spirit’s Eve, obviously—but I’ve asked my parents about him since they were both born here and, like, he’s been around for forever and they’re always like super weird about it, like they hate talking about him, so I guess he’s always just kind of been a menace.” She took a breath to swallow the chicken she had been rather aggressively gnashing on during her little speech. “So what did he want with you? You must be important.”

That word again. Don’t overthink it.

Achilles took a sip from his lemonade. “He just said something about passing a test he had put in the center. Something to do with magic.”

“Ooo!” Abigail grabbed Sam’s arm in her excitement. “I passed that test when I was a kid. Well, actually, no—not the Wizard’s test, just like the school test. Alex, you passed too, right?”

Alex nodded.

“Test?”

“They didn’t have the test in fancy pants Monstera?” Alex asked. “Weird, you’d think they would’ve.”

“Magic’s not as big in the cities.” It was Sam who had responded, to Achilles’ vague surprise— especially given that Sam was wrong and Achilles had taken the test in the third grade. And failed. But that didn’t seem pertinent anymore, maybe, so he kept it to himself and let Abigail explain.

“They test at all the Zuzu schools. I think it’s ‘cause the county is built on some ley line for the Elemental Walls or whatever. Just a test in middle school to see if you have any, like, natural talent for magic, in case you, I dunno, want to really learn more and be a magician.”

“It’s a scam so that Ferngill can train and then propaganda magicians into the military to fight that dumbass war with Gotoro.”

“Thanks for that, Seb,” Sam said, shooting him a glare.

Achilles smoothly redirected the conversation back to Abigail. “So you passed? I’m surprised you didn’t go for it.” Of all people to jump at the chance to be a magician—the potential for adventure… well, Abigail seemed the perfect subject.

“Yeah… Mom and Dad were not happy when we got the results,” she said with a shrug. “They didn’t want me getting caught up in any of that stuff so I never got learn—like I said, magic and the Wizard give them the heebie jeebies or something. Alex, you didn’t go for it either, right?”

“Definitely not.”

So there were others in the valley with a natural aptitude for magic then? Correction: a “measurable” aptitude for magic.

Of course, a natural affinity didn’t really mean much at all—magic was teachable (of course, it was significantly easier if you had a natural gift, but even that was known to come and go at any age), and its branches widely diverse (everything from teleportation to hypnotism to even lucid dreaming supposedly had its roots in magic). It was Achilles who had had a special meeting with the Wizard, not Abigail, not Alex. So surely that meant something, right? Even if he had failed his city’s version of this “test”… yes, magic could be learned, maybe something had changed over the years…

Was this his chance to start the new life he wanted? His way to honor the family name?

And Rasmodius had mentioned something about the Valley potentially needing him… was this his destiny? Was this the real reason why he was here? Not to just sell a farm, but something… greater…

He shook his head. Stupid thoughts. It didn’t matter. No, no, he wasn’t going to be staying in Stardew, chumming it up with any kind of homicidal wizards for too much longer. He had his little plan to follow, right? Neatly outlined in twenty plus bullet points taped right under the “Official Renovation & Modernization of Strawberry Farms” sticky note on his mirror.

*****

“All jokes aside, you sure we can’t persuade you to stay in Stardew any longer?” Alex watched Achilles as he signed the saloon receipt with a flourish, a sharp and angular signature he had spent half a decade honing.

The question sent a soft thrum through his heart, but Achilles was quick to clamp down as they stood from the booth. “Hmm, like I said earlier, I’m not quite sure the countryside is for me, really. Was nearly murdered by a Wizard and I’ve been here one week.”

“You know, fair enough.”

Sebastian, leading the way out of the booth, opened the door just as a rather disgruntled looking Shane burst in, pushing the small group to the side with barely a blink and making straight for the bar. He’d already downed a pint before the group had even managed to all step outside.

“Before you go though, my grandparents do want to have you over for dinner—Egg Festival good day for you? I know you’ve got your list of things to do and stuff… You like cookies?”

“Who doesn’t like cookies?”

“I don’t know, don’t fancy people sometimes have weird diets? What’s your favorite kind, my grandma was asking.”

“Hmm, I suppose I’m a sucker for a snickerdoodle.”

Alex made a face. “Snickerdoodles? You monster—what’s wrong with chocolate chip?”

“Nothing! I just… I’m more a vanilla guy. When it comes to sweets.”

“Fine, I’ll let my grandma know, but you’re crazy. So Egg Festival work for you?”

The trio had said their farewells, but Alex had lingered a minute under the streetlight whose soft, golden halo illuminated the bronze in his hair. He smiled, and Achilles smiled back. “Yeah. That sounds good with me.”

#chapter 6 #llnks #sunspraypeak #sdv alex #stardew valley alex #sdv fanfic #stardew valley fanfic #sdv oc

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petiteprincess99 · 1 year

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The other night. I actually didn’t think a date was going to follow through. So I was ready to stay home. Until he did msg me and I came over . He said he was okay with just eating me out and no penetration since I said I only want sex in a committed relationship. Well he didn’t stop when he was supposed to . It kind of ended in date rape? I was having a panic attack at the end and the only reason I calmed down was him trying to say we’ll keep dating and he will see me again. Next day, I tried to talk to him about things. To say I’m sure he didn’t have bad intentions, but I did feel violated and like I didn’t consent. He turned the situation around somehow and started acting like he’s a victim of a false accusation.

Brought up how he has cancer and a son. (I didn’t know of the cancer till after he had already date raped me) and I felt guilty somehow even though it’s not my fault he’s ill. He also said he doesn’t make a lot of money and feels trapped just because I said it would make me feel better if he kept his word about still seeing each other. I literally just wanted to be held after something traumatic. I wanted to at least mean something to this person as it hurts more to realize they don’t care. I also was craving that security that I wanted before having sex. I didn’t want to be with him before, but since he stole that first time between us - I didn’t know how else to cope but to think about being together. I’m sorry it makes no sense. I wasn’t trying to trap any one or extort some kind of money so I was shocked he made me feel bad. I wasn’t even going to report and I still don’t think I can because I blame myself + I don’t think he will ever admit to what he did.

He blocks me after he sees a few of my friends watched his story. And I guess shamed me for confiding in them about it. It’s not like I publicly doxxed him you know? I was in distress and needed support after being raped. But basically he said he was acting like I was blackmailing him when really; I was just mentioning to him how he said he would make me feel better by holding me after violating me. It’s just a really messed up situation. I wish I never went to meet him. I’m embarrassed that I was the victim and he somehow made me feel terrible for what he did to me. Like it’s my fault and I shouldn’t have spoken of what he did. I feel even more ashamed that I tried to give him a chance to be nicer to me after or show some care and he didn’t.

It’s just devastating too that it’s happened to me before. I was almost feeling ready to start looking for work again and trying to drive. But this kind of set me back because now I’m crying on and off a lot. I’ve posted a few videos of me from weeks ago where I was smiling recently because I kind of just want to imagine everything is okay. That I’m okay…

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lionheartslowstart · 1 year

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Disabled?

My life has been challenging. Especially between the ages of 5 and 13, and then again from 19 until, well, now, really. Since my freshman year of college, it seems like everything is just getting worse and worse and worse.

For a long time, I attributed my rapid deterioration to a combination of being in an abusive relationship, developing a thyroid condition that went several months without treatment, and being away from home before I was ready. But as my stability continued to collapse, it became apparent to me that, while those three events certainly had an impact on my mental health, they were only a few drops in the pond, so to speak. That those events, traumatic though they were, were not enough to keep me from crawling out of the hole I’ve found myself in. Not this many years later.

In fact, it seems like things get worse every year, not better. Some days, I’ve found myself struggling to do basic tasks, or even activities I enjoy. Even the idea of doing certain things can send me into a state of panic. Frankly, it has gotten to the point where being a normal, functioning person feels completely out of reach.

A few weeks ago, I was diagnosed as autistic. While this diagnosis did not come as a surprise, it still shook me up. Don’t get me wrong, I pursued this diagnosis for a long time, and finally receiving it was a huge relief. But it also confirmed a lot of things I wish weren’t true, like the fact that I’ll never truly fit in. Even more importantly, it shed a new light on previously held beliefs, and raised some significant questions.

For years, I expressed to my mother that, no matter how well I was doing, no matter what was going on in my life, it seemed that every few months, I would have a complete breakdown of my faculties, and my life would come skidding to a halt. Executive dysfunction held sole reign, and everyday life felt impossible for a few months. Then, eventually, I’d slowly find a way out of the hole, and life would begin anew. After my diagnosis, and a lot of research, I came to understand that what I was experiencing is called “autistic burnout,” something frequently experienced by high-masking autistic people who mask unconsciously for too long and end up exhausting themselves to the point of dysfunction. A lot of the time, people are able to move through the burnout and resume regular life. However, sometimes people aren’t, and remain unable to function as a “normal” person.

Thus far, each time I have experienced burnout, I have been able to come out the other side and resume life as I have known it. But this time, I’m scared. Since writing my last post about autistic burnout, I have realized that this is, in fact, not the longest I have gone in a state of burnout. Or rather, it’s not that straight forward. On one hand, I did take a whole year off of school after my freshman year. On the other hand, I worked a part time job for the better part of that year. That was almost ten years ago, so it’s hard for me to remember exactly how “functional” I was, or how much I was masking. But I was able to go back to school and eventually (after taking another semester off) graduate and get my diploma. Still, if I’m being honest, school was never the same after that. And I have to wonder if it’s because I never fully took enough time to recover from burnout. So in that respect, I’m hoping that if I really really commit to honoring my needs and unmasking completely, I can recover my strength, energy, and willpower, and once again become a “productive member of society.” The fact is, I don’t like having nothing to do. I don’t like feeling like this. But I can’t seem to get my shit together enough to actually DO anything, even though I want to.

When I was in high school, I was on top of the world. I really really hate saying that I peaked in high school, but it’s true. I was getting top grades, I was popular, I was happy (well, happier, I still had a lot of problems most people didn’t see). It felt like I had my whole life ahead of me. I had all these plans, all these dreams, they all felt so tangible. And then I went to college.

Like I said, the thyroid disease and abusive relationship definitely took their toll on me. But looking back now, I believe what really sent me spiraling was being away from home. Not because I “wasn’t ready,” which I thought for years, but because in leaving home, I left behind my support system, which I had become extremely dependent on, and even more importantly, my structure.

I peaked in high school because I had a routine. I had a specific schedule of things I did day in and day out, including school, extracurriculars, and friends who lived within a 15 minute driving radius. I had assignments and tests in subjects I was intimately familiar with. I was comfortable and safe. And when I went away, even though it wasn’t even that far, I essentially lost all of those things all at once. And that in and of itself was incredibly traumatizing. I floundered my freshman year. Despite everything I’ve ever been through, my freshman year of college remains the most traumatic time of my life. I would give anything to go back in time and change it, especially knowing what I know now.

Several months ago, before receiving my diagnosis, I expressed to my therapist that I felt like I was regressing. Like I just kept getting worse and less functional. I discussed what I wrote here, about performing at my best in high school, especially around the ages of 17 and 18. But that since then, it feels like a steady slope downhill. Her response was jarring. She said,

“Are you regressing? Or is it that you are just staying the same? Maybe you feel you “peaked” at the age of 18 because a lot less is expected of an 18 year old. 28 year olds have a lot more expectations placed on them. Maybe you are simply not able to live up to the expectations of a “normal” 28 year old. And that’s okay.” (For the record, I love my therapist and all of this was said with kindness.)

Well, it doesn’t feel okay. I’ve said for years that in many respects, I still feel 22 inside. Don’t get it twisted, I’ve absolutely grown mentally and emotionally. I’ve matured, I’ve learned things about myself and the world, I’ve done a LOT of internal work to both better myself and understand myself. I handle conflicts and many negative emotions a lot better than I did when I was young. So in those ways and a handful of others, yes, I have grown up. And yet, I still can’t seem to just...do the thing. What thing? I don’t know. ANYthing? Adulthood? Life? Function like a normal fucking person? All of the above?

I found out last week that I qualify for Medicaid.

Which like, hooray I have health insurance, which I otherwise wouldn’t have, because I aged out of my parents’ insurance forever ago, and I’m currently unemployed. But the reason I qualified for Medicaid is because I’m an autistic 29 year old woman who struggles to take care of herself. And that sentence alone led me to ask myself a very uncomfortable question:

Am I disabled?

For the record, I understand that the phrase “differently abled” is more accurate, especially when you consider that most language having to do with any type of divergence from the majority has negative connotations and is centered around “productivity” by neurotypical and able-bodied standards. But please bear with me here. I am using the word “disabled” for a reason.

Because it was largely assumed for my whole life that I was a functional, fundamentally neurotypical person, I have been conditioned to feel a certain way about my value as a productive member of society. People have always judged me for being “lazy” and “spoiled.” I constantly worry about how people will react when I tell them I’m unemployed, or when I tell them really anything specific about my life. How must I look to people? How must I come off? The possible judgment from others about how I live my life weighs on me. Even when people tell me they’re not judging, I don’t believe them. Because I am judging myself. Very, very harshly.

Because I should be able to function normally. I should be able to take care of myself and just be a fucking adult. That’s the way it’s supposed to be, isn’t it? At least, that’s the way I was made to feel it’s supposed to be my whole life.

I have never been ableist. I’ve never gotten pissy or frustrated when someone around me needed help, even if it affected me. I’ve never judged anyone for being different or needing different things. I’ve always criticized our society for ignoring the rights and needs of the differently abled, and I’ve always been extremely vocal about the discrimination the differently abled face, and how fucked up it all is.

So why am I suddenly so distraught? Why is it that even the mere thought that I might maybe possibly be “disabled” literally keeps me awake at night? Why am I obsessing over this and begging the universe to change it?

“Internalized ableism occurs when we are so heavily influenced by the stereotypes, misconceptions, and discrimination against people with disabilities that we start to believe that our disabilities really do make us inferior.” - Amanda McDowell

And there it is.

Clearly, this is the next hurdle I must face. Before I can even think about recovering from autistic burnout, I have to unlearn all of that garbage that I have received by osmosis from an ableist world. Because how can I honor my needs, how can I do the things that I know will help me, if I’m constantly judging myself for them?

Then, of course, there’s also the guilt. I feel like I’m appropriating a term that doesn’t belong to me. I mean, I’ve been able to function before, right? I’ve worked, I’ve gone to school, I’ve done “normal people things.” So how could I possibly even have the right to call myself disabled?

This is a lot. I’m trying to unpack it all, but that’s going to take time, patience, and self-compassion. These questions remain: Am I disabled? Both in the legal sense and in the literal sense? What does that mean? How do I feel about that? Does that change my life in any way? If it does, what are those changes and what do they mean?

Finally receiving an autism diagnosis was huge for me. It was a massive relief. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders that I didn’t even know was there. But now, only a few weeks later, it seems that weight has been thrown right back on. And I definitely felt it this time.

As I said before, this diagnosis has confirmed a lot of things that I wish weren’t true. It has made me examine myself in ways that are helpful definitely, but also in ways that are exhausting and re-traumatizing.

I don’t know what my next step is. All I know is that it’s crucial I unlearn this internalized garbage, both for my own health, and because it’s just not the kind of person I want to be. In the meantime, I will continue to rest, and try my darndest to trust the process.

God I fucking hate this.

#personal #autism #autistic #neurodivergent #neurospicy #nuerodiverse #mental health #mental illness #mentally ill #mental health awareness #disabled #differently abled #ableism

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jabroni-apologist · 2 years

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Ethan Short Story Collection

I wrote most of these when I was in highschool lol, can't speak to the quality but I figure I would put them up somewhere

Warmachine Short Story: Siege

I’ll always remember that day, the smell of a trench is hard to forget. Dead bodies, pouring rain, wet dirt, and the smell of gunpowder. The screams of the poor bastards as the bombard shells hit them still ring in my mind. The stunned look of the man beside me as the blasting pike ran him through is burnt into me like a cattle brand.

I grew up on the outskirts of Elsinburg, my father was a wealthy scholar type, and Ma stayed home. I was an only child and rather doted on. I was a mousey, short and scrawny boy, I spent a lot of time inside reading, and I was often pushed around by the other kids. We were by no means nobles, but I never went hungry, and I went to the best school in town, life was good. When the Khadorians jumped us, the call for a levy came up. My parents knew if I didn’t show up for the draft they would just come looking around our house and drag me off, so they held me close and sent me off. My mother was sobbing bitterly and I saw my father cover his eyes to hide his tears. I was petrified myself, but somehow my feet carried me to the recruitment office.

I was put with the other boys from my district and hauled into the city proper. I knew most of them, and a few of them were friends; We were terrified, but at least we were pissing ourselves together. Training was woefully short, we didn’t have enough time for a proper regimen. Credit to that old Drill Master though, the crusty Bastard made every minute count. We learned how to shoot, how to march, and how to run someone through with our bayonets. We looked all prim and proper, young pale Ryn purebloods in sharp violet uniforms with silver trim and breastplates. We looked like something on an army recruitment poster. For a while we had some hope, we thought we would beat the Reds back and be home in time for Summerfaire. We didn’t know why the veterans looked right through us when we passed. they didn’t see recruits, they saw more corpses marching off to be torn to ribbons. I understand the look they had in their eyes all too well now.

The army had dug a long series of deep trenches around the south gate of the city. There was no town here, and the few residents of the southern woods had headed for shelter behind the walls weeks ago. They stuck us between two other units in the rear rows. The wall was right at our backs, and I could hear the sharpshooters and cannoneers rushing to their posts up above. The clearing that surrounded the city ended abruptly in thick foliage. It wasn’t any ThorneWall, but it was thick enough that we wouldn’t see the enemy until they opened fire. We were downright twitchy, some of us terrified, some itching to fight; we even had warjacks with us! Two hulking metal giants, a Vanguard and a Sternguard. Their large, green, steam belching forms towering over us. One had a shield and a polearm, the other carried an artillery piece on its shoulder. The whole affair had us so shaken as to be quiet as mice. Some officer from a veteran platoon was shouting orders at the Jacks’ to try and get them to hunker down while some arcanist was chanting something to himself. While It wasn’t the first time seeing it, I’d never witnessed it used in anything outside parlor tricks or enchanting tools. Yellow runes wafted around his body and I saw the walls of barricades we’d thrown up in front of the city stiffen and contract to be harder. If I wasn’t so preoccupied with pissing myself I would have been fascinated.

The tension was palpable, but I felt overall there was an air of defiance. We were well dug in and ready for anything, we were going to turn these invaders away and protect our city and our country! I braced my rifle in my arms and gritted my teeth, Then I heard the first clap of thunder. Morrow damn me if it weren’t that rain that signaled our fates being sealed. The rain itself was benign, not even hard at first. But everything after it started felt like a nightmare.

First came the noise, a slow rumbling punctuated by several heavy thumps. It was so quiet you could barely hear it to start, but it got louder and louder till the thumping suddenly stopped. We saw smoke coming from the tree line and our cannons were given the order to fire. The big guns on the wall let fly. Most just landed in the forest with resounding crashes, but a couple found their mark based on the ear splitting sound of cracking and grinding metal. Before we could celebrate scoring first blood the Reds returned fire. Their mortars were accompanied by a wall of deafening sound. Most fell on the front line. I couldn't tear my eyes away as the forward trenches were riddled with explosions. Even above the fire and the thunder I could still hear their screams. The gore washed upward in a red tide, limbs and broken dying men littered the road I had walked on all my life. Several soldiers in my unit, just boys like me, broke then. Their minds shattered, they began to whimper or tuck their heads beneath them, heedless of the officer’s commands. Noel, a large, foul tempered boy who has picked on me for years was crying like he was three. I had my chest on the trench wall, my knuckles were white from clasping my rifle. Than the order came: “Ready arms!” The other regiments began to form up with their guns cocked and ready. The boys with enough sense to fight joined me on the wall. “Fire when you see red!” The Lieutenant barked at the back line of units. I assumed he meant the foe’s uniforms, for there was plenty of red on the field already.

After several minutes of continued fire, both from our guns and the Khadorian’s, the first wave came. Dozens of soldiers in heavy gray winter coats with light red and bronze armor came shouting and charging out of the woods. Most wielded axes and brutal, stout blunderbusses. Some stood back and fired on us with rifles or rockets. They were the Winterguard, foot soldiers like us. They ranged from gruff, bearded veterans to meek boys like my unit. “FIRE!” We were too far away to aim at properly, so we shot off a volley blindly in their general direction. Squeezing the trigger was much harder than I thought it would be, but it was strangely satisfying. All of the other units in the back fired with us, and I noticed with some relief that many in the front rows did as well. Some thirty enemies must have died to just the first volley, and we knew well how to cycle our gun ranks. But they didn’t even flinch, they just kept coming. Every time I pulled the trigger I did so with more enthusiasm and focus. As they grew closer I began to aim for them, I adjusted for wind and distance just like I was taught. It wasn’t long before It was clear I had ended at least one of them myself. I remembered my grandfather, and how he told me of his days fighting the barbarian Farrow tribes many years ago. He spoke of how, even if they were brutish pig men, the weight of directly ending a thinking creature’s life was crushing to him. But here I was, engaging my fellow humans, and I felt no pain for them. The deaths of my comrades still wakes me at night, but for these Reds I felt nothing. As the volleys rang out my terrified expression became one of gritted teeth and dark contentment.

The rain was coming down harder now, the Autumn shower was giving way to a full on storm, and the gray sky punctuated the grimness of the situation. The fearless conscripts reached the first trench line, and I heard renewed screams as the melee set in. After a brief time it became clear the first line was completely lost, and with that foothold secured, the enemy made their next play. Several Winter Guard teams hefting mortars scrambled out of the trees to reposition, and the horrible clammer from the woods began again with a vengeance. Then suddenly, hulking figures burst from the woods at full sprint. No doubt, these were Khadoran warjacks. They stood twice as tall as our own and belched three times as much steam. They were truly monstrous, their stark red figures dominating the dark field. There were several, about five I should think. Some wielded mounted cannon pieces and axes the size of children. Another had some sort of hammer and an oversized shotgun for a hand. Still another was nothing but a chassis wielding twin pistons for arms. They moved with a speed and struck with an accuracy that seemed totally impossible for their size. Directly behind the red devils I faintly saw a figure. They were dressed all in red, some fancy armor with a smoke stack. They were too far away to make out clearly, but I saw them gesturing casually towards our line as if directing the machines towards their targets. It wasn’t until much later I learned that I had seen a Warcaster in real life. They thundered and ripped their way through the barricades and vaulted across the trenches. Their weapons echoed across the battlefield and brought with them total destruction. The middle rank was punched through in a heartbeat, and men on the wall were turned into paste by the oncoming shells. Pieces of the masonry spewed forth and struck men in the back with sickeningly wet sounds. Our artillery fired, but the beasts were going too quickly to get a bead on.

Then something quite odd happened, over the cacophony of battle I heard a strange chant. A low, humming, thrumming melody that washed over us. Elsinburg is an ancient city, and has long established temples to many deities, Morrow, Menoth, even the trollblood goddess. But I had never heard any choral chant that sounded anything like it. Then I saw them, three arcanists in ornate, velvet robes strode up seemingly from nowhere. I recognized their garb from a history book on the royalty I had read years ago: court wizards. It seems as though the warjacks had stepped upon some magical trap they had previously set. A large hidden series of complex magic circles of sparkling golden runes rose from the center of the field were our line had been punctured. The Arcanists walked forward together, seemingly unafraid of the danger around them. Infact, I could have sworn I saw several rounds that would have ended them stop in mid air and fall to the ground. They waved their hands about in strange and complex motions, they seemed in a trance, I had never seen anyone in such concentration. The Rampaging metal monsters stopped suddenly, dead in their tracks, and lowered their guns. Indeed the entire clearing suddenly grew eerily quiet. For the briefest moment everyone, my young comrades who sobbed as they cowered in fear or shot their rifles, to the men in the middle trenches fighting each other to the death, even the soldiers on both sides bleeding out in the gore soaked dirt, found tranquility. In the midst of such chaos, it was euphoric. Then one man, the captain in charge of the defense of the city, broke the silence: “Concentrate fire on the warjacks!” He bellowed “All together, everything you’ve got!” As one we broke from our stupor while the Khadorians remained where they stood, still stunned. In the trenches in front of ours, I heard the slitting of throats and gauging of bellies as our men took advantage of the dumbfounded enemy. Then we turned on the foe’s warjacks. We rained volleys upon them, and the remaining guns on the wall followed suit. Through the wall of lead, we brought two of them down. The first was the one already struck several times by the artillery on the parapet. Its hull was full of breaches, and that’s what we aimed at. The other was unscathed, but with a clear, unmoving target, the artillery (after hitting the blasted thing half a dozen times between them.) stopped the thing’s legs out from under it.

Then the spell broke, and the rain began to pour down. We were drenched, and standing up to our ankles in mud. As the spell stopped, the arcanists fell to their knees. Clearly that amazing show had cost them their stamina. Before we could take action, the reawakened Khadorian line took their revenge. The brave magicians were torn to shreds were they laid. They became a cloud of red mist as dozens of rounds ripped through them. The remaining red giants sprung back to life to finish their murderous rampage. The horn sounded and our own machines were sent out to fight them. I have been told that warjacks are just a little smarter than a dog; that they are just bright enough to fight and lug supplies. However even a dog could have seen they had no chance. They were half the size of their foes, and it was two to three. Whether it was bravery or blind obedience, the machines did their duty unwaveringly. The Vanguard lunged out with its polearm and scored several hits against the foes. The Sternguard blasted one point blank with its cannon, but the red behemoth it had targeted just shrugged it off. It then lunged at one of the Khadoran warjacks using its weapon as a club. It was caught midway by a backhand from the beast and then quickly fell to several vicious swings of a gigantic ax. The Vanguard was then surrounded on all sides by the three monsters and crushed into pulp. Distracted by the fight and looking on in horror we were too late to notice the enemy charge. They were no winterguard, they carried no firearms to speak of, and instead hefted large pikes tipped with explosive charges. They wore impossibly bulky red plate armor and shields that could turn bullets, and moved like a pack of starving wolves between the trenches. A few fell to our shots, but then the rest were upon us. I thank Morrow for my small stature, for I was all that saved me as the melee set in. I watched as their lances fell upon my unit. People I had known for years, had played with in youth, were torn asunder. I was spattered in gore as the rounds ignited on impact. There was no contest, it was a slaughter. They were killed to a man. Then the knights in red, Iron Fangs they were called, jumped down into the trench and began to stride off to fight the adjacent unit. Unfazed by their own grizzly work. And I was left looking at the mound of flesh that had once been the children of my neighborhood.

For some reason, I didn’t break. I was always a meek boy, and even I thought this sight would end me. Instead, something inside me snapped. I was filled with an unending and bottomless rage. But there was also something else. Something more insidious than animal bloodlust. The feeling was back; that grim, black joy that awakens in the deepest parts of men’s hearts. It was like what I had felt before when I killed for the first time, but ten times more powerful. It felt like the dark goddess herself had reached down from the heavens and given me her terrible strength. Without a word, I tailed the Iron Fangs, my footfalls were silent under the screams of battle and the steps of their armored bodies. Their plate was quite thick, and I was almost certain when I drove my bayonet into the back of the one trailing behind the others it would be in vain. But no, somehow, through sheer hatred or luck, it went through a chink in his back plate and burrowed itself in his spine. He made a noise like a belligerent cat, and attempted to turn and face me. That's when I shot him point blank. The slug must have broken his backbone completely apart. He fell without another word. These knights were no conscripts, and they immediately wheeled on me. Their leader barked some order in their brutish tongue and two of them turned to face me while the rest continued their quick march. I tried to dig my gun from the first man's corpse but it held fast. This was it, it was over now. These two could easily overtake me with their long spears and fresh reserves. I screamed and charged them open handed. As our defenses crumbled and the last line was routeing I lunged, with no plan, no hope, only blind fury. Then everything went black.

When I awoke it was to the sound and heat of a crackling inferno. I lay face up in the mud. My head felt like it had been hit by a gorax. The rain had stopped, and replacing it was the horrific sight of the city on fire. It was so intense I could see the flame from above the battered, abandoned walls. I thought I must be dead, I thought this must be some sort of hell. I don’t know why they didn’t kill me; I think one of them must have hit me over the head with the shaft of his pike, for I would have surely died if they hit me with a blasting tip. I don’t think it was mercy, they just thought they killed me already. I wanted to just lay there, lay there and watch my life and everyone I knew burn. But despite my throbbing head, and the mud that coated my rags, or anything else, I got up, I got up and left. The Khadorians on post no doubt saw me, but I hardly looked a threat let alone a soldier, drenched in filth as I was. I just started walking west, and somehow I didn’t die.

I don’t know if I’ll keep fighting now, if I’ll join with the others in the resistance and regroup, I don’t know if my hatred or my fear is stronger. It’s only been a year now, but I’m ten years older. The country fell in short order except for a couple cities, and we’re relying on our allies for supplies. Truth is I’m scared; not of death or pain, but of that black joy, that shifting vile worm in my heart that grows stronger in battle, the relish I felt as I heard the cracking of bones, and the screams of battle.

#warmachine #short story #amature #creative writing #fanfic

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