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one-boring-person · 3 years

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H'okay I gotta bite. From the friends-to-enemies-to-lovers prompt, would you please do #5 with one of our favorite smart asses: Gabriel Cash? I was going to ask for Snake but after seeing 'Guilty as Charged' I *LOVE* how you write him!

Thank you so much! I'm really glad you liked it! And thanks for the request, I enjoyed writing it, though I'm really sorry that it took so long :/

We Make A Good Team.

Gabe Cash (Tango and Cash) x reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of gun violence

Masterlist

"Sorry, can I just…" A pair of hands suddenly grip my waist and pull me to the side, away from my position by the corner, the familiar voice sending a wave of irritation through me as I hear it.

Stumbling to stand beside the newcomer, I glare at him as he takes my place, drawing a gun from his belt as he presses himself back against the grimy bricks, peeking round the corner.

"Cash, get the hell out of my way!" I hiss at him, grabbing his arm to pull him back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you say something?" Gabe turns briefly to look at me, his hair whipping into my face from our accidental proximity.

"Come on, Cash. You know playing deaf doesn't suit you." I retort, still pulling at his arm.

"Really? Because it sure as hell looks like you're enjoying it." He sends a pointed glance at my hand on his sleeve, "See, you're already trying to take my clothes off."

Snapping my hand back to my body, I make a sound of disgust, blushing angrily as he smirks at me and turns back around, peering round into the darkened street.

With an angry scowl, I turn back to face the rest of the team of armed police behind us, locating my captain quickly.

"Why the hell is he on my case, sir?!" I growl, gesturing back to the blonde beside me.

"Hey, hey! "He" has a name, you know." Gabe interrupts, "And who said it's your case? Last I checked, there's a whole crowd here."

"What, you think you should go in solo?" I scoff, barely looking at him, "I've been on this case for a week now, so it's mine. I call the shots, so fuck off!"

"Actually, (Y/n), I called him in." My captain says from the back of the group, sending me a stern look as I set my jaw.

"But why?"

"Because, babe, there's no way you're gonna pull this off without me." Gabe smirks, before he suddenly steps out from behind the corner, yelling out to the criminals I'm trying to convict.

"Cash! You fucker!" I bite out after him, following swiftly with my gun raised, knowing I'll probably need it now.

Falling in beside him, I take up a position to his right, inadvertently reverting back to old habits I built up years before, weapon aimed slightly to the side as I keep half an eye on the surroundings as well as the scene before us. Noticing me there, Gabe shoots me a quick grin, winking as he sees me realise what I've done, looking back as I make a face of disgust and move into a different place, scowling to myself. Observing the scene before me, I change my aim as I figure out that there's no way we'll be snuck up on - the gangs (all three) are there in their entirety. Swallowing, I signal to the squad behind us to move in, thankful for the forethought of bringing in more help from the armed cops. It's not long before they're all in position, both the ones behind us and on the roofs around, as well as those at the other end of the alley.

"Put your weapons down, you're surrounded! Nobody needs to get hurt, but if you don't do what I say, someone will!" I call out to the gathered gang members before Cash can get a word in, eyeing them all warily.

Nothing happens, the whole alley remaining still and silent, almost eerie as we stare at each other, guns aimed at one another. It takes a full minute for the tension to be broken.

"You think she's joking? Listen, guys, I've seen her angry and trust me, it's not pretty. Just drop the weapons, and none of us have to see her go batshit! Everyone wins!" Gabe finally shouts to the gangs, nodding towards me with a knowing look.

Annoyed, I glance at him, glaring as he winks at me again, finding his relaxed approach infuriating. Across from us, the gang members look at each other in confusion, as if debating whether or not to follow our instruction

"Look, guys, it's really not that hard. Just do what she says!" Cash tries again, cocking his gun ominously.

"Drop your weapons!" I follow up, adjusting my grip on my gun, "Drop them and step back, hands in the air!"

As the threat of the situation finally sinks in for them all, many of the gangsters gradually place their weapons down, surrendering themselves even as their compatriots curse them out, pointing their guns at them. It doesn't take long, however, for them all to see sense, especially as the armed police move forwards to start making the arrests.

With a triumphant grin, Gabe turns to me and holsters his gun, lifting an eyebrow at my vexed expression as he goes to move past.

"Way to go, team!" He comments as he steps past me, bumping my shoulder with his.

Flipping him off, I go to help the others, ignoring him.

It's already half ten by the time I finish writing the report, my hand aching from the continuous movement - my captain has always preferred handwritten files for some reason, so I often spend hours writing up days and days worth of case notes. Even so, as I walk over to the door to the captain's office, I can't help but feel a little satisfied by the completed wad of paper, holding it carefully so that it doesn't get damaged at all.

Naturally, the captain isn't in at this time of night, so I push open his door and go to the desk, dropping the file by his keyboard with a final thunk, glad to be rid of the burden. Without further ado, I leave the room, heading to my office again to grab my things, only to realise I have yet to sort out the conviction forms for the gangsters we picked up earlier, a job that will take me a good hour or so alone. Sighing, I take up the pile of papers, shuffling through them with a tired carelessness, moving back out into the corridor with them.

This time, I make my way over to the communal area, intending to make myself a cup of coffee so that I'll at least be able to stay awake whilst I fill these in. As I enter though, I fail to notice the figure sat in the corner.

"Babe, it is way too late to be drinking coffee. You should try a beer." Gabe's voice sounds almost as tired as I feel, though I can't quite see why, as it's highly unlikely that he's done any paperwork in the last four hours.

His words startle me, making me jump and drop my cup to the counter top with a loud clatter.

"Fuck, Cash! You scared the shit outta me!" I curse, pressing a hand to my chest as I catch my breath.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Thought you'd seen me." The detective apologises, lifting his beer up to his lips.

"S'fine." I mumble, turning to the fridge in search of a drink, "I need something stronger than a beer."

"Stronger?" Gabe lifts an eyebrow.

"Yeah. But I'll take a beer...I ran out of scotch a few days ago."

"Scotch? You take that shit to work?" His other eyebrow joins the first.

Shooting him a tired smirk, I grab a beer and join him at the table, dropping the papers down in a messy heap.

"I usually do." I reply, cracking the beer open on the edge of the table, "As I said, I drank it all."

"Damn, girl, didn't realise work got you so stressed." He remarks, toasting me as I lift my drink to my lips.

I shrug, taking out my pen to fill some of the forms in, writing in the date, charges and signing the bottom.

"Why don't you just leave that for someone else to do? Or wait until tomorrow? They're not going anywhere." Gabe asks after a while, having watched me in silence, the longest we've gone without arguing in a long time.

"Because," I sigh, glancing up at him, "I actually stick to my deadlines. This needs to be done by tomorrow."

He clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes as he reaches across, pinching the end of my pen.

"The captain isn't going to expect you to have written a whole report, plus thirty of those fuckers. You're not a machine, you need a rest." The blonde says to me, clear blue eyes fixed on mine, genuine care written into his expression.

"No, Cash-" I try to argue, only to be cut off as he takes my pen from me and stands from the table, coming round to my side.

"Yes, you're going to listen to me for once." He orders, almost sternly, helping me from my chair as I protest a little, unused to the friendly way he's behaving around me.

Shushing me, Gabe leads me over to the sofa at the far end of the break room, sitting me down before taking his place at the other side, which isn't so far given the small stature of the piece of furniture. Our legs are touching from our close proximity, but I'm too tired to do anything about it, simply enjoying his company instead, something I never thought would happen again.

"You know, (Y/n), we still make a good team." He murmurs after a minute or so, drinking from his beer as I turn my head to look at him.

"I guess so." I agree, thinking back to the arrest earlier today, as well as a few earlier on in our careers. Back when things were easier.

Gabe is clearly thinking the same as he sighs and turns to look at me, the two of us making eye contact properly for the first time in years, unspoken words passing between us as we gaze at each other.

"I still wish things hadn't changed." He sighs wistfully, glancing away again, hand clenching the bottle.

"Me too, honestly." I reply quietly, finishing my beer quickly as I settle back into the sofa, feeling sleep tugging at my mind, "It was nice having a partner."

"Yeah it was. Work gets lonely now."

"Tell me about it."

All is silent between us for a few more minutes, during which time I start to feel my eyelids drooping closed, my body relaxing comfortably into the soft cushions.

"Maybe one day we could work together again." He proposes, placing our bottles on the floor by our feet.

"Yeah, that would be nice." I agree, being totally genuine as I try my hardest not to drift off, "I miss you, Ca- Gabe."

At the sound of his name, Gabe looks over at me again, evidently noticing me half-asleep on the couch beside him. It takes him a moment, but it's not too long before I feel a lair of arms wrap around me. Eyes opening, I give him a questioning look as he pulls me closer to him, maneuvering us so he's got me cradled against his chest, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. If I wasn't so tired, I would've pushed him away, but as it is, it feels nice being held in his strong grip, his chest firm under my cheek and palms as I give in and nuzzle closer to him. His scent floods my nostrils, something in the mixture of old fast-food and hastily-used cologne comforting me as I feel a soft warmth spread through me.

Too tired to argue, I relax into him, allowing him to lull me to sleep with gentle patterns on my back, his hair falling into my face as he leans forwards over me. Just before I drop off entirely, I feel him press a soft kiss to my forehead, his arms tightening around me as he hugs me to his body, muscles loosening underneath me.

I really have missed him.

#tango and Cash #Gabe Cash #Gabe Cash x reader #Gabe Cash imagine #tango and Cash imagine #Kurt Russell #break writes

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tenacityreturns · 3 years

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aokaga fic alert!

plot: kagami and aomine have their first important rematch since they started dating. sure, he’d been looking forward to this for ages, but there’s something keeping kagami from fully devoting himself to the game. it’s a block that’s costing seirin points. will he be able to get over it before halftime ends? word count: 3020 rating: sfw, but maybe there’s a cheeky kiss since this was originally from a five times kissed prompt until it got too long

second quarter. benched. two fouls ( including one against aomine ). legs are starting to hurt. seething. kagami watches the score board with his lip in his teeth. touou increase the point gap, but not by much. aomine’s hanging back, not playing to his best. isn’t that good? isn’t that a good thing that he’s not running seirin into the ground? he could if he wanted to. no... no, it only pisses kagami off even more. aomine doesn’t respect seirin enough. he’s going easy on them in case he upsets kagami. the bastard! it’s too late for that. his teammates must know that aomine’s holding back, and they must also know it’s because of kagami. nobody knows they’re dating, at least, kagami doesn’t think they do, but it’s clear that touou’s ace is only interested in battling seirin’s in a one-on-one.

the zone feels so far off. is this what kise was talking about? once you love someone, you don’t want--- no, you physically cannot give your all. even against aomine, whom kagami has plenty of experience maxing out his stamina, there’s something blocking him. he hadn’t even worked up much of a sweat before he was benched. kagami wants to win. seirin want to win. but he can’t enter the zone. why can’t he? doesn’t he want to? things only got interesting with aomine after he lost! his leg starts bouncing. kagami needs to get back out there. this is really fucking pissing him off! he doesn’t get what’s wrong with him, either! damn. he knew he was nervous before this match, but didn’t realise it would stop him from playing properly!

the seconds tick by. nearly half-time. what will aomine do with the moments ahead?

hyuuga scores a three, it’s nice. his teammates on the bench cheer, but kagami’s watching aomine. glaring. seething, truly. he should have stopped it.

aomine looks over.

concentrate on the game, you bastard!

kagami watches the grimace form across dark features. kuroko passes the ball to izuki, who looks like he’s clear to get to maybe the three point line, and pass to hyuuga who’s open. kagami glances at the time and when he returns to the spot touou’s number 5 had been, he’s not there. izuki’s motionless for a whole second, staring in horror at aomine as he’s flying towards his target. he’d just-- appeared. kagami hadn’t even seen it. how fast had aomine been to not only get to izuki, but to steal before he’d had a chance to defend himself? the upperclassmen turn on their heels and go after him, but there’s no shame in defence’s inability to stop one of aomine’s formless shots. damn. that’s so cool. aomine’s so good at going from flat out sprint to complete stop. not even a falter. jeez. he’s walking towards his team’s bench before the buzzer goes, but there was nothing seirin could do. fifteen points behind.

he had to talk to him. had to. maybe aomine’s own bad mood would snap kagami out of his. they loved playing against each other! this is really off! so he pulls on his sweater and walks on over, saying nothing to his own team before leaving. kagami’s not thinking about whether or not there are any rules against talking to his opponents. aomine’s back is turned, but momoi’s surprised kagamin? is enough to turn all heads. aomine’s own shock doesn’t go unnoticed. how could he think kagami didn’t want to talk it out right now?

“can i see you outside?” kagami doesn’t like being over here. it feels weird, he can feel a lot of eyes on him, and this can’t be allowed for how close this feels to trespassing. “sorry,” he adds impulsively.

aomine, the only person kagami can bear to look at right now, blinks uselessly. it’s momoi who speaks first. thank god she does; kagami had been milliseconds from stomping away in embarrassment.

“we’d like him back a few minutes before we begin,” she pushes him forwards, kickstarting aomine to move by himself. momoi knows about them. she must know about them. aomine pulls on his jacket and the two leave. kagami’s going to get so told off when he gets back. majorly told off. ah, so what? what can they do, bench him?

“i thought we talked about this,” aomine says gravely as they continue down the corridor, “we’re gonna go all out.”

“that’s just what i could say to you!” kagami’s quick to raise his voice, but he has to separate in-game tension with out-of-game tension. he exhales. “you’re holding back.”

“you’re benched, what the hell is the point?”

“that’s my team you’re talking about!”

aomine sighs. “did you call me out here just to blow off steam? save that for the game. now, back to the point, why are you holding back?”

“i’m not---”

“yes, you were.”

they stop walking. no one is around but this is still just a hallway not very far from the locker-rooms. kagami’s indignant and he’s mad. “you’re holding back! that last point was the first time you even tried!”

“like i said, taiga, you’re benched. you want me to demolish your teammates?”

“respect them, at least!”

“---- are you mad at me?”

“yes!”

“for what?”

“holding back!”

“stop saying that! you’re being an idiot right now,” aomine growls, “you backed out of a one-on-one earlier. you just passed. why didn’t you challenge me?”

kagami falters. had he done that? oh. yeah. earlier in the last quarter, he can picture it now. they’re face-to-face: aomine’s radiating intensity. every twitching muscle is under his gaze. he knows kagami, knows what he likes to do. but instead of rising to the challenge, kagami hesitates, and passes. aomine doesn’t try to steal it, either. he stands there looking disappointed. that was the first moment that kagami felt the pent-up tightness in his chest. it cascades as all anxiety does within him into anger and then he starts getting fouls. coach said he isn’t thinking clearly. she’s right.

“we said it doesn’t matter who wins. or didn’t you mean that?”

oh. fuck. kagami’s hand reaches up to where the ring on his neck usually sits, and in that moment, his worries become so much clearer. he’d thought that he’d been able to disconnect aomine his boyfriend, and aomine his rival. he was right, after all, kagami’s certain that he’ll still love aomine if touou wins today. it will suck, but as long as they’ve both gone all out, there’s nothing more to be said than that he needs to get stronger. but he hadn’t thought the fear through. he hadn’t even considered that he might be worried aomine would stop loving him if he lost. people have a habit of saying one thing, but when kagami beats them, it’s all over. it’s happened before. aomine’s searching for answers in kagami’s face, but this is hard to say. of all people he could be speaking to, perhaps aomine is one who understands this best.

“do you want to win today?” kagami asks quietly.

“of course i do.”

“what if you lost?”

“that’s not gonna happen.”

“daiki.”

“fine, it’d be shit,” he shrugs, “but nothing would change.”

“nothing?”

“can’t you just say what’s bothering you? we don’t have a lot of time here.”

kagami huffs. “maybe i can’t enter the zone ‘cuz i keep thinking you won’t like me when i win.” when. that’s already a step in the right direction. “i know what you said, but i’ve heard it before.”

it’s aomine’s turn to fall silent. he looks away with a worrisome frown. what’s he thinking about? is he offended that kagami doesn’t believe him? he’s sorry! it’s such a stupid kind of insecurity! it’s not that he doesn’t want to play against him! ugh. this is the worst. who knew dating rivals would be this hard?

“maybe i lied earlier,” aomine finally says. “i think i want you guys to win. or-- to get close.”

kagami inhales, about to yell, furious that this means aomine’s going to hold back----

“my body didn’t recover for days last time. i was exhausted.”

shouting contest averted. huh? kagami feels like he’s one step behind.

“i went all out and lost. my best wasn’t good enough back then. but the point was, i could actually try.”

“yeah,” kagami lowers his eyes, hand once again reaching for the necklace which isn’t sitting at his collarbone.

“and seeing you going up against akashi like that-- you, tetsu, the rest of your team. it was something else. so you better show that to me today or i’ll be pissed.”

“you’re not gonna hold back?”

“no. i don’t get anything outta that, don’t you get it? i wanna beat the team that beat rakuzan.”

“yeah?” kagami’s ego is off the charts right now-- or is it his self-esteem? he’s not feeling big-headed by these statements, it’s more like someone he respects so highly in basketball is reaffirming his own talent in it and it’s amazing. it’s so cool. aomine’s so cool. his mood is immediately alleviated and he’s almost forgotten the fog that stopped him from playing only minutes ago.

“we’re gonna win, though,” aomine smirks. “we’re not the same guys as last time.”

“no,” kagami’s turn to smirk ( and it’s the first positive expression in ages ), “i heard you’ve actually been to practise once or twice since then.”

“shut up. i’m gonna wipe that dumb look off your face.”

they’re close. it’s totally normal that these two rivals would be standing inches apart, so kagami doesn’t move away. scarlet eyes, narrowing with a happy smile, dance his gaze across aomine’s face.

kagami thinks about all the times before they got together that they could easily have been fighting if they’d been this close. not recently. recently, kagami’s been able to just kiss him if they’re at home! picture that. kagami wanting to kiss someone, and that particular someone being the coolest idiot he knows! and aomine daiki wanting to kiss him! sometimes, kagami wouldn’t even have said anything to drastically improve the mood, and aomine would kiss him out of the blue! it’s too much to think about that and not be able to do so right now. can’t he kiss him? of all the times, maybe mid-game is the worst. it would be distracting, right? but it’s instinctual. now’s a good moment for it. the perfect moment to do it. they’re outside, though. in the open. with a huff of annoyance ( what a bother to have to relocate! ), kagami makes his decision.

aomine can sense something is about to happen, and opens his mouth to speak, but he’s too slow. kagami takes his wrist and pulls him back towards the court. there's a janitor's closet nearby. kagami's pretty sure he saw it on the way over, and he can definitely smell bleach on the air.

"taiga," aomine slips his wrist free, but keeps pace. yeah, maybe that's wise. keep the touching for when they’re alone. "is that it? I've knocked some sense back into you already?"

"just follow me, alright? it's around here somewhere."

"what is?" it's Aomine's turn to look as though he's two steps behind of the situation. kagami's still smiling, but there's determination in his eyes that he'll carry to the court. aha! here it is! and it's unlocked!

"oh, great," aomine is totally confused and looks so funny as kagami pushes him inside. "you gonna lock me in here to guarantee your win, bakagami?” is he that oblivious? kagami pulls the door shut. "well?"

"well?" kagami repeats incredulously. he has to laugh. "and you call me an idiot!" but he won't leave aomine guessing for long ( because he doesn't want to ). he wraps his arms around his boyfriend in a hug, but it's partly to find him in the dark.

"we could've done this outside, dummy,"

“shut up,” despite his words, kagami came in here to do something, and he knows if he gets caught up in aomine’s games then he’ll miss his chance! and who knows what they’ll do after the match. so it’s now, or tomorrow, and with this kind of thing, he’ll always choose now.

a hand comes up to hold aomine's jaw. the wise cracks stop. arms raise around kagami's middle to return the hug, and now they're kissing. now, hands roam where they couldn’t before. now, as ever, something stirs in his chest and his gut and if he isn’t careful, kagami won’t want to leave. they couldn't have done this outside. even straight couples would be told this kind of display should be reserved for private spaces. they’re chest-to-chest, kagami’s back against the door. aomine always knows what to do.

"daiki," kagami whispers after a minute ( or was it two? three? ), "we should go back."

"you started it,"

"it’s not my fault!”

“i’m just that irresistible, huh?”

yes, actually. kind of. ugh! it’s enough to make kagami pull away, but the hands around his waist hold fast. the moment is over. whether aomine knew that being annoying was enough to snap kagami out of it is up to anyone’s guess. “come on, ahomine, we gotta get back.”

“are you gonna trust me now?”

kagami’s first reaction is to scoff, but aomine’s eyes are serious. kagami wants to say that it wasn’t an issue of trust, it’s just that he has a scar on his heart from when people he loves leave him. but maybe that is trust. aomine hasn’t earnt it yet. the results of this game will show both of their true colours. but he can’t word any of this right now, so he’ll nod. for now, he trusts aomine not to abandon him too. right?

“ah, babe,” aomine drops his hands, “you’re such a bad liar.”

kagami frowns, lowering his gaze. he can’t fight that. maybe it had been a lie? he takes a grounding breath. in through his nose, out through his mouth. it wasn’t. he trusts aomine. and if kagami gets hurt again, he’ll just have to know that there was nothing he could do about it. but it’s the same for aomine too, isn’t it? he’s used to people leaving him because he’s too good. how dumb is that? that people would stop being friends with someone because they’re too fucking good at something? it won’t happen today. it won’t. they like each other. in less than half an hour, the match will be over and this will be nothing more than a memory. determination lights up his eyes, aomine can see it in the dark. kagami will try his hardest to beat him. he will.

“i’m gonna win, daiki.”

“that’s better,” aomine exhales, and squeezes past to exit the closet. he slowly opens the door at first, but the coast must have been clear because he walks out as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to leave a janitor’s closet. “now, focus. watch out you don’t get anymore fouls. what are you on now?”

“two,” kagami replies just a little petulantly. “worry about yourself! now i’m feeling more level-headed, you’re gonna have to pay close attention.”

“level-headed?” he chuckles, “if i lose, i’m definitely gonna blame that kiss. you’re trying to sabotage me.”

“what!” it’s still weird to think that he occupies any of aomine’s thoughts, and too weird that now he’s struggling to concentrate because of him. he’s blushing at the thought! “get your head in the game, dumbass!”

“why are you going red? shouldn’t i be the embarrassed one?”

“no, i’m not! you’re just seeing things!”

they push open the doors to the court together: entering as confidently as two unstoppable forces could. each believed they’d win, it radiated from every pore. kagami’s blush settles because aomine doesn’t push the topic, he must have known it would mess up the redhead’s turbulent headspace again if he did.

he feels so refreshed now. he’s definitely not as worried about the aftermath as before their talk. kagami’s chest can hardly contain how excited he is to get back in the game! he finds his teammates, they’re talking among themselves, having just come back from the locker room, probably. he owes them an apology for being selfish before ( but not an explanation - now is not the time ). he takes another grounding breath before raising his fist and turning back to his boyfriend.

“thanks,” he says sincerely.

“shut up,” aomine rolls his eyes and bumps his knuckles against kagami’s. “don’t let it happen again, knucklehead.” they leave to part ways when he speaks again and makes kagami turn. “hey, see you in the zone.”

kagami can’t fight the smile on his face: it’s all encompassing and apparently contagious if aomine’s newfound grin is anything to go by. “if you can keep up with me.”

his smile doesn’t fade until he’s back at the bench. he gets an earful about not being there to talk battle plans, and he wholeheartedly apologises for being too in his own head in the first half. but he’s good now. kuroko is the first to admit the visible change in kagami’s energy. he believes in him. that helps more than he’s able to admit, and kagami sends him an appreciative smile when kuroko stands up for him. they’re all on the same page now ( even if some of the information is redacted, like kagami’s reason for his hesitation ). he will make it up to his team. and this time, instead of fighting for himself and seirin, kagami will give his all for aomine’s sake, too.

and if he doesn’t win today, he won’t get to fight the other dumbass generation of miracles guys now that their heads are out of their asses! kagami’s hyped up and happy to play again. he’s almost a whole different person. when he meets aomine back on the court, they’re smiling but focused. aomine has the skill to allow for the game to be fun, but kagami’s fighting spirit takes over and the intensity returns.

they meet in the zone. it’s unforgettable.

#aokaga #aokaga fanfic #KNB #knb fanfic #yeah i tagged it ! what of it #so a/n if you will: i cant remember if they always leave the court area place at halftime. i also... didnt check......#but i hope that doesnt distract from the Mood #i meant for this to be a short prompt fic but i got carried away SJDHSJHDSJHD #kagami's mood shifts are impossible like i said i always feel like im writing badly when he goes from :) to >:( to :( to :D #3000 words SJDHJSHDSJHDJHSD ridiculous #in which aomine is a good kind and understanding boyfriend even tho he tells kagami to shut up like 80 times #jk it's 3 times ( i checked ) and i only checked bc i thought it was KAGAMI who was telling him to shut up so much #nope... just the like... once or twice #drabbles.#aokaga.#aonon.#forgot my own tags sjdhsjdhs

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offspring-of-calliope · 4 years

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Peculiar (Newsies Fanfiction) - Chapter 2

Description: Jack just wanted to have a normal conversation but Race, Albert and Finch are impossible.

words: 2041

Warning: slight period-typical homophobia (it's not explicitly stated but it's implied)

A/N: I still got no real plan for this, like there is no actual plot in my head yet but little snippets of action/moments. So, we'll see how this'll work out. Anyway, I decided to include more sidecouples, so you'll be seeing established Blush and also Redfinch but I'm not sure how slow the burn will be. Thanks for the likes on the last chapter.

I hope you enjoy and maybe leave a comment when you do,

Lélodie

-----

The back rooms of the theatre were filled with loud noises when Jack entered them. Some of the younger Newsies, who weren't too exhausted from selling papers all day, were running around, trying to chase each other. In one corner, Jack could spot Jojo, who was trying to teach Romeo and Elmer how to sew. It took him a while to recognize Race, Finch and Albert at one of the tables, playing some kind of card game. Since he couldn't see Crutchie anywhere, he supposed that he was already up on the rooftop – their usual sleeping spot – and decided to approach the card game table.

Race was the first one to notice him. “Aye, Cowboy! What happened to yer shirt?” With a teasing grin, he offered him a free chair at the table.

“An' while we's at it, what happened to yer arms?” Finch added, a concerned look on his face, while Jack was sitting down.

Confused, Jack checked his arms. Up until this moment, he hadn't even noticed the bruises which scattered them. Right in the places where he had blocked Bulky Guy's blows. He sighed. These were going to be a pain in the ass while sleeping. “Oh, that's nothing. Some fancy snob was jealous of my shirt, so he splashed it with muddy water an' another guy was tryna soak me for tryin' ta clean the rest of my body.”

The concerned look didn't leave Finch's face and he put down his cards to inspect Jack's bruises. “Ya didn't... ya know, use your powers, did ya?”

Jack wasn't exactly sure, why, but he felt guilty all of a sudden. “Yeah, I did. But in an alleyway which was all dark 'n' scary so I think, maybe that guy's been after me for longer.”

“I bet ya hit him good, too, right? I's tryna imagine his face when he realised he can't win a fight against the great Jack Kelly,” Albert said, not nearly as worried as Finch. Race looked as if he was more interested in the fight than the circumstances as well.

Finch just shook his head at Albert and Race, took his cards again and decided to stay silent. The three of them continued their game.

“Of course I's delivered him a pretty good fight,” Jack claimed, smirking. “But I have to admit, I was gonna loose. The guy was, like, really big. And then, there was this boy that jus'... He told the guy ta let me go an' he did. No kidding, I think this boy might be a charmspeaker.”

Everyone at the table glanced at him in disbelief. Eventually, Albert said, “Jack... You can't jus' accuse any person who did somethin' of bein' like us.”

“I don' 'accuse' him, first off,” Jack started but Race interrupted him.

“Yes, ya do. You do this every time. You's jus' tryin' to be a hero again – findin' a little Peculiar who ya can talk into joinin' the Newsies and comin' to Medda's.”

“Well, I wasn't wrong the last time,” Jack replied, referring to the time he invited Sniper to join them. “An' it's not like I's doing it on purpose. I just want them to be safe, ya know?”

“An' there ain't nothin' wrong with that, Jackie-Boy. But ya can't jus' walk around an' force your opinion on these people,” Race insisted. “Besides, why d'ya think that this boy that helped you has powers? Maybe he just knew the guy or somethin'.”

Jack didn't even get the chance to respond because in this moment, Finch groaned loudly. “Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me. I's lost again. Albie, don't leave me hangin', you gotta win now.”

Puzzled, Jack glanced at the cards and then at his friends. “I guess the fate's on Race's side today?” Race's power was... an interesting one, he thought. Every time he put effort into something, the universe seemed to flip a coin. Either, the thing Race was doing would go terribly wrong or turn out to become perfect. Due to the possibility of doing everything wrong, Race often considered these powers as a burden. But when he had a good run, he was on top of the world.

“Don't even ask,” Albert said, taking a look at his own cards and groaning as well.

“An' I guess that's not a good thing for you guys because you, like bet or somethin'?”

Race grimaced but suddenly, Albert was grinning. “If Team Telebrothers wins against Race, he has to tell us who's his new sweetheart.” Finch cringed at the word 'Telebrothers'. It was a word that Elmer had invented once because both Finch's and Albert's powers started with the syllable 'tele'. Albert knew how much Finch hated this invented word so he used it as often as he could.

“Oh, shut up, Al. It's not even as if I'd have a chance, even without the powers.”

Jack flashed Race a disbelieving look. “What do's yer powers have ta do with that?”

“Everything!” Race retorted and draped himself dramatically over the back of his chair. “Don't ya remember what happened when Al an' I was still a thing? It was like my powers did everythin' ta end this whole thing – which they's did in the end. It's not gonna work as long as a part of myself's makin' somethin' serious impossible.”

Jack considered this for a moment. Then, he mused, “Well, maybe Albert jus' wasn't the right one for ya.”

“Thanks, pal, that ya think it's my fault that we ain't havin' our relationship any more,” Albert said, looking comically devastated.

“Right, I mean, it was so romantic, bein' teleported by yer fella every time ya two were gonna get ta some touchy stuff,” Race responded with an affectionate eye roll and adjusted his position on his chair.

“There was a damn ceiling fallin' down on us 'cause of yer powers! Yeah, 'cause that's been so sweet of ya, Racer.”

“Me's always as sweet as honey, darlin'.” Race winked and blew Albert a kiss.

“Ya'll ready now?” Suddenly, Finch was talking and Jack couldn't help but notice how he snapped a bit during his question. He knew it wasn't fair of him but he sometimes wondered if Finch was a bit homophobic. It wouldn't be that big of a surprise, considering the general view on same-sex-relationships, but Finch was usually such a nice guy that Jack couldn't fathom him invalidating others.

He remembered the time when relationships between two boy newsies were something scary and new to everyone. Stolen kisses in dark alleyways, two hands holding each other when nobody was watching. The first one who had openly addressed the topic had been Kid Blink. There had been something going on between him and Mush for a really long time until he, all of a sudden, had raised his voice when every newsie had been hanging around in the theatre.

“Listen everybody,” he had said. “I'mma say somethin' and I's only gonna say it once. Don't think for one moment that I's not able ta notice the stares and the whispers every time me an' Mush are getting' close. I know that some of you's only curious but for those who's judgin' us 'cause they's ashamed of knowin' some queers: Every newsie who's livin' under this roof is part of a big family. Most of us didn't get ta know a life in a normal, caring family but in our family, there's gotta be only love an' respect. Ain't nobody's makin' fun of Jack sproutin' water out of nowhere or Finch movin' things around with his mind. Ain't nobody's rattin' out the Peculiars among us. It's the same with the queers. We's different but we jus' wanna live our lives like everyone else does. So if anybody has a problem with that – there's the door. Ya can either pull the stick outta your ass or loose the greatest family there is.” Silence. Nobody had even dared to move a muscle, let alone interrupt Kid Blink. That guy could be really intimidating if he wanted to. “Thanks for yer attenton. I'mma go kiss my fella now.”

After that, many others had openly admitted being queer, for example Race and Albert. Jack himself had also said that he could imagine being with a guy. Romeo flirted with anything that moved anyway. Then, there were many, many others, even some who just wanted to try and see. But there were also some, not many but still, that left that day. Some of them, they saw never again. A shudder went down Jack's spine and he dismissed the memory. This was slowly turning into a direction too painful to think of.

“So, what's you gonna do about that 'Peculiar' of yours?” Finch asked Jack.

Jack hesitated for a moment. “I'm gonna find him tomorrow. And then, I'm gonna prove ta you that he really is special.”

“Uh, looks like our Jackie-Boy here has got the hots for his saviour,” Race teased, shoving Jack slightly against the shoulder.

Jack sighed. “Oh my, why do I even put up with ya guys?”

“Come on, Jack. Ya know ya love us,” Albert said, laughing. “But Race, you shouldn't be the one to talk, you's not better than him.”

“Maybe. But still, you's never gonna know who I's been talkin' about all mornin', noon and evenin'.” With a triumphant smile, Race played his card. “I won.”

“I hate everything,” Albert said, while Finch was banging his head against the table with a soft: “Who's even surprised?”

Jack decided that it was better to let Albert and Finch suffer in silence, so he bid them goodbye and went to search for something to eat before going up to the roof. Maybe Crutchie would support him.

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meowdymista · 3 years

Text

i. the one that got away

Warning: spoilers

Part of Devil’s Backbone project - Masterlist - redrafted on ao3

“I think someone’s coming.”

Sadie leans out from around the station, expecting another false alarm. Abigail keeps her head buried in her son’s hair, breathing in his scent, trying to keep calm. This was why she stayed in camp as long as she had. It was bad enough waiting for his damn horse for the duration of whatever job he was on. The anxiety driven adrenaline was always pumping, and the sudden rush of relief often left her over tired and snappy - she prays under her breath, eyes scrunched closed. Bring him back to me. Please bring him back to me and I will never shout again - I will be silent, I will be complacent, just please, please-

“Is that...?” Riding haggard down the train tracks, he’s rasping, bloody and muddy, but oh so very there. Spotting her with her long blonde braid and the fitted trousers, he forces the crook of his mouth to chisel into his cheek, and tips his hat with the last of his energy.

“Mrs Adler.”

“Arthur!”

Her soft features shatter. Tilly is already running into the road, not looking back, her sobs the opposite end of the spectrum..

“Arthur! Arthur, you made it!”

“Let’s git him off his horse. Tilly, think you can hitch her?” The grunt is undeniable. Raspy, rough and deep. It’s not him. She squeezes her eyes tighter, stars erupting under her lids - Please, please, please-

“Mama! Uncle Arthur’s back!” She tries to gather the energy to keep him close, but her body is a bag of bones with no tendons. The boy tries to tug her up by her index finger, but the weight of the world is suffocating. Her boy - their boy. All that wasted time. She still couldn’t tell him.

“Forget me,” grumbles Arthur, his spurs clanking over the planks. “Where’s Abigail?”

“She’s- she’s here. What happened?”

“Abigail-” The heat that tilts her chin is gentle despite the calloused skin. Her body responds, sweeping her face to the left and then back into the safespace of his hand. “Abigail, look at me.”

A sob heaves out of her chest, her lashes dropping their heavy load as he comes into focus, dishevelled, beaten, but unmistakably there. He takes a breath to speak, but it catches and his own mouth droops lower than she has ever seen. His other hand holds her neck, supporting it. “He-” The tears fall with his hat. “Abigail.”

She throws herself up against him, sobbing uncontrollably, crying harder when she catches Jack’s small voice asking Tilly if Mama is hurt, is he hurting her, she looks like she’s hurting.

“He came back.”

“John?” She scrambles, trying to push him back so she can see the verity in his eyes, but his grip is surprisingly firm for his shrinking frame.

“Abigail…”

“Where is he? Where-” And already her energy is used. She slumps back against the wall, her weight taking him with her.

“Woah there cowboy,” growls Sadie, pulling him back, but Abigail is past caring. There was no weight left to crush her. She feels him resist at first, before relaxing, allowing the woman to pull him back until he is lying on the planks barely able to catch his breath between coughing fits. She hears the slug of water Tilly retrieves from his satchel, and even hears the air as he shakes his hand at her, still spluttering breathlessly.

He groans loudly as the fit passes and he accepts the drink.

“Did you say something about John?” Sadie is squatted next to him, holding his shoulder to keep him balanced. Tilly is knelt the other side, wiping the gleam from his brow. “What happened when you got back? Micah? Dutch? The money?”

“Jack?” he gasps suddenly.

“I’m here, Uncle Arthur!” The man sighs with relief, or exhaustion. Jack brushes Abigail’s hair from her face. “Mama, are you sick?”

Sadie curses. “I think she’s passed out.”

“Nah, she’s there.” He coughs and staggers to his feet despite Tilly’s objections. “She’s in shock. C’mon, we all need-” He hacks away again, shaking his head as his adopted sister rubs his back. “We need a roof. Somewhere to stay. Somewhere-”

“Somewhere to get you two rested up,” finishes Sadie. He nods. “Tilly, I think there’s a room above the gunsmith.”

“I’ll be right back,” she promises, lifting her yellow skirts, her beaten boots kicking the dirt up behind her.

“Unser Retter!”

“No, no, he’s fine, leave him be.”

“Ist sie verletzt?”

“She’s with me too. I just sent my friend to get us a room.” Sadie tries to disrupt the amalgamation of foreign chatter, but it’s sweeping over Abigail’s head, swirling into nothingness.

“This man- he helped my family. His friend; she is sick also?”

She sighs in exasperation. “Listen, we’ve just been through a lot, we don’t need saving. Like I said, my friend-”

A male voice gushes more foreign sounds.

“My father. He wants to help. He- he-” The small voice sighs. “Er wird sie heben. Heben?”

“I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I think he’s offering to carry her,” growls Arthur. “We’re fine, friend. Thank you. I can get her.”

“Arthur, you ain’t even carryin’ yourself right now!”

“You and Tilly need to get yourselves out of here.” He looks up to Sadie, blue eyes begging, each breath rasping from his open mouth. “There’s too many of us. I’ll take care of ‘em but I need you-”

“What you need, Arthur Morgan, is to quit trying to be the hero,” she snaps, grunting as she lifts Abigail to her feet. “You helped me out at Hanging Dog Ranch, and I did my best to get John’s family out. You can’t do this alone. Let me help.”

“Fine,” he wheezes, stroking Abigail’s arm as Sadie helps her in the direction Tilly left it.

“Where’s Pa?”

“Listen, Jack. I need you to be brave. Can you do that for me?” The boy nods, eyes wide with fear. “Follow Mrs Adler and your ma. Miss Tilly is getting you a bed for the night.”

“You not comin’?” calls Sadie, glaring back.

“I’ve been runnin’ with Dutch over twenty years. They know who I am. It’s the best chance I can give yer.”

“Sir, you stay with my family.”

He grins. “See, hospitality abound!” He looks back to the girl and her father. “I can’t accept that. I’m a dangerous man, but thank you.” “We found you on the road,” the girl replies. “We brought you home. My father, he has medicine.”

“I’m past medicine, miss.”

“My uncle is doctor in Germany. You come with us. We have medicine.”

******

They pass a week in Annesburg, Sadie scouting ahead with advice of various homesteads.

“If we could get to Strawberry,” murmurs Arthur as the blonde mother forces a bowl of grey blue paste into his hands. “There’s a couple of cabins up there. A taxidermist who’s never home and a newly married feller that rode off the cliff.” “How’d you know about those kinda things, Arthur?” she asks incredulously as he spoons the goo into his mouth. “And what the hell is that?”

“I quit askin’.”

“I know I knocked Pearson the whole time we were in camp, but right now he looks like the chef of the century.”

His chuckle tickles his throat into a cough. “They make proper food too. I think it’s medicine of some kind. Or poison. Either way, no one else here seems to get it. Want some?”

“I’ll pass.” Sadie surveys him. His eyes are a little less dark, his breathing nowhere near as raspy and somehow his face is a little fuller. “You know, Morgan, I thought you were dead when you rode off.”

“So did I.” He coughs into the handkerchief again before clearing his throat. “Listen, go North outta here an’ take the road North East, up the hillside. Eventually you’ll see a little cabin with blue shutters - last time I went by, the place was empty and had been for a while. Might be a better place for y’all to stay ‘til we can get somethin’ more permanent.”

“What about you?”

“I got contacts. Met a widow an’ a coupl’a hermits.” He shudders as he forces the last of the paste down his throat. “One’s a self proclaimed King. I gotta check the small print, but I’m pretty sure if I kill him, that makes me the new monarch.”

“Oo, look at you! Got your sights set high, huh?” Sadie lands a soft punch to his shoulder as he coughs out a laugh. “Living up to the legend!”

*****

“SNAP!”

“Yeh’re gettin’ good at this, Jack.”

“I’m winning! I’m winning!”

“You sure are, son. C’mon, I’m gonna go a bit quicker now, yeh ready?”

“Damn straight!”

“Hey now, what would your mama do if she heard you cursin’ like tha’?” There’s a small nervous giggle. “Naw, this time it’s just between us boys. Don’t be sayin’ tha’ in front of your mama, ok, Jack?”

“Sorry, Uncle Arthur.”

“S’alright, just don’t go makin’ a habit of it, yer hear? Else she won’t let me play you again.”

The silence is broken by the flick of cards. The world is swirling, knocking her sick. Everything aches and her head is heavy - it takes a few seconds for her brain to catch up. The damp is leaking into her hair before she realises that she’s crying.

“Mama?”

“It’s ok, Jack. Keep practicing.” A chair drags dully across the rug and the rugged warm hands encase the folded frozen pair on her stomach. “Abigail?”

The whisper is warm and dances over her skin, waking it up. Blinking, she tries to open her eyes, but there is too much moisture. His thumb strokes her lashes clean, and she tries again. Arthur is watching her with concern, his blond hair a halo in the light from the window.

“Hey there, darlin’. You thirsty?” She shakes her head, her neck stiff, but as she swallows to speak her throat is dry. “Here, we got you a cup, just take a sip for me.”

She obeys, accepting his help as he tips the cup to her lips. Through the gap her swollen eyes can make, she sees Jack turning cards and counting them to himself. “Did you teach him to do that?” she croaks.

Following her gaze, he chuckles. “Blackjack was no fun without a dealer.” She scowls as he leans back to cough. “I’m just messin’. Kinda.”

She sighs, a smile trying to fight it’s way onto her face, but the anchors pull down at her cheeks. “You said- Something about John?”

He hesitates, glancing at the boy as he scrunches up his handkerchief. She touches his hand, the one that’s still on the bed.

“Please?”

He sighs, fingers scratching into his beard. “I will.” He meets her gaze, his eyes sad and sick. “But not with the boy here. Later. I promise.”

#rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fic #red dead fic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #abigail roberts #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #meowdymista

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voldemorthatesnose96 · 4 years

Text

RETROUVAILLES

Chapter one ❤️❤️❤️

Chapter two ❤️❤️❤️

The final chapter will be up tomorrow, hopefully!

“Seriously, why does everything I wear is lame?”

Sander throws the T-shirt he’s holding onto the pile of clothes on his bed, also just fully realised that most of them are black. Just imagine, if he’s gonna meet Robbe today wearing all black and the other person will be wearing warm colours and everything. As far as Sander can remembers, Robbe never wears black or dark clothes on his Insta.

“But do I really need to change my appearance all of a sudden, though? Is it THAT necessary?” he mumbles to himself as he looking at the mirror.

Just when Sander’s about to give up, his eyes accidentally catches the white turtleneck inside his wardrobe. He vaguely remembers that the turtleneck is a gift from his father as a Christmas present a year ago, and because he was pissed at his father back then, he never wears it and even forgets it exists.

He stares at it for a while before deciding to try it on, and turns out that it isn’t... look bad? His bleached-blond hair matches really well with the white turtleneck, and because he’s a bit extra, Sander also puts his black leather jacket on—the jacket that always been part of him for as long as he can remembers.

“Okay, this looks fine.” He says as he smiles brightly, finally feeling satisify about his looks.

Being nervous is an understatement. Last night, he even facetime’d for hours with Mikael, Joseph and Gabe on how to make the best impression during the first date. Well, this isn’t exactly a date but his friends insisted that it is. It was really chaotic and to be honest, Sander was only listening to their non-stop blabberings about his love life and how pitiful he looked last night. Such a wholesome friends, they are.

Before Sander leaves the flat, he sends a text to Robbe.

Earthlingoddity :

I’m heading out now. Are you too?

Robbe replies not long after.

Sterkerdanijzer :

I’m already here half an hour ago hahaha

Eartlingoddity :

oh shit! Sorry, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Wait for me, wouldn’t you?

Sterkerdanijzer :

I’m not going anywhere. Careful on your way, Sander

It doesn’t take long for Sander to finally arrives, for the distance between the caffe and his flat is only twenty minutes away by riding a bike. Autumn wind blows his hair, makes him shivers a little as he tightens the jacket to get some warmth.

But this is it. He’s gonna see Robbe IJzermans in person after such a long and painful months of having a silent crush on him. Would it be too lame if the first thing that comes out from his mouth is a compliment on how Robbe looks today? Or, the weather?

No no no, definitely NOT the weather.

What about the food?

THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THE FOOD?!

UGH!

Sander’s thoughts bursts like a bubble when he sees Robbe sitting near the window, while his dog is sleeping on his lap but the marvelous sight of it all is Robbe in glasses. ROBBE IJZJERMANS IS WEARING A FUCKING GLASSES!!! And Sander is too in awe and dumbstruck to realise that Robbe is actually calling his name for a couple times already.

“Sander, over here! Sander!”

Sander walks towards him while keeping his expression as neutral as possible. It’s gonna be super awkward if he exposes his excitement and nervousness too bluntly. His nose accidentally catches the smell of woody-scent perfume from the cute guy in front of him once he sits.

“Hi, Robbe,” Sander says, smiling politely. “sorry for making you wait that long. I didn’t know you’d come early.”

Robbe shakes his small head, “it’s okay. Besides, I was just taking Peter Pan on a walk,” he looks down at the adorable sleeping puppy with soft sigh. “Hope you don’t mind he’s tagging along.”

“Not at all.”

“It’s just, I’m too nervous to meet you alone.”

Wait, what?

What did he say just now?

Nervous?

“Come again?” Sander asks. Not believing what he heard. “you’re nervous to meet me?”

Robbe nods slowly, “Stupid, huh?”

Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach, Sander asks, “But, why?”

“Well, duh, you’re a famous YouTuber,” Robbe laughs. One of his hand scratches Peter Pan’s ears. Sander notices and wonders how it feels like to be touched like that. “and I’m just a weird guy who’s constantly wearing a flower crown in every pictures and videos.”

Sander leans forward to look straight at Robbe’s eyes and says, “You’re not weird.”

Robbe lets a huff, “I don’t believe you.”

“What if I told you that whatever you do is adorable? Is it good enough?”

Before Robbe can answers, the waitress comes to their table, “one mint choco chip milkshake for you,” then he turns to Sander. “and one affogato for you. Please enjoy!”

“But, I haven’t ordered...” Sander mumbles.

“It’s on me.” Robbe cuts him as he fixes his glasses.

“Really?”

“Yep!”

“Um... thanks? But, you really don’t have to.”

Robbe sips his milkshake before answering, “I know but then I remember that you said their affogato is sublime, so I ordered it for you.”

Ah, it’s not just butterflies in his stomach no more; but the whole goddamn zoo! The simple fact that Robbe actually remembers what he said yesterday is making Sander wants to shout from the rooftop.

The rumor’s true—this affogato is fucking delicious! It melts instantly in his mouth, not too bitter but not too sweet either. Sander lets a moan, not knowing Robbe is actually looking at him, slightly smirking.

When Sander has finally back to earth, he gives Robbe an apologetic smile, “sorry, that was embarrassing.”

“Don’t be. Glad you like it.”

Sander clears his throat, “okay, so, about our collab. I was thinking about doing Bon Jovi song cover. What do you think? Any other options?”

Robbe goes silent for a moment—his expression’s serious, his brows furrow like he’s been working on a difficult test. Sander sees Robbe’s lips pouting and once again, he wonders how it feels like to kiss them.

Snap out of it, Driesen! He says to himself sternly. Don’t let anything distracts you, even when the biggest distraction is in front of you right now!

“I’d say we do some impromptu singing,” Robbe says after five minutes and quickly elaborates when he sees Sander’s confused face. “I mean, we don’t have to decide it now. It’ll be much more surprising and entertaining if we don’t know what’ll happen tomorrow, right?”

“Is there any particular reason why you said the last sentences? We have to be prepared for what’s to come, right? Including the concept of our collab.”

“Jawel... but to be honest, the more I think of any concept, the more blurry it is.”

Sander sighs, “so, you suggests that the concept will be ‘no concept’ at all?”

Robbe nods his head, while caressing Peter Pan’s head who’s now fully awake and being so hyperactive in Robbe’s arms.

“Lucky puppy!” Sander thought in an unreasonable jealousy.

“Indeed, Sander, indeed,” Robbe says as cheerful as his puppy. His glasses is a bit crooked. “What will happen tomorrow, let it be. What matters the most is now.”

“That’s too deep for a collab’s concept talks, don’t you think?” Sander asks, half joking half serious.

“Ha ha ha, maybe. You were suddenly turned tense when you talk about it, too formal. So, I’m trying to melt the ice.”

One thing that Sander recently discovers is that maybe he’ll never wins an argument against Robbe IJzermans. How can he resists these Bambi eyes, fluffy looking hair and his cute CUTE voice? There’s no way, and he doesn’t mind it. At all.

“Okay, you win,” Sander smirks. “But we’re gonna do it at my place. Take it or leave it.”

Robbe gives a challenging smiles, “alright!”

Sander bites his bottom lip while his eyes looking at Robbe’s lips shamelessly. The hell with subtlety. To his surprise, Robbe winks at him.

Fucking hell!

“Want to take a walk? Looks like your puppy needs to go out.”

Robbe stares at Peter Pan lovingly and kiss its nose, “you’re right. Let’s get outta here!”

Just when they’re about to leave, suddenly Robbe says something that almost makes Sander stumbles over his feet.

“You look really handsome today, Jack Frost.”

#wtfock #wtfam #IT GOT YEETED FROM THE TAG #fanfic

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 4 years

Text

Darkstache Week Day Four: Video

Days: 1, 2 , 3, 4

After being kicked out of the house by mistake, Wilford decides to start working on a little surprise for Dark. It’s silly, it’s cheesy, but it’s entirely Wilford.

Word Count: 657

“If you’re so sure of your love, why not go somewhere else with it and leave me alone?!”

Wilford was an affectionate man with the worst timing. Surprising Dark on a day off with a breakfast consisting of homemade pancakes topped with maple syrup, chocolate, and strawberries would have made anyone’s heart flutter… But this was Dark, whose stress levels were to the eyeballs. The pancakes were met with a fury, and resulted in an argument. Those words were snapped to Wilford before the entity used his abilities to teleport Wilford out of the house and into the back garden.

“Well, shit,” Wilford grumbled. He pulled himself onto his feet, thankful the young rose bush was unharmed, and made his way to the back door. It was locked. For now, he was barred from the house. Fortunately, an old shed neither used had been the focus of an old labour of love and was converted into a mini studio. It was ideal for when Mark and Wilford were recording or brainstorming skits together. Right now, it would be his shelter from the bitter cold of Dark’s heart.

(Plus, it was unlocked after he forgot to lock it last time. Score!)

The first little while was spent fixing some shelves. For reasons Wilford wasn’t bothered figuring out, he had a natural talent for handyman work. Shelves, electrical wiring, even basic plumbing were things that he could somehow work on and complete quite well. But as always, his attention grew scattered, and he was recording a video before he knew where he was. No crew, no skits, no props. Just him and the camera.

“Will? Will?” A worried Dark crept into the shed. It was evening. He hadn’t realised the extent of what he had done until he emerged after the bulk of his stress had been worked out through phone calls and emails. To his immense relief, Wilford was asleep at the desk with the computer screen still running. Oddly enough, it appeared that Wilford was editing footage of himself. But as Dark tried to move the mouse to save the file and turn off the computer, the video sprung to life.

“Hi Handsome. Ya said I was ta go off an’ do somethin’ with my love… So I did! I haven’t got a lot here, but I made this video outta love. Because… I love ya a lot. Even if I interrupt a meetin’ with pancakes, or I roll over somethin’ important in my sleep, or I try ta pull ya outside fer a quick smooch durin’ a meetin’. I wanna remind ya every day that ya mean the world ta me. No matter what happens, yer always gonna be my favourite shadow in th’ whole world. Not even my own shadow wins first place.” He paused with a mischievous grin, which only encouraged Dark to softly chuckle. The video continued on as something dropped behind him and Wilford had to hurry to fix that. It appeared that the video was still a work in progress.

Deciding to let the video be a surprise, Dark saved it and minimised the program before gently shaking Wilford.

“Will..? Come on, you need to come inside and warm up.” As usual, the reporter grumbled in protest and curled up a little more. “Very well. I guess I’ll have to go back inside and lie on the couch all by myself -”

“Nooo…” Wilford whined, blindly reaching up to grab Dark’s hands. “Stay here with me..”

“Absolutely not. You’re sprawled on a desk. That’s both terribly uncomfortable and unhealthy. I owe you an apology and I’d rather do it in the house, alright?” Eventually, Wilford pulled himself onto his feet, insisting Dark turned away so he couldn’t see what was on the screen.

The video was a simple proof of adoration, but it would be kept as a surprise for the perfect day when there was no work at all to do.

#darkstache #projectdarkstache2020 #darkstacheweek2020 #writersofmark #markiplier fanfiction #Cracked Mirror (Dark)#Rose Petals (Wilford)#(very nearly didn't write this today. Really didn't feel like doing anything creative today #so it's probably one of my weaker ones.)#(shorter today; so no read more)#(and my laptop is about to die byeeee)

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anaklnky · 5 years

Text

𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕠 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 [bucky barnes x stark!reader] alternative end.

⚠️MAJOR ENDGAME SPOILER⚠️

🔗 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bucky barnes x reader || tony stark x daughter!reader || avengers x reader

📖 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when tony died, y/n stark resurrects him with her healing powers. but when bucky and tony think the worst of the outcome, maybe it might just be fate.

📣 𝐚/𝐧: so, the people have SpOkeN! they want an alternative ending. so what you want, i shall provide. i hope you enjoy :] also - if you haven't read the first ending, it might help if you do so! another thing is, if you HAVE read the other ending and don't wish to read some of it again, i have left a time stamp from where you can start to read the new ending. :]

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst... but it's better :"]

"FRIDAY what will happen if i bring dad back?" she ask the AI in a hushed tone.

"it's a risky 50/50 chance miss." FRIDAY ensured. y/n didn't care about risk anymore. her life had been full of risks.

"which 50 is the strongest?" y/n asked, biting her lip. she reached tony and looked down at him.

"dying." FRIDAY replied vaguely. y/n gulped.

"and if i survive?"

"intense care will be needed miss stark." y/n smirked at the fact FRIDAY refused to call her mrs barnes. instead the software called her by her madain name or just miss.

"well, here goes nothing." y/n sniffled. she looked back at bucky and nodded. her attention then went back to her dad. she looked strongly at his body. she could do this. but what would the consequences be. death or survival?

"everybody move!" y/n called. a few people moved back. but bucky stood where he was.

"please. move." she said. the rest of them did. unsure of what she was about to do. but bucky had a good idea of what.

"y/n-" but before he could announce his word of disagreement. y/n had started her work.

blue and white flares fell from her hands and attached themselves to tony's body. the colour from his once pale face, had started to fall through.

y/n's body started to collapse. her hands grew shakey. her swell cheeks had sunk in, leaving her cheekbones bare. y/n's bright eyelids had fallen and left her e/c eyes a dark deathly colour. that's when pain seeped through.

"y/n stop this!" she could hear. she didn't know who spoke, but she heard it clearly. y/n stared further at tony, hoping for him to open his eyes at least.

his body had resurrected. it looked as good as new. the once enflamed right arm, had been repaired and the soft skin was shown. the cuts on his face and neck had been cleansed and had disappeard. leaving no trace of being there.

with one final flick of her fingers, she screamed. she screamed until her dad was alive and well. she screamed for the physical pain she felt. she screamed for love. her love for her dad. her love for the team. and her love for bucky. and with that last push, tony's eyes blinked open fast.

y/n let herself go. she flew back and hit the ground. tony gasped out loud, breaking for air.

pepper shot forward and craddled tony in her arms.

people were releaved to see tony alive. but some were more worried about someone else. y/n.

bucky ran over to y/n. pulling her into his arms.

"y/n, come on doll. come on." he said hushed. her eyelids were closed. bucky was mentally beating himself up.

-> -> -> read from here -> -> ->

bucky brought y/n closer to him and placed his ear upon her chest. listening for a heartbeat.

and there it was. it was faint. but it was there.

bucky sadly smiled to himself. he pushed y/n's hair back and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"you're gonna be okay doll." he cooed. knowing full on she couldn't hear him.

that's when tony had sauntered up to his son-in-law and daughter.

tony had never thought he would pluck up the nerve to call bucky his son-in-law. not after germany. but he had learnt to realise that what y/n had told him that day, was indeed true. it wasn't her bucky. it was the winter soldier. it was HYDRA. and tony had realised that when his daughter walked wway that day.

"is she okay?" tony asked. his iron suit was stood up behind them, open from him walking out of it.

"she has a heartbeat," bucky replied, scared. "but it's weak." he sniffed.

tony had tears streaming down his face. but he held composer. his daughter's life was at stake. the last thing he needed was to act out and make a rash idea.

tony looked at bucky and frowned sadly.

"don't worry barnes, she'll be fine." tony sent him a sad smile.

"FRIDAY, set heart stabilzers to charge." tony muttered.

"yes sir." she said.

"you might wanna put her down barnes." tony suggested.

bucky rested y/n on the ground gently. making sure not to hurt her head. he then stood back a little bit. not wanting to be too far from her, if something was to go wrong.

"defribillator ready sir." FRIDAY said.

"go."

with that the defribillators in y/n's leather jacket started up.

a blue light emmerged from the gaps in the zipper of her jacket. a small zip noise was heard. y/n's body was jolted upwards. she then slouched back.

bucky's arms were crossed. his face contoured with worry. tears making their way down his face and soaking into his facial hair.

steve walked up behind bucky and placed his arm on his shoulder.

"she'll be okay buck. she's in safe hands now." steve muttered.

bucky looked back at his best friend and shone a small smile. the smile showed hurt.

"i hope so stevey. i hope so."

bucky's attention was soon grabbed as a loud gasp was heard.

y/n was alive.

tony slumped onto the floor and wrapped his arms around y/n. he then took her body into his lap and craddled her.

y/n coughed and spluttered. eyelids still heavy and soft cheeks; tainted with blood.

tony looked at his daughter and smiled. he brought her head up to his. putting her forehead against his.

"don't you dare try something like that again little miss." tony said sternly.

"jeez dad, you've been alive what? 5 minutes and you're already as ungrateful as yesterday." y/n chuckled, making her wheezd out into a coughing fit.

"and see? that's what you get for scaring your old man." tony sighed, laughing small.

"y/n-" bucky hovered above his wife.

"buck-" she looked up at him. his hair covering his bloodshot eyes.

bucky, too, crashed to the floor. the rubble crunching under his boots.

tony pushed y/n up, so she was sitting up.

"you scared the shit outta me doll." bucky sniffed. y/n smiled. she pushed his fallen hair out his face and behind his ears.

"i'm sorry buck. it won't happen again." y/n replied.

"it better not." tony and bucky said together. the two looked at each other and nodded. agreeing on something for the first time.

bucky rushed into y/n's arms. not letting her go. afraid she would disappear forever. he gripped onto her leather jacket for dear life.

"buck-" y/n coughed out. "too tight babe."

bucky snapped back to reality and let y/n go. in fear of hurting her more.

"sorry," he said. "i'm sor-"

"sshh, you did nothing." y/n shushed him. "i'm just tired and am in a lot of pain."

bucky looked down at his hands and then it hit him. the rings. her rings. they were still in his. after all of that, he still held y/n's wedding bands in his fist.

bucky took y/n's left hand in his.

"i believe these belong to you mrs barnes."

he slide the engagement and wedding band onto her ring finger. the diamond on the engagement band look a little grubby. but nothing that couldn't be cleaned when all was back to normal.

"i believe they do." y/n gleamed at her husband.

she reached up to his collar on his suit and pulled him weakly into her space.

"i love you bucky barnes." y/n said.

"i love you too y/n barnes." bucky replied softly.

bucky then pushed himself forward; placing his lips on hers. his scruff brushing slightly upon her bruised skin. the kiss was short and gentle. but showed just as much love as any other kiss they had shared.

the moment was ruined by tony as he spoke up.

"ahem - i know you two are married and all, but we have a minor here. and he doesn't need to be seeing this." tony sighed.

y/n and bucky shot a look at peter. peter looked back.

"what?" he shrugged.

"nothing kid." tony waved off.

"really dad?" bucky pulled y/n off of the floor and into his side. keeping her from falling to the floor. "we've been married for three years. you're gonna have to get used to the whole thing."

"but i don't need to see you two make out though do i?" tony fired back, smirking.

"really? i should tell you the same." y/n laughed. bucky laughed too at her remark.

"alright little miss, you win this round." tony held his hands up.

"dad, anything to do with bucky; i will always win." she said as she looked up at bucky. he looked down at her, smiling.

"alright that's enough, lets get this together?" tony stated.

"sounds like a plan." y/n replied.

with that, the avengers walked away from the battle against thanos, alive. just one casualty.

but after that day, both bucky and tony had realised how much of an impact little y/n had on their lives. without one, the other wasn't the same.

bucky thought he had lost his wife.

tony thought he had lost his eldest daughter.

and the avengers thought they had lost a part of the family.

but after the battle, tony had learnt to except bucky as family. and treasured him as much as he did y/n. if it wasn't for that one moment where he saw how much love was shared between bucky and y/n, he wouldn't have done any if it.

"you promise you won't hurt my little girl?" tony asked, eyes winced.

bucky smiled at the overprotective father.

"i promise mr stark, i shall love and care for y/n until the day i no longer walk this planet."

tony smiled and shrugged.

"seems like a good enough answer. welcome to the family barnes." tony said, holding his hand out.

bucky too it and shook it, stepping closer to tony and smiling more.

"please, mr stark, it's bucky." bucky said.

"then you better start calling me tony, bucky" tony replied.

and that was the start of a beautiful beginning...

so. it's done! i hope it was all good.

don't forget if you want to be in my taglist, just say so! don't be shy.

i'm also always up for conversation. whether that's about writing, marvel, sebastian stan, anything! i am always up for a good chat :]

permanent tags.

@supernaturallover2002

@classyunknownlover

#bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #tony stark angst #tony stark x reader #tony stark #tony stark fluff #iron man x reader #winter soldier x reader #iron man #the winter soldier #marvel #avengers #avengers endame spoilers #avengers endgame #avengers x reader

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angelofthequeers · 4 years

Text

Ladybug and Reine Nuit: Chapter 19

Puppeteer

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

I was listening to ‘Nightmare’ by NateWantsToBattle (my favourite singer) while writing this chapter.

Trust me, you’ll want to do the same. And check out this post for additional feels.

@miraculousl4dybug @livinthebilife tagged as requested :)

Check out my Ko-fi for writing commissions!

Chapter 18 | Chapter 20

Bloody Hawkmoth. That douchebag always has to ruin Marinette’s day, doesn’t he? Just when Marinette was catching the train to see a movie with her friends, too.

“What’s going on?” Nino cries as blue sparkles shoot up his legs, turning him into Bubbler.

“Nino!” Marinette, Adrien, and Alya shout. Bubbler turns to Marinette with a childish scowl on his blue face.

“Marinette!” he snaps. “Give me those Ladybug and Reine Nuit dolls!”

“B-Bubbler?” is all Marinette can say. What’s going on? Had Nino been re-akumatised? But he hadn’t been upset! And the sparkles had been blue, not purple!

“No! I’m Puppeteer!” Bubbler stamps his foot. “And I want those dolls now!”

“What – but – I don’t have the dolls!” Marinette says. Why does Puppeteer want the superhero and supervillain dolls she’s been sewing? “They’re at home! Why do you want them?”

“Because you said I could have them!” Bubbler says with another foot stamp. “Then Mummy said no! So, give ‘em to me now, or you’ll be super-duper sorry!”

Everything clicks into place. “Manon!” Marinette gasps. Alya and Adrien frown at her. “I was babysitting Manon today, and we were playing with some dolls I’ve made, and she wanted to borrow the Ladybug and Reine Nuit dolls but Nadja said no! But I let her take the Bubbler one!” She gasps again. “Nino! I’m so sorry!”

“I want Ladybug and Reine Nuit’s Miraculouses, so I can win forever and ever!” Bubbler howls before conjuring a bubble and flying off with a mad little laugh. Marinette groans and ducks away to transform. Why is this her life?

The first indication Alya gets that this hadn’t been a normal akuma fight is when Nino is oddly quiet when they meet back up at the train station for their movie after Puppeteer’s defeat. She’d originally chalked it to him trying to process what had just happened, but that was before she realised that she hadn’t been any quieter or more subdued after Ladybug had defeated Puppeteer and freed her from the akuma’s control after Puppeteer had snagged the Reine Nuit doll. No, it must be something else.

“Sorry, dudes, but I’m not in the mood for a movie,” Nino says suddenly. Alya jumps out of her deep thoughts. “I think I’m gonna just head home.”

“Are you sure?” Adrien says. “Did that akuma knock you around a bit?”

Nino forces a smile. “Yeah. I just kinda wanna go home and sleep it off. Catch you later?”

“You call us if you need anything, yeah?” Alya says. Nino forces a grin and a thumbs-up, then snaps his headphones on and heads for the stairs out of the station. Alya frowns after him.

“Maybe we should just reschedule,” Marinette says. “It wouldn’t feel right seeing the movie without Nino.”

“True,” Alya says. “I got some homework I can keep myself busy with. Maybe he’ll feel better tomorrow and we can go then.”

“If my father’s kind enough to let me out tomorrow as well,” Adrien mutters. “I’ll call Nino tonight and check on him.”

With that settled, they head their separate ways. Once she’s alone, Alya transforms into Reine Nuit and bounds in the direction of Nino’s house, hoping to catch him either there or on the way there. She’s in luck; a few streets away from the station, she spots him shuffling along the sidewalk, his shoulders slumped.

“Nino?” she says when she lands behind him, lightly touching his shoulder in case he doesn’t hear her. Nino jumps and whirls around, fists raised, but he lowers them when he sees who it is.

“Reine Nuit!” he says. “Don’t do that, dude!”

“Sorry,” Reine Nuit says sheepishly.

“What are you even doing here?”

Reine Nuit sighs. “I ran into your friend Alya. She told me that you’ve been a bit off since Puppeteer and that she’s worried about you.”

“Thanks, but I’m totally fine.” There’s that fake smile again. Reine Nuit just raises an eyebrow.

“Come on,” she says and holds out her hand. “Let me take you home at least.”

There’s still suspicion in Nino’s eyes, but he accepts her offer and lets her scoop him up and leap through the streets of Paris until they arrive at his house. But they’ve got company; waiting on the doorstep are Adrien and Marinette.

“Dudes, I told you –” Nino protests.

“Yeah, right,” Marinette says with her hands on her hips. “Like we’re gonna let you stew, Nino Lahiffe.”

“Hey, cookie, Ladybugreste,” Reine Nuit grins. “Alya told me that Nino could use some help.”

“Well, I know you’re not gonna leave me alone till I talk to you, so you may as well get it over with,” Nino sighs, standing aside to let them in and then closing the door behind them. Reine Nuit gives him a smile and sits down on the black leather couch with Marinette and Adrien, wincing when she steps on a Lego block in the process and pain shoots up her leg. Thank god for protective hero suits, or she’d be a sobbing mess right about now. Maybe they should just start yeeting Legos at akumas from now on.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pressured to talk to me,” Reine Nuit says. “But after Alya told me that she was worried about you, I realised that we never really follow up on the people who got akumatised. And she told me that this isn’t what you were like after the first time you were Bubbler.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I don’t remember it.” Nino sits on a cracked brown armchair and sags. “I mean, I get flashes when I’m asleep, but they’re dreams, y’know? No different to having a nightmare. Did I really try and suffocate you and Ladybug in a bubble?”

Reine Nuit shrugs. “Yeah, but it’s hardly the worst thing that’s happened to us. What’s different this time…if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I wasn’t akumatised, was I?” Nino says with a twisted smile. “I didn’t have some butterfly giving me powers and shit. I was being controlled by an akuma. I was a puppet. And normal people don’t forget the crap that happens to them when akumas hit them, do they? Not if those akumas aren’t brainwashing ones, which she wasn’t.”

Reine Nuit gasps. “Shit.”

“I remember everything, Reine. I remember trashing Marinette’s room to get the dolls. I remember trapping Ladybug in a bubble. I remember giving all the dolls to Puppeteer – so I’m the one responsible for everyone else’s pain! Nathaniel, Roger, you…you got controlled ‘cause of me. Whatever I’m feeling right now, you’re feeling it now too ‘cause of me.”

“That’s not true, Nino,” Reine Nuit says firmly. She leans forward and takes one of his hands, then squeezes it. “You couldn’t help what you did.”

“But I still remember it,” Nino laughs darkly. “It wasn’t like when I was akumatised. I knew everything I was doing – I felt everything I was doing – and I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop…do you guys know what it’s like to be stuck in your own body like it’s a freaking prison? To have someone else pulling the strings? Ladybug doesn’t remember when Dark Cupid hit her, does she?”

“N-No, I don’t think she does,” Marinette says in an odd voice.

“But I remember this! This wasn’t mind control – this was someone else playing puppeteer with my body!”

By the end of his speech, tears are starting to spill down Nino’s cheeks. Before Reine Nuit can do anything, he jumps up with a yell and slams his head into the wall behind the chair, thumping it with his fists. Reine Nuit bounds over to stop him from hurting himself and when she pulls him into a loose hug from behind, he turns around and throws his arms around her, squeezing so tightly that she can barely breathe, the bottom of his glasses digging into her scalp from where they’re pushed up and his wet cheeks dampening her hair when he buries his face in the top of her head. But she doesn’t complain. Nino needs this, and it’s better than him hurting himself in his distress.

“You know, I can’t even hate Puppeteer,” Nino says thickly when Reine Nuit’s guided him to sit down with her on the couch. Marinette and Adrien immediately huddle around him, adding their hugs to the comfort pile. “She’s just a kid. And hating her for being akumatised would be freaking hypocritical.”

“It’s Hawkmoth’s fault, Nino,” Adrien says. “He’s the only one to blame for this. Not you, not Puppeteer, not any of the other akumas.”

“He’s the one who’s made it unsafe to feel negative emotions without him taking advantage of you,” Marinette agrees.

“I promise you, Nino: Ladybug and I are gonna find Hawkmoth and we’re gonna kick him up the butt for you,” Reine Nuit says, stroking her crying friend’s hair.

“Agreed!” Marinette says.

“Just save me a piece and I’m totally down with that,” Nino jokes weakly, pulling away and wiping his eyes.

“Did talking about it help a little at least?” Reine Nuit says. Nino shrugs.

“A bit. But…ya know…can’t really put this kinda thing into words…”

“How would you usually deal with this?”

“My music. I’d go and mix a track or something.” Nino sighs. “But I don’t feel like it. Feels like all the juice got sucked outta me.”

Marinette lets out a small gasp. “I think I know someone who can help,” she says and pulls a Reine Nuit by holding out her hand. “If you trust me, that is? And if Reine Nuit’s happy to give us a lift?”

“Sure thing,” Reine Nuit says. Nino bites his lip, then shrugs and takes Marinette’s hand.

“Why the hell not? You guys helped me just now. Just lemme lock up.”

“I’ll head home from here,” Adrien says. “We just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Nino smiles weakly at him, but at least it’s a smile. Once they’re outside and he’s locked the front door, Reine Nuit hoists Marinette onto her back, scoops Nino up, waves goodbye to Adrien, and takes off leaping through the city, with Marinette giving directions. Reine Nuit grins when Nino laughs and tips his head back, and when they reach a houseboat on the Seine, he’s reluctant to let go.

“Reine Nuit?” Juleka jumps up from where she’s tuning her guitar. Rose gasps and bounces on the spot, and Ivan grins at her from the drums. Reine Nuit grins back at her classmates, not that they know that she’s in their class or anything.

“Marinette! Nino! Hi!” Rose waves. “What are you doing here with Reine Nuit?”

“Actually, I was wondering if we could speak to Luka?” Marinette says. “I think he’s perfect for this problem.”

“Uh – yeah, of course!” Juleka rushes to the houseboat’s entrance and calls, “Luka! Marinette and Reine Nuit are here to see you!”

“Nice try, little sis,” a voice replies. “Maybe don’t mention superheroes if you want me to believe you.”

“It’s true!” Rose squeals. “She’s here! Come on, Luka!”

“And bring your guitar, please?” Marinette adds loudly. There’s silence for a few seconds, followed by the sound of thumping and footsteps as Luka hurries up the stairs. His eyes widen comically at the sight of Reine Nuit, Marinette, and Nino.

“Reine Nuit?” he says. “What are you doing here with Marinette? Why do you need me?”

“Nino here has a problem and I think you can help him with it,” Reine Nuit says. “According to Marinette here, you come highly recommended.”

Luka smiles. “Well, if you come with Marinette’s blessing, then how can I say no?” He nimbly crosses the plank connecting the boat to the shore and unslings his guitar.

“Nino, how about you explain the problem to Luka?” Marinette says and sits down on the grass, crossing her legs. Reine Nuit, Nino, and Luka follow suit.

“I – so –” Nino clears his throat, then shakes his head. “I don’t think I can. Sorry, dude. I think Reine Nuit’s the only one I could tell, ‘cause she was there and you guys were with her when I told her.”

“Do you think you can express it without words?” Marinette says to Luka. “You read my heart the first time you met me. I was thinking that since you can’t really put something like this into proper words, it might help Nino if someone can express it non-verbally. Nino’s into music as well, so he totally gets what music can do!”

Luka frowns at Nino. “Hmm.” He plucks a string. The note rolls off it and into the air, deep and dark. “I’m sensing torment.” He plays a few more chords that send shivers down Reine Nuit’s spine and cause something dark and icky to roll in her gut. “Darkness. Loss of control. It felt like this, didn’t it?”

Nino stares at Luka with wide, suspiciously shiny eyes as Luka plays a short, dark melody. Reine Nuit’s suddenly overcome with the feeling of trappedhelpneedhelpescape and it takes every ounce of willpower for her to not reach over and crush Nino in a hug and never let him go.

“H-How did you do that?” Nino croaks, quickly wiping his eyes beneath his glasses. Luka smiles gently at him.

“Music’s often simpler than words,” Luka says, strumming again. “You would know that, as a fellow musician. Sometimes, when we’ve been through something intense, words just don’t do that experience justice.”

They fall silent, listening to the song that Luka plays. It’s low and dark, frantic, something that makes Reine Nuit’s heart begin to race as she closes her eyes to absorb it, before then growing higher and more hopeful, a light at the end of the tunnel, reassurance of escape. When she opens her eyes, she sees that Nino’s face is once again shiny and damp, but all the tension has melted out of his body. Once Luka finishes playing, there’s silence.

“Whoa,” Nino murmurs after a few minutes when his eyes flutter open. “That was…whoa, dude.”

Luka smiles. “Did that help you a little bit? Removing that pressure to verbalise your feelings?”

“You know, it totally did,” Nino says. “I can’t thank you enough, dude. I mean, I’m not over it or anything –”

“But it’s helped to alleviate your distress for now,” Luka says. “I’m glad.” He smiles at Marinette and adds, “I’ll have to thank you for recommending me to a superhero, Marinette.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Marinette says. “I mean – no drama for me! It’s definitely something for Nino!”

“Maybe you should join Kitty Section, Nino,” Luka says. “It might be healthy to be in such a musical environment with other people.”

“I dunno,” Nino says. “I don’t exactly play instruments, y’know? I’m more of the DJ kind.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t hang around,” Reine Nuit says. She smirks and adds, “You can be their very first groupie.”

“Hey!” Nino shoves her, while Marinette giggles at that, but he’s grinning widely. “We should go before my parents get home and realise I’m not there when I told them we cancelled the movie. Thanks, Luka, dude.”

Luka smiles and nods. “My pleasure. And it’s great to meet you, Reine Nuit.”

“You too, Luka. Any friend of Marinette’s is cool with me.” Reine Nuit stands up with Marinette and pulls Nino to his feet, then grasps him and Marinette securely. “Good luck with your band!” Then she’s off through Paris with her friends, taking Nino back home first so that he can recover from his ordeal and then Marinette. The minute she lands at his door and lets him go, she and Marinette are crushed in a suffocating hug.

“Thanks, Marinette, Reine Nuit,” Nino whispers into her hair. Reine Nuit smiles and hugs him back just as tightly, as does Marinette.

“I’m just glad you’re doing a little better, Nino,” Reine Nuit says.

#miraculous ladybug #aotq fic #aotq: reine nuit au #chat!alya #marinette dupain-cheng #alya cesaire #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #luka couffaine #puppeteer #oops look at that trauma #poor nino #wonder why more people aren't traumatised from akumas #*stares at show*

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jmespottuh · 4 years

Text

❛ if there’s one thing the gods love, it’s tragedy. with wings that burn and boys who fall. ❜

* ╰ brandon arreaga ; 17 ; he/him —— wow, james potter sure has changed. i guess he is feeling isolated from the other gryffindor members. guess you can’t really blame them. i still remember them being so charming & incisive now they just seem dependent & inexorable. guess being a pureblood isn’t helping matters much either. i’m hopeful though. they’ll be just fine.

links: pinterest, stats character parallels: bellamy blake ( the 100 ), shane madej ( buzzfeed unsolved ), jake peralta ( brooklyn nine-nine ), stefan salvatore ( the vampire diaries ), scott mccall ( teen wolf ), steve harrington ( stranger things )

james henry potter ( named for two his two grandfathers, maternal and paternal respectively ) was born on april 4th, 1960 to two of the most loving parents a child could have.

fleamont and euphemia had been trying for a child for years. they’d been together for basically all of time, having been that typical good-looking, well liked couple in hogwarts that everyone always just assumes will get married ( spoiler alert: they did ), however had had to postpone kids due to fleamont’s brief stint as a professional quidditch player for eight years following their graduation. after that, they would try every month for a child, and after many years of disappointment, eventually gave up. it was during this time that fleamont developed the sleekeazy hair potion which only added to their immense wealth.

finally at age forty-one, they were surprised with the arrival of james. obviously, they saw him as their miracle child, and as such he was pampered and completely spoiled from the moment he was born.

i cannot stress enough how much this spoiled upbringing shaped james into the person he is today. if you’re wondering why he was ever an arrogant prick, it’s because he was always used to getting absolutely everything he ever wanted. he grew up with money, he grew up with fame and with every bit of attention he could garner, and so it was really no wonder he was a bit of an asshole by the time he started at hogwarts.

obviously, james had a pretty cushy childhood, and as such, shit didn’t start getting real until he started at hogwarts.

it took all of three seconds for the hat to sort him into gryffindor, and i guess you could say he pretty much considered himself to be the gem of the house. he was the absolute epitome of a gryffindor, basically considered him the poster boy and all but expected everyone to love him.

really did not help his ego to know that everyone did.

in typical sterotype-gryffindor fashion, james hated slytherin. he had always been taught growing up that purists were basically the root of all evil, and his father had had no qualms in lumping all these people in with the house of the snakes. james and his friends took a particular disliking to severus snape almost immediately for the poncy way in which he seemed to believe he was superior to all for his intelligence and his house status, and this dislike only grew when lily evans was tossed into the mix, too.

for basically the first four or five years of hogwarts, james really was that stereotypical arrogant asshole that he’s often made out to be. he always got everything he asked for, he was incredibly popular and incredibly intelligent, he had the most amazing friends and his eyes on the most amazing girl. he was set!! shit was good!!

shit was not good, though. definitely was not.

despite having known of remus’ furry little problem since second year, things didn’t really start to settle in james how awful it was until third or fourth year. he hated seeing his friend in pain, he hated that he couldn’t help, and so he rallied the boys to put into action their worst plan yet!!!!

becoming animagi!!!!!!

it took fucking forever, obviously, but by the end of fourth year they did it!! we stan icons

except then in fifth year shit hit the fan again in just, like… so many ways

first, it was the whole severus ‘mudblood’ situation. honestly, james was absolutely furious. he’d always hated snape but this just made everything 1000 times worse. even if it had happened to anyone else, he would have been fuming. but for it to have happened to lily like… yikes.

this was also a horrible time for james though because lily rejected him for the thousandth time. like, look, what a yikes thing to think when she was just called a mudblood, but frankly he was sick of being rejected and he was sick of being the asshole who kept pressuring her so that was the breaking point — he gave up on her.

and tbh, he changed a lot from here on out. grew up!! became a better person bc he saw how horrible snap was and decided he was sick of horrible people!! saw, recognised and acknowledged that just bc he was hot and intelligent and rich he wasn’t always going to get everything he wanted ( see: miss evans ) and just generally learned that oh shit the world doesn’t revolve around him!!!

oh and then there was that whole thing with sirius and snape and remus the werewolf and ohhhh boyyyy…. that infuriated him.

he loves his bros so much and y’all know he would die for them, but to see his friend abuse remus’ pain and suffering for his own gain was heart wrenching. it just pushed him further to pull him in line, to realise that not everything was about games, or petty rivalry, or ‘ getting the girl ’ — life was heartache and mistakes and it was never going to go the way he wanted it to.

now look, this isn’t all to say that james is now a super strict, super intense, brooding weirdo. he’s still a bit of a child, and he’s still a bit of an arrogant prick, but ultimately what wins out is his morals — every time. he wants to lead the world to a better place, without war and without hate, he wants everyone to have the same opportunities he had as a kid and he wants nothing more than for blood purity to be eradicated.

get that shit outta my house!!! gross!!!!!!

now in his final year, james is always flipping between taking his role as head boy deadly serious and turning it into one big game of mischief. he’s still a marauder at heart, after all, and has definitely abused his power sometimes for the benefit of fun and games, but when it comes down to it, he can be very strict and lowkey paternal. the leader really just…. popped right outta him, it came to play and it came hard, and really you’d think he’s minister for magic with how serious he treats it sometimes.

i hate him.

the disappearance of one of his best friends, one peter pettigrew, landed james to flop pretty fucking hard on the side of seriousness. once you spend months without knowing where your best friend is, thinking he’s dead, you’re bound to start to lose a bit of that which once made you smile. it was this piled on top of what james had already been feeling which led the head boy to start finding ways he could join the revolution within the walls of hogwarts --- it’s been bloody hard but james is determined to make a difference, to make sure no one else he loves suffers in a war that they never asked to fight in the first place.

anyway here’s some fun facts that didn’t fit up top

james is a lot less intense with his hatred for slytherin’s. he has come to recognise that not everyone from that lifestyle is going to be the same, not everyone who grew up a certain way or was sorted into a certain house is going to think with a deadly mind, and while he’s still a bit wary, he’s a lot more relaxed about it, especially as head boy ( gotta at least pretend shit’s fair !!! )

he’s very dependent as in like… boi cannot go a week without his friends. he is used to having people to bounce off, that’s always the type of leader he has been, and as much as he would probably be amazing at anything on his own, he’s never really tried. too scared!! i hate him!!!!!

super unforgiving. like, if you have gotten on his bad side…. i’m sorry. it is going to be very difficult to return from there. his moral compass is pretty black and white, you’re either good or your bad, and if you’ve done something he considers bad well sucks to be you, i guess. sorry not sorry.

takes his quidditch very seriously tbh. so many people have told him he needs to be a pro like his dad, but he’s like haha fuck you i know what i wanna do ( hint hint: he wants to rule that goddamn auror office, make that shit far more efficient then he thinks it is now ). but srsly, he’s so intense abt the game and it really like… idk gets him in the zone, keeps him level-headed in amongst all this chaos.

he’s smart. i guess. straight a’s and shit idk. just very naturally intelligent, finds everything he does easy, like.. really is that asshole who is just good at everything he does.

#incantareintro #| ❛ the shackles of a martyr. ❜ ( character study. )#enjoy this rambly mess of a recycled intro that most of yall have read before fsjaklg

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elyvorg · 5 years

Note

I would love to hear if there's a particular fic bit that you've been dying to talk about! :D

Well, at first my answer to this was, “nothing off the top of my head?”, since I reblogged that post less because I’d been thinking of anything specific recently and more because it’d been on my dash three times. But I’d definitely felt that way about certain parts at some point in the past, so I went and reread the fic (this is the Shadow Kaito fic I’m talking about, of course, being the most recent lengthy fic of mine and me being still mostly in V3-mode) to refresh my memory. And now the response is, “not one particular part. Several particular parts”.

I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m emphatically not, and I know you’re not going to complain about this either. =P

“But still… they were always gonna find out sooner or later, y’know? Hell, knowing Shuichi, he probably already figured it out a while back, right?”

Kaito’s gaze darted to Shuichi, his eyes flashing with alarm and… something else, something that made Shuichi reach for the brim of a hat that wasn’t there.

In the early conception of this moment, my mental simulation of Shuichi simply kind of flinched when Kaito looked at him here. As I tried to figure out why, I remembered that oh yeah, Shuichi has some issues with eye contact, particularly of an intense nature - and then it occurred to me that the way Kaito was looking at him here was actually directly connected to those issues. It’s not “hatred” - Kaito would never hate Shuichi - but it’s that same kind of hurt, accusatory “how dare you uncover my secrets, they weren’t yours to know” from the part of Kaito that’s terrified he knows everything, and it feels all too uncomfortably like the culprit from that one case. Since that was a very fun notion, I wanted to get it across, but only very subtly because Shuichi would never consciously acknowledge that Kaito had had that effect on him. So I was really pleased when I came up with the reference to his hat and his instinctive reflex to hide his eyes behind it when something like this happens.

“It’s so obvious who I am. Shuichi can see the truth, but all I can do is run away from it like a coward.”

Originally when I wrote this line that leads to Kaito fully denying his Shadow, I wanted to get across the idea that, since everyone can already see that the Shadow is obviously him, Kaito is only making himself look even weaker by not being able to face it (which just pushes him even further into desperate irrational denial instead of cutting his losses and accepting it). At first I couldn’t word that right and the Shadow was basically directly saying as such, until I managed to streamline it here into a line which implies it better.

But here’s the fun thing - I wrote this part before properly getting through the trial 4 section of my Kaito ramble and figuring out exactly what’s going on in Kaito’s head during that trial and what the root of the problem is. So when I did figure that out, it was pretty great to look back at this bit and realise that I’d already written Kaito doing pretty much the same thing without actually having known at the time that something like this essentially happens in canon, too. “Shuichi can see the truth, but all I can do is run away from it like a coward” is a perfect description of what Kaito is doing in trial 4, but I didn’t know that when I first wrote that line!

A bunch of other bits in this fic were deliberately drawing off things I talk about in the Kaito ramble - “Heroes aren’t supposed to be this way!” comes to mind - but I think this was the only bit where the parallel happened backwards by complete chance.

Shuichi doesn’t see the Shadow’s true form until quite late in the game and Maki sees it pretty immediately and more or less gets it straight away, but Kaito? Kaito also notices the Shadow’s true form quite early on - and then his mind just does a big NOPE on acknowledging it or thinking about it, because he’s totally got better things to be doing, like rescuing Shuichi, right. (But what he gets from it is not, like Shuichi and Maki do, that he’s hurting himself by taking on their burdens without worrying about his own problems - he just sees it as meaning he’s too weak to support them.)

There was in fact a far better way Kaito could have “saved” Shuichi - by believing in his ability to save himself and simply encouraging him to do that. Shuichi was too nervous to climb down on his own until he felt like he absolutely needed to, but Kaito could have talked him through it, giving him the confidence to do so and reassuring him that he’d be there to catch him if he messed up. Exactly like Kaito always should be doing for his sidekick! But not here, because this is chapter 4, and because everything Kaito’s just heard has made him desperate to prove it all wrong and show that he’s “strong” enough to very directly save Shuichi and be the hero.

“I always say that,” the Shadow said. “I tell everyone, ‘I’ll do something about this’, but I never have a clue what to actually do.”

“Shut up!” yelled Kaito. He flailed one of his arms at the lights as if trying to swat them away, to no avail. “Get outta my face!”

“I’m hurt. I’m scared.” The stars’ brightness intensified, and Shuichi hated how powerless he was to stop what was coming. “Heroes aren’t supposed to be this way!”

“Sh-Shut up!” Kaito tried to turn his head away from the stars, but they were all around him. He screwed his eyes shut instead. “Y-You don’t know a damn thing about me!”

In earlier drafts, Kaito’s protests and denial at his Shadow before it attacks him both times were pretty nondescript and interchangeable, but in editing I tried to tighten that up a bit. Now the idea is that each time Kaito’s reaction essentially reflects what the Shadow is saying about him and proves it right even as he’s denying it.

Despite all the pain relating to his own issues he goes through in this, the absolute worst and most terrifying moment of it for Kaito was when he thought his Shadow was about to kill Shuichi while he was powerless to stop it.

(The Shadow threatening to do that and Shuichi figuring out that it was a just bluff to hurt Kaito was actually one of the earliest ideas I had for how part of the “fight” might go, before I’d even remotely pinned down the Shadow’s berserk form. As a placeholder, I was picturing some vague giant shadowy creature picking Shuichi up in its hands and threatening to crush him or something.)

While Kaito was immensely relieved that Shuichi wasn’t going to die, he otherwise hated it when Shuichi figured out his Shadow’s intentions. That was Shuichi saving himself by using his intellect and realising that Kaito was the vulnerable one who needed protecting (and also that this Shadow definitely was him), none of which are things Kaito wanted to be true. The stubborn desperation to prove that all wrong was what gave him the strength to stand up again, even though he couldn’t a moment ago when Shuichi’s life was apparently in danger (because all that moment made him feel was utter terror at his helplessness).

It’s also not a coincidence that the moment at which Kaito clams up and stops saying anything for a while is just after Shuichi starts very directly protecting him. At that point, it seems indisputable to him that Shuichi knows who the real hero is and who’s really in need of protecting, such that there’s nothing Kaito can say to try to deny it any more, while he also still can’t bring himself to admit the truth. At first when I wrote this bit I wasn’t completely sure if my simulation of Kaito retreating into himself and being unresponsive for a long time was truly in character for him - it doesn’t seem very Kaito-like on the surface - but then it occurred to me that actually this is basically also what Kaito does in the first half of chapter 5 in response to a not-entirely-dissimilar set of circumstances, so yes, it definitely is in character.

“What you just said is that you don’t trust us,” Maki snapped. “You think we’d turn our backs on you if we knew about this.” Her mace crashed into the Shadow, harder than before. “How stupid can you be?” Fuelled by her frustration, she grew relentless, striking him over and over again. “How could you possibly think – after you accepted me for who I am – that I would ever not do the same for you?”

Part of the reason Maki gets so furious and relentless here is that as she’s saying all this, she’s realising that, oh, wait, her own offhand comments about Kaito being an idiot or a coward prooooobably did not help any with him trusting her not to turn her back on him, and she’s starting to feel rather guilty about that.

Maki first hits Shadow Kaito in the torso, which is the least weak part of him since he’s a statue, but later when Kaito’s accepted him and the berserk form just needs to be destroyed, Maki simply shatters his limbs to end it immediately. She could have done that the whole time - but what she was trying to do in the beginning wasn’t to force the Shadow to drop the pedestal, but rather to persuade him to choose to drop it of his own volition by making carrying it even more difficult. It occurred to me that the amount of time between Maki leaving and returning was probably a little too long for her to have spent just running all the way to her lab and back at full pelt. So then I decided that she paused for a while in her lab as she picked up the mace and pictured herself destroying something that looked like Kaito with it, which made her shudder and reconsider exactly what the Shadow was and whether attacking it would really help. She came to the conclusion that it’s essentially Kaito’s “enemy” and therefore she needed to help him fight it rather than just easily winning the fight herself.

Despite everything, Kaito was smiling. Not a huge, dazzling grin for the sake of others, but a quiet smile that was just for himself.

I wrote this line perfectly innocently, and then it occurred to me that there is in fact one time in canon in which Kaito smiles like this, and it’s when he is in SPACE. Then I had a lot of emotions.

“I’m alright now.”

This is just after Shuichi and Maki have encouraged Kaito to accept his Shadow; this is also exactly what Kaito says in the correct route of his Harmonious Heart when Shuichi convinces him to be okay about showing his weakness. Probably nobody was ever going to notice that, but I wanted to put it there anyway.

The lunar lander had landed, standing quite stably on the three legs that it had always had, as if those two statues on top had never really needed Shadow Kaito’s support at all.

That’s not true, Shuichi thought fervently as the implications of this sank in. How could even a part of Kaito have ever thought that?

There have been many points during my V3 commentary at which I have wanted to say “and that’s why the pedestal has legs.” But I couldn’t, because readers of the commentary may not have read this fic and would be very confused.

“I shouldn’t have blamed everything on you, when you’re no different from anybody else.”

At some point after I wrote this line, it brought to mind a line from the game Celeste, during Shadow Madeline’s explosion of rage, where she says, “You think you can blame everything on me!?” I thought that was a neat unintentional similarity. Don’t blame everything on your Shadow. It will just make them sad. They are weaker than you and need to be your sidekick.

(Reminder: if you are here for my Shadow-related content, please play Celeste.)

Kaito’s gaze rose to meet his. “Time for what?” There was a quiet urgency in his voice. “What are you going to do, Shuichi?”

The narration here was me doing my best to subtly get across the sense that Kaito’s really just desperately thinking, “Please tell me you can save me, Shuichi.” Shuichi really is his hero.

Kaito’s grip tightened just a little on Shuichi’s shoulder as he looked between them both imploringly. It might have been because Shuichi knew the truth now, or just because Kaito wasn’t trying so hard to hide it anymore, but Shuichi could sense something almost anxious behind Kaito’s usual confident gaze.

“I believe in you guys,” Kaito said. “Isn’t that enough?”

And similarly, this was me trying to get across that Kaito is really, really desperate for this to be enough. Shuichi and Maki are going to be figuring out a plan to escape and save his life with their awesome talents of deductions and fighting, but Kaito’s mind isn’t wired to deduce things like Shuichi can or come up with plans, and he’s not strong enough right now to fight. He so badly wants to be able to help somehow with them forming this plan and not be useless, to prove that he really can still support them after all despite everything, but all he can do is be his usual optimistic self and believe in them, and if that isn’t enough to help then he’s just got nothing else to offer and he can’t bear that thought.

#danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 spoilers #writing #kaito momota #shuichi saihara #maki harukawa #training trio #shadow kaito #v3 aus #kaito's hero issues #shadows #ramble #antialiasis #thanks for giving me an excuse to do this!#i really could talk about this fic forever #still totally open to ramble about any other parts anyone is interested in

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

If you are taking Phasmo requests: There was a round in the latest stream where Impulse spent way too much time near the ghost and had to borrow extra sanity pills from the others just to keep himself going. The interesting part is: his internet cut out partway through the round, and if I remember correctly it didn't come back until the mission was done and they were all safe again.it kinda made me think...what if it all just finally got to be too much and his character passed out? Do with that what you will, I'm just really interested to see how you write the sanity mechanic and the effects of that :)

i love phasmo :D

...

Impulse leaves the farmhouse and heads back into the truck, disappointed with himself. He’s spent so much time in the ghost room but not had a single reading on the spirit box. It must be something he’s doing wrong.

The board in the truck says his sanity is low. He’s already taken his sanity pills but he can’t just give up now. He knows he must be SO close to getting a reading.

“Hey Tango, can I have your sanity pills?” Impulse asks over the radio.

“Um… sure. If you want.”

Impulse takes Tango’s pills, deciding not to mention the fact that he also took Skizz’s pills less than ten minutes ago.

He heads back into the building and goes straight to the ghost room. Immediately, he can feel a squirming in his stomach and a heavy kind of dizziness making the room spin slightly around him.

Sanity pills aren’t a substitute for letting sanity regain naturally, so Impulse is still suffering from the effects of the previous times he’s been in this room. Deep down, he knows it’s not good for his health to spend so much time here. But he just has to get these clues.

“Are you here?” he asks his spirit box.

Only static as a response.

He spends another ten minutes in the room, ignoring the horrifying breathing noises coming from the corner. For some reason, the ghost is not feeling chatty anymore and refuses to talk to him through the spirit box.

Finally, Impulse gets sick of it. “Linda Johnson, show yourself,” he snaps.

Immediately, the spirit box lights up: “DEATH.”

Impulse yelps and dashes out of the room, almost dropping his spirit box as he does. He pauses outside the door, his flashlight starting to blink.

“It’s hunting, Impulse, get outta there,” comes Joker’s voice over the radio.

After a moment, Impulse turns and runs. He can hear the footsteps, the breathing, the heartbeat, and he knows the ghost is right behind him. The pain and nausea are rising to almost overwhelming levels; it’s all he can do to force himself onward.

Finally, he bursts out of the front door and the noises go away. He doubles over, breathing heavily through exhaustion and nausea, trying to fill his lungs with as much fresh air as possible.

“Impulse, are you dead?” Joker asks through the walkie talkie.

“No,” Impulse responds.

He trudges back to the van, passing Tango and Skizz on his way. Joker is still inside the van, keeping an eye on the monitor for ghost orbs.

The last bottle of sanity pills catches his eye. “So, um… any ghost orbs yet?” Impulse asks casually.

“Not yet.” Joker glances at him and his eyes widen. “Whoa. Impulse, you look terrible.”

“Thanks.”

“No, really. Your eyes are BLOODSHOT, dude. You’re pale, you’re sweaty. Do you have a fever or something?”

Impulse blinks. He doesn’t feel sweaty; in fact, apart from the dizziness, he feels okay. And the nausea. And the churning in his stomach. And the splitting headache.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Can I take your pills?”

Joker stares at him, realisation dawning on him. “How much have you taken already?”

“Hey, I only took mine,” replies Impulse defensively. “And Tango’s. And I don’t think Skizz realised I took his too.”

“Oh my god!” Joker yelps. “Dude, your sanity’s at ZERO right now and that’s with THREE sets of pills?! You gotta tap out, man. You can’t go back in there.”

“I’m fine,” Impulse repeats firmly.

He reaches for the last bottle of sanity pills but his vision suddenly swims and he has to blink heavily a few times, his brain growing fuzzier and fuzzier by the second.

Joker jumps off his chair and captures Impulse’s hand before he can take the pills. “Impulse, STOP,” he orders. “This isn’t healthy.”

“I gotta get back in there,” Impulse argues weakly. “I gotta help Tangy and Skizz.”

“Since when do you call him “Tangy”?!” Joker tries to guide Impulse towards the chair. “Impulse, seriously, you’re too out of it. You gotta sit down and take it easy or something.”

Impulse pulls his wrist out of Joker’s grasp and stumbles back towards the shelf. But the nausea and dizziness are just too overwhelming, and just as he lifts his arm to reach for the pills again, his eyes roll back and he collapses to the ground.

“Impulse!” cries Joker in alarm. “Oh my god!”

He drops to his knees beside Impulse and shakes his shoulders, trying to wake his friend up. “Impulse! C’mon, man! W-Wake up!”

But when Impulse doesn’t stir, Joker hurriedly reaches for his walkie talkie, fumbling and almost dropping it in the process. “G-Guys, get back to the van. NOW.”

“Oh, what now?” comes Skizz’s annoyed voice over the radio. “We can’t do our job if you keep-!”

“Joker, what is it?” Tango’s voice interrupts, clearly sensing the urgency in Joker’s voice. “Is everything okay?”

“N-No!” Joker’s voice cracks. “Impulse passed out and now he won’t wake up!”

“What?!” Skizz gasps. “Okay, I’m on my way back.”

Joker waits anxiously until he sees Tango rushing towards him, with Skizz right behind him. Tango kneels down beside Impulse and quickly checks his pulse.

“His sanity’s at zero,” Joker reports shakily. “But I don’t think he should take any more pills. He already took three sets.”

“WHAT?!” screeches Skizz.

Tango exhales slowly, shaking his head. “Oh my god, no wonder he’s passed out. He shouldn’t even have had more than one set, let alone three.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” Skizz asks worriedly, taking Impulse’s hand. “He looks so pale.”

Tango grasps his friend’s shoulder reassuringly. “As soon as we get back to the lobby, his sanity will be restored and he should be fine. But now the question is: do we cut our losses and take the l on this one or do you wanna keep going?”

“There’s no way I’ll be able to concentrate now,” replies Skizz, his own face almost as pale as Impulse’s. “I just want Impulse to be okay.”

Tango nods. “Joker?”

Joker’s eyes glisten as he responds, “Man, I-I’m still traumatised from the image of him just dropping to the floor like a- like a sack of rocks. I’m fine with taking the loss.”

“Good, yeah, me too.”

Tango activates the van keypad, ending the round. The group wait as they’re transported back to the lobby.

Impulse awakens as he feels his sanity get restored, but as soon as his feet land on the floor of the lobby, his knees buckle and he pitches forward.

Thankfully, Tango reacts quickly and catches him, half-carrying him towards the sofa in the corner. He sits his friend down and stands back, arms folded, as Joker and Skizz come to stand next to him.

Impulse looks up to find all three of his friends watching him.

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Tango demands.

“I don’t know,” says Impulse quietly. “I’m sorry. But I feel better now. And it won't happen again.”

He tries to get up off the sofa but Tango takes hold of his shoulders and pushes him back down. “Not good enough. Impulse, I’ve never heard Joker sound so scared than when he came on the radio to tell us you’d passed out. At the very least, you owe him an explanation.”

Impulse’s eyes flicker to Joker, who glances away, unable to meet his gaze.

“You’re right,” he murmurs. “Joker, I’m sorry. I don’t have an explanation. I just pushed it too far and I should’ve listened to you guys. I’m really sorry.”

Tango and Skizz both glance at Joker, who hesitates for a moment before approaching Impulse and awkwardly patting his shoulder. “It… It’s okay. Do you feel okay now?”

“My head hurts and I feel exhausted, like I’ve been awake for ages.” Impulse inhales deeply. “I think I just need to rest.”

“Understandable, since you took, like, three times the recommended dose of sanity pills,” Tango says. “We’ll call it here for today, then. Just… don’t do that again, please.”

“I won’t. Those sanity pills taste even worse the more you take.”

“That’s not what I meant. Though you should definitely not do THAT again either.” Tango clears his throat. “Don’t scare us like that again.”

“Yeah, dude, I thought you’d just dropped dead in front of me,” Joker adds. “Like, dropped dead of insanity or an overdose or something. I’m not too stubborn to admit that I nearly had a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” says Impulse quietly. “I promise I won’t do it again.”

“Good.” After a moment, Tango smiles and also pats Impulse’s shoulder. “Let’s all go home and get some rest. We need it.”

Impulse nods. He regrets scaring his friends of course but more than that, he regrets losing sight of what’s important: the fact that it’s just a game and it’s supposed to be fun. He’s not supposed to drive himself to win at the detriment of his own health. He’ll have to make sure he remembers that in future.

“Good idea.”

#phasmophobia #skizzleman #impulsesv #tangotek #misterjoker #vaunna’s requests

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tcswritings · 5 years

Text

Friends.

Declan and Mick, some drinks, a heavy subject and, finally, a reconciliation.

***

“Can I get ya anythin’ else, Sir?”

The young and cheerful waitress, armed with pen and paper, cocked her head a little and she put on a bright smile, ready to get him anything he wanted, but Declan once again shook his head.

“No, thank you!” he replied politely.

It was the second time she had asked him whether he wanted anything else than just a drink and Declan could read her bewildered expression quite well: How am I supposed to be a good server when service is denied? The girl was really young, eighteen at most, and she had probably just started training or maybe she was even still at school, trying to earn some extra money after class.

School... how easy life had been when they had all still been students. Declan’s mind drifted off again but only for a few moments until the girly voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I can go back and get ya our menu with the specials? Maybe ya just need a lil’ inspiration, eh? Just take a look, ya might find somethin' that strikes your-”

“No!” Feeling that he might have interrupted her a little harshly, Declan smiled at the girl, glancing at the little nameplate over her chest. “No, thank you... Rosalie. I’m waitin’ for someone, I’ll order later if that’s okay with you.”

Rosalie cocked her head again and she eventually sighed and shrugged, putting her little stationery as well as her pen back into the little pocket of her apron. “Fine with me? Just do a little wave or somethin’, and I’ll be right back!”

“Thank you!”

Declan appreciated the young girl’s enthusiasm and kindness but he didn’t feel like talking to anyone just right now. He nervously looked around the little diner and while he really missed the familiarity of The Dirty Deed, he had figured that it would be for the better to do this on neutral ground, without any inquisitive eyes around them.

He checked his phone for the time and realised that Mick was a little late. That wasn’t unusual - he had always been a somewhat confused soul. They both were - Declan was well aware of his own chaos - but Mick had this special kind of absentmindedness that could both be endearing and irritating but when he thought back to all the situations caused by said absentmindedness now, Declan merely smiled to himself. He had never fully realised how much he had liked Mick’s little quirks until he had decided to be no longer a part of his life.

It has been six very long months at this point. Far too long, Declan thought, but he was hoping that the situation might change for the better today.

About five minutes later - just when he pondered the idea of waving Rosalie over anyway - the diner’s door opened, causing the little doorbell to happily chime, eagerly announcing the new guest and when Declan spotted the familiar figure walking in, he could feel the little lump in his throat growing bigger. He swallowed hard, feeling even more nervous than before and his mind suddenly worked hard to come up with the weirdest thoughts.

What if he’s in one of his weird moods? What if he pulls me right over the table and knocks me out?

Nah, don’t be ridiculous, he has already kind of done that, remember? It just ain’t that much fun the second time.

But what if he doesn’t listen anyway? What if he only comes here to enjoy the sight of me being in agony?

Oh come on, don’t be an arsehole again. He’s not a sociopath. Even if he still hates you, he cares about Ash. Give him more credit already!

Fine. I’ll just wait and see, I guess.

Wise decision.

Declan was so caught up in his thoughts that, when he looked back up, he had lost sight of Mick but his confusion didn’t last terribly long - his former friend just slumped into the seat across from the little table between them, shrugging off some of the cold from outside when he took off his jacket, tossing it on the empty chair next to both of them, on top of Declan’s.

Oh god, what do I even say now? I think I’m panicking. Quick, mind, come up with something to say! Something smart. Hurry! I can’t just say hi, that’s too-

“So.” Mick interrupted his thoughts, putting his forearms to the armrests of the chair, shooting him a challenging glance. He looked different than the last time Declan had seen him - less neat, the most notable change being his unusually long light hair - it had grown out to almost shoulder length.

Declan thought that he looked a bit like a deranged elf and he found the thought oddly amusing although the situation wasn’t funny at all. Looking closer, he couldn’t help but feel that Mick’s deranged-elf version looked a wee bit menacing but that was probably just his own perception, because in this moment he felt utterly terrible for everything he had ever done to him, that he had every right to look at him like he did, and it was the moment when he eventually understood that this hasn’t been about a woman between them in a long time.

This was about them - two grown up men and formerly best friends - having grown apart somewhere on their way, neither of them really knowing why and when it had happened and Declan realised that, whatever the outcome of today might be, things would never be like they used to be again, either way.

“Uhm.” Declan swallowed again, frantically searching for the last bit of his confidence but it had probably bolted once Mick had entered the diner... whatever.

“Ya look like shit, y’know.” Mick cut him off, raising an eyebrow.

Ouch. Well, at least it doesn’t look like he’s gonna kick my arse.

“Yup, I know. I thought I’d make my appearance match my mood.”

“Hm!” Mick pursed his lips now, giving him a little nod of approval. “Kinda worked.”

“Thank you!”

It was so odd - they had only exchanged a few words at this point, not even the nicest of all words, and Declan had already cheered up heaps. Just having Mick sit here with him felt like such a relief, even though he didn’t know whether they would ever find a way to become friends again.

When Mick didn’t say anything for a while, Declan could no longer hold it in.

“The hell is goin’ on up there, man?” he asked, tipping a finger to his own head, referring to the new look that Mick presented today - he was usually really fussy about his appearance and he always made sure to wear his hair in some neat ‘do but nothing was left of that today.

When Mick realised what Declan was talking about, his eyes went wide in disbelief. “Yer not seriously talkin’ about my hair now, are you?”

“Nah, I just think it’s-”

“What?”

“Woah, don’t gimme the death glare now, I was just saying-”

“Shut up.”

“But-”

“No!”

“Kurt Cobain would be proud!?”

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry!” Declan cried out. “I just wasn’t prepared for that sight, that’s all!”

Mick made a face and casually crossed his arms as he leaned back in his seat. “Look who’s talkin’, man. You look like y' just crawled outta the next dump.”

“Yeah, but I’m depressed!”

There was a pause. The banter was over, the ice was broken, Declan could feel it.

“Aye, I bet y’are.” Mick merely said after a few moments and Declan could literally watch him lowering his guard a little. There were a few more moments of silence before Mick went on. “So, it’s, really... y’know...?”

“Yeah. Acute lymphoblastic leukemia, or something like that.”

“Well, shit.”

Declan nodded. “It’s still in an early stage, as it seems. They’re running a few more tests these days, chances of recovery are good but still...”

“It’s a huge pile o’ shit.”

“Yeah. I mean, he still has to go through treatment hell, man. Chemotherapy, radiation... I don’t even wanna think about it.”

Mick merely looked at him, biting his lip. There was concern in his eyes, it was obvious, it was genuine and Declan took it as a silent encouragement to go on.

“I feel sick when I think about it. I mean, I know you’ve seen some hospitals from the inside but have you ever been to a pediatric cancer ward?”

“No.” Mick shook his head.

“That’s the most depressing shit I’ve ever seen. The only way I can picture my kid is happy and healthy. I don’t think I can handle that, man. I know I have to but I don’t know how. I feel so goddamn fuckin’ useless.”

A few more moments of silence until Mick cleared his throat. “I, uhm. I dunno what to say, to be honest.” He looked down to his folded hands on the table.

Declan smiled a faint smile, actually appreciating the fact that Mick was lost for words as he had quite a few people coming up to him within the past few days, people he had met in the hospital only minutes ago at the time, people who didn’t even know him and who felt the need to tell him to “think positive” or that “everything will turn out just fine” and while he knew that they didn’t mean any harm, quite the opposite even, they had still made him want to snap some of their bones, preferably one for each empty word they had uttered.

Today wasn’t about random people with useless advice, though. It was about winning back a lifetime friend. Declan took a deep breath.

“Look, man, I can’t undo what I did, okay? I want to. So bad. You have no idea. This is not me trying to pull at your heartstrings or something but... please stick around for a while, okay? ”

“Dipso-”

The use of his old nickname surprised Declan a little but he couldn’t be sure if it was really a good sign, so he went on.

“No, honestly - I’m begging you. You don’t even have to do this for me, y’know. Do it for him, okay? Because for some weird reason that kid loves you. Personally, I can’t think of any reason why but he does. Just... consider it for a bit. It’s all about him.” Declan could feel his voice trembling so he stopped right there.

The voices in his head had long stopped making silly noise, too, as they were now tense with fearful anticipation.

It was the moment. I hope he still knows that this is our way of saying that we miss him and want him back.

Mick shot Declan an uninterpretable glance before he let out a little sigh. “Y'know what? I’m starvin’. What about you?”

Okay, what the hell? What is wrong with this man? I thought we were having a moment here!

“Erm, wh- I- what?” Declan blinked.

“I can‘t stick around while I’m starvin’, man!”

“You’re enjoying this, aren‘t you?” Declan grumbled but he wasn’t mad at all.

“A bit?” Mick smiled. “Sorry.”

Declan smiled back briefly before he realised that he was hungry.

“Actually... now that you mentioned it, I could eat? My appetite hasn’t been grand lately but right now...?”

“Right. Food, then.” Mick looked around the diner. “Are actual people workin’ here or what?”

“Yeah, wait, I got this.” Declan said as he looked around the place, too, and when he found the person he was looking for, he raised his arm.

“Hey, Rosalie!”

***

(... to be continued.)

#declan #mick #just a little thing that came to my mind #looking forward to writing the 'main part' of this #I really love when these boys aren't silly idiots for once #will also edit and polish at some point #I hope I can continue it very very soon #and all the other blurbs as well #ONE DAY I'LL HAVE THEM ALL FINISHED!#the title is still to be changed #I need to think of a better one but it's 1 am and I wanna sleep lol

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mysteli · 5 years

Text

Endless Summer Imperfect - Chapter 21

A/N: I can’t with this chapter! I am soooo sorry in advance because it is soooo angsty. I’m really glad I could bring it back though because I know ya’ll have been asking about it. Let me know what you think and I hope you like it!

Warning: MAJOR ANGST (I AM SO SORRY)

Words: 9156

ES IMPERFECT TAG: @princessstellaris @mechaspirit@xo-endlessmayhem-xo @endlessly-searching-for-you @brightpinkpeppercorn@aragornesprincessgeekymamma @justboredtrash@diego-vii @indiacater @countrymusicandncis-blog @zigortega4life @nekkidmolerat @ravengalaxia@ladyseaheart1668 @endless-jake@theendofallsummers

Masterlist

Imperfect Masterlist

Endless Summer Aftermath - Ending 1 Imperfect Chapter 21 - Life After Love

Jake

The bullet. Frozen in Logan’s grasp, practically frozen in time. She saved Jake. Just like she suspected she would. But is the circumstance that Jake has always been afraid of. The situation where Logan forces herself to sacrifice her life for Jake. He hates when she even thinks something like that and he’s aware when she does. Rourke was about to kill him and he knew if Logan hadn’t stopped that damn bullet... he would probably be no more right now.

Goddamnit though. She saved him and in the most unusual way. She stopped a fucking bullet?! How the fuck is that even possible? Maybe more of the Endless is evolving in her every single day and she’s just now gaining the power but still. It’s fucking insane. This shouldn’t be possible in any fucking way. But she’s done it. Hell, of course she’s done it. This is Princess we’re talking about.

Logan is everything Jake will never be. She’s well rounded, capable and it seems like now she’s fucking magical too.

This must have something to do with the time abilities of the Endless and how Rourke managed to absorb the Endless’ power and use it to transport Logan into his future. Maybe sometime on the way, Rourke unknowingly corrupted Logan with that power and it’s been growing inside of her ever since. Jake wouldn’t put that past the world. Enough unbelievable things have happened and Logan having the ability to control time doesn’t seem at all impossible.

Logan is clearly stunned and shocked by what’s the done. Her ocean eyes are glued to the bullet in her hand and she never dares to tear her gaze away from the metal object. Stress builds within her body and shivers erupt up her spine. She’s clueless and she doesn’t know what to do now she has a bullet in her grip.

Does she shoot Rourke or does she spare him? What the fuck can she do with such a dangerous weapon?

Estela and Mike appear just as shocked as Jake is but they are still rather composed - keeping their weapons risen in case Rourke tries to cower or take another shot. But in the same way, Rourke looks stunned and surprised, an unrecognisable expression crossing his face. Jake catches the sight of the Brit swallowing hard, revealing some slight nerves.

Logan’s grasp is starting to her shaky, revealing her own levels of anxiety too. Jake clutches her hips lightly, trying his best to calm her down and letting his mouth loom over her mouth.

“Princess... how are you doing that?” Jake whispers softly in her ear, causing her to bite her lip at the effect his raspy voice has on her.

She doesn’t know how to respond at first, keeping her gaze on her bullet. “I... don’t know.” She barely whispers back, a heavy breath leaving her lips and Jake steadies as he senses her body starting to go weak.

Logan sucks in a sharp breath, not sure what to make of the situation. Despite Rourke’s momentary shock, he seems to have composed himself and his devious smirk has returned.

“Well, well, well. Looks like the Endless isn’t dead after all.” Rourke finally pipes up and at the sound of his voice, Mike and Estela aim their weapons more clearly, also pushing Jake to level his own gun up.

“What the hell are you talking about, Stark?” Jake questions in a cold tone, his voice harsh and forced.

“I can’t believe I never realised it. The Endless is living inside of Logan. That was her plan all along.” Rourke announces, an incredulous look overtaking and a proud smile is produced. “Wow... no matter how fatal the situation, the Endless always seems to find a way to double cross me.”

“So you’re saying... the Endless is... living inside of me?” Logan mutters under her breath, her other hand brushing over her platinum hair and Rourke finally lowers his gun, replacing it with another device. An unfamiliar device. Something Logan has never seen before.

“You don’t need to worry about it, Logan. You’ll have no time to embrace these new found powers The Endless has provided you with. Trust when I say, you’ll all be dead soon.” Rourke declares, gesturing to the time bomb that is counting down slowly but surely. The timer has already differed to twenty five minutes.

“Were gonna get outta here way before that damn bomb goes off, asshole.” Estela snaps, her hand over the trigger on her gun and she aims it directly as Rourke’s head. “But I’m not walking out of here without your head on a pike.”

“Now, now, Estela.” Rourke chuckles mockingly. “That’s no way to speak to your father.”

“You’re not my father.” Estela bites back, finally pressing the trigger on her gun and a bullet is unleashed. But Rourke is ready, raising the device in his hand and the bullet immediately zooms through the device and gets trapped in the iron wall. A button seems to have been pressed in the process and Rourke’s devilish smirk only widens.

“I’d like to thank you Estela. You just set off an alarm that means all my soldiers will be here any moment now to take you down before you can even leave this room.” Rourke applauds Estela and she narrows her eyes viciously. Unfazed, Rourke moves his vile gaze to Logan, noticing how the bullet is still in her grasp. “Ha. Some Endless you are.” He mocks, starting towards the exit and sliding a card over the lock and the door slides open instantly, giving Rourke a clear exit.

“You’re not getting away with this, you bastard!” Mike pipes up as Rourke leaves the area, barely catching his words. He takes one last glance at the group.

“It’s been a pleasure... Catalysts.” And the last thing seen of Rourke is the sly smirk, like that of a cartoon character as the doors masks his exterior and keeps him out of sight.

Estela immediately launches her fist at the nearest wall and notices that they are completely boxed in, unless they can access a key card, they are done for. They’re trapped unless the Arachnids show up.

“We’re gonna fucking die. This is it.” Estela runs her hands through her greased brunette hair and heavy breaths escape her slowly.

Mike moves over to shake her shoulders, snapping her out of her breakdown. “This isn’t it, Estela. We’re gonna fucking get through this. I plan on getting us home and safe. Rourke won’t win.”

Estela just scoffs, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “Don’t you get it, Mike? He’s already won.”

All of a sudden, heavy footsteps can be heard echoing through the room, pulsating through the walls and affecting the ears of the four bottled inside. All of them are immediately listening and awaiting impatiently for the arrival of the Arachnids soldiers, who seem to have aligned with Rourke once more. It’s not good but it has to work.

All the walls suddenly disappear and dozens of Arachnid soldiers are revealed on the other side, all four of the group trapped in the centre with no escape. They’re surrounded and they have no choice but to fight.

But Logan still carries that bullet in her grasp and she’s been completely paralysed for the last few minutes. While Mike and Estela prepare for battle, sharing deadly eye contact with many of the soldiers as if to say they’re ready, Jake remains at Logan’s side, knowing he has to snap her out of her trance in order to convince her that fighting is the only option.

Suddenly, the soldiers all charge forward and Estela, Mike and Jake are given no more time to prepare for this fight. They all start randomly shooting their guns and unleashing bullets at every single angle. Some soldiers fall limb immediately and Estela is probably getting the most accurate shots. She’s a complete machine when it comes to fighting. One of the best Jake has ever encountered in his entire existence and he’ll only admit that in his head. Mike is pretty damn good too, going down the smart path and targeting the heads of the soldiers.

After clearing out a few of the soldiers, Jake swerves around to check on his wife, who hasn’t moved a muscle since the battle started. How the hell is she not fighting yet? She’s usually the determined, strong and fearless one but... finding out all that about the Endless is definitely getting to her head.

Jake immediately latches onto Logan, realising he got a little distracted and now he needs to focus on his troubled and might he add, in pain wife. Only then does he realise just how paralysed she is.

He shakes her slightly but she won’t move and she’s just shivering painfully much. Jake looks to her hands, realising they are empty and the bullet is no longer in her grasp. Logan hangs her head and her gaze burns into something on the floor. Jake follows her gaze and is immediately horrified by what he finds on the floor.

A body. An Arachnid body… with a bullet through their head. Guess that makes it a dead Arachnid body.

Jake is completely aware he isn’t as shaken by this as Logan must be and somehow he can’t understand why she is as shaken as she is, if that makes any sense. She clearly unleashed that bullet into the Arachnid soldier but Jake can’t help but wonder how that is any different to killing other Arachnid soldiers with a gun, which Logan has done enough times.

No… this seems to be different. Because Logan has to blood on her hands this time instead of the weapon used. Jake wraps his arms around his wife and spins her around so she’s no longer facing the dead Arachnid soldier. She must have panicked and let go of the bullet as if the soldier was trying to attack her and that bullet zoomed right through their head.

Tears streaming down her face, Logan buries her face in Jake’s chest and her sobs melt into his already stained shirt. Jake tangles his fingers in her platinum hair and tries to soothe her as swiftly as possible because soldiers could try and attack them any moment now.

They don’t have much time and soon that becomes clear, as three soldiers begin coming after Jake and Logan. Catching sight o this, Jake pulls away from Logan and stares her dead in the eyes - an intensity like no other lurking in his gaze.

“Darlin’… I know this is all hard to process and I know you’re in shock but we gotta fight right now if we wanna survive.” Jake whispers heavily, knocking their foreheads together.

Logan sucks in a sharp breath, wiping away the tears and trying her best to focus her blurred vision. “What if there’s no point and we die anyway?”

“Don’t think like that right now. Just think positive and hope. Please… I can’t lose you again.”

Hearing that, something shifts in Logan and she proudly retrieves her gun, determination flooding her so suddenly. “I won’t let you, Aragorn.”

Jake smirks at that, briefly bringing their lips together. “Ready to kickass, Princess?”

“Always.”

Diego

Running. Running and running. Running for what seems like forever. Searching. Searching and searching. Searching for what seems like forever. Searching for the love of his life. Diego can’t stand it. Now without the confusion and bewilderment, his memories now built into his brain, it hurts so much more to be away from someone you know is supposed to be with you. Diego finds it heartbreaking, especially knowing he is so close to reuniting with his own soulmate.

He’s been fighting to escape the Arachnid soldiers for a while now, with Rebecca fighting them off. They are now so close to the prison area or in other words, where Vaaryn is being held. Diego needs to see him. It’s never been a question and the only answer is finding him again. Maybe it was better when Diego didn’t remember but even if that was still in tact, he would still be bullied and isolated and Vaaryn was probably the secret answer to all his problems and he didn’t even know it until now.

Diego is desperate and determined. He needs this. He wants this so bad. And now he’s so close. He’s inches away from his true destiny. At least that’s what he hopes.

Finally, Diego and Rebecca reach the entrance to the prison area, presumedly where Rourke keeps all his puppets locked away from the rest of the world. The guards have been on high alert since the Rourke’s orders went out. Turns out Jake and Estela have gone missing and Diego can only hope that Logan and Mike have managed to locate them and reunite with them.

Rebecca steadies her gun before peeking cautiously into the heavily guarded door to the prison area. No signs of anyone right now but it’s most likely that there will be a few guards still assigned to act as security for the prisoners and make sure they can’t escape.

Diego sucks in a sharp breath and prepares himself as Rebecca hands him a gun. He barely catches it with his hands shaking the way they are and his chestnut eyes widen at the sight of such a dangerous weapon. He doesn’t encounter these often. If at all.

“Why are you giving me one of these?” Diego dares to ask, immediately silenced by Rebecca’s incredulous stare.

“You’re really gonna need it.” Rebecca responds, shaking her head in disbelief that Diego would even ask that type of question at an extreme time of danger such as this.

“But... I thought I’d leave all the shooting to you. You think I know how to use a gun?”

“Just point and shoot.” Rebecca explains briefly and when she spots Diego’s state of bewilderment, she just exhales hesitantly. “Look we don’t have time for this. If you wanna save your blue lover, you’re gonna have to kill some people. Clear?”

Diego nods, slightly scared. “Crystal.”

“Now I need you to be quiet as possible because I know there are guards still in here.” Rebecca warns, a serious look in her eyes.

“So are we just gonna walk in there or is there a more thought out plan like... hostage roleplay?” Diego suggests and Rebecca simply shakes her head.

“Diego, this is the plan and the more we talk, the more your life at stake and trust me... Jake would kill me if I let you die.” Rebecca mentions before peeking once more into the prison door.

Diego is actually slightly in awe by Rebecca’s words. Wow. Jake cares if he dies. That’s so sweet. Jake always seems like the type who doesn’t care about anything and is just in life for the beer but, he has a heart.

“Wow, that’s—“

“Shush.” Rebecca presses a finger to her lips out of urgency, reaching up to swipe her keycard over the lock and then the door opens automatically. “Stay behind me.” She orders solemnly and Diego nods along immediately, catching the commanding presence of her voice.

They take their first few steps into the area and it’s pretty secluded and extremely secure. Cameras cover every inch of the place and every door has a lock. No windows and barely any light. Damn, Rourke really doesn’t want any of his prisoners, his supposable flawless system seems to have been proved wrong.

Rebecca closes her eyes and searches her brain for a moment, trying to find the memory of where Vaaryn’s cell is and her dark eyes light up when she figures out the answer.

“Follow me.” She insists, marching down the hall as Diego trails behind her, the gun shaking in his trembling grasp. He really doesn’t wanna have to use this. He keeps it low so he doesn’t panic and fire a bullet on accident. Diego May even be the type of person to do something like that and he really doesn’t wanna be responsible for a death.

On light careful footsteps, Rebecca leads Diego further into the dimly lit prison area, the room appearing more sinister the more they venture through it. This is certainly no ordinary prison. It’s almost like a place to hold experiments because that’s basically what the Vaanti are to Rourke. A chance to create new puppets and tame them like they’re worthless animals. They don’t deserve to be treated like that and Diego sure as hell isnt prepared to just sit back and let Vaaryn watch his people suffer. Vaaryn is really the only one who is fighting and really wants to avoid Rourke’s games and not give in to the temptation to become one of his many soldiers. Who would fight by the side of someone like Rourke? He’s a man with only one person in mind and that is himself. He’s hunting for the most powerful thing in existence and that seems to be the entire world. He doesn’t plan to keep his wild dreams at bay. He’s taking the wrong kind of action and now his world has backfired before his very eyes. Who knows what he’s gonna do now? Restart the timeline and plan it out differently. What good is that gonna do? The differences will be slim and it seems like he’s only thinking about precise preparation now.

Keeping the Vaanti captive mustn’t have been his plan before. They had done nothing to him. All they wanted was to live in the peace in the world they had discovered. They built and earned everything they had and their lives revolved around keeping their land and territory safe so assholes like Rourke couldn’t show up and attempt to take over. They did a good job of protecting the island but suddenly Rourke seemed to get the better of them. But why would he have needed an army if the entire world was set to be in his hands once his timeline was activated? It just doesn’t make any sense.

Diego and Rebecca swerve around a corner, startled by the sight before them. They come face to face with two security guards that were clearly still around to guard the heavy prison area. By the time the guards even spot Rebecca, she’s got her gun aimed at them, ready for fire any split second now but Diego is fumbling, as he’s extremely reluctant to end a life when really Arachnids are just doing their and listening to the wrong people.

“Mckenzie?! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” One of the security guards questions, his eyes wide to find Rebecca has become an obvious traitor.

“Shut up.” Rebecca simply orders before putting a bullet in both the guards head and they’re lifeless bodies tumble to the floor. Shaken, Diego just stares at the death before him, eyes wide and jaw practically hanging off his face.

Rebecca barely glances his way before preparing to start down the hall again. She lowers her gun to her hips and releases a heavy sigh. The conflict playing at Diego’s face prevents him from not deciding if that was right or not.

“How was that so easy to do?” Diego suddenly questions, furrowing his brows in a manor of bewilderment. Rebecca snaps her head in his direction, surprised by his sudden words.

“It’s not easy. It just has to be done.” Rebecca points out simply, reloading her gun before wiping away a drop of blood that had somehow made it on the weapon.

Diego isn’t satisfied with her answer, his eyes rolling in annoyance at the fact that someone as safety-conscious as Rebecca would find it so easy to end a life. “Does it really have to be done? That was someone’s life, Rebecca, and you just took it away from them.” Diego is clearly trying to guilt-trip her but he’s also trying to help her. Rourke must messed her mind up enough for her to think that killing is a reasonable solution and that is should be done if you consider that person to be an enemy.

Truthfully it’s not ok and it’s unfortunate that Rebecca actually gave in to Rourke’s mind games at one point. She should have fought back. She’s a badass police officer for fuck’s sake.

Rebecca shakes her head defiantly, her head hanging low. “They’re bad people. They work with Rourke. Besides, if they weren’t dead... you’d probably be dead. Don’t you wanna save your man?”

“Of course I do but I don’t wanna leave a trail of bodies behind me.” Diego counters, closing his eyes and exhaling softly. He’s trying to figure out how people even find it right to join forces with Rourke. He’s a hideous form of a man and even daring to listen to him sounds impossible. “...Why did you ever listen to Rourke?”

Rebecca

Rebecca stiffens hearing Diego’s question, a tension spiralling up her body and making her freeze in place. She probably couldn’t explain it in a matter of words and she has done some horrific things, especially when it came to working with Rourke. Her mind was taken over by his idea of heaven and paradise and she wanted nothing than to be apart of that. Some part of her was even keen to find her brother and because she thought he was guilty, she wanted to turn him in... because it was the right thing.

The right thing. Is there really any meaning to the right thing? Doing something that is right always ends with something wrong anyway. All Rebecca’s life, she’s been determined to always do the right thing. She never wanted to be that person that did something wrong and becoming a police officer seemed like the perfect opportunity to do something right, especially after finding out about the shit that happened with her brother. It saddened her that he was out there, isolated and alone. But another part of her always thought he was dead. And it saddens her that she was actually the one still looking for him, trying to get him caught. No matter if they were related or not. Turning him in was the right thing so that’s what Rebecca was forced to do.

That’s also probably how she ended up working with Rourke because all he ever talked about was doing the right thing. Suddenly, it was announced privately that he owned the law. That he is what would save this cruel excuse of a world. That he would find the power to save it but never did she think his overall intentions were to overtake the world. He wanted the literal world in his hands. And Rebecca was too blind to see that he was really manipulating everyone into thinking that it was the right thing... because humans always choose to believe that whenever someone says that something is the right thing to do... they’re not lying.

Clearly that isn’t the case anymore.

After what seems like forever, Rebecca finally lifts her head and meets Diego’s chestnut eyes, trying to form as genuine of an answer as she can. “...I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Really... you believed in him?” Diego asks, his head lowering in shame at Rebecca’s past actions. “Even when it came to taking your brother into custody.”

Rebecca is slightly hurt by what Diego adds and she blinks back tears as she suddenly realises something. “Five years and Jake never could be caught. He ran and ran over the entire world and not once could we find him. Then impulsively, he made a mistake. And that mistake was coming back to the States. I bet somehow he knew that would be his downfall because he came looking for the only friend he’s ever really cared about. I’m certain he would have left ages ago because Mike wouldn’t be able to hide for long. Then he met Logan... and everything seemed to change. He was suddenly so... easy to find. Even I found that suspicious. It’s like this was... meant to be somehow. I don’t know how to explain it but... I kinda have a feeling.” Rebecca explains, her mind drifting to the brightest and darkest places. Who knows when they’re gonna get out of here? But it sure as hell better be soon.

“Wow... you have no idea how much Logan and Jake have been through. Pretty far beyond this world.” Diego chuckles under his breath, as he looks up, reminiscing on all the good times and bad times that Logan and Jake have experienced. A love like theirs is pretty damn incredible. They’ve been through so many worlds and still managed to find each other in the darkness. It’s unbelievable. Let’s just hope it lasts...

“I can imagine.” Rebecca agrees, nodding. She glances at her weapon and raises it again. “You ready now, Diego? We gotta move.”

Despite the risk of tears, Diego gazes once more at the bodies on the floor, closing his eyes and sucking in a sharp breath. There’s always gonna be doubt and anxiety echoing in his body and a part of him that wants to run away and forget this whole thing happened. But this entire experience is to rescue Vaaryn and he won’t ever recover if he lets his soulmate suffer in a place like this.

He has to remember why he’s here. For the love of his life.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

Mike

Finally, all the soldiers have been knocked out of the land of the living. Sighs of relief echo throughout the iron room as the last soldier falls to the ground, curtesy of a bullet from Estela’s heavy loaded gun. Bodies surround the group and they try their very best not to stare at the gruesome sight. Too much blood has been spilled today but there wasn’t really a choice as they’d have no chance of getting out of here alive if some killing wasn’t done.

Still, maybe that’s just what Mike’s mind has gotten used to. His time in Lundgren’s army was traumatic and hell even his time as Rourke’s robot puppet. A time of torture and manipulation that he couldn’t escape. He’s more relieved than anything that he was able to save Jake from such a traumatic fate. He never deserves torture. No one does.

This whole experience is too difficult to believe and they only have about fifteen minutes or even less to escape this hell hole or they’re doomed to damnation.

Jake instantly paces over to Logan and wraps her in a hug. She returns it eagerly and buries her face in his chest, savouring the moment. It’s understandable why they are so touchy with each other. They’ve been apart for two months or so and it’s probably been torture for the both of them. They’ve watched each other die and survive too many times too. They deserve peace after all this time but they just can’t find any of it.

Hesitantly, they pull away, Jake planting a soft kiss on her forehead before parting with her. He notices a little drop of blood has somehow landed on Logan’s cheek and he wipes it off with a frown.

“You okay?” Jake questions, a concerned look in his cerulean eyes.

Logan bites her lip nervously, glancing at the bodies around her. Seeing her sadness, Jake quickly guides her eyes back in his direction. He hates her seeing all that death around her. “I will be... I just hate this.” Logan admits, her eyes falling to the floor sheepishly. “Sorry... for everything. I never even knew that tried to sacrifice myself until Diego told me... and Rourke tricked me into believing that I made the choice to bring us here.”

Jake’s slightly taken aback by her sudden confession as he cups her face with comforting intentions. “Wow... I really wanna kill that son of a bitch.” He hisses under her breath out of frustration. A deadly hatred that’s been building up for months now. “...You’ve been hurt too much, darlin’. Now we just gotta get outta here and then we can forget all about this.”

“But won’t Rourke still be out there? He wont stop until he’s got all the power he wants.” Logan points out, tears starting to rise in her ocean eyes again.

Desperation hits Jake and he shakes his head at her violently. “No, Princess. You’re not gonna break down on me now. We gotta focus. You told me that when I...” Jake trails off for a moment, his gaze landing on Mike. “...when I lost Mike. But I pulled through and you gotta do that too. Please.”

Logan wipes away her tears and inhales sharply, trying to fill herself with any other emotion that isn’t her pain and anguish. She needs to fight on otherwise they’ll all be in pieces in less than fifteen minutes. They have to move. Now.

“Okay. Okay! I’m ready.” Logan clarifies and Jake shoots her a proud smile. He reloads his gun and keeps a sharp eye on the door in case any other Arachnid soldiers come by.

“So... not to be that guy but... how the hell are we getting out of here? I don’t exactly know where we are. Or how you found us.” Jake suddenly enquires, turning to Logan with curiosity in his expression.

“Oh, yeah. Um... you’re in London in some underground laboratory and... Rebecca is the one who helped us get here.” Logan explains rather hurriedly, considering their circumstances.

“Wait... London?! And Rebecca’s here?! But she—“

“I know. But she had a change of heart. She helped us get here and she’s with Diego rescuing Vaaryn right now...” Logan adds, her eyes suddenly growing wide when she realises something, an uneasy feeling washing over her. “Oh my god. Diego! He’s in that prison area! We have to save him too before it’s too late.”

Estela forms a frown, releasing a hesitant sigh. “Lo... it might already be too late.”

“No don’t say that! You can’t say that!” Logan starts to feel her frustration and desperation again, a nausea rapidly rising in her stomach. “We’re gonna save him! Because we can’t leave him behind!” Logan argues, throwing her hands up in defence of her best friend.

“You’re not the only one dealing with loss, Lo! I had to leave my mother behind!” Estela bites back, tightening her ponytail and throwing her hands on her hips as she takes a deep breath.

Logan’s anger is cut short and disbelief cracks through. “Wait your mother is alive?”

“Maybe half-alive.”

Mike suddenly facepalms hard, glancing at the timer built into the wall. “Look, we all have a ton of shit to catch up on but we only got ten minutes before this place blows so let’s get outta this hell hole!”

“How do you expect us to get out, Mike?” Jake asks, his sarcastic tone returning for the first time which is almost surprising.

“This place is gonna explode right? But not everything will. Rourke said so himself. The place where the Vaanti is locked up is gonna be stabilised to keep it safe and in tact. Plus, Rebecca brought us here through that giant lift that was in that place. So...”

“We just need to make it back over there and have it take us back to the surface. Even if the bomb goes off, we won’t be harmed.” Logan adds, folding her arms and producing a weak smile. “Damn, Mike. I’m impressed.

“Come on then. We’re literally running out of time.” Mike urges and Estela follows Mike out of the area, as he tries to retrace their steps back to where the Vaanti were being held.

However, Logan lingers behind, a frown crossing her features as her mind drifts back to Diego and Rebecca, lost in the prison area. Jake pauses when he notices she’s not following her. He make sure Mike and Estela are still in eye view and luckily they’ve paused for a moment to examine their surroundings. Jake caringly takes Logan’s hand and gazes at her with genuine concern in his cerulean eyes.

“Hey... what’s wrong?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.

“...We’re not gonna leave Diego, right?” Logan bombards Jake with that dreaded question and he releases a heavy sigh, unsure what to say at first. Noticing his puzzled expression, a conflict playing out on his features and in his mind, Logan cups Jake’s cheek and a solemn look floods in her eyes. “Remember it’s Rebecca we’d abandon too.”

With that, Jake sucks in a sharp breath and bites the inside of his mouth. He looks to the timer and carefully examines it. The time reads eight minutes and he knows that may or may not be enough time to get both Rebecca and Diego and even Vaaryn out in time. Determination overtakes and Jake catches the sweet feeling of certainty after such a long time without it.

“Princess... I might know a way.” Jake declares before tugging Logan by the hand over to Mike and Estela, who are waiting impatiently for them.

“You do realise we’re so close to dying right?”

Jake just rolls his eyes and runs hand through his hair as he figures out the best way to explain his insane idea. “Ok... we can’t leave my sister and Diego. They’re too important. Estela, you should know that.”

Estela seems a little offended but she just brushes it off and Mike rubs her shoulder comfortingly.

“But... I have a way. I’ll go down to the prison part and get them all out in time. Who knows if they’re already out but it’s a chance I’m not willing to take. I’ll go. You guys escape and I’ll try and get them out in time.” Jake explains and everyone is shocked by his sudden courage but Jake has always been like that. Stubborn and pretty fucking crazy.

“Jake, why would you do that? Why not let me go with you?” Logan questions, shock clouding her mind as she thinks about what could happen to the husband she just got back.

“Princess, I ain’t got time to be convinced otherwise. Let me do this. Let me save your friend. I may come back... or I may not.” Jake admits, his heart stinging as he speaks those last few words, watching Logan’s eyes pain with tears and anguish.

“No, Jake! This is not happening. I’m not gonna even risk losing you again.”

Jake knew she’d react like this and finds himself conflicted once more. He needs to be sure. Impulsive. “Baby, let me do this. I’ll come back to you. I promise.”

“You always say that.”

“And have I ever stayed away?” Jake challenges and that makes Logan finally relent. Wordlessly, she drags Jake in for a long, passionate kiss and lets in linger for as long as her breath will let her. She isn’t about to lose him again but she can’t stop him from making the right choice. She can’t be selfish. Not now.

Once they pull away, their foreheads collide and they share sweet gazes so meaningful. “You better come back to me or I’m gonna be pissed.” Logan warns and Jake smirks at that, glad their goodbye is lighthearted rather than full of sadness.

“Always, darlin’.” Jake replies in that low husky tone of his and he plants one more kiss on her lips before they finally part and Jake wraps Mike in a hug.

“Be careful, Grandpa.”

“‘Course I will, kid. You don’t gotta worry about me.”

“Sure I don’t.” Mike retorts and they share a laugh before Jake offers Estela a hug before starting towards the exit.

He shoots one last glance at his wife, giving her look that only she would know. Jake mouths the words ‘I love you’ and she mouths them back. With an everlasting smile, he disappears out of sight and Logan can only hope that isn’t the last she sees of her husband.

“Now come on. We gotta get on that lift.”

Diego

Finally, they made it. Diego’s chestnut gaze lingers over the iron metal door that is the only thing separating him from the love of his life, who is supposedly sat right in this cell. Diego can only guess what he’s been through. Battered and bruised. Tortured and scarred. Diego is expecting imperfection but all he really cares about is seeing Vaaryn’s face for the first time in what feels like forever.

It’s been too long and Diego can’t wait to be back in Vaaryn’s life again. He’s surprisingly anxious but he knows Vaaryn will be astonished to see him. He may even be surprised but no matter what, they’ll be together again and that’s all Diego is looking forward to.

Rebecca moves to swipe her keycard over the lock and the door to the cell slides open slightly, becoming ajar but it looks like complete and utter darkness on the inside. Is it possible that Vaaryn hasn’t seen an inch of light during his time here? If so, who knows how bright the outside world will appear to him? Now Diego is feeling slightly scared and goosebumps crawl up his arms.

Rebecca points her gun up once more and gestures towards the cell, urging Diego to go inside. “He’s in there now. Go. I’ll stay out here and keep watch. Be quick though. You never know when we could get outnumbered.” Rebecca warns and Diego nods understandingly.

“Ok...” is all he manages to say as he moves his hand to push the door to the cell open even more and he enters it gradually, anxiety over-corrupting him in that moment.

He expected excitement from himself and an energy like no other. Truth is, there’s always gonna be a part of him that’s scared. Scared of the unknown. Scared of the future. Scared of what’s to come. What if gets Vaaryn back only to lose him again in such a limited time? No one really knows what could happen. Diego just needs to make the most of it and stop being afraid.

Now motivated, Diego ventures further into the cell, a bright light consuming the darkness of the cell and covering it like a mask. The light suddenly highlights a specific corner of the room where... oh no...

Immediately, Diego feels tears hitting his eyes and a scream bites back in his throat. He... he can’t believe what he’s seeing. His mind boggles with a million thoughts and doubts and so many goddamn questions. He feels his knees go weak as he glances at the sickening sight before him. A river of emotion pools out of him and Diego collapses to his knees, rapidly moving over to his husband and it kills him to finally admit what’s happened in his head.

Vaaryn... is dead.

Diego can’t even believe it. Why would so someone do this? Rourke. It had to be Rourke. He must have realised that he’d never be able to get into Vaaryn’s head or make him part of his army so the best solution was to kill him off. Why? Rourke didn’t need to do this. It wasn’t an answer. Murder is practically entertainment to him and he sees it as a way to solve his problems but it would never fully help him achieve the kind of power he wants. It only leaves a trail of bodies in his wake.

But why? Out of all people, Rourke had to go and kill Vaaryn. The only person who has ever really loved Diego. And it’s the first time Diego has really experienced real love and managed to feel so strongly about someone to the point where it feels like you’re destined to be together. Vaaryn taught Diego so many things and loved him for the dork that he was. Diego learned so much about the Vaanti from him and he found himself falling in love with Vaaryn without even realising. Even over the six months he was held captive, Vaaryn was the only one who really stuck by Diego, even when their intentions were to get something from him. Something changed and Diego just happened to find a soulmate in the deceased man in his arms right now. Why would someone do this? Just for power? Just for gain?

Diego is sick of lives being taken, especially when it’s the person he loves most being lost because of Rourke’s endless greed. His presence is torture and that torture spreads wherever that man dares to venture. The world would be a constant war with him in complete power.

An ocean of emotion and sadness floods over Diego and he knows it may never go away. How is he ever supposed to recover from this? It’s like losing half of his heart. He cradles Vaaryn in his arms and blinks back tears every few seconds.

“Vaaryn... why... before I could get to you... or at least say goodbye... I would have told you I loved you... I would have... but I’m too late.” Diego pours out his heart and soul in that moment of grief, trying his best to shed all his misery in those minutes because he still needs to get back to Logan. “...who would do this to you?”

All of a sudden, Diego catches the sound of ragged, menacing laugh echoing in the distance and the familiar sound of someone puffing smoke makes him realise who it is immediately. He slowly turns away from his deceased husband and he’s forced to suck in a sharp breath when he realises who is stood in front of him. A face he thought he’d never lay eyes on again.

Rex fucking Lundgren.

“Lundgren?” Diego is genuinely shocked to his face again and he practically looks the same. Seems like he’s been working for Rourke since he would brought back like Mike was. Was that even on purpose?

“Ha. You remember too.” Lundgren scoffs, shaking his head defiantly. “Rourke’s system was really a load of shit wasn’t it?”

Diego suddenly shudders when he spots a bloody weapon in Lundgren’s hands. A loaded gun to be exact. Then Diego briefly tilts his head back to Vaaryn, realising there’s a deep bullet hole that could have gone directly through his head. An uneasy feeling washes over Diego and he takes a cautious step back from Lundgren, suddenly realising what may have happened.

“...D-Did you kill...” Diego can’t bear to speak of his soulmate’s name, too pained to relive this nightmare even though it’s still going on.

Lundgren forms a deadly scowl but a deviance like no other lurks too. “Your blue friend... of course I did. He was useless anyway.”

Seeing how careless Lundgren really is, Diego clenches his hands into fists, his eyebrows arching as he takes slow deep breaths. “...Why?”

“Why?” Lundgren repeats sarcastically, taking another drag out of his cigar before releasing the smoke into Diego’s face, causing him to cough violently. “Rourke’s plan isn’t working out and it never will. But I still work for him so when I blame this murder on Lila, Rourke will make me his right hand man.”

“Really.... you did this for personal gain. Hell, you just wanted to get paid.”

“Damn straight. Don’t worry about it, I’m pretty sure I’ve done you a favour.” Lundgren suddenly says and that causes Diego to start feeling a frustration he’s never felt before.

“How can you even say that? All you do is kill carelessly and not give a damn. I’m surprised you haven’t killed me yet.” Diego suggests, folding his arms as a tension climbs up his body.

Dropping his cigar to the floor and stomping on it, Lundgren levels his gun at Diego’s head and smirks devilishly. “Well, that was my next idea. How ‘bout I hit you in the same place as blue man? Pretty sure you’d appreciate that.”

For once, Diego isn’t scared. This is the first time he’s actually felt prepared. In truth, some part of him may actually want everything to be over. Being with Vaaryn in a better place sounds a hell of a lot better than being here. Suffering. Being tortured. Being in a world where Vaaryn no longer exists. This sounds much better. Besides, it’s not like most people would miss him anyway.

Diego closes his eyes and exhales softly, readying himself for the sweet release of death and maybe things will finally be ok when it’s over. Diego can hear the deafening sound of Lundgren easing his finger over the trigger and suddenly the sound of a bullet being released echoes throughout the iron cell!

Diego expects to have his conscience ripped away from him by now but... he’s still here. Conscious. Alive. His body still in tact. His mind still pained with Vaaryn’s sudden disappearance from his life. Nothing is over. He’s not in a better place.

Question is... what the hell was that sound?

Diego opens his eyes, only to find Lundgren no longer in sight. He’s no longer at gunpoint and instead he’s greeted by a rather different face, still familiar and recognisable however. Tears are still pouring from his cheeks, some drying out but they won’t go away. The pain is too strong. Diego’s eyes dart down to the floor, only to find a lifeless Lundgren on the ground, curtesy of the familiar face before him.

Damn, damn, damn. It’s Jake Mckenzie.

Jake looks bruised and battered, more what Diego expected Vaaryn to appear like but things turned out so much differently, in appearance but the relief on his expression tells Diego that Jake hasn’t realised that Vaaryn is lying dead in the corner yet. He’s gazing down at Lundgren’s body incredulously.

“Wow... you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that for.” Jake mutters under his breath, lowering his gun and lifting his head up to Diego, concern suddenly flooding his brown eyes - especially when he notices the tears in Diego’s grief-stricken eyes. “Oh my god, squirt. Are you okay? What happened to you?” Jake asks with genuine worry, a frown falling onto his lips. “Did you get Vaaryn?”

Now those words hurt and that prompts Diego to point to Vaaryn’s body, not daring to look himself as he can’t bear the sight anymore. Jake follows his gaze and his cerulean eyes immediately go wide. Jake and Vaaryn weren’t as close but it still would hurt to see someone you once knew lying lifeless and isolated. Jake appears in pain but he’s so much better at covering it up than Diego. His eyes are threatened by tears but they never really make it out of the corners. Diego can’t help but wonder how Jake manages to always keep his defence walls up and never lose control or break. It’s truly remarkable.

“Oh my god...” Jake runs his hands through his sandy hair out of stress and he’s immediately flooded with a flashback of when Jake barely stopped Vaaryn from taking his own life and now Lundgren has put a bullet through his head. Hell, maybe that’s what he wanted. “Squirt...”

“Jake... I get it. You’re gonna tell me to focus but I just lost the love of my life but I’m guessing... you found yours.” Diego points out, suddenly hit by the fact that Logan probably got her love back but Diego doesn’t get to.

Jake is struck by guilt and he hangs his head in shame. “Diego... I’m sorry but we really need to go...”

“Why?”

“Well, we need to get out of here and there’s a bomb that’s gonna go off in about five minutes so come on.” Jake urges and Diego tugs him by his wrist, ushering him out as quickly as possible. Not just for everyone’s sake but for Diego’s sake specifically. Looking at the sight of death is much worse than just thinking about it. Reliving it in your head is better than really going through it. Jake learned that over the years, experiencing enough losses and death. He never seems to get away from it.

“Wait... a bomb?” Diego reacts, jaw almost hitting the floor.

“No time to explain. We gotta get to the exit. We got a plan to escape. You just have to trust me.” Jake states solemnly and Diego just nods, showing he understands but is still shaken up over what happened.

They’re about to take off down the hall until Jake realises something. “Hold on... where’s Rebecca?” His doubts start to shine through and a dreaded theory builds up in his head.

“I don’t know. She was keeping guard outside the door.” Diego explains, the same theory seeming to build up in his own mind.

Jake is almost afraid to say it out loud. “If she was keeping guard... then Lundgren could have only gotten in the cell if she...” He trails off, in complete disbelief that his very own sister would choose Rourke over family.

“...let him in and took off.” Diego adds, releasing a hesitant sigh, disappointed in Rebecca.

Jake abruptly lets out a frustrated shout, his fist making contact with the unbreakable iron wall. His fist is scattered with blood when he lifts it and a look of anguish is spread across his face.

“Jake...”

“We gotta move.”

“But... you’re—“

“NOW!”

Logan

They’re so close. Fingertips away from freedom. The surface of this hell so close they can practically feel it. Two minutes. Two minutes until explosion. Even if this area was still safe and it’s certain to say Rourke would make sure that the outside world wasn’t disturbed by the explosion. He may have a plan to make it look like a simple disturbance and he wants it look like we’ve all been found dead after all this time. It’s the perfect crime but it sure as hell isnt gonna become a reality.

No one wants to leave Jake, Diego, Rebecca and Vaaryn. And they sure as hell won’t. Even if it puts their own survival in jeopardy. Jake McKenzie is a fucking fighter and he will make sure everyone is safe and then he’ll come running like he always does, barely away from his survival but he always gets it eventually.

Logan can’t lose him. She needs him to come back and her only hope is her patience and she plans to wait out as long as possible for Jake and everyone else. She can’t lose any of them. They’re too important to her. She’s sick of losing people and death seems to follow her now. She can’t bare to lose anyone else.

Not now. Not ever.

Another minute goes by. One more minute until their fate is decided. So much undeniable pressure and it’s certain Estela is seconds away from pulling the switch.

“Estela, don’t! Not yet. Please. Wait for Jake.” Logan urges, practically pleading with Estela and noticing the utter anguish and desperation in her ocean eyes holds Estela back and she keeps her hand hovering over the switch.

Mike is praying with Logan, wanting to have Jake alive as much as her. They came here for Jake and if they don’t leave with him safe than none of this was worth it and they are just left with a story of how they barely escaped death.

Forty seconds.

“Lo, I cant wait anymore! We have to go now!” Estela warns and Logan almost is forced to accept the fact that Jake may not be coming until... she catches the sound of him calling her name.

“Princess! Keep that damn door open!” Jake calls out to her and she nods fiercely, a proud smile spreading across her features. Mike forms his own smile and they share a knowing look. They both knew that Jake would pull through and they’re so glad he did. It’s not only Jake, however. Diego is with him. What’s strange is that there is no Vaaryn or Rebecca. What the hell happened?

Thirty seconds.

Jake finally makes it through the door and Diego follows after, a pained expression on his face and if only he could express his excitement to see his best friend again. But he can’t. Not right now. The first thing Jake does is wrap Logan in a deep embrace, so fucking happy to see her even though they were only apart for a few minutes.

“I told you I’d come back, darlin’.” Jake whispers, as he gradually brings their lips together and Logan keeps the kiss brief, joining their foreheads for a moment.

“Didn’t doubt you for a second.” She whispers back before parting with Jake and turning to Diego, wrapping him in a welcoming hug. He barely accepts it, tears threatening to spill from his eyes again.

“Diego, what happ—“

“No time! We need to go!” Estela exclaims before slamming the switch and immediately the door slides shut and the lift starts going up at a steady pace. “Jesus fucking Christ! Can’t this thing go any faster?”

Fifteen seconds.

“We can make it, Estela. Don’t worry.” Mike assures, resting a hand on the small on her back and he’s surprised she even goes along with the action. But it seems to be helping as well as his words.

Ten seconds.

Jake and Logan hold onto each other out of desperation, hoping and praying this isn’t the end already. They can make it out. Once this lift is covered up. Nothing can get to them and they can’t die. All they have is hope for now. Hope they can do this and fight through.

Five seconds.

Finally, the lift makes it to a stop at the top the land, revealing exactly where they are. Once again, Logan recognised the familiar outskirts of London, an abandoned area where no one ever close. Rourke chose a decent location for his lair but now he’s going to have to find another one and pretty quickly. He always seems to have a backup plan. Everyone quickly jumps off the lift and onto the earthly ground, a place Jake hasn’t stood on in what feels like forever.

The last second ticks by and they expected to only hear the sound of the explosions from inside but no... the lift abruptly is slashed off the ground from the impact of the explosion. Everyone is shocked by what they see when they dare to peer through the hole. Rourke said his army would be protected and preserved but he has literally gone back against his word and set an explosion for the entire Vaanti. They’re all dead.

He destroyed half of his army. But why? And does he know they barely escaped with their lives? Hell, they’re lucky they made it out alive. If that last second had disappeared while they were still on the lift... they’d be just as dead as the animalistic Vaanti right now.

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