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ghostgirl101 · 2 years

Note

Yellow! Loved your BEN Drowned Dating HCs, they made my heart skip a few beats. Pardon me if this isn't allowed, but could I request some sort of BEN "aftermath" scenario with a reader who's been distancing herself from electricity in order to escape BEN? (A tad bit like Netflix's horror movie Umma if you've seen it) Then one day, electricity pops back intro her life, hauling a BEN along with it who's not about to let you repeat the same mistake without knowing the consequences.

Condolences if that isn't allowed. If not, Ticci Toby Dating HCs instead?

BEN Drowned; You Can't Run

|| Word Count: 2.2K || Angst → Comfort → Fluff ||

A/N: Can do, I've been wanting to write for BEN again, though this did take me a while 🙃 and I'll add Toby headcanons to my list. I've been thinking about some stuff for Jeff The Killer too? I mean, if you want 😎

A releasing click sounds as you pull the final plug out of the socket, flipping off the switches on the wall, the little red strips hidden as they're pushed down. Your hands are trembling, and you stay where you're standing for a few long moments, your uneven breathing all you can hear.

There. It's done. It's gone. Breathe.

Your home is stripped of its electronics, the TV screen dead, your laptop and phones' batteries lying beside them. Even some of the lights are off, every mains switch is turned off, red strips hidden from sight. This was the last resort, and you know it could work if you leave everything off for a while. BEN can't get to you without electricity to power your gadgets, practically all of which have been infected by his presence. He was everywhere, but like this, he can't get to you. You're okay.

It wasn't that BEN had ever tried to harm you, though you knew he could if he tried. The whole thing was just so unsettling and confusing, it kept you up at night. Your life went from normal, to a glitchy, disturbing version of Majora's Mask you'd found at a garage sale, from an old neighbour who was moving out garage sale. His haunting eyes pierced through you every time the Nintendo 64 powered on, empty, like the elegy should be, but very much alive.

He liked playing with you, teasing that was almost taunts if it wasn't for the oddly suggestive nicknames and phrases sneaked into each jumpscare and wrong moment of the game. At one point, you were so freaked out by the boy in the game that you threatened to destroy the cartridge, to anything that could hear you, the fireplace on and humming with burning energy as you readied yourself to take the game out and toss it into the flames.

That was when the haunting, materialized form of BEN Drowned had snapped to life and simply pushed itself out of the TV connected to the Nintendo. Those cold, ghostly pale hands had grabbed your wrists tightly, though not so tight as to hurt, and the same intense eyes from the elegy bore into you, masking any emotion as you dared not to struggle in the being's hands.

"You can't run."

No, you couldn't. What with BEN loose from the game and with free access to anything powered by electricity, you didn't have much choice but to let him invade your life. You kept reminding yourself of the questionable fact that BEN didn't seem to have any intention to hurt you, physically or mentally. He just showed up when he pleased, which was quite often, and watched as you worked, deleting a sentence or two just to get on your nerves, or played as a supposed robot on online games, the screen glitching with his presence every thirty seconds. You'd almost, almost gotten used to it.

It was when you were reminded of exactly who BEN Drowned was and what he could do that you panicked, hence where you are now. Even though at this early-ish point in your time together, most about him remains a mystery to you, you always knew just how deadly his antics could be. He tears people apart by driving them paranoid and crazed by what they see and experience, until they lose all sense of reality, most even ending themselves before BEN does.

Some girl from your class had started mocking you on a group chat, and you knew that as soon as you'd opened it, BEN had most likely read it before you did. Because, just minutes after, her account had updated with several posts that weren't all that wholesome at all, unflattering, candid shots of things no one should share on the internet up for all to see. Then the account was closed, and that was that.

She didn't show up to class the next day. BEN showed you exactly why.

"She shouldn't have done that."

All the blood, all the fear, the abnormality of it all, really got to you. It was one thing having a really odd kind of friend that seemed to just be overly protective, but this was too much. He had the strength to do the same to you. What if you said something accidentally that set him off? What if he got bored of you? How much more stable and normal could your life be if he moved on?

And the only way for that to happen is for him to not have any way to get to you. He has no proper reason to stick around, none that you can figure out, since you aren't one of his victims. What are you, then? Someone that interests him? He won't be mad for long, will he? He'll get bored.

Yes. That's it. He'll get bored. Of course he will.

The tense silence that fills your house when everything's unplugged makes you stay standing still for a long minute, double-checking everything's cut from power. You can make this work, if that's what it takes.

A day went past. Then another. And, all at once, after a boring day in class, your friend approaches you with a bewildered look.

"I did what you asked. Bit weird."

"What?"

"Why'd you unplug everything in your house? Some competition? Look, I managed to swing by yours and find the spare key under the mat to turn your stuff back on. I guess you're gonna need it like that if your parents are visiting. Don't want them to see you living in the stone age, I guess. Oh, and you owe me, bestie."

"Wait, wait," your voice heightened in dread, "I never asked you that. My- my parents aren't coming over! What are you-"

BEN.

Crap.

"What're you talking about? Are you messing with me? I got your text this morning, and since you work through lunch and I don't, it was easier for me to just run in. Look, no biggie, alright? Why do you look so worried? I didn't rob you."

"I- I know," you breathe shakily, forcing as genuine a smile as you can muster on your face, knowing that it would be more than unfair to expose them to BEN too. "Thank you."

"Sure."

Where do you go? Back home, where he's waiting for you? What'll he do? Most likely kill you. If you weren't his victim before, you must be now. Or maybe you can stay with a friend for... for what? Forever?

You can't run.

Every step you take that leads back to your home seems heavier and heavier, and although from the outside, the house looks perfectly normal and quiet, you know there's a fatal storm coming. All you can do now is face it and try to reason with it.

You unlock the door slowly, stepping tentatively inside and closing the door, leaving it unlocked in case you need to make a break for it, in the rare event that you get the chance to. And, as your friend confirmed, there's everything back in, ready for the counter to reset.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you feel eyes all around you, and solid static coating the atmosphere, buzzing coming from every screen and making the light twitch when you turn it on. You take one step into the living room before the colour drains from your face, fear rushing over all other thoughts as a bloody spark blinds you momentarily, before revealing the boy. You squeak as freezing hands clamp onto your arms tightly, pressing you back against the wall.

You're forced to look into his eyes, his crimson stare blazing amongst the dark, hollow space around his pupils. They're bleeding, the deep red dribbling down his pale cheeks, his usual amused, smug smirk replaced with something much more sinister. He's scowling in untamed fury, and you can't make yourself take a step back, frozen stiff to the spot. The lights are practically sparking from how much they're flashing with his wild anger, and you can't do a thing about it, except look straight back at him helplessly.

"You shouldn't have done that."

Your mouth's agape, scarcely blinking in dread of what BEN might do, everything you've been scared of just leading to this moment. He speaks with a snarl, and you flinch, trying to make yourself say something to diffuse the situation, even by a little.

"I know," is what you manage to whisper brokenly.

"Are you stupid?! Bored and didn't want me anymore? Found someone better? Shutting me out's the safest way, is that it?!"

You jump as a lightbulb from nearby smashes by the force of BEN's anger, glass spraying over the floor as the brightness winks out.

"Please, BEN-"

"No! I gave you one last chance, remember? You can't play with me anymore. It- it's not fair!"

He's not making any sense. Playing with him? You catch a fleeting moment to study his dark expression, and you can practically see the cracks of genuine vulnerability seeping through his dangerous fury. The lights have stopped flashing as violently as they were a minute ago, and so you take the chance to ask the inevitable.

"BEN... why do you care so much?"

He hangs onto you for a while longer, obviously processing the question as his grip grows looser, clenched jaw relaxing slightly. It doesn't seem to be out of defeat, though, but out of tiredness, BEN's piercing gaze weakening but never leaving your face, his scowl dropping into a frown. He almost looks hurt, concerned, the hints of caringness contrasting with his unnatural, deadly looks.

"If I go, who'll protect you?"

You don't know how to respond, and so you don't, lips clamped shut as you stare at him apologetically, his cold hands leaving your arms.

"Who'll watch over you?"

You blink at his expectant, thoughtful look, shaking your head silently. The blood's stopped gushing from his eyes now, but trickles down his face slowly, eerily like tear tracks.

"Who'll understand you?"

You let out a shaky sigh, your body finally moving, taking a hesitant step closer to him. BEN's eyes drift over to the TV absentmindedly, a frown still on his face, and you dare to take a step closer, reaching a hand out tentatively, your warm fingers brushing against his freezing ones. His eyes snap to you then, and you speak up quietly.

"BEN, I'm sorry."

He doesn't say anything, staring at you indifferently, and you try again, your fingers wandering to his hand, which doesn't pull away at when you lace your fingers with his.

"I'm sorry, BEN, I am. I won't shut you out again, okay?"

BEN still won't answer, and you dither, before doing something that'll either get you killed by shocking stuns of electricity, or his miraculous, unbothered amused smile. You take back your hand to steadily, anxiously wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his cold body close for a hug. He stiffens at the action in surprise, and you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact.

Impact that never comes.

A small poke at your side makes you shrink back with a stifled laugh, and you relax in relief and happiness when you spot BEN's signature smirk, though it's a little milder this time.

"That won't do you any good."

"Oh, come on," you plead, and he raises a brow, clearly enjoying the desperate attention. "I- I was just scared, okay?"

"I know."

"I won't run from you again, BEN. I know you wouldn't hurt me..."

He tilts his head to the side at the last sentence.

"Do you?"

You don't know how to answer the question honestly. "Well..."

BEN seems annoyed and almost exasperated by your response, and you notice how the blood has stopped leaking from his midnight eyes, his red pupils searching and reading you all too easily.

"Would it help if I tell you?"

You nod slowly, uncertain of his motives, but don't move away as he's suddenly an inch away from you, the lights flashing briefly from the electric energy.

"Yes?"

BEN nods, the cold skin of his hands pushing your middle back into the wall again, though much more carefully this time. Then, all too soon, the electric boy's lips are on yours, and your eyes widen in shock at the bold move, and the unusual, addictive feeling. He tastes electric and appley, his lips melding against yours perfectly, and there's nothing you can do but melt into the feeling, letting your eyes flutter shut within a second.

But then it's over after a few drawn-out moments, and you hold back from chasing the sensation as he lingers, his nose bumping against yours and his cool breath tickling your cheeks.

"I'd never hurt you."

You let out a shaky breath, a faded smile on your face.

"You scared me," you admit awkwardly.

"...So did you."

"I'm sorry," you plead again, and he shakes his head dismissively. You know he's forgiven you by the way he looks at you, with no trace of his previous aggravation in his red and black gaze.

"Never mind."

"Can't I make it up to you?" You try asking, but as soon as you've said it, you watch apprehensively as that signature, boyish smirk, that you've surprisingly missed, tugs at his lips.

"I can think of a few ways."

There's no running from that, either.

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faeriescorpio · 3 years

Text

Going Gray/Old Age

TW character death

Wilford goes gray. Egos face old age.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33467572

-------

His hair had started to fade.

Truthfully, it had been such a gradual change that Wilford hadn’t noticed it until one day Bim stepped into his television set with a head full of silver and had announced that he was going to stop dying his hair black. Wilford had stopped whatever he had been doing at the time-he can’t remember what it was anymore- to gape.

“You’re going gray?” He had managed to squawk, and Bim grinned at him proudly, mistaking his shock for admiration.

“You bet I am!” Bim said confidently. “I saw how Dr. Iplier looks, and its not that bad.” He preened in a nearby mirror. “I’m a silver fox,” He said to himself, and Wilford startled.

“Dr. Iplier is going gray?” He asked, feeling stunned. He hadn’t seen the doctor in a while, but surely-

“You need to step outside more!” Bim lectured. “I can’t believe you haven’t noticed that the doctor doesn’t have a dark hair left on his head!” He looked back at the mirror, running a hand through his hair. “Of course, I’m not there quite yet, got a few black hairs left-”

“Is everyone going gray?” Wilford demanded, jumping to his feet, and Bim chuckled.

“Practically everyone.” He peered at Wilford. “You’re even losing a bit of color, I think.”

“Excuse me,” Wilford choked out, and leapt to his feet and hurried out.

He sprinted down the hallway, passing Eric, who, Wilford noted almost absently, had become quite the man, as he headed to his room. He whipped the door shut and went to his bathroom, staring at the mirror.

His hair was starting to fade. His bubblegum pink had been reduced to a lighter shade, and amongst the dark hair he had had for so long lay a few hidden gray hairs.

Wilford stared.

Everyone was going gray. It was as if Wilford’s eyes had been opened. Dr. Iplier had let himself go, or so The Host was teasing that evening when Wilford joined the others for the meal. King was featuring a more salt-and-pepper sort of look, which was making Yandere cringe. Yandere and the Host looked the same as ever, but tale-tell wrinkles were beginning to pop up on the Host and Yandere and Eric, easily some of the youngest, were definitely starting to show signs of age.

Bing and the Googles looked the same as ever, Wilford thought, relieved, until Bing glitched in the middle of the meal and Google Prime had to take him away to be recharged.

“His battery doesn’t last as long,” He said, almost apologizing, and the other Googles muttered anxiously.

“The most recent update didn’t make me feel too great,” Green admitted quietly. “It’s a bit more complex than my systems want to handle.”

“We’re not obsolete yet,” Red muttered furiously, and Oliver stayed quiet save for the sound of his fan running.

Heart beginning to pound, Wilford scanned the others. Captain Magnum looked exhausted, his beard grayer than the rest of his hair, and the gray streaks in Yancy’s hair somehow suited him better, though his tattoos looked faded. Illinois’ hair was frighteningly impeccable, and Wilford knew that the man was stubbornly dying his hair and covering wrinkles with make-up.

“Wanna watch a movie with me after this, Jim?” Asked one of the Jims, hair still dark but looking the same as Eric and Yandere.

“You’ll just fall asleep in the middle,” The other Jim retorted, and Wilford’s stomach sank.

Only Dark looked the same as ever.

“Dark,” Wilford started slowly, and the demon looked over, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes, Wilford?” he asked patiently, and Wilford hesitated, feeling uncertain.

“...Nothing.” Dark hummed but thankfully let it go.

Wilford was never good with years, and normally he didn’t care, but when Silver Shepard and Ed Edgar disappeared he found himself wondering how long he had been alive.

“Google?” He whispered, entering the androids’ room late in the evening, and he opened the door and saw in the dark five shapes.

“Google!” He hissed, and a loading bar shot up.

“Waking…” it read, and it was impossible to tell if the bar was moving impossibly slow or not at all.

Wilford was off like a rocket.

The 1890’s. No, the 1880’s. No, the 1890’s was right the first time. Wilford shook his head. When had he been born? How long had he lived? Surely over a hundred years, maybe a hundred and fifty? He couldn’t remember, he didn’t know-

Dr. Iplier was gone and no one knew until the Jims had stumbled over the Host’s cold body. The double funeral had hurt, but not as much as the tired resignation on the androids’ faces.

They were quick to follow, simply never waking up from their charging pods.

Captain Magnum and Illinois went out with a bang, one disappearing on high seas and never returning after a terrible storm, the other insisting they weren’t too old for one last adventure that they didn’t have the reflexes to come back from.

He couldn’t read their tombstones, and he had to take a trip to the doctor- and didn’t that hurt, remembering they used to have a doctor?- to find out that he needed glasses. His eyesight was starting to fail him, it seemed.

The sensation of glasses seemed familiar but it made his chest feel hollow. He coughed, only half-heartedly covering his mouth.

He got a glimpse of Mark, once. Still just as youthful as ever, but he smelled of decay. Wilford didn’t see the District Attorney anywhere and tried not to think about what that could mean.

He stopped counting who was left.

At some point he stumbled into the Jims and Eric, crying in the hallway. Without a word he wrapped them up in his arms. Dark stood nearby, silently making eye contact with him, and Wilford knew they were all that were left.

He locked himself in his room, for a while. He didn’t know for how long, or really why, but when he looked in the mirror and saw nothing by gray with a faint gleam of pink, he coughed in his elbow and sighed.

He had always known he would go out with a bang, something violent. He didn’t know when that changed.

The door creaked open.

“...Wilford…?” A voice said quietly, and Wilford knew who it was before he looked up.

“Damien,” He sighed fondly, and smiled up at the man’s worried face.

Dark seemed startled at the sight of his friend- whether it was the gray or the glasses, he didn’t know.

“Willi-” Dark deflated. “Wilford,” He said instead, and his voice was soft and miserable. “I didn’t expect you to-” “To be so old?” Wilford finished wryly, gray mustache twitching, and the back of his throat tickled when he tried to chuckle. “Me neither.”

Dark looked like someone had punched him in the gut, and Wilford sighed, drinking in the sight of the still-youthful man. It seemed that Dark and Mark would be stuck alone together, fighting forever. Speaking of the villainous man, Wilford always thought Mark would kill him, not old age.

“I always thought my death would be more violent,” he admitted, and Dark made an injured sound.

“Death?” He repeated frantically, “Wilford, are you-” he choked, and Wilford took pity on the monochrome man.

“Not yet, old friend,” he said soothingly. “But soon.” Dark winced. “I have lived over a hundred years, you know, even if I can’t remember the exact number,” Wilford half-teased, half-reminded. Far longer than a normal man, he left unsaid.

Dark looked miserable, shoulders hunching, and Wilford suddenly realized that the demon had always taken Wilford’s lasting presence for granted, had never stopped to consider that Wilford was not like him.

“Wilford,” Dark croaked. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault that I’m not like you,” Wilford said, not unkindly. He kept his tone strong enough to get the point across, but also soft, because he wasn’t made at Damien, he would never be mad at Damien.

“Besides,” He continued, “Life needs a bit of madness, and if I lived forever I would start to find life boring. We couldn’t have that. I wouldn’t want that.”

Dark stared at him for a moment silently, taking the sight of his old friend in. Then he sighed, and seemed to give up some internal fight.

“What can I do for you,” He said without an asking tone, and Wilford’s eyes almost watered.

“Stay?” He asked, suddenly feeling as terribly alone as he had been up until that moment. “Just until I go?”

Dark trembled, then crossed the room far faster than Wilford could keep up with, faster than Wilford could have moved even in his prime, and wrapped his arms around Wilford tightly. Just when Wilford thought he wouldn’t be able to breathe, Dark loosened his hold.

“I can do that,” His voice cracked as Dark pressed his face into Wilford’s neck. “I can do that.”

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agentnico · 3 years

Text

Free Guy (2021) Review

“Don’t have a good day, have a great day!”

Plot: When a bank teller discovers he's actually a background player in a brutal open-world video game, he decides to become the hero of his own story - one that he can rewrite himself. In a world where there's no limits, he's determined to save the day his way before it's too late, and maybe find a little romance with the coder who conceived him.

Last time I watched such a hyper-actively positive film I was seeing little LEGO figures jumping about on screen with Morgan Freeman hanging off a string in ghost form. Yes, The LEGO Movie shares a lot in common with Free Guy, not just in its opening sequence where Ryan Reynolds’s loveable Guy is starting off a perfectly good day every day with a nice cup of coffee and wishing everyone not a good, but a great day, goes to the job at his bank and goes back home, and rinse and repeat. But the character of Guy himself is basically Chris Pratt’s Emmett from The LEGO Movie - full of sunshine and innocence and taking everything that comes with child-like excitement and energy. You can also treat Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy” song usage here like “Everything is Awesome” with how many times its played, but damn if it isn’t catchy! And the film comparisons don’t end there. You wouldn’t be faulted for seeing references to Ready Player One with all the cameos and Easter Eggs and pop culture references thrown in the mix, to The Truman Show based on the general concept and obviously certain video games such as Grand Theft Auto, Saints Row and even Sims due to the video game open world that the movie creates.

Speaking of the video game open world that is created, you could tell director Shawn Levy and the producers went through a lot of effort to research modern video games and all the tiny little details and quirks that exist. For example it was a lot of fun seeing characters tea-bag someone they just killed to then a character glitching out and jumping into the wall repetitively or the obvious inclusion of Fortnite inspired dance jiggles. You also get cameos from various real-life game streamers such as Jacksepticeye and DanTDM, and I found an interview on IGN where those guys spoke about in regards to how Hollywood can never seem to get video-game-to-film adaptations right, and how they appreciated that the producers of Free Guy went to them and asked questions and actually showed interest in wanting to create a realistic feeling video game in the movie and getting the terminology right. Evidently unlike other video game adaptations Free Guy manages to succeed from the fact that it doesn’t need to replicate a specific game from real life. There are nods to certain games as I aforementioned, but otherwise they’ve created their own entire game and as such there is no expectation to impress a certain individual fan base. So in conclusion what I’m saying is that I guess Hollywood should stop trying to adapt film versions of popular video game franchises and instead do their own original stuff maybe? Then again I do want to see that Ghost of Tsushima adaptation come to life, so yes, I’ll just go and kindly shut myself up.

Taking the video game matter aside for the time being, I found Free Guy to be an absolute delight from start to finish. Well, to be exact from 20 minutes from the start to finish. Honestly when the film began I was concerned if the movie was going to turn out to be the typical “I live in a simulation” story, and though as a basis it is exactly that, there’s so much goodness thrown into the mix with funny jokes to the cameos (the cameos are to die for!) to the visuals to the music choices to the performances - the movie is such a joy to watch. Speaking of the cameos and pop culture references, Free Guy is also an interesting film outside of its narrative. This movie was in production during the time the studio that was behind it - 20th Century Fox - was being sold to a certain little known company called Disney. As such, you can tell after the studio’s transfer to Disney was complete, this film underwent some additional reshoots and last minute changes, mainly in the finale because there are certain surprises at the end of the movie that will be a geek/nerd’s wet dream and were only made possible after Disney’s acquisition of 20th Century Fox, now known as 20th Century Studios. Personally I still have my qualms about Disney being the massive conglomerate business giant that is buying out all the other studios, but not going to lie even I got excited and jumped up like a kid in my cinema seat when a certain something happened at the end of this movie. Luckily only my lovely fiancée saw me like this as she was sitting next to me, and yes, I’m certain that me revealing my true nerd colours definitely lost me some attraction points from her, but nevertheless I don’t care, the Easter Eggs at the end of this movie are real fun!

The entire cast is top notch here. Ryan Reynolds does his usual shtick that he’s been doing ever since he found success with Deadpool, however naturally here he’s kept PG-13 and not swearing every other breath. That being said, his charm and sarcastic charisma really worked for the role of Guy, and he presented himself as really loveable and naïve and it was impossible not to like him in this film. Jodie Comer in her role has also been getting humongous praise from critics and reviewers alike, and yes, the rumours are true, she shares great on screen chemistry with Ryan Reynolds and also is proper cool and badass as to be expected. That being said I was told by a certain someone that they know someone who knows someone who knew someone who spoke to someone who said that they worked with Jodie Comer on the set of Killing Eve, and this was just some behind-the-scenes worker, and apparently in their experience they found Comer to be a real diva and challenge to work with. So that’s now me here spreading some gossip for no apparent reason besides causing a little stir and now I can move on. Joe Keery has a much bigger role in this film that the trailers made it seem, and I must say the lad has really been doing well for himself ever since his appearance in Stranger Things. Whenever I’ve see him in anything since such as Spree or Death to 2020 he’s always been wonderful to watch. Here in Free Guy he’s no different, getting to play a character who at first comes off as a villain but then is revealed to simply be a guy working for the wrong person. Speaking of that wrong person, the villain of the movie is played by none other than actor-director Taika Waititi himself, and his role is really interesting seeing as he plays the owner of this big video game business company who only cares about money and sequels over art, which I found quite ironic seeing as this movie is distributed by Disney that’s all about sequels, remakes and reboots. Just saying. Also found it funny how even though this movie marks a little reunion of sorts for Ryan Reynolds and Taika Waititi, they don’t share any scenes together which was probably for the best, as last time they worked together Green Lantern occurred. Anyway, Taika is as goofy and over-the-top as you expect him to be, and I can see him being very divisive. You’ll either find him hilarious or super annoying. However both opinions would work seeing as he’s the villain.

Free Guy is an absolute cuddly crowd-pleaser full of casual mayhem and crazy ideas, and is sure to be a welcome boost of fun in a summer that naturally lacked bigger blockbusters due to what’s happening in the world right now. However nonetheless, this and The Suicide Squad have really made a point that cinema is back, hopefully to stay.

Overall score: 9/10

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everyothermouse · 3 years

Text

A lil group portrait of the time au adventuring gang!! Them <333

Basically tol fucked up as a kid and is now on the run from the law, but realized that since his life was so crazy he could live off of telling stories of his wacky adventures. When he met Jay he wanted him to come with him, and when he found out jay couldn't come cus he was virtually a demon/god/magic magnet he decided he NEEDED to bring him to capitalize on how it'd make more cool stories. And yeah it worked so since then he's been collecting wackos to aaa go crazy aaaa go stupid (and also bcus safety I numbers or whateva, pop and pip are also criminals and pastel and jay are crimes against god <3) more about each individual under the cut!

Doin them from left to right :)

Pastel: died when she was messing around with some friends and got stuck under a big rock and left to starve. But because of a fluke in the underworld her God decided to resurrect her, a right usually only belonging to saints. Because of this she's now poorly pretending that she totally did something to deserve being revived (she tells a different story every time someone asks, she thinks it's funny) to avoid being persecuted for suspected witchcraft. She met Jay when they were both drunk and they had fun fucking around in the city, and she spilled the beans to him that she was revived for no reason. She regretted it, but jay didn't kill her because even though he's religious he knew what it felt like to be magically cursed and have everyone be pissed at u for it. Also she's really funny with jay so tol begged her to come with them to add more Comedy(tm) to his memoirs

Pop: a time traveller and angel who is trying to hide both of those facts but only really succeeding at hiding the time travel thing. When they were a kid they traveled to this time with his friends Lustre and Cherrybomb, but when they were attacked by the vicious royal guard they weren't able to escape without leaving Lustre behind. Cherrybomb super repressed that memory, and while pop recovered from some minor injuries they vowed to never time travel again. Yeah they only kept that up until they were like 15, but they still couldn't bring themself to go back to when they left Lustre. But now they're 26 (well technically they're like 33 but in their time their supposed to be 26) living with their boyfriend cherrybomb and have years of time travel experience under their belt, and they're ready to go back. Except they can't go back because they created a travel block for themself by accident because of how upsetting the event was, so instead they traveled as close as they could, about 10 years in the future of the time. Now they search for any form of closure, all they need to know is what happened to their friend, and they will do whatever it takes to find this out. But angels aren't super welcome in the past, especially not with uncut wings, so it's not exactly easy for them to navigate this time period. But after a while of their search they met two lovely children (well young adults), a demon and a "cursed" (nowadays they call em spiritually gifted) and felt so bad for how much the world seemed to be against them they decided they could travel with them, just for a bit, to protect them. They tried not to get attached. They failed. They're in it for the long run now aren't they TwT also as they explore this time and learn more about the gods, they start to realize that they might... be the God of longevity???? Or at least an older version of them became them? Time travel is fucked man

Btw Lustre plays a big role in this plot, her hyper futuristic knowledge, 'blessed' white eyes, and strange God gifted clothing would all lead to him rising to a much different role than fugitive rather quickly, but they're not who this post is about ;) also I'm gonna go bottom to top for the 3 in the middle let's go

Lune: just a little guy :) lune is a young rancher/gardener who worships the God of the wood, who kind of goes missing sometimes and is lowkey the least loyal God but shhhh he loves them. Lune and tol were childhood friends (along with their pal cleo) but on one of their little excursions tol took something very important to a very powerful king, and refused to give it back. As retribution the king destroyed their entire town, and cleo put all the blame on tol, tol and lune both knew lune had to take the side against tol in order to not have the town turn on him. So yeah he moved with the town to bring up a brand new farm, long awaiting the day when tol would come home and say that things were OK and they could settle back in town together, hopefully with cleo too. That didn't happen, but tol did come back and peer pressure lune into part time adventuring with him! So yeah generally lune just runs his lil farm and prays, but when tol comes to pick him up he gets a chance to go be free to act batshit crazy, just like when he was a kid 🥰

Pipes: DEmon! One time lune and tol had a little squabble so lune was like 'im gonna get a new best friend and ur gonna regret this' and tol was like 'yeah right, u live with a bunch of criminals right now no one's gonna wanna be ur bestie dumbass' so lune just walked into a cave at night and dragged out this little nonverbal demon because demons who live alone in caves don't have high standards for friends. Even tho it was just a ploy to make tol jealous lune went super hard on it and now pipes is actually friends with the gang lmaoo

Tol: like I said with lunes, stole something important from a king as a kid, monarch got pissed, blew up the town, town got pissed at tol for it, and since then he's been on the run because he's too stubborn to give back the damn thing (they could have just attacked HIM for it, but since la queen decided to fuck with his town, his family, tol thinks he doesn't deserve to have it back.) He had to run from town to town and got into a lot of danger in his attempts at finding places to hide, but he lacks fear and tended to fight stuff off. As a kid he found that he could get enough pity to be welcomed into towns if he told people he had to fight a monster to get there, so he told stories at every town and camp he went to of his hardships. But as he got older, those he stayed with beckoned him to keep talking, and more and more people said they had heard of his adventures. And that's when when it clicked, his shining ticket to true freedom wasn't a place, it was his stories. They gave him food, shelter, fun, memories, a life. So he made it his mission to never settle down, to make his life as crazy as possible and to talk about it as much as possible, and if he ever ran out of energy to adventure, he'd spend the rest of his dying days writing and writing his entire life story. He thought this was a life he'd live alone, but one day he sought refuge in jays little lonely house because he thought it was abonded, luckily though Jay had just been praying for a second chance at life and decided that considering the timing, tol must be that second chance. So yeah jay patched him up, found out on his monthly supply route he was harboring someone very wanted, and took care of tol even harder because he didn't know or care why he was wanted, he just knew that anyone who had a drawing of them as a child on a wanted poster definitely didn't deserve it. So yeah they're besties now.

AAA I wrote out a really long description for jay but tumblr glitched and I lost it :'O ble here's a shorter rewrite cus I'm not writing out that whole thing again >:P

Jay: brought up in a church village,, he was born with the curse, which allows him to tap into magical properties very easily, and be very easily controlled, manipulated, and possessed by them. This allowed him to be very connected with his god (the god of longevity) but also meant he was often treated as a security risk and a monster by the adults of his town since he could let in evil spirits so easily. He spent most of his time praying and he became obsessed with acting on compulsions (repeated prayer, overscrubbing, scratching himself, touching religious things until he felt like he touched them "right") because he believed they were messages from God and would prevent him from becoming evil (look he was a teenager and everyone told him he was a monster his whole life leave him be.) He gets possessed twice, mage as a rep of the town is like "either have ur cursed removed or leave town forever" (uncursing is only hypothetically possible, it's hella dangerous) and he's scared itd sever his connection to his god so he leaves and he's upset bcus his entire life plan was built around his church, so now he's livin alone on a hill and leaving like once a month, he stays up there and sews and prays mostly, he sort of works on himself and becomes vaguely mentally stable, so he prays for a second chance at life since he lost his original path and needs a sign where to go, and then boom tol shows up and the rest is history. Now he has his own little family and things are going great :) other than the still getting possessed like once a week but shhhh

Pip: in between the entrance to hell and the religious central of the continent is a little town that sides with neither. They mostly fuck around and find out, and in this town lives a monster researcher and her less formal wife, pip! Pip is just a silly goofy little guy livin life, and when the crazy bunch shows up she feels like he's finally found her people :3 and for the first time the group gains a member who's begging to join them as opposed to the other way around

Ya and together they all go on wacky lil adventures with demons and monsters and monarchs and what not.

Tldr pastel is a funny lil dead guy, pop is a time traveller and the Adult of the team, lunes a lil farmer man, pipes a hobo demon they picked up off the side of the road, tols a little criminal demon adventurer, jays a religious weirdo who tol dragged out of his hermit hut, and pips an insane little guy

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valkblue · 3 years

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— masterlist, tumblr post masterlist

Chapter 33 on 70

Chapter wordcount: 2.2k Rating: Mature Warning: SPECIAL POV of a character we all hate, so expect some form of trolling and nasty comments from him. Also, swearing, of course.

Author’s notes: Be ready for more POV switches after this one. And I'm really excited for the next to come!!! But this one is the first of them. And it's one from This Fuckin Guy POV...

Ask box always open! I really want to know what you think about this story!

— Chapter 33

His horse would hold on, William was sure. At least long enough for what use he would have of it. No need to trade it for another. Not yet. Its wounds would bleed for as long as they wouldn’t be closed but it wouldn’t loose as much blood as a human host. Maybe hairs were holding scabs together better than skin…

For now, his valiant nag had eaten the crappy hay it had been given, absorbed a full bucket of water and would get some well-deserved rest, neck and ears lows. Now or later, William didn’t really want his mount to collapse under his ass. So, it might as well get its belly full as long as it could then sleep on it!

He didn’t really feel like lowering his guard himself, like he had done the previous night. It had been a mistake! But after more than three days without a real night of sleep, finally fed and sheltered, he hadn’t even felt himself dozing off.

A mistake, really…

And since it was a mistake he didn’t want to repeat until reaching his final objective, he was keeping himself busy. He had first groomed his horse, and that had taken him quite a while, then he had found himself something to eat, had taken a few minutes to breathe and relax his still painful shoulder, and he would now have to change the bandage on his leg and his arm, and wash the cut on his cheek. No way he’d let a flesh wound slow him down so close to his goal.

And for that, he looked for Lawrence, wherever he could be at the moment. William suspected that he’d find him with that little Behavior bitch. He shuddered as he thought back to that… that scene she had made in the farm.

Who the fuck did she think she was?!

Despite the anger and fear she had caused him — he hated to admit it — William found himself cracking a broad smile. He stifled a mocking burst of laugher as he kept going through the alleys formed by the block of buildings behind the awning.

The houses were on that side; William didn’t really know where they were going to be cooped up for the night but if it was with the locals, it’d be on that side. And that would also probably be where he would find Lawrence, showing that girl around…

Honestly, William would see no issue in leaving with other hosts to go finish the bucket list of his last tailored story. The issue — because there was one — was that after what Ford had done to their code before leaving in grand style, all the hosts seemed to be glitching.

Not all in the same way, but 'glitching' all the same…

And leaving with a crew of broken, absolutely untrustworthy hosts was an issue to William. Lawrence, on the other hand, looked like he still had his feet in his stirrups… even after the sort of episode his revelations had triggered.

It was bothering him to think that he might owe it to that code this girl had crammed in his head. But, no matter her pathetic reasons to do that, it was still working for William… If he had to leave with someone to hunt for Dolores, he’d put his money on Lawrence.

What was also nagging at him a little, were questions such as why Ford would let this girl pull this off, given what he was planning to do himself on the night of the gala and what did that old nutcase know of the code? Because he had to know — there was no doubt about it. What he doubted however, was that this girl could have anything to do with it. But what the hell was she doing in the park when the rules flipped? was another question adding itself to the pile, even if he had a few theories about that one.

Ultimately, William didn’t care too much about it remaining a mystery. At this point, he’d had his share of mysteries… But since Ford had made of Wyatt and Dolores one and the same character for this narrative fitting his hopes and expectations, then he’d know how to play this game. He had been waiting for this for thirty years!

Now, he’d catch up with Dolores, and would be done once and for all with this place. And everything it cost him. No matter the outcome… Death, ruin, victory — no fuck given.

An old woman sitting on a chair was shelling already empty pea pods in an already full plate, and William simply walked past her with a curious glance. He had never understood why some of the hosts were reacting a certain way to the errors in their code, and others in a different way… Like what had happened with Dolores, and that, still not so long ago. The thought made him grit his teeth and his fingers on his right shoulder, barely back into place. He’d been lucky she didn’t break his collarbone in their little Danse Macabre, the other day.

And his luck didn’t seem to have ran out yet as he heard a voice he easily recognized in the courtyard in front of him, behind the white sheets hanging from the strings tied to the houses’ roofs. It was Lawrence’s voice. And what puzzled William, making him slow down, was that he didn’t seem to be talking to his tech. Or if he was, she didn’t seem to have anything pertinent to say…

"Please…" William heard Lawrence beg. "Say something else!"

Behind the sheets flapping slowly on their ropes, he heard vague syllables in a woman’s voice… He moved so as to see without being seen from behind the sheets. Lawrence was talking to that host he’d been stuck with as a wife when they changed his narrative; she had a tense smile, and put her hands on his arms, saying something so low that William barely heard any of it.

"No!" Lawrence evaded her touch to hold her wrists, then her hands without forcing her. "I… I don’t wanna sit down, or drink somethin’! Why do you keep sayin’ that each time I…"

He stopped with a slow sigh. In fact, he wasn’t only nervous, William even found that he sounded flat-out frustrated.

Come on, he wasn’t going to laugh at him! He could get behind that; he too had the feeling of talking to a recording with some people at the office.

"I know you can’t remember, and that I have to be indulgent but… it ain’t so hard a question!"

In front of him, his "wife" looked like she was listening anyway, despite her still confused and tensed face.

"I’m askin’ you again. What do you want?"

She bobbed her head, negative, a muttered a sound or two. When the wind made the sheets flap higher, she seemed to spot William and turned her head to him, almost like she was begging for his help. He could’ve almost laughed! Lawrence turned too and let go of his wife’s hands when William walked up to them.

"The fuck do you want?" he spat at him.

"You’re repeating yourself, Lawrence."

Then, he reworded, a hand drawing closer to the colt at his belt :

"What are you doin’ here?"

The woman clung on Lawrence’s arm when William answered:

"I was looking for the place they they prepared us for the night."

"On the other side."

Lawrence didn’t give him any more direction other than a wave of his chin towards the next backstreet. Then, he told his wife go inside the house with a simple word; she stroke his arm and disappeared behind the door.

"Experiencing some family drama, Lawrence?" he then dead-panned.

And against all odds, William received no sarcasm, no snark… In fact, it even disappointed him a little. Lawrence furrowed his brows and mumbled an answer:

"I… I try talkin’ to her but… she… she doesn’t understand."

"Mmh," William muttered. "And what is it she doesn’t understand?"

He didn’t really give a shit… he was only curious.

"I tried explainin’ her why I won’t stay but, it’s like she ain’t hearin’ me…"

The opportunity to add to that all while getting his way was too good to miss.

"You’re planning to leave your shelter, then? To abandon wife and child…"

Lawrence glared at him, almost disgusted.

"You know very well what they really are."

"What you all are," William corrected.

Faced with his glower, he insisted:

"And where d’you think you’d go? Why leaving Pariah to come all the way here… and not stay?"

Lawrence clenched his jaw. But William could guess without issue that his little tech and him had daydreamed about eloping from the park.

"Also, you won’t be able to go anywhere as long as what’s happening out there isn’t over," he then added, as Lawrence wasn’t saying anything. "That’s why I need your help."

There was no real link between the two — stopping Dolores would still not allow him to get out of here. William was just trying to mess with his head to coax him into accepting.

"I need you to come with me stop Dolores! She’s the one leading Wyatt’s crew and she’s gonna come back here to finish off all the newcomers still in the park…"

Or at least, that’s what he had understood, that this was the task Ford had coded her, according to what he had seen… and what Angela had preached to Teddy. William groaned, frustrated not to remember her exact words.

He believed in Ford’s skill for premeditation, and that he had sowed a whole bunch of clues since the beginning of this new Wyatt narrative. Why else would he have come to face him in Rattlecreek, the other night?

"And can you imagine what she’ll do to your girlfriend, someone who’s working here?"

It was almost funny to see Lawrence shiver, and clutch his hand on the leather of his gunbelt. Then, William laid it on thick:

"You came across their victims on your way here, I’m sure. I saw the trap you escaped when I found you."

Lawrence held his gaze, still without a word.

"This is finally the game I’ve been hoping for all those years," William then went on, emboldened by his silence — he knew how Lawrence worked, and he knew that it meant he was taking what he had just said into account. "Each decision, each action matters now…"

"If this is a game for you, it ain’t for me," Lawrence then retorted, angered.

"Of course it is!"

At those words, Lawrence furrowed his brows, and William continued:

"It’s never been anything but a game! And if you had the opportunity to get out of this park, you’d realize that, out there, it’s not that different… You’ll be trading one hellhole for another."

Lawrence remained silent. William knew that what he still had to say would finally make him react.

"But we’re in this one for now, and if whatever you're feeling for that girl is… is real, you know you’re gonna have to get rid of her somewhere safe, don’t you?"

A wince and a silent word, muttered, and William knew he had all his attention.

"I can’t figure why but… she likes you enough to endanger herself over you," he stated. "And she will die because of you."

Lawrence winced but didn’t answer.

"Because that’s what it does to people to love men like us…"

"Men like us?" Lawrence noted as he raised his eyes on him.

"You and I aren’t good with family and loved ones," William explained, darkly. "They end up dead…"

His words seemed to struck a chord in Lawrence who chew on a few words he didn’t voice.

"The simpler would be to leave her here, tomorrow morning. She knows the town’s accesses, and response teams will certainly come sooner than later to recover the others guests who got lost here. She’ll be safe in the Mesa, with her own kind…"

Since Lawrence was still not saying anything and William was starting to get bored with this little mindgame, he provoked him:

"Apparently, you can finally make your own choices, Lawrence! Real ones, meaningful ones… Don’t you want to save her?"

Still no words.

"The girl will probably hate your guts!" William then laughed. "But at least, she’ll be alive to hold that against you…"

He didn’t even try to contain his large smile. For now, he wouldn’t add anything else; he would let that seep through his thick skull. At first, he had come to claim some plasters and bandages and, unless he’d attempt a visit to the healer later on, he would still need them. If not now, at least for future injuries.

Tag list: @hathorik , @pheedraws , @something-tofightfor , @the-blind-assassin-12 ...

#westworld #westworld fanfic #westworld fic #SPECIAL POV #MIB POV #man in black #oh no...!!!#but still #ocs #oc:vivian #ch:lawrence #oc:jo #my writing #fic:journey into night #full diagnostic series

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fuzziemutt · 3 years

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Do You Understand ?

Chapter 4/9 - Link to MasterList in reblog

Summary: Okay maybe not telling anyone anything wasn’t such as a good idea... Especially your dad the guy who’s job is to investigate things...

Tw: dissociation caused by trauma response.

The signing process didn’t last long. The landlord was fairly straight to the point, and she couldn’t know that he had already finished reading the pages set in front of him before her explaining what the rules were and what needed to be signed. She didn’t seem to comment on Connor’s lack of emotional responses to things or how his face appeared to be stuck in perpetual angry limbo. In fact, she seemed to be more understanding than any of his “friends” were and not taking offense when his attention wandered elsewhere when she droned a bit about policies he already knew. She even smiled at him at one point and it was weird to Connor how he just realized how rarely anyone smiled (most from Nines) so genuinely at him without hidden intentions.

Afterwards, he retrieved the keys from her and hiked up the singular bag to head upstairs to the 4th floor for his room. He caught a sadness and sympathy in her eyes that he really wasn’t sure where it was coming from. Was she humanizing him? Makes sense with this beanie hiding his LED, but he still couldn’t decipher what she was assuming about him. He pushed it from his mind as he unlocked the door and walked in, locking it behind.

He wasn’t sure what he expected. It was very barren, desolate with all the lights shut off like this. The sun was already starting to set and began casting long shadows inside. He didn’t mind since he could just see in the dark, but it felt lonely like this. He turned on the main living room light at the least since the apartment was open planned with only a small island wall separating the kitchen. Two doors on the far end were assumed to be the bedroom and bathroom. On the right were fairly large windows to let light in in the morning and there was even a slim door that led out to a small patio with railing of sorts that might be able to house a plant or two at most. There were even two storage closets near the door and near the kitchen, that one actually contained a washer and dryer duo unit now that he thinks about it. He knew he knew the actual layout of this place with no problem, but he just didn’t care. It didn’t matter much to him really. As an android, he really didn’t need much to work with, just his charging port that he packed with him if he was honest. Or at least he’d make sure that was all he needed.

Trying one of the further doors, he found the bathroom, bare minimum with tub, toilet, sink and small wall mirror. The bathroom was also connected to the room through their shared wall so he just used that door to go into the bedroom. It was big enough to hold maybe a standard bed and small dresser at most but again that didn’t bother him. The wall had one of those in built closets like Hank had and it somehow flares the pain that had settled low in his abdominal cavity and refused to leave. It didn’t matter because he was doing this to protect himself and make everything easier for everyone else. This was to make it far easier to separate himself from everyone. To hide. So he plopped his bag down and set about unpacking his very pathetic amount of items. Tomorrow he’ll deal with furniture truly; he’ll most likely just order it online and figure out pick up/delivery then too.

He relaxed a bit against one of the walls when his internal phone started ringing again. Hank. Shit.

“Hello, Lieutenant.”

“Hey, Connor.” Oh that didn’t sound good. He had that stern voice put on, like a dad about to lecture his kid.

“What can I offer you with this call,” Connor really wasn’t sure where to go with this.

“So I called Markus when I got home.”

“Mhm.” The alarm bells in Connor’s head went off. He knew relying so heavily on miscommunication would backfire. Idiot.

“And asked him about that little meeting you supposedly had today to ask if it would be alright if I came by to pick you up so you weren’t going home alone. Since you told me about that little worry of yours earlier.”

“Yes.” Connor felt the panic start to rise inside him a bit, his voice kept leveled and his face calm, but internally? Freaking out.

“Where are you, Connor?” and there it was. He was fucked. Okay lying would be the stupid thing to do right now.

“I’m at New Jericho, I’m not sure what you’re asking?” Connor auto replied. He needs to do a diagnostic on that top notch Social Relation Protocol.

“Oh really,” Hank’s voice turned low, “Don’t fucking lie to me right now unless you want to dig your grave deeper, Connor.”

Connor stayed silent worried his auto replies might do just that.

“Hmm well Markus also told me an interesting tidbit. Apparently yesterday you blew up on everyone and fucked off. Heavy topics and no big deal, my ass!” Connor could tell that Hank was getting riled up.

“Where. Are. You. Connor,” Hank said with much more aggression after Connor continued to stay silent.

Connor really didn’t know what to say. Hank was bound to find out he so unceremoniously moved out, he wasn’t sure why he was even hesitating right now to tell him that.

“I noticed this morning that your clothes were missing from the bathroom, and I found it odd, but I just assumed you moved them. Yet when I got back home and actually started looking, I noticed that it seems all your stuff is gone! Even the fucking manta ray plushie is gone!”

Connor really didn’t know why he thought Hank wouldn’t notice this quickly especially since he was already suspicious of Connor since this morning too. He took a deep breath to prepare himself for what was about to happen.

“WHERE-”

“I’m in my apartment,” rushed out of Connor in one synthetic breath.

Hank didn’t answer for a couple seconds. “Your apartment…”

“Yes.”

“When the fuck have you had an apartment? In fact, how do-”

“Just last night.” Connor focused on just trying to keep calm. He could do this. He was an interrogator. Just treat this as an interrogation.

“Last night… and when did you think you’d tell me about this?! Did you think you could just book it with your shit, and I wouldn't notice!” Hank could be loud when he wanted to be. And honestly, Connor did think he wouldn’t care enough to notice for at least a day or two. It’s not like Connor owned that many items in the first place to notice gone as proven by the sad bag slumped next to him on the floor.

“I knew you would notice, but I was uncertain on how to approach the topic. I thought I would have more time to tell you, but I assumed wrong.”

“Damn right you assumed wrong! How could you not understand-”

Connor didn’t even register whatever was said next. He heard that accursed word and felt himself shut down. The panic receded just as quickly as the tsunami of that same anger from yesterday overwhelmed him in seconds.

“Don’t say that word,” He didn’t even notice he murmured anything from the haze surrounding him until Hank went silent and asked a far quieter “what?” than his prior volume.

“Don’t say that fucking word,” Connor stated far louder. He distantly felt how tense his whole body seemed to have become, fists trembling and he wouldn’t doubt his LED was burning bright red under the beanie he still had yet to remove.

“I don’t understand. What word?” Hank asked, confusion clear in his voice. There also seemed to be a bit of concern that Connor’s system registered, but he ignored that as that was impossible.

Connor couldn’t handle it, the feelings inside were too much, and he didn’t want a repeat of yesterday. He could control himself. Cyberlife drilled into his head how he had to stay calm and in control at all times. He can’t fail this simple rule.

So he simply shut everything down. He quickly quarantined everything. He immediately cut his call with Hank as it was his source of stress. He needed everything to shut down. To not think. Hank kept trying to call him back, to get some sort of answer, but it was too late. Connor disconnected from everything and felt himself float off. This was much nicer, just not aware of anything. That anger and panic was all gone. The guilt too. He was just existing, his body’s eyes stared unblinking, unmoving at the wall ahead. Sure it was dangerous how he wasn’t able to register anything nor had any clue where he was anymore, but it was quiet.

Eventually, he slowly returned to his body. Became aware of the twitching of his fingers, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the sounds of cars passing outside below him. He blinked and came back into himself looking around and noticing it was far darker than before. Checking his internal clock showed that he lost 2 hours to whatever that was. He couldn’t help the annoyance he felt from apparently having another malfunction happening to him. The anger and emptiness from yesterday weren’t necessarily a malfunction, but he shouldn’t be able to lose control of himself like that (thus he was malfunctioning). He lost control of himself in a different manner here and still felt himself almost floating even now. Checking his notifications revealed countless number of missed calls from Hank, Nines, Mark, even North and numerous texts and internal messages, but he just ignored them again. He clearly needed to cut himself off from them all. They were causing him to glitch and fail like this by overwhelming him beyond his control. He can’t let that happen.

After some shuffling, he managed to set up his charging port, plugged himself in and set himself into stasis.

#i write #dbh #detroit: become human #connor rk800 #hank anderson

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dreamcatcherjiah · 4 years

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🌆 Nodus Tollens (Idol!Jin x YouTuber!reader)

Nodus Tollens Masterlist

Part 12

Plot: n. the realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore—that although you thought you were following the arc of the story, you keep finding yourself immersed in passages you don’t understand, that don’t even seem to belong in the same genre—which requires you to go back and reread the chapters you had originally skimmed to get to the good parts, only to learn that all along you were supposed to choose your own adventure.

After such a tiring day, you were really wondering if you were stretching yourself past your limits. Helping your parents at the restaurant had always been your priority, and you would rather quit everything else before leaving them busy and without your help. But days like this really made you question your life choices.

Waking up from a restless sleep so early in the morning to shower and go to class wasn’t your particular cup of tea, but regardless of how tired you felt, you powered on and got ready. Needing something to keep you awake for your morning lessons, you groaned aloud when you realised your tea tin was empty. Your mental notes — buy tea, immediately, you don’t want to repeat the disastrous events of May 6th, 2018 — weren’t working either, it seemed. Your little tin mocked you endlessly, staring back at you from your reflection in its shining bottom. Sigh. Lifting your head, you shifted your eyes to the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet, where that forgotten packet of instant coffee had been forgotten for nearly as long as you’d lived in that flat. No, you wouldn’t budge. Not even how tired you were would force you to drink that dark and bitter beverage, not for all the money in the world.

Flash forward to twenty minutes later, and you find yourself in the public bus, with your thermo in hand, filled to the brim with coffee that you obviously hadn’t touched. The universe literally wasn’t in your favour today. Forcing your to drink coffee, the nerve. But it wasn’t so much the coffee, as you looking at your phone to see a text from your mom, asking you to cover for her at lunchtime so she could go to her doctor’s appointment. You were tempted to tell her the truth; that your lessons would finish at half-past two PM, and you were scheduled to meet with Seokjin and Namjoon at three to write the hook of the song you were working on, and two hours later, you had to be back at campus to discuss some aspects of your thesis with your tutor, or else you risked to lag behind and not finish in time. All of this without saying that you obviously needed to finish the cover for Moon that you had promised Jin you would do, and upload another one to your channel taking into account you hadn’t done so in a week.

Looking out of the window at the moving cars and the busy people, you wondered what your mom would say if you said no. Probably that she understood and that your dad would manage on his own. Not likely. So you wrote back and told her you would be there at two, providing that you left your last lesson a bit before it was over. Then you texted both Namjoon and Seokjin to see if it would be possible to pass the meeting to the late evening after your meeting with your professor, hopefully giving you time to at least upload your cover. Or maybe you would just take your laptop and upload said cover in the restaurant and that would give you time to work in Moon for a while after you got home.

You arrived on campus and, after getting the green light from both idols, you set about finishing your day as fast as you could. The clock, however wasn’t agreeing with you. The minutes dragged on, and contrary to your normal behaviour, you found yourself nodding off and not focusing in what your professors were saying at all. Your mind kept going back and forth, going over all the things you had to do, fighting sleep because, let’s face it, you hadn’t touched that damned brew and were in the middle of a mental rant, berating yourself for such a petty and stupid behaviour. Caffeine was caffeine, whatever form it came, and right about now you needed it as you needed oxygen. One of those times you nodded off was a bit longer and deeper than the previous times; you were aware that you were in the middle of a lesson, but your clouded mind travelled far, far away, to a reality your mind recognised but you didn’t.

You were in some park, in front of a large, bright lake. The vision of the water kept glitching in front of your eyes and you tried to blink it away, to no avail. There were many voices surrounding you, joining together to create a cacophony you couldn’t decipher. Light was brightly blinding you and you were just in some sort of limbo, being there and not there at the same time. The shadows of the people whose voices you were hearing kept coming in and out of your vision, like some rewinding VHS movie, confusing you beyond measure but still giving you a sense of nostalgia you couldn’t place. What a strange dream you were having! One of the voices kept coming closer and closer; you could also see their body getting close to yours in their reflection in the lake, and you felt at peace. The deep tones of this person’s sentence were reaching you clearer the closer they got, and you managed to hear some of those words through the calming haze that was your dream. “This was the perfect location, Y/N. The kids are definitely enjoying themselves!” Kids? — you thought, at the same time love filled your every pore.

“Miss Y/N? I would appreciate it if you kept your eyes open during this lecture,” came the voice of the lecturer, and it effectively took you out of your mind. Your cheeks reddening at being caught and being the centre of attention, you nodded your head, keeping your eyes forcibly open for the next hour and a half.

The turn at the restaurant was everything but eventful. The typical kid throwing juice all over the table, insisting that he could feed himself, when his little arms didn’t even reach past the fork. This normally would have made you sigh in frustration, but something made you look at him smiling and wave your hand at his apologising parents, not frustrated at all. Your video was also coming along nicely, a bit slower than you would have liked but by the looks of it, it would be done by the time you had to leave for your appointment at campus.

After swallowing down a bit of apple pie your mom made, you tidied the tables and helped your dad with the last orders before you picked up your things and went running back to university. Thank the universe this wasn’t the same teacher who had caught you that morning sleeping, because that would have been an awkward conversation to have. Your phone vibrated in your pocket half through the discussion with your tutor, but you opted to ignore it. You would have time later to check it and give the appropriate answer. Not wanting to be rude, you focused all your attention in what your professor was saying and noting down all the reference books he was listing for you to make your research a bit more exhaustive. How much more exhaustive can it get, for the love of pizza? — you thought. Apparently, quite. You left his office with your notebook filled with names and dates, and many more books than you could carry, on your way to your appointment at BigHit.

It was only 4 PM and you were feeling like your day would never finish. The buses were packed today, and traffic near Gangnam was a nightmare. You had plenty of time before you had to be up in Rkyve studio to do some songwriting, but still, you worried. Out of the three of you, eight if you extended it to the rest of BTS, you were the less busy one; their schedules were a nightmare to work with — Seokjin’s words, not yours — and most of the time they just squeezed you in between practise and some photoshoot or another. So it was completely understandable for you to worry that you were making it even more difficult for them.

Once you walked all the way to the BigHit building, you were just dragging your feet, tired beyond measure and wanting desperately a place to sit down. You entered the building and entered the code Manager Sejin had given you for when you needed to enter BigHit without one of the members or a manager at least. You waited patiently for the elevator to arrive all the way to the first floor and got it, expecting it to be packed and finding it empty. At least something today was going your way, you had the whole ride to yourself. You smirked and thought how ironic it was; if you didn’t count your dad and your professor, you could count on the fingers of one hand how many more people had interacted with you today.

A sudden sickening feeling got ahold of you, and you stumbled forward, holding onto the railing to keep yourself upright. Your vision blurred again, and you tiredly thought how this was the second time in a day where you lost control of your own body.

You were inside the same elevator, or a very similar one and a happy feeling enveloped you, while you looked down. At your feet, holding your leg, was a little child, jumping up and down, making you somewhat unstable on your feet.

“Calm down, love,” your voice said, but you didn’t remember opening your mouth, “you’ll work yourself into a frenzy and will be tired tonight!”

“Faster! Faster!” Shouted the child, “I wanna see daddy, come on elevator!”

Taking a deep breath you realised the doors of the elevator were opening onto the floor where the reception desk was situated. Shaking your head, you tried to calm your heart, erratic after such a daydream, and moved forward, filing that information for a later inspection.

Approaching the desk, you nodded towards the man and the woman you had come to familiarise yourself over the weeks. And just when you were about to turn the corner into the studios, they called you over.

“Miss Y/N, did you not receive the texts Mr. Namjoon sent you?�� Asked the woman.

Frowning, you buried your hand in your bag and fished out your phone, which you hadn’t checked since earlier on in the day. And there it was the text they were referring to.

So this was how your day had been. After apologising to the receptionists, you had descended again and called a taxi to take you home. You had finished the cover and sent it to Jin, closed all the blinds and laid in your bed, hoping sleep to claim you even though it was still early. Hoping for calmer, and less weird days to come for you, you closed your eyes and finally relaxed.

A/N: Surprise surprise!! With all the schoolwork I've been buried under, it's a miracle I was able to post this today!! but here you have it!! What do you guys think? Let's chat♥️♥️♥️

Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list 🥺

@zxlla @mabel-k3 @twiwwo @crystxljinie @atulipandarose @rjsmochii @expensive-grl @itsjynop @agustdez @salty-for-suga @io-is-lame @hot-tae-with-suga @minluvly

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muteashes · 4 years

Text

Adverse Events

Also posted on AO3! A Dune AU

It’s when they are hauling in the last of the spice pirates that everything goes down stream.

“You’re not going to like the consequences of your actions,” the pirate captain hissed as he was drug toward the brig.

“I think that went pretty well,” Kix hauled the door closed.

Like a rolling wave the whole ship rocked.

Jesse dropped his kit and swore when the klaxons went off. “Why’d you have to say that?”

“The nav systems are completely fried,” Jesse confirmed. “We can’t run around with the nav droids. As far as I can tell, unless the rest of GAR manages to track us, if they even know they need to track us down, I think we’re screwed,” He smacked the systems terminal. The angry little red light kept flashing at them. “Sir,” he added belatedly.

At least the hyperdrives are still working, Rex reminded himself. Though without a nav computer, any jump would kill them.

Some di’kut pirate had set off a experimental EMP taking out the entire pirate fleet and the GAR cruiser. Half the AIs had shut down and the others were so glitched they couldn’t safely be run.

“No word yet on comms either,” Jesse added. Rex already knew that, but the it seemed to force a point. Five days and no change, Rex was starting to think they would never get out of there. Well, there was one way that Rex could think of. He didn’t like the idea of it, but he didn’t like the idea of being permanently stranded either. Every day without signal from the fleet and it was less chance of being found.

“No,” Kix ground out. He must have been able to read Rex. Yesterday one of the newer clone troopers had brought up alternative uses of spice. At everything they could find, the the shiney maybe right. The obscure history of spice was that it originally came from a desert planet in the far outer rim. A now extinct race that used it to travel the hyper lanes before they had navigational systems.

“It’s our chance to get out of here,” Rex waved at the view. The far outer rim was wide and beautiful, but also empty for light years.

“There hasn’t been any successful studies that went into it,” Kix argued. “It’s speculated you have to take ten times the amount normally used recreationally and near consistently to get that sort of effect. You’re more likely to overdose.”

“That’s exactly why I have to be the one that does it.”

“Jesse!” Kix hissed, tagging the other in.

“This is bantha poodoo, sir,” Jesse supplied.

“Noted,” Rex huffed a laugh.

“It could kill you,” Kix tried again later as helped one of the natborn doctors set up the exam table. The spice had been transformed into a gas, one of the techs managed to shove it into several portable inhalers.

“I agree with Kix,” the Doctor Bridges said, “spice is addictive. Even this one episode, especially with the dosage, and you may start symptoms of withdrawal within hours.”

“I don’t think we have a choice.”

“You better not be leaving me in charge of this mess,” Jesse warned from where he had followed them into the med center.

“It’s going to be fine, Kix,” Rex grabbed the medic’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. Sometimes a brother just needed assurance. Even if it was a lie.

Kix shuddered, swearing under his breath, he shoved the inhaler at Rex.

“Start breathing slow, Captain. And- We’ll see, I guess.”

With the first inhale, everything seemed to sharpen. With the second, he could see it. Almost. On the corners of his vision, just barely trailing out of sight. Long streams of gold paths that flowed across space. He could touch it, he thought hazily. And figure out where it goes.

“How are you feeling, Captain?” Rex startled and looked over at Kix. He had forgotten he was there.

“Fine,” Rex tried, not really sure, “Just fine, I think.”

“At least your not going into cardiac arrest,” Doctor Bridges commented.

Kix held the scanner up as if to double check. A sharp pain in Rex’s arm when Kix stabbed him with a random syringe, Rex blinked slowly. “And you are high enough to orbit a moon right now,” Kix added. “But you’re stable.”

On the other side of the room Jesse had propped himself against a table, arms crossed and scowling.

“This is karking insane,” Jango Fett snarled. Rex blinked and it was Jesse again.

“This is karking insane,” Jesse snarled.

“Frak,” Rex breathed. Kix stopped and stared at him, alarmed. “I’m fine,” Rex repeated. More unsure, but nothing could be done about it now. He waved a heavy arm at him, shoving Kix off when he tried to intervene as he slid off the bed. Taking unsteady steps toward the bridge, knowing his vode would follow. He could hear them arguing quietly behind him. Somewhere else he could hear hundreds of his brothers whispering. Rex shook his head. Focus, focus, focus. The lines he thought, focus on the paths that led… somewhere. Maybe.

As the seconds passed, the trails that peeked from his peripheral had become brighter.

“I can do this,” Rex said. And he knew he could, every part of him seemed to scream. The golden paths danced ahead as he entered the bridge. They had left the command chair empty and he gratefully dropped into it. Yanked up the ships yoke into place.

“I can do this,” Rex repeated, louder. The fog starting to shift again, as though what he could see was suddenly decipherable. The shining trails so obvious

“Karking- kark. Frak this, sir,” Jesse bit out. “This is going to go so bad.”

“Relax, LT,” Rex was grinning now. Giddy excitement starting to rush through his veins. There it is, he breathed out slowly. Focus, focus. He was definitely high right now.

The hyperdrive engines softly purred as Rex shifted them on.

“Just follow it home,” the ghost of Fives sang softly.

“Everyone should probably grab a seat,” He announced when it occurred to him. Jesse swore again, dropping into a observational chair. Ahead of them the gold seem to call to him. The brothers beyond marched endlessly. He could feel it all. “This will be fun.” Rex could’t stop himself from laughing.

“Never again,” Jesse twisted out of the restraints. One of deck officers had fallen into the data pits, Kix leaned over to drag him back up.

“Where are we?” Kix looked at the flashing nav computer that still flashed a frag screen.

“Where we should be,” Rex told them. He had thought home and he had come here. The gold strands were starting to become distant again, no longer needed. Rex peered up to see where they hand landed.

“Look behind the moon,” one of deck officers brought up the visual. Just barely through the belt debris Rex could make out a venator class frigate breaching the moon’s horizon. “I think it’s Nova Corp.”

“Home,” a distant brother sighed.

#captain rex #kix #jesse #dune au

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starscheme · 5 years

Text

With All My Heart

Chapter Seventeen: I’m Scared

Steven started by speaking with the Rutile twins. Asking them if they had seen anything troubling as of late, anything that at all that might have startled them. The left twin seemed apprehensive to say anything, but the right pulled Steven to a more isolated area behind the bug Donut.

“The truth is it started yesterday. We started having these horrible…sort of…visions. It’s like stuff just appears or we’re living in a bad memory.” The right rutile twin explained. “It just started for us, but Rhodonite has been seeing things for days now. It’s as if…our fears have been doubled for no reason.”

Steven listened quietly, slowly connecting the dots. Rutile said this started days ago and for the last several days, everyone’s emotions had been a little worse for wear. Well, everyone’s but Amethyst. Though she did tend to keep things bottled when she was upset, so he couldn’t be entirely sure.

“Can you tell me exactly what you’ve been seeing,” asked Steven.

“…Other Rutiles, the ones that ran away from us when we emerged. Except… they don’t run away this time. They all start to grab at us…and start…” the right twins voice trailed off and she glanced away, clearly uncomfortable remembering it.

“I see,” began Steven, indicating that she didn’t have to explain further. “I think something might be causing this. So whatever is affecting you and Rhodonite, it might be the same thing. I’m going to look into it and see if I can find out what’s going on. Do you think you’ll be okay for now?”

The twins smiled at Steven. “We have each other. It helps. Rhodonite is a fusion, though she seems pretty fragile, her love keeps her going. I’m sure we will be okay.”

That was true; Rhodonite and Rutile weren’t alone in this. Hopefully that would keep this from going too far. However, if something was causing these visions and elevating their fears, it could be pretty dangerous. After all, if that’s what affected Spinel, it nearly shattered her using her own fears against her. Was his nightmare last night a part of this too? Maybe when Pearl located Garnet, he could ask her about it. Garnet always knew what to do. After speaking with Rutile, he left to find Spinel and was alarmed when he found Rhodonite was alone. Wasn’t Spinel helping her?

“Where’s Spinel,” Steven asked.

For some reason, seeing Steven alarmed the fusion. “Huh? Um—but she ran after you,” answered Rhodonite. “I mean, she called your name and ran off that way,” she finished as she pointed towards the beach.

Did Spinel see something? Why did she see him? Thanking Rhodonite, Steven ran off to find Spinel. Something was definitely going on and it was nothing good. He didn’t think much of it before, but now he worried that Spinel’s first nightmare had been the start of this for her. He ran along the shore, trying to find any trace of the pigtailed Gem, but he was at a loss. At least until he heard her scream, “PLEASE! DON’t!!” Steven jumped and rushed towards her voice. Sure enough, Spinel was kneeling on the sand as if hovering over something, her tears flooding down and wetting the sand beneath her hands.

“Spinel,” Steven called out, quickly dropping to his knees and grabbing her shoulders to shift her focus to his face. “Spinel, what’s wrong?”

Spinel stared at Steven in shock for a moment, her tears stopping once she looked into his eyes. “St-steven...” she muttered softly, “…but you were…” her voice trailed off, glancing down at the sand where she had been kneeling.

“That wasn’t me,” he stated evenly. “Spinel, I think you’re seeing things. What did you see? It’s important.”

Spinel forced a smile and wiped her eyes, “I was probably jus-“

“—Tell me.” Steven insisted, not allowing her to dodge the question this time. He was sure now that she had seen something this morning as well. Just like the Rutile Twins, something was scaring her.

Spinel looked as though she had been cornered. She could see in Steven’s eyes that he wasn’t going to let this slide. “…I saw…you,” she answered, fighting back tears as she recalled the vision. “You were leaving because…you didn’t need me anymore…”

Steven sighed sadly. So this was what she was afraid of? He knew it scared her that he would choose Connie or that their relationship wouldn’t work in some other way, but he thought he had reassured her last night that he didn’t intend to leave her so easily. She must have been more insecure about it than he thought. “Spinel, I’m right here. Do you remember what I said to you last night?”

Spinel blushed lightly and wiped her eyes again, “yes. I remember…” she replied quietly.

“I need you to keep my words in mind, okay? If you see something scary again, if you see me and I start to say hurtful things…you hold onto what I told you. I love you, Spinel. Nothing is going to change that…”

The pink gem shrunk a little, feeling ashamed that she was always so easily convinced Steven was going to abandon her. She wanted to have more faith in the person she had fallen in love with. “I’ll remember. …I’m sorry, Steven…”

Steven leaned in and kissed her forehead before helping her up. For the time being it was probably better to keep Spinel close until they figured out what was going on. Pearl should be speaking to Peridot by now, hopefully they would find out where Garnet had gone. Taking Spinel’s hand, he led her from the beach and decided to dig a little deeper before they headed back home. So far, he and Lars had seen some pretty extreme reactions from the Gems that they knew. Did that mean this was only affecting Gems? It seemed like going to little home world was the best option in order to gather some information.

Taking a warp, Spinel and Steven arrived at Little Home World and the two immediately noticed the heavy atmosphere. It wasn’t as cheerful as it had been just a little while ago. Though some Gems looked to be just fine, there weren’t as many bustling about.

“What’s going on…?” Spinel asked aloud as she looked around the town.

“Come on,” Steven began, pulling Spinel along as he made a bee line for Peridot and Lapis’ home. He didn’t want Spinel to worry. At least not until they actually knew what was happening.

As they approached their friend’s home, they could see that Pearl had already arrived there. She and Peridot were speaking just outside the front door, neither of them looked very happy as they spoke.

“Pearl, Peridot, what’s going on?” asked Steven as he rushed over to them with Spinel at his heels.

“Oh Steven, thank goodness!” Peridot exclaimed with a relieved smile. “I was just about to call you. It’s Lapis. She’s been locked in her room for days now. I tried everything I could think of to cheer her up…but she refuses to come out. Maybe…you could try?”

“Days?” repeated Steven. “Why didn’t you-“

“She wouldn’t let me,” Peridot interrupted. “I told Lapis I was going to bring you over, but she begged me not to get you. …but I’m at my limit. She’s been…crying a lot and…last night, she started to bang on the walls…screaming.”

Steven panicked internally. If Gems were seeing things that frightened them, what on earth was Lapis seeing? Lapis had been through so much, he could imagine the pain she was feeling right now. “I-I’ll give it a try! Here, don’t let her run off,” he insisted as he left Spinel by Pearls side and rushed into the house. Like the barn, Peridot and Lapis had decorated their new home with Meep-Morps and several pictures of their dearly departed pet Pumpkin. As he neared Lapis’ door, he could hear her talking to herself. Nothing he could understand though.

“Lapis,” he began cautiously. “Can you hear me?”

Just like that, the murmuring stopped, but there was no reply from the other side of the door.

“Can I come in and talk? I just want to make sure you’re okay. We’re all really worried.” As his hand reached for the door, he was stopped by a loud bang against the entrance.

“Don’t come in here,” Lapis shouted.

Steven was sure he heard her voice cracking. She must have been crying. “Lapis, please, I just want to help…”

“You can’t help me! Just leave me alone!”

“No,” insisted Steven. “Just let me in, Lapis, I can help.”

It was silent for several minutes before the door creaked open and Lapis peeked out, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She seemed to scan the area to make sure Peridot wasn’t there until she stepped out, revealing her disrupted form. Steven gasped at once. Lapis looked just like Spinel did last night; her form was glitching and struggling to keep its image.

“Lapis! Why didn’t you call me sooner?!” he exclaimed in a panic and forcing her to lean against the wall as he went behind her to examine the Gem on her back. Sure enough, it had been broken, nearly cracked down the middle.

“I was scared…” she replied softly, hugging her own shoulders. “I thought I might hurt you or Peridot if I saw you guys…”

Steven licked his hand and placed it over her Gem, hoping this wasn’t like it had been with Spinel. However, it seemed to have no effect as he feared. “Why would you think that?” he asked in concern, trying again and hoping not to panic her. He’d try one more time before he had to sound the alarm. At the very least, her Gem didn’t seem to be splintering like Spinels had been.

“I kept…seeing myself hurt you two,” Lapis admitted. “I…I knew it couldn’t have been real…but…it…it just wouldn’t stop. I was…Malachite again…and I…”

The more she went on, there was another noticeable crack forming alone her gem. Steven Panicked and turned her around. “D-Don’t worry about it! I’m fine, see?! I’m right here! You’ll never be Malachite again! You’d never hurt any of us! You’re a Crystal Gem, right?”

Lapis tried to smile, but the horrible feelings that plagued her just wouldn’t stop rushing over her like a wave. She couldn’t stop the fear from closing in on her. “St-Steven…I’m scared.” She admitted with a trembling voice. It wasn’t just hurting him that she worried about. She kept thinking she was still inside that mirror. Creating a world for herself in there so she wouldn’t be lonely. She kept thinking that she would blink one day and she’d be looking out from the mirror all alone again, finding that this was all just her wishful thinking.

“It’s okay! Everything is going to be okay,” Steven tried as he forced himself to smile through his panic. “All we have to do is—“ before Steven was able to finish, Lapis vanished in a cloud of smoke, her broken gem dropping to the floor with Pearl standing in front of Steven now, her spear being held out where Lapis had been standing. “Pearl? …you poofed her?!” Steven asked in disbelief.

Pearl bent down and bubbled Lapis with a frown. “I didn’t a repeat of last night. This is better than watching her Gem get worse. We’ll bring her to the fountain and heal her there.”

This actually made Steven feel better. He didn’t even think about poofing Lapis. That was probably a good idea. Good thing Pearl was still thinking clearly. “Right. That’s a good idea. …but we have a bigger problem now.”

“I know…” Pearl began, transferring Lapis’ Gem back to the temple. “Something Is affecting Gems. …Peridot said that a lot of Gems here have been afraid of something. It started at the same time Lapis locked herself in her room.”

“What do you think could be causing it,” asked Steven, gripping his shirt just over his own Gem.

“I’m not sure. …and Peridot has no idea where Garnet went off to. Her droids haven’t been able to pick up any trace of her. I’m…a little worried now.”

“Well whatever this is, it doesn’t go away after being healed. Spinel was healed…and she is still seeing things that scare her. This thing is showing Gems visions or trapping them in a bad memory and making it worse. What we thought was just Spinel’s anxiety…was probably this thing showing her bad things,” Steven explained.

Pearl bit her lip, trying to think. She didn’t want to admit that she had been seeing some pretty bad things as well. She thought they had just been her worries getting to her, but apparently something was manipulating her fears. Perhaps now that she knew that, she could remind herself that it wasn’t real. “…It’s probably better if we let Lapis rest in the bubble for now then. Should we poof Spinel too? If she’s still seeing things she might—“

“NO!” Steven shouted angrily. The moment she mentioned poofing Spinel, the image of her broken shards flooded back to him. He knew that’s not what she meant, but he couldn’t help feeling panicked by the idea of her not being around. Steven realized quickly that he had snapped at Pearl once again and shook his head, “S-Sorry, Pearl. Um…I’ll keep a close eye on Spinel. So don’t worry. For now…let’s just go and explain all this to Peridot.”

#steven universe #su #stevinel #stevinel fanfic #su fanfic #with all my heart #chapter 17 #lapis lazuli #peridot

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ardcntlamia · 4 years

Text

TW: death, drugs, prostitution, disease, aids, homophobia, and child abuse are mentioned

( richard harmon, vampire, he/him & cismale ) is that ( comfortably numb ) by ( pink floyd ) playing? ( ALEXANDER “XANDER” CHAPELL ) must be nearby! heard folks say the ( thirty six ) year old ( drug runner ) was not at the letum falls thanksgiving fair because ( he was caught up with work ). as a result, they weren’t present during the glitch but ( his boyfriend was killed ).

born a few towns over from letum falls in the great year of ‘48, alexander chapell was supposed to be the golden boy. his parents, two retired military technicians, thought they would never get pregnant, that they’d spent far too long in the service to start a family now.

soon enough two months out of the military, fourty-nine year old holly chapell was confirmed pregnant. they took their savings and refurbished their entire home, hoping to make it the perfect place to raise a child

unfortunately, alexander wasn’t exactly the child they had expected. he was a fairly quiet baby, but wavering into his toddler years the young chapell began to act out

his first offence; biting. he started taking chunks out of others in fits of rage, temper tantrums like you wouldn’t believe. the chapells tried everything --- time outs, spankings, off to bed without dinner, nothing could break the child of his rage. It wasn’t long before the gentle punishments turned violent

years passed and trouble just kept coming. xander would often be sent home from school for fights, cursing, disobedience, you name it. but nothing, nothing prepared them for his final offence.

xander’s father caught him red-handed in his room, lips on another boy. his parents despised gays, called them a repertoire of hideous slurs, and xander knew there was no coming back from this. by the end of the day, xander was on the streets, his first boyfriend had been scared so far into the closet there was no hope of anything more, and he was left completely alone to fend for himself

by 15, xander was turning tricks in the dark for money, catering to the deceptive husbands of his hometown. he had fallen low, but surviving by your own means meant scraping tooth and nail to get back on your feet

five years of jumping from temporary job to temporary job, dealing a bit and rolling under the radar, xander ventured off to find the promise of better jobs. leaving everything behind, not that he had much to begin with, he set off to the mysterious letum falls

his luck seemed to change at just twenty when he found a decent paying job, one where he could afford a roof over his head and food in his stomach. a small house on the edge of town, one bedroom, one bathroom, enough for him to be comfortable.

a couple more years flew by like this, work consuming xander’s life. he kept to himself and hadn’t made a single friend outside of work. his life ran in a never ending cycle, repeating the same schedule over and over every day. wake up, eat, work, eat, sleep, wake up. truly a lone wolf, the man with just a name and nothing more.

it was 1972 when xander noticed changes in himself. he skipped lunch twice in three days, and slept through his alarm more than a handful of times before work started asking questions. his memory was strung, teetering back and forth with pieces of information, none of it added up.

one visit to the doctor and xander regretted it all. AIDS. it was something he’d read in the paper a time or two, the disease notoriously infecting gay men across the country, and it was known to be deadly. the papers didn’t give out all the facts, but one thing he knew, the disease was tied too close to homosexuality for his comfort. his dirty laundry wasn’t the world’s to see

the next two years were a living hell. it all blurred together--- work, sleep, blank, blank, music, work, blank. the days were passing by before xander could even live them. by the end of 1973, xander was laid off, and his disease was taking a tighter hold on him.

xander doesn’t remember much about the night of his death. the flickering scenes add up to him in an alleyway, strung out in a daze of delusion as he collapses to the concrete. his final moments blur together, but locks of golden brown curls lay him to rest.

that is, until he woke back up with a hunger inside, sat in a home he wasn’t familiar with. he didn’t hurt, he didn’t ache, but he was hungrier than hell. in that home, he finally came face to face with his savior, manny, a man he vowed to be loyal to until his final breath

soon, manny explained that the final breath thing may be a bit further away than he thought. the gift of immortality and a life of loyalty, all paid by the price of blood. it wasn’t such a terrible deal in xander’s eyes

xander became a close confidant of manny, working as a drug runner in his business and declaring himself manny’s own personal bodyguard and it’s been that way for a little less than a decade

he’s a bit silent for such a rugged man, but underneath that icy exterior is a mile-long list of knock knock jokes he’s been waiting to tell since the 50’s

he did not attend the fair but he lost someone close within the chaos. his boyfriend, bez, was killed in the disaster, and he’s been bottling up his emotions ever since, refusing to shatter his ghost boyfriend’s heart just for his own sanity, so he’s kept his mouth shut and acted like nothing has changed. it was the first relationship he’s had in half a decade. in all truth, he’s not sure how to deal with grief, so he chooses to ignore it instead.

aesthetics : half-smoked cigarettes, ripped jeans paired with converse, rugged stubble on a steel-hard jaw, white knuckles, dripping red from sharp white, a smile seen as often as halley’s comet, crimson tides, the smell of death in the morning.

wanted connections :

regular customers : xander works for manny and does a lot of dealing face to face, he’d rather get the job done himself than send a fool to do it for him. that’s how mistakes are made. so it’s not uncommon for xander to sell to the same people. these could be new regular customers, or some oldies who have been buyin’ since ‘74, i’m down for anything

enemies : this is pretty self explanatory, but i’d love any sort of enemy plot. xander is a hard nut to crack, and can often let his sarcasm run loose, ending in a lot of bad encounters. this guy is probably on handful of hit lists by now

past encounters : this could be from his time on the streets when he was selling his body just to survive, or even from his early days in manny’s employment, someone who might be able to recognize that he hasnt aged a day, or someone who’s helping him keep that secret. honestly this could go a million ways and i’m down for all of them

once again i suck at making connections but hit me up if you’re down for any of these or if you’d like to brainstorm !

#othqintro #drug tw #disease tw #aids tw #homophobia tw #child abuse tw #death tw #prostitution tw

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eightmakar · 5 years

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A Summer At Stark / One / P.P.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Original Character

Summary: Cameron Murphy is a Georgia girl working in the Big Apple over the summer with Stark Industries and their “most promising employee” Peter Parker.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: ENDGAME SPOILERS

A/N: I know i was supposed to post this yesterday but hey tumblr is a piece of shit and deleted the whole ass post when i tried to schedule it. so here it is instead! the Tag List is open so shoot me an ask! shoutout to @the-claire-bitch-project for beta reading!

Cameron placed her box down on the couch of her tiny new Queens apartment. She tugged her tank top down and her running shorts up again; her shirt always seemed to creep up her tummy while her shorts slid down her butt, especially when she carried things.

She was dripping with sweat. When she accepted this summer job in Queens, she expected it to be cooler than the Atlanta summers she’d grown up with. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and wiped the sweat off onto her shorts. Her hair was sticking to her throat and neck and she could feel it frizzing up. Why had she come up north away from the humidity just to have her hair frizz up wildly while she was moving in?

She pulled her hair down from and flipped her head over, combing through her thin, blonde-kissed brown curls and forming them back into their ponytail. She bound them with her hair tie, making sure she got as many of the flyaways as she could. She fanned at herself for a moment, trying to cool off before she had to trek back downstairs and outside to her car. Only a few boxes left, she thought to herself.

Cam took a deep breath and placed her hands on her hips. She bit the inside of her lip, tugging on it as she looked around the shoebox. She wished her parents had been able to come up and help her move, but they didn’t have the work time off since they’d taken time off to go on vacation together with her sister.

She finally walked out of the door of her apartment and padded down the hall to the elevator. Her building had just been renovated by Stark Industries, Cam’s new employer. She was working a summer internship with them that she hoped would turn into a job someday. She’d been told by the hiring manager she’d be working on some sort of “special” project with Stark’s “most promising team member.”

She wished this promising team member could’ve helped her move her stuff in. Cam nearly cried in joy as she realized she just had one box and her backpack left to move in. She swung her backpack on her shoulders and trudged to her trunk to lift up the box. She placed it gently on the ground as she shut her trunk door and locked her car with the remote on her key. She leaned back down with a groan, grabbed the far corners of the box, and headed back inside her apartment building.

She waited for the elevator patiently, thankful she’d left the lightest box for last. The elevator doors opened with a ding and she stepped in.

The doors began to close and Cam heard a small call of “wait!” She groaned and stuck her foot in the door to prevent it from closing as a boy came running into the elevator with you. He was on the smaller side, just a few inches taller than Cam. He shoved his unruly brown hair out of his face as he grinned.

“Thanks,” he said breathlessly. “What floor?”

“Um, seven,” she said, pressing her lips together. She was still sweating, still horribly sticky, and didn’t have the energy to be talkative.

“Sure thing,” the boy said. He pressed the “7” button and only the seven button. He bounced up and down, full of energy for some reason. Maybe he enjoyed the god-awful heat. “I’m on seven, too.”

Cam just looked at him, lips still pressed together over her teeth, and nodded.

“You, uh, just moving in?” he asked. He turned to press his back against the opposite side of the elevator, grabbing the handrail.

“Yep,” Cam said. “I’ll be here all summer.”

The boy opened his mouth to speak again, perhaps to introduce himself or welcome her, but the door dinged open again. Cam mumbled a quick “bye” and hurried off the elevator, walking quickly to her apartment.

She plopped the box down and sighed, tugging her backpack off her back and letting it gently drop to the floor. Cam kicked her flip-flops off and padded to the thermostat. It was set on 70, but she felt like she was melting, so she reset it to 62. She would set it to probably 65 later, but for right then, she needed to cool off.

Cam ripped her shirt off and stood in the middle of the room in her sports bra. She looked down at her tummy, turning her nose up a tiny bit at the purple stretch marks that decorated her stomach. She shrugged, then laid down on the floor. She was surprised at how much cooler it was.

Cameron laid for a few moments before forcing herself to get up again. She found her box labeled “BEDROOM” in her sister’s handwriting and carried it into her room with her. She dropped it on her Queen-sized bed, then sighed when she remembered she left her pocket knife in her backpack. She padded back into the living room and grabbed her backpack, dragging it into her bedroom and lifting it up on the bed with the box. She dug through the small front pocket until she felt her knife.

“Aha!” she exclaimed, pulling it out and tugging the blade out of its cover. She cut the tape on the box, pushed the blade back in, then tossed her closed knife on the bed. She ripped open the box and was greeted with a framed picture of her, her sister, and her best friend, Maggie. She grinned at it, pulling the frame out of the box and immediately placing it on her bedside table.

She unpacked for a while, making her new place feel like home. She kept a list in a note on her phone of what all she needed. Her new landlord had left her a welcome basket with things like toilet paper and paper towels and soap, which was wonderful. She did, however, have to order pizza, since she had no food in the house, but she wasn’t complaining about buying New York pizza.

Cam arrived extra early at the Stark Industries in the morning. It was situated near Prospect Park, a quick Subway ride from her Queens apartment over to Brooklyn. She walked into the enormous building, nervously feeling the gel fingernail polish that adorned her nails. She was excited nervous, but still scared her new employer or this promising recruit she would be working with would somehow deny her a job.

The secretary at the front desk directed her to the elevator and told her to go to the 45th floor. She thanked the secretary and walked nervously to the elevator. Cam’s eyes went wide as she looked at the directory next to the elevator button. 45TH FLOOR: MS. PEPPER POTTS, CEO, it read. The CEO? Why was she meeting the CEO?

Nevertheless, she stepped onto the elevator and hit the button. The doors began to close when she heard a small call of, “Hold the door!”

Cam stuck her hand between the elevator doors to force them to open again. Standing in front of the open doors was none other than the chirpy, brunette boy she’d met the day before in the apartment elevator.

He looked confused as he stepped onto the elevator. “Is this, like, a glitch in the Matrix or something? Didn’t we meet yesterday on an elevator?”

Cam pressed her lips together and nodded. “Yep, we did. Are you, like, following me or something?”

The boy shook his head. “Oh, no no no, I work here.” He pointed to an extremely obvious Stark Industries badge hanging directly in front of Cam. “I’m Peter Parker.” He stuck out his hand.

“Cam Murphy,” she replied, shaking his hand.

“What floor?” he asked, turning to look at the buttons. He paused, about to reach for the “45” button when he realized it had already been pressed. “Oh, are you the summer intern?” He asked.

“I mean, I’m a summer intern,” she said, awkwardly.

“We only hired one intern this summer,” Peter said. “I could only convince Pepper to give me one helper.” He chuckled, then took a sip of a coffee he had in his hand.

“Oh,” Cam said, thinking. “So you’re this ‘up and comer’ I keep hearing about?”

Peter spluttered on his coffee. “‘Up and comer?’” he repeated. “I don’t know about that.”

“I was told I’d be working with the “most promising employee” here,” Cam explained.

“Oh.” Peter was shocked and stared at the wall ahead of him before puffing his chest up proudly.

“What do you do here?” Cam asked, turning to look at him.

“I do, uh, research,” he stuttered.

“On?”

“Um, have you heard of Spider-Man?”

Cam snorted. “The spandex-wearing dumbass that swings around the city? Yeah, I’ve heard of him.”

Peter’s cheeks flushed. “Um, yeah, that guy, he, um, he works here, kinda, I guess. But the webbing, um, stuff that he uses is super cool and I do research on it.”

Oh, so he’s Spider-Man, Cam thought. But he doesn’t want me to know. Wait. He’s Spider-Man. He, like, regularly gets in fights? And swings around the city with webs and shit? What the fuck? Why this guy? He’s so… tiny? Why spiders? Is he one of those weird bug guys? What the fuck?

“What’s so special about it?” Cam asked aloud, hiding her confusion. She examined him, looking for some enlightenment on why this guy specifically had become a worldwide phenomenon. He just seemed like a normal guy. A normal guy who liked to talk.

Peter’s face brightened. “It’s like, crazy strong, right? It’s got all kinds of qualities that could be used for other things, like in medicine, so we’re being contracted by a bunch of different agencies to see what other things it can do!”

Cam smiled. He was so passionate about this web stuff that her suspicion was immediately confirmed. He was, one hundred percent, Spider-Man. But why spiders? What was his deal with spiders? She had so many questions for him.

The elevator dinged and the doors swung open. Peter held his arm out, motioning for Cam to step out before he did.

“Ladies first,” he said.

She stepped out of the elevator and gazed around. It was incredible. Windows were everywhere, so it felt bright and warm in the room. Peter stepped out next to her, then ushered her to the front desk.

“Hi, can I help you?” the secretary asked. “Good morning, Peter.”

“Morning, Ashley!” Peter chirped happily.

“My name is Cameron Murphy, I’m the new intern,” Cam said. “I’m guessing I need a badge?”

“Welcome to Stark!” Ashley said. She fumbled in her desk for a moment before she pulled out a badge that read GUEST. “I’ll take your picture later and get you a permanent badge made, but for now, this will be yours! Peter can take you back to meet with Ms. Potts, and since you’ll be working with him, he’ll also show you your work station! If you need anything, let me know!”

Cam pinned the badge on the hem of her shirt. “Thanks!”

Peter pointed to a hallway behind him as Ashley went back to typing on her computer. “This way, madam,” he said.

Cam paused, curtsied at Peter, tugging her flower-print dress out, then continued into the hallway.

Peter laughed, and Cam felt a small surge of pride. She didn’t know why; maybe it was because Peter’s happiness was infectious, or maybe it was because she didn’t know a single soul in New York and he had been kind to her from the moment he met her. Either way, she walked down the hall, Peter hot on her tail, until she saw a sign on the door she was looking for.

“That’s it on your left,” Peter said from behind her.

Cam gasped dramatically. “No, really? I thought I was looking for the door that didn’t say ‘Pepper Potts, CEO.’”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Ha ha,” he said. “Very funny.”

Cam smirked and shrugged. “I try.”

Peter walked up to the door and just went inside, to Cam’s surprise. She looked at him incredulously as he held the door open for her, motioning her inside. “Why didn’t you knock?” she asked quietly as she walked inside.

“Because he doesn’t need to,” a strong woman’s voice said. Cam looked to the desk in the middle of the room to see none other than Pepper Potts, the CEO of Stark Industries and the widow of Tony Stark.

“Hi,” Cam squeaked. Pepper was one of her idols, so she couldn’t believe she was here.

“Hi, Cameron,” Pepper replied, coming around to the front of her desk to shake Cam’s hand. “We’re so excited to have you as part of the team.”

“I go by ‘Cam,’” she managed to get out.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t,” Cam started, “don’t worry about it! I’m very excited to be here.”

“I see you’ve already met Peter,” Pepper said as she walked back behind her desk. “Have a seat, please!”

Peter sat down in one of the two chairs in front of Pepper’s desk. He leaned back, looking at Cam as he put his hands behind his head.

Cam saw movement underneath Pepper’s desk, but as soon as she realized what was happening, there was a loud cry of, “BOO!”

Peter fell backwards out of his chair, landing face first but immediately jumping up perched forward on one hand with the other behind him. It was a pose Cam had seen Spider-Man do on the news, so she added that to another mental note under “Evidence Peter Parker is Spider-Man.”

A little girl, probably 7 or 8 years old, clambered to her feet, giggling. “Gotcha!” she said proudly.

Peter breathed deeply and looked at the ground, smiling and shaking his head. “You sure did, almost scared me to death!”

She giggled again, then ran towards Peter, who scooped her up in his arms, set his chair back up, and sat back down. Cam followed suit, sitting down in the chair next to him.

“This is our new friend, Cam,” Pepper said. “Morgan, can you say hi to Cam?”

The little girl turned her head and rested it on Peter. She waved at Cam. “Hi Cam,” she said softly.

“Hi,” Cam said back. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“This is my daughter, Morgan,” Pepper said. “She insists on coming to work with me during the summer.”

“It’s my company,” Morgan explained to Cam. “I’m going to be the CPO one day!”

“CEO, Morg,” Peter said softly.

Morgan pulled her head off his shoulder and glared at him. “That’s what I said.”

Peter laughed. “Sorry, Squirt, just wanted to make sure I heard you right.”

“You will,” Cam said to Morgan. She leaned in really close to her, then whispered: “Can I be your Vice President? When you’re the CPO?”

Morgan thought for a moment. “Yep. I’ll need someone with your, um, qual-i-fi-ca-tions.” She looked proudly at her mom after slowly pronouncing each syllable with precise annunciation.

Pepper shook her head, laughing. “Cam is definitely qualified.”

Morgan looked triumphantly at Cam. “You’re hired.”

Cam laughed. “I look forward to working with you, Miss Morgan.”

Peter chuckled, ruffling Morgan’s hair. “We gotta talk to your mom now, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” Morgan said, then laid her head back down on Peter’s shoulder.

“Alright,” Pepper said, folding her hands and putting them on the desk in front of her. “So, like I said, you’ll be working with Peter here doing some research for us. As I’m sure you know, Stark Industries has kind of become a, um, home for ‘superheroes,’ if you will, and we’ve begun research on one of these people’s item of choice.”

“Spider-Man’s web stuff, right?” Cam asked.

Pepper nodded. “Peter tell you in the elevator?”

“Sure did.”

“That’s exactly right. A lot of people are very interested in it, and—.”

“Excuse me? Mommy?” Morgan interrupted.

“Yes ma’am?” Pepper looked at Morgan.

“May I be excused to go potty?”

“Yes, you may, thanks for asking! Peter, will you take her?”

Morgan slid off Peter’s lap and Peter stood up. “I would be honored!” he cried. He took Morgan’s hand, then the two walked out of the room together.

Cam shifted in her chair. “So, um, Peter’s Spider-Man, right?”

Pepper pressed her lips together. “He told you too much in the elevator, huh?”

“Yes ma’am, he sure did.”

Pepper sighed. “He thinks he’s subtle about it, but he’s just excited. Please don’t tell him you know, at least not until he tells you. And act surprised when he tells you.”

“How many people know?” Cam asked.

“Um, probably everyone that works in the building. It’s a miracle he’s not all over the papers.”

“I’ll keep it to myself,” Cam laughed. “But it’s his web stuff we’re researching?”

“Yes. He created it himself, which is incredible to me. He’s a good kid, and he needs something to keep him occupied and safe during the summer, so I promised him and his aunt that he could work here. It’s been a rough few years for him,” Pepper said sadly. “He was very close with my husband.”

Cam nodded. Everyone knew what happened to Tony Stark.

“So just help him with what he needs,” Pepper continued. “He’s got a good little set up just down the hall. He’s essentially your boss, to be honest. It’s his project and we’re happy to fund it. If something happens, you come straight to me, okay?”

Cam nodded again. “Yes ma’am.”

The door swung open and Peter came running in with Morgan on his back, squealing in delight. He ran around the room a few times before he let her down and rejoined Cam and Pepper at the desk. Morgan ran back to her mom and crawled into Pepper’s lap.

“Alright,” Pepper said, hugging Morgan. “That’s all I have for now, Cam, unless you have any questions for me. We’ll send the chief administrator to do paperwork with you in a little bit. Otherwise, it’s all you, Peter!”

Peter grinned. “Lab time?”

Pepper smiled softly and nodded in response. Peter’s grin brightened, if it were possible.

Morgan looked up at her mom. “Mommy, can I go with Peter?”

“I’m sorry, sweetie, Peter’s going to work on his special project,” Pepper explained.

“And only grown-ups are allowed in Peter’s lab,” Morgan recited, as if she’d heard it a million times before. “I can’t wait to be a grown-up so I can help Peter, too!”

Pepper kissed Morgan’s head. “He’d love that, sweetheart.”

“I sure would,” Peter agreed. “But I’ll see you for our dinner date, okay Squirt?”

“Okay!” Morgan cheered. She slid off Pepper’s lap, then skipped to the corner of the room where a myriad of toys lay on the floor.

“We’ll see ya later, Pepper!” Peter claimed, standing up and walking towards the door. Cameron quickly stood up and scurried after Peter, wondering, how does he move so goddamn fast?

She was a little out of breath when she and Peter reached the lab. Peter Parker moved far quicker than he should have, and she wondered if it was because of all that Spider-Man shit. What even was the story on that?

“So here it is!” Peter proudly sang. “This is where the magic happens.”

Cam gave him a look, unamused.

Peter giggled, unphased. “So, until you get your keycard, I’ll have to key you in,” he began, swiping his badge and opening the door. The lights of the lab automatically came on, illuminating the various equipment strewn about the room. Cam gazed around, taking in everything.

Peter was grinning from ear to ear. “It’s um, pretty sick, right?” he asked, puffing his chest up a little. “I designed the whole thing myself.”

Cam started walking around the perimeter of the room, looking in jars, reading labels, checking out the equipment. It was an impressive set up; Peter had all the latest tech in his little lab, to no one’s surprise.

“This is some pretty impressive shit, Parker,” Cam said, leaning against a counter and crossing her arms. “What do you need me here for?”

“I mean, what’s not to like about a physics and electrical engineering double major from Georgia Tech?” Peter spouted. “I didn’t even know they let you double major in those.”

“I mean,” Cam began, “they usually don’t. I had to petition them hard to let me do it. They told me, ‘If I wanted to do that I should’ve gone to MIT.’”

“What’s so bad about MIT?” Peter asked, mimicking Cam’s stance and smirking.

“It’s in the north, that’s what’s so bad about MIT. I’m a Southern girl, through and through.”

“But you’re in the north right now, aren’t you?”

“For the summer, yeah,” Cam countered. “I hate snow. I could never live up here full-time.”

Peter gaped. “You hate snow? Why?”

“It’s cold and wet and makes everything else cold and wet.” Cam shuddered at the thought of the winter in New York.

Peter continued to stare. “Wow.”

“Bet you couldn’t survive a day in a Georgia summer,” Cam challenged with a grin.

“Oh really?” Peter countered. “How so?”

“Well, y’all don’t know anything about humidity up here. At home in the middle of July, good God you can’t leave the house for a second without sweat pouring down your whole body,” Cam explained. “It can get up to 90 degrees plus one hundred percent humidity.”

“Whoa, what?” Peter was taken aback. “How is that possible?”

Cam shrugged. “Wish I knew, Parker, wish I knew. So, are we gonna, like, work?”

“Oh,” Peter said, a little disappointed.

The feeling is mutual, Cam thought. Peter Parker was a really cool dude.

“Oh, my god!” Peter laughed, walking Cameron down the street to his favorite cafe. “People in the south really say that?”

“Oh yeah,” Cam replied. “I can’t tell you how many goddamn racist comments I hear every day. It’s so blatant it’s crazy. Once, my great-grandfather met a friend of mine from upstate New York, and when I told him where she was from, he looked at her and deadass say, ‘Oh you’re a Yankee? Well I’m a rebel!’ And cackled about it.”

“Yikes,” Peter said.

“He also told me that if I brought home a black guy he’d disown me, so that was pretty cool too,” Cam said nonchalantly.

Peter’s eyes bulged. “Excuse me?”

“Yep, you heard me exactly right. He uses the n-word with a hard ‘-er’ at the end, too, and sees nothing wrong with it. I had half a thought to bring home a black girl as a fake girlfriend just to see his reaction.”

“Wow.” Peter was blown away.

Cam shrugged. “It’s fine, he’s ninety-nine years old and we’re just waiting for him to die.”

“Cameron!” Peter gasped.

Cam didn’t regret it. It was true; her great-grandfather had lived a long, full life and he himself would tell you he’d been ready to die for thirty years.

But she also rather liked the way Peter said her full name, even though she’d never gone by ‘Cameron.’ Her parents decided she was ‘Cam’ when she was five days old. She didn’t really associate herself with the name ‘Cameron,’ but if that’s what Peter Parker wanted to call her, then she wasn’t going to stop him.

“I mean, he’s been ready to die since he turned seventy,” Cam explained.

“That’s horrible, Cam!” Peter said, holding back a laugh.

“He’s a racist old man, Peter!” Cam said in the same tone. “The south created him that way, and it’s unfortunate. The south creates a lot of people that way.”

“It didn’t create you that way,” Peter said softly.

“Well, yeah, my dad is from the north and my mom is from the south, so I had the best of both worlds. I practically grew up in Philly.”

Peter opened the cafe door for Cam and she stepped inside. “Where’s your mom from?” he asked, letting the door close behind him.

“Tuscaloosa,” she replied, heading towards a small booth in the back corner. “Her parents were Alabama graduates. She went to Georgia Tech, met my dad, stayed in Georgia.”

“Interesting,” Peter said, trailing after her. “Why’d your dad go to Tech?”

“Engineering. He’s a computer engineer, Mom’s a mechanical engineer. They make a great team.” Cam slide into the booth.

“Oh shit,” Peter said softly, sliding in across from Cam. “That’s a lot of money.”

“My parents are minimalists. We spend the money on experiences, not stuff. We understand we’re very lucky and we do what we can to help people that aren’t as lucky as we are,” she explained.

Cam and her family had personally gone on mission trips to different countries every summer since she was eight. Her mom had started an anonymous charity to bring low-cost, long-lived technology to third world countries, and when they could, the Murphy family personally took their technology to the people that needed it. In high school, Cam designed a solar-powered wheelchair specifically for rural communities. She called it “The Off-roader,” and she went with her mom to deliver it all over the world. She adored their summers abroad helping people. She always wished she could stay longer and help more.

She wanted to improve people’s lives with her degrees by making technology more accessible for the people she met on her trips. She knew about Tony Stark’s reach into renewable, sustainable energy, like his arc reactor, and she was hoping that she could utilize some of Stark’s tech and apply it to the work she’d been doing with her parents all her life. She hoped that maybe Stark Industries --and, by extension, Peter Parker-- would share her desire to help make life better for people who weren’t as lucky as she was.

“Oh,” Peter squeaked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—.”

“It’s cool,” Cam said. “A lot of people think I’m just some entitled white girl, so I’m quick to defend myself.”

“I, um,” Peter stuttered, “I don’t come from a lot of money. My parents died when I was little, so I live with my aunt. My uncle died a few years back, and since then my aunt has been doing her best to keep us afloat. Until Mr. Stark,” Peter’s voice cracked, “gave me this internship, we didn’t have much. Pepper’s made sure we did okay, too, but, um, yeah. I’m rambling, yeah, but, uh, that’s why I said that.”

“You’re fine, Peter,” Cam said, smiling softly. He was such a sweetheart, she could barely stand it. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“Don’t be, I understand exactly where you’re coming from. I’ve been working at Stark for so long that people assume things about me, too, and I’d do the same thing.” Peter smiled back.

“You’re a pretty cool guy, Parker,” Cam said as a waiter came up to them. “This is gonna be a fun summer.”

buy me a coffee maybe? (i’m saving money for grad school!) | masterlist

tags: open!

@shutyourmoustache @dtftomholland @madmadmilk @starksparker @spiderboytotherescue @bensbuttercup @upsidedownparker @parkerpuffwrites @parkerpete @peterplanet @petersbackpack @heavenlyhollands @heavenly--osterfield @borhapparker @hollandroos @tomhollandeu @thewackywriter @musiclover1263 @sincerelymlg @paradoxparker @all-the-best-people-are-weird @printedpeterparker @starlightfound @its-obrosey-bitch @ohsweetcarol @trashqueenbitch @spidermanfarfromhome

#peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fics #peter parker fanfics #peter parker fanfictions #peter parker x oc #peter parker x original character #endgame spoilers #avengers endgame spoilers #spiderman fic #spiderman #tom holland

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masseffecthoe · 5 years

Text

Soul Glitches

Chapter 4

< Chapter 3

The Observation Deck was a wreck, with metal scraps and wires trailing from one end to the other. A few pads and monitors bleeped alive with colorful writings all around the L shaped couch. The only "clean" part of the room was the improvised cot in the far left corner. But there was order in the chaos of tech. Jun knew exactly where things were and each served a precise purpose. Most importantly, it made the place feel like home. The only thing amiss was one depressed looking commander staring blankly into the dark void ahead.

"Weight of the world on your shoulders again, huh?"

"Fells like it will never end. We warn them, they ignore us and then we struggle on our own to save everyone. A vicious cycle."

"I don't know, this one seems pretty final. I mean, the reapers were the end game from the start, right?" She placed a hand on the other woman's shoulder, squeezing just enough to grab her attention from the stars outside. They locked eyes and she wished she could do more to help Shepard carry that weight. "Just one more, then it's shore leave, baby! I'm thinking of visiting more of Earth." The commander smiled sheepishly at her.

"You? On Earth? Vega got to you that badly?"

"Pff no, we're just passing time." She realized the possible interpretation as soon as the words left her mouth and she paused a bit to reconsider. "Wait, that sounded wrong. We just get along, that's all. Nothing weird happening between us."

"Mhm."

"He flirts like that with everyone, I wouldn't look too much into it."

"If you say so. But it looks pretty different from the outside." What looked different? Jun was pretty sure she figured him all out: he was just a fun guy, masking his inner demons from a shitty childhood probably, with little flirts and jokes. She doubted he'd actually put any of those naughty things that came out of his mouth into practice. He was all bark and no bite and she was perfectly okay with it.

"How's Kaidan?"

"He's awake already. Might have been worse if you weren't there to take action so fast. Thank you."

"Any time, Shep. You do know I don't actually hate him, right? Damn, I've been saying this a lot lately."

"I know. I'm sure he knows it too."

"I do hope he gets over himself..."

"Jun!"

"Ok, ok, I promise to try to be nicer to him when he gets back." She put her hands up in defeat, noting the small smile playing on the commander's lips, and went to sit on the clear spot on the couch. Shepard's eyes followed her, then scanned the state of the room, brows slightly furrowed.

"You working on something?"

"Yeah, you'll see soon enough. EDI's helping me with... a pet project."

"Something for fighting?" Jun raised her head from the little circuits she was working on and looked the commander dead in the eyes.

"Well it wasn't going to, but that could actually be pretty cool." She turned to regard the pieces in front of her, a new spark in her voice. "I'd have to make it a little bigger to make room for the additional systems and reinforce the other layer. The shielding will be easy enough, so I'll figure that one last... but... yeah, that would be neat. Can't wait to test this baby out!"

"You got me a little curious. But make sure you check on that Cerberus robot soon. I want it off the ship as soon as possible."

"I'm on it." She didn't raise her head from pile of wires she was sorting out as the commander left her room. She was completely engrossed in the possibilities this new idea brought. Claws! Now that would be awesome. It wouldn't be as efficient as any of her current drones, but it would be marvelous to watch her little creation in battle. After a little fun in a test drive, it could stay on the Normandy as a little extra defense. Never repeat the situation with Joker and the Collectors again. When EDI's voice sounded above her she was almost done modifying the outer carcass.

"Jun, I was wondering if you could help me with something as well?"

"Sure, EDI. What do you need?"

"I was scanning the Cerberus unit for more Prothean data, but I can't run a full diagnostic."

"Yeah, I'll check for anything useful in a minute."

"I would be more suitable for the job as I already have all the system mapped out."

"Then... what do you need me for?"

"It would be more accurate if I had a psychical link to the unit?" Jun dropped the little laser she was using and looked at the ceiling as if the AI would be pocking though it.

"You want me to plug an unsafe Cerberus unit to your main core?"

"Yes. I have located an appropriate cable in the Shuttle bay."

"That's a bad idea EDI, even for my standards."

"If I had any doubt of failure I wouldn't have asked." There was the briefest of pauses, not giving Jun the occasion to shut her down again. "Plus, as you said before, you 'owe me one'."

"Shepard will never allow it..."

"It will be our little secret."

"You're getting cheekier by the minute, girl! Hot damn!" Pinching the bridge of her nose, she thought about the outcomes. "I can't believe I'm actually considering this... But, I will run some diagnostics first, see how dangerous that thing can still be, okay?"

"If it will help ease your mind."

With a final look at the piece she had been working on and a long sigh, Jun made her way to the Shuttle Bay. The elevator ride there was long, her mind filled with questions about what they were about to do. One one hand EDI was right, she'd be faster and more thorough in her search, but on the other hand they were sort of going behind Shepard's back, though not doing anything particularly nefarious. She was hoping the commander would never know the full scope of their little rebellion, but when did she ever get what she wanted?

The double doors hissed open and she casually stepped into the shuttle bay. She'd never spend much time down there and was unsure where they kept spare parts and all that jazz. But as she rounded the corner she was met with a sight she did not expect: James Vega doing pull ups. And what a sight it was! With his back towards her, she could ogle him without shame, glorious muscles going taunt every time he lifted himself. The expanse of his back, even through the sweat ridden t-shirt, was just calling for her to run her greedy little fingers on. She found herself wishing what the commander said was true, and he did act differently around her, flirted just a bit more, with just a hint of seriousness to his words. Or maybe his eyes would linger on her a second more they did on others.

"Quite the view, isn't it?" Jun's spirit almost left her body, both from surprise and shame for being caught drooling all over the lieutenant. She was happy the man spoke loud enough for just her to hear.

"Umm, well, like I told him, I've seen better."

"Oh, that must have hurt, but I guess his ego didn't need to grow any bigger." The man looked fondly towards the lieutenant and Jun got the impression they were close, the kind that taunted each other a lot. He turned towards her shortly after, hand outstretched. "Steve Cortez, I'm the new shuttle pilot."

"Oooh that's great, no one should suffer through Vega's piloting skills ever again. Jun Saros." She shook his hand energetically, genuinely happy they now had an actual pilot for the damn shuttle. Besides Joker, there was no one on the blasted ship who could drive anything, her stomach would still turn when someone even mentioned the Mako.

"So you're Jun."

"You've heard of me?"

"A little bit." A smirk plaid on his lips as he gestured towards the still busy lieutenant. It took Jun every ounce of self control and dignity not to turn her focus back on his work out. "But Saros... why does that sound familiar?" She felt like she might have paled a few shades, but if her discomfort showed, Cortez said nothing about it and before she could change the subject he remembered, his eyes widening the second he made the connection. "Were you on Torfan?"

"Um, well... yes..."

"Impressive. I'm glad too see you're up and kicking."

"It's been, a long journey, but um, thanks." She wished, for a brief moment, that she could just teleport back to her little tech cluttered room and bury herself in research and possibly never speak to any living being again. She knew she didn't really want that and one day she'll have to get over it and talk about... Hell, it might even help to actually talk abut it. But that day was not the day and thankfully the Cortez guy was empathic enough to see she was dying on the inside and changed the subject.

"You were looking for something down here? Maybe I can help."

"Yes actually, I need a Y72 cable."

"Ah yes, I've seen it a few days ago. I'll get it for you." She watched him go deeper into the bay, behind the shuttle. She was waiting, a little impatient to get out of there, when she noticed the little white robot dog running around the room. Now that was interesting. She got just a little closer and crouched in it's path. It came closer, before making a small turn as if to avoid her, but she was faster. She made fast work, opening the small panel on it's back and examining the infrastructure. It had an odd choice of head and no functional mouth. Weren't dogs supposed to fetch things? And with no fur, petting it or "rubbing its belly" seemed pointless, even if may have been programmed to act like it enjoined the action.

"I don't think that's the way to play with it." How was he so silent on his feet when he was so damn bulky? She lifted her gaze and almost swore under her breath. James was, well, hot and it was affecting her a little more than she cared for. Maybe it had been all the commander's fault, putting ideas in her head. Or maybe it had been there all along, but whatever the case, it was not good.

"I was just curious what makes it tick. And also what's its purpose..."

"Yeah, this one's a little weird, but he grows on you." When she close the panel, the dog came back "to life" and made a few circles around James. It was probably designed just as a companion to show affection, maybe for a small child even, but the lieutenant was right, the more you starred at it the cutter it got.

"Well he seems to like you, Vega."

"It's because I spend a lot of time down here. Not a lot of people come this far except when we leave for missions." He scratch the back of his neck, thick, strong neck... Get it together, Saros! "Speaking of which, why are you here? Missed me already, cariño?"

"She was actually here for this." She ignored the question altogether and took the cable from Cortez, thanking to the stars he came when he did, for she might have actually said something positively retarded.

"Thank you. And it was nice meeting you. I look forward to next mission now that Vega isn't in the pilot's seat."

"Oh come on, we all got there and back in one piece."

"If it could, the poor shuttle would argue with that." She poked her tongue out, already backing away towards the elevator. "I've got to go finish something, see you guys around."

James waved her goodbye, eyes never leaving her until the elevator doors closed behind her. He wanted to ask if she needed help with anything, but he doubted he could actually understand anything of what she'd be working on. Nevertheless, he was weirdly interested in her passion for tech. His smile dropped a bit when he noticed Cortez' worried look.

"What?"

"You have no idea who she is, do you?"

"What are you getting at, jefe?"

"She was on Torfan. Their ship had been badly hit, they were abandoning it, but she went back alone and crashed the entire thing in an enemy dreadnought. She saved her entire team that day." It took James a few moments to process the information, mostly because it seemed surreal: Jun, sweet and fun Jun, piloting a burning ship into another. Steve saw the questioning look in his friend's eyes and continued. "I don't know the full story, they kept it pretty quiet for some reason. All I remember was that she was badly injured and they graduate her early from N7 for her service."

The first thing James thought about was how distraught she had been when he crashed the shuttle, how fast she hid her face, knees giving in under her and her voice cracking up. He felt like a jackass, especially with the comment he'd made. How was she still talking to him? He was beyond curious to find out more about about her accident and why she never mentioned she was N7. Most wore it like a sign on pride, but Jun didn't once talk about it. If anything, she avoided any topic slightly relating her time in with the Alliance before Shepard's suicide mission. He was sure the commander knew everything, but it didn't seem fair to pry. Even the bits of information Steve had told him felt like an invasion in her personal life she hadn't wanted to be known. He was sure curiosity would take the best of him sooner or later, though. He might at least apologize and ask Jun herself. Soon.

Back in the AI core, Jun was having a different dilemma. She had ran all the diagnostics she could think of, and a few suggested by EDI despite the cheeky AI probably already having done them. EDI had been patient with her, only cracking a few jokes about the speed process, but otherwise not pestering Jun to plug the robot to her main terminal. She had been staring at the still form of the robot a good fifteen minutes, having ran out of precautions she could take, but not yet ready to take a plunge.

"I'm going to regret this..."

"There is no scenario where we fail, the probability of success-"

"There's always one more variable we didn't account for, one more surprise factor we didn't notice..." She pinched the bridge of her nose, fatigue settling in. After this, a hot shower and sleep until they reached Palavan. "Alas, here we go. Anything goes wrong, you back out of there and tell me to unplug this thing." With her onmi-tool on hand in case the worst came to pass, Jun hooked one end of the cable in Dr. Eva's back, the other in EDI's terminal.

What followed were a few seconds straight out of those old "man vs machine" movies. The robot's eyes opened, a few moments of disorientation, before fixing on Jun. She barely had enough time to duck and evade the first shot. Cloaking her self, she wanted to move from her current position, thinking she could sneak behind her and unplug. She didn't get far before one of the shots ignited a fire and the extinguishers turned on, blocking her vision. The whole ordeal must have lasted less than half a minute, but the stress certainly took one year out of Jun's life. The panel above the console had gone dark, was EDI alright? Was the ship alright? Joker had probably freaked out and already alerted Shepard who was going to barge through the door in any second!

"Jun, are you alright?"

"EDI?" She peaked from behind her hiding spot, the air clearing enough to see the robot lady, thankfully not shooting at her anymore.

"Yes, I have taken control of this unit." It was said so matter-of-factly that Jun wondered if that had been the AI's plan all along. Shepard's voice rang loudly from the other side of the door, but she just sank back on the ground, headache drumming at her temples.

"This is going to be a fun one to explain."

#soulglitches #james vega x reader #james vega x oc #james vega #mass effect #mass effect 3

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kattzziee · 5 years

Text

The Next Stage- Part 3

Previous chapter

Home hadn’t felt this uneasy since Henrik had appeared on their doorstep, bloody, bruised, and scarred. He had screamed when his brothers, his family, tried to touch him. Seeing Marvin in a similar— albeit much less physically harmed— manner stopped Jackie and Chase from attempting any sort of comforting aside from fetching blankets and whatever else Jameson asked of them. Henrik had disappeared altogether, but no one could blame him.

Marvin sat on the couch next to JJ, his legs tucked under him and his hands clutching his mug like a lifeline. His eyes gazed vacantly at the wall in front of him. Marvin? Jameson tapped the magician’s shoulder lightly. He flinched. I’m going to put on some music, is that alright? Nod. JJ smiled. I hope you don’t mind my old-fashioned tastes! Easy jazz began to play in the background.

“Reminds me of the day you were created,” Marvin spoke, his voice sounding slightly raspy. “You had no idea who we were…” A light smile crept onto his features.

And no idea how anything worked! I remember when Jackie gave me quite a fright the first time he turned on the television!

“We had to explain that a phone wasn’t magic like you,” Chase chimed in, coming to sit next to his two brothers. “But Marvin helped you learn, right?” he nudged the magician gently. “Because we’re all here for each other.”

Silence filled the room, interrupted only by the soft music.

Finally, Marvin broke the quiet. “You’re right,” he said simply. “And I need to be here for you guys. Should… should we get Henrik? He should hear this.”

Jackie went to fetch the doctor, and when the two returned, Marvin began his story. He spoke slowly, telling of the magic he had used to find the glitch, and how Anti had used the spell to capture Marvin. Time seemed broken there, he told his brothers, like how an hour felt like a day, or even a week. “It was bright, I think. I think he messed with my head, I can’t remember much. Just him… laughing, taunting me, hurting me, hurting you guys.”

“It is vhat he does,” Schneep admitted. “You are lucky you vere able to escape. How did you do it?” His voice sounded suspicious.

“You don’t trust me?” Marvin reeled, hurt. “Why the hell would I lie about something like this, Schneep? I don’t know how I got out! He let me go, maybe. I don’t know! How did you get out?” He pointed a finger accusingly. “How do we know you aren’t possessed or something!”

Henrik fixed a cold stare on his brother. “I vas possessed. I was forced to ki- I vas forced to hurt the people I care about! I vas tortured for nine months by zhat monster and you zhink I have no right to be even the slightest bit cautious?”

Marvin, Henrik, please! Jameson cried. Don’t you see this is exactly what he wants? His face fell. I… I do not think this was a good idea. Please, gentlemen, let’s just retire to our rooms until we can think reasonably. He turned to Marvin, his hands clenched together. He grabbed his pocket watch and rubbed his fingers over the engraved metal, a nervous habit. Marvin, if you need anything, my door is open to you. He faced Henrik. And you as well. I’ll pick up the place, then come check on all of you to see if we can continue this conversation a little more peacefully.

“Are you sure you won’t need any help?” Jackie asked. “Our mess has been accumulating for a while now.”

Quite, Jameson forced a smile. Some work is just what I need to clear my head. When the room finally emptied, Jameson heaved a silent sigh. I suppose I should have just kept my nose out of others’ business. He pocketed his watch and took the now-cold mugs of tea from the coffee table. The jazz faded out. Running water became the new background noise while Jameson cleared the living room and washed dishes. When he finished that task, he started to fold blankets, using busy work to keep his busy mind at bay. Imagine how much more of a nuisance I would be if I weren’t a cripple, he thought morosely.

“A̴w̸,̵ ̵d̷o̶e̶s̴ ̷t̴h̸e̶ ̷p̵u̷p̶p̵e̴t̴ ̷n̶e̶e̶d̶ ̵a̵ ̶m̶a̸s̴t̸e̶r̶ ̵t̴o̴ ̸g̸u̵i̴d̸e̵ ̸h̵i̸s̴ ̵s̸t̴r̴i̸n̴g̵s̶?” A voice behind Jameson giggled. The room grew cold.

What…? How are you here? Jameson asked numbly. His s̸t̷r̴i̶n̵g̸s̸ brain wouldn’t let him run, kept him rooted where he stood. He couldn’t move, couldn’t turn, who was there? It had to be Anti, no one else taunted the egos like that, but he shouldn’t— couldn’t— be here, he wasn’t supposed to able to break through the barriers Marvin had put up!

Oh, no… It clicked.

“D̸i̵d̸ ̵t̸h̷e̴ ̸p̸u̸p̷p̶e̵t̷ ̷f̵i̴n̷a̴l̴l̷y̶ ̴u̶s̸e̶ ̵i̵t̵s̸ ̷b̸r̴a̸i̴n̶?”

Jameson turned, slowly, praying he was wrong. But the sight that stood in front of the mute, grinning and laughing and demonic, only confirmed his fears. Marvin— his brother— flexed his fingers, a demon in a new body trying to adjust. His eyes were the worst sight. The mask that had always seemed so familiar was now filled with static, flickering with Anti’s glitches. “N̴e̵v̵e̵r̴ ̴t̶h̵o̴u̵g̴h̵t̸ ̷t̸h̵e̵ ̶k̷i̵t̸t̴e̶n̵ ̴w̷o̸u̶l̴d̴ ̷b̴e̵ ̴s̸o̵ ̶f̵o̵n̶d̴ ̵o̸f̵ ̴l̸o̵n̶g̴ ̵h̶a̴i̴r̸,” Anti purred. “B̴u̵t̶ ̴o̸h̷ ̸w̷e̵l̵l̷, i̷t̵’̸s̸ ̴n̵o̶ ̷f̷u̴n̶ ̸i̵f̷ ̵a̷l̴l̸ ̷m̶y̷ ̴t̷o̴y̵s̷ ̵a̷r̷e̸ ̷t̶h̵e̵ ̵s̴a̴m̴e̷.”

L-let him go, you monster! Jameson tried to shout. His speech slide wavered, showing his already obvious fear. He attempted to conjure a weapon with his magic, but terror— why am I so afraid? I’m useless to Marvin like this— kept his charms far out of reach.

The demon fixed mad eyes on Jameson. The room fell deathly silent. “Shame,” Anti cackled, his head lurching to the side with a sickening crack. With agonizing slowness, he conjured a knife, and began to slide it over Marvin’s neck. Blood, red and staticky, dripped to the floor. “I had hoped you would at least put up a fight.” He started to stalk across the floor. “No,” he stopped himself, eyes bright with horrible glee. “How about we welcome your dear Marvin the Magnificent to the stage instead?”

Static fled and the eyes returned to their normal baby blue. The gaping wound on his neck closed, leaving only a faint red line. Marvin…? JJ started. Marvin’s head snapped towards him, and JJ flinched, afraid.

“Jamie,” he said. Marvin’s dazed eyes looked back at Jameson; he looked defeated. “I’m so sorry,” his voice wobbled. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t stop him…” He took a step forward. Jameson took one back. Marvin paused, his face showed his hurt, anger, and guilt. “But, I’m back now, right? We can get Schneep to patch me up, put me under lock and key. I’ll cast a few spells!” He laughed desperately.

How do I know this isn’t just some trick?

Marvin smiled sadly. “Yeah, I guess it does look too good to be true. Look at my eyes, if there’s any static, you’ll know it isn’t me.”

Jameson shook his head, and began to take careful steps towards the door, making sure to keep his eyes on the potential threat. No, I’m quite certain this situation requires more than just a glance from me. He went to turn the doorknob, but Marvin quickly stopped him.

The magician wrenched the mute’s hand away. “Look at me!” he growled, forcing Jamie to stare into his eyes. The swirling pools of mesmerizing blue and green pinned Jamie where he stood. “Look at me,” he repeated, lowering his voice into a gentle whisper. “Do you really have so little faith in your brother?”

The longer Jamie looked, the more intent he was on proving that Marvin was indeed still possessed. But he found nothing. Deeper and deeper down he went into those magnificent eyes, and he still couldn’t find any static, but the deeper he went the less he cared. I suppose my decision may have been a little hasty, he admitted blearily.

“Good,” Marvin cooed. “You t̴r̴u̵s̴t̶ me, don’t you? You trust I know what’s best, so you’ll do w̵h̷a̷t̷e̴v̷e̸r̸ I say, right? Because I’m your big brother. I a̸l̸w̷a̸y̸s̴ know what to do.”

Yes.

So trapped was Jameson in those wonderfully soothing baby blues he didn’t notice when his body started to slump, his muscles relaxing without his permission. But that was okay. He had Marv̴in here to protect him. It didn’t matter that Marvin had a bloody gash in his neck, he was still capable of protecting his baby brother. Marvin took his hand and led him to the kitchen counter. He took a seat, but something was wrong. His eyes felt so heavy, he could barely keep them open. “Not yet,” Marvin warned, forcing Jameson’s glazed eyes wide. “I need you to do one thing for me.”

Anything.

“Good.” He smiled as he pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. Jameson tried to grab the pen, but it was difficult. His hand was clumsy, and Marvin’s own hand kept glitching away. “My c̶o̴d̶e̴ gets a little f̵e̸i̸s̵t̴y̷ when it’s been suppressed. M̶a̷g̸i̷c̸'s̵ ̶a̴ ̴b̴i̸t̶c̶h̶,̶ ̷h̶u̴h̵?” With some difficulty, Jameson finally managed to take the pen and waited. “I need you to write down e̶x̴a̵c̶t̴l̴y̶ what I say.

“Dear Jackie, Chase, and Henrik,

JJ here and I have decided that it would be best if we left for a little while. Don’t worry, he’s perfectly s̵a̷f̴e̸ with me. You three, on the other hand… Well, let’s not spoil the fun too soon. You know how to find me.

Love, b̸i̵g̶ ̵b̴r̷o̵t̷h̸e̷r̸.”

Jameson left the note on the counter. M̷a̸r̴v̸i̷n̵ A̷n̵t̶i̵ stroked his head, and smiled. “Y̵o̵u̵'v̵e̸ d̷o̷n̵e̸ ̶s̸o̵ ̴w̷e̵l̸l̴, p̷u̴p̶p̵e̶t̷. I̶ m̶i̴s̷s̶e̷d̷ ̴h̴o̸l̴d̷i̵n̸g̶ ̸y̷o̷u̴r̵ ̸s̶t̴r̶i̶n̶g��s̸. N̸o̷w̴ ̴c̵o̷m̶e̸ ̷w̶i̸t̸h̸ ̵m̶e̵, I̷ ̴h̸a̴v̶e̷ ̶s̴o̷m̶e̷o̵n̵e̵ ̴y̸o̴u̵ s̸h̴o̶u̷l̴d̸ m̶e̴e̸t̴."

~~~~~~~~~~

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sam-lives-story · 5 years

Text

#SamLives - Chapter 7

“A Study In Belief”

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Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

“What was it you were saying about belief, on the phone?”

With all the stress of what had happened in the apartment, Mark had suggested he and Jack go out and grab lunch somewhere in Brighton. Jack, of course, had vehemently agreed. So here they were, currently hiding away in the corner of some coffee shop, eating sandwiches and - in Jack’s case - drinking coffee like he might just die if he didn’t. Mark had brought the mesh pet carrier along, so every few minutes he could sneak bits of food in for Tim to munch on while Jack did the same with Sam in his pocket.

“…how the hell does Sam even eat?” Mark had asked, to which Jack had just shrugged.

“Absorbs it, sort of. I dunno. I stopped tryin’ to make sense of him the day I found out he can fly.”

“He can FLY?!”

And, oh, the looks they had received after that outburst…

“Belief?” Mark repeated, slipping another piece of his crust to Tim. He snickered. “You mean when I was trying to draw parallels between life changing events and a videogame?”

“Yeah, that,” Jack chuckled a little himself. “You were talkin’ about Bendy, right? Joey Drew? His whole insane monologue with belief and cheating death an’ stuff?”

“Well it wasn’t that insane…”

“It was a little insane. I’m pretty sure he started a cult.”

“Okay, yes, in that context it was pretty nuts. But – hey, don’t laugh! This is some serious shit!”

Jack tried to stifle his laughter, hiding his grin behind his cup of coffee even as he saw Mark trying to do the same.

“Sorry!” he giggled. “Sorry, continue with your serious shit. I’m listening.”

“Thank you!”

Mark sighed dramatically as a waitress walked past their table, making a big show of gesturing at Jack with both hands.

“This guy! Never lets me get a word in edgewise, always making fun of me! Worst friend ever.”

“Hey, I’m your best friend, you said so yourself,” Jack retorted while the waitress giggled to herself. “Now get on with your “belief” rant. I’m waiting.”

“Okay! Okay!” Mark rolled his eyes and leaned forward across the table, lowering his voice for dramatic effect.

“Belief. It can do amazing, impossible things. It can bring together hoards of people or help a single man reach stardom. With enough belief a lone YouTuber might even be able to reach the highest shelf in the kitchen even though he’s always been too damn short to get to it–”

“Is there a point to all this?” Jack was really fighting laughter now. “By Jaysus…”

“Sorry, serious face. Serious shit.” Mark tried to pass off a laugh as a cough and took a sip from his coffee, smiling all the while. “Actually serious this time. I promise.”

“Thank God.”

“Okay. So.” Mark glanced around to make sure nobody at the nearby tables was listening in before starting. “So in Bendy and the Ink Machine, Joey Drew was talking about how belief can do impossible things. Like, just belief, by itself.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Jack nodded, holding his steaming cup of coffee beneath his face to warm himself up a little. “I’ve played it before. A lot, actually.”

“Just so you could hear your own voice in the game,” Mark scoffed.

“Hey! No! That is not the only reason!” Jack protested, pointing a finger accusingly at Mark. “Serious shit, remember?”

“Yeah, okay, serious shit.” Mark schooled his expression. “Anyway. Tim showed up a few years ago. At the time, it scared the shit out of me, because how the hell do you explain to somebody that your imaginary character from YouTube suddenly came to life in the middle of your recording session and you have no idea how or why he’s there?”

“I feel ya,” Jack muttered knowingly, passing another piece of sandwich into his pocket for Sam.

“Right. So he showed up and I just kind of…accepted it? Because he’s my little biscuit, and he was so scared and nervous, and how could I leave him alone when he needed me? And it wasn’t like he was causing trouble. It was like suddenly having a…well, a pet, kind of. Or a baby, but less needy.”

“A familiar?” Jack murmured into his coffee, taking a sip.

“YES! Yes, exactly!” Mark snapped and pointed at Jack, nodding. “That’s exactly what it’s like! So, ya know, there was nothing bad about it. So I never really got around to figuring out how he came to be. But then…” Mark lowered his voice and ran a hand through his hair, glancing around. Double checking. Jack started bouncing his knee beneath the table, his nerves getting the best of him. “…weird things started happening, more recently. And I mean like - in the past six or seven months, recently. Before I even knew Sam existed.”

“What kinds of weird things?” Jack asked tensely.

Mark opened his mouth, closed it, and stared down into his drink. He didn’t speak for a moment, the brief pause filled only be the sound of dishes clinking and the soft babble of other conversations carrying through the cafe. Sam shifted in Jack’s hoodie pocket, getting more comfortable.

Then Mark cleared his throat and shook his head, his train of thought changing for a moment.

“I’ve…er…been thinking about it a lot more recently. Why Tim even exists, I mean.” Mark swallowed thickly. “With the things I’ve been seeing, I’ve had my suspicions for a few months now, but nothing solid ever came of it on my end. I never had proof. So when you called me about Anti…well I knew I had to be right, or at least thinking in the right direction.”

“What th’ hell are you talkin’ about?” Jack asked. His words came out a little more sharply than he intended, and Mark winced. Brown eyes raised to lock onto blue.

“…the truth is, I don’t think Anti is the only one who exists now,” Mark told him. He sounded hesitant, as though a little scared to even say it.

“Who else do you think exists?” Jack asked. “Besides Sam and Tim and Anti, I mean.”

“Dark.”

“Darkiplier?” Jack hissed, and Mark shushed him quickly, looking around. Jack lowered his voice to a loud whisper and leaned forward across the table. “Darkiplier? Like, wears a suit, red-and-blue, creepy evil-you Darkiplier?”

“What other Darkiplier would I be referring to?” Mark whispered back sharply, gesturing wildly with his hands. “Yes, Darkiplier! Evil-Me!”

“Darkiplier and A...Antisepticeye. Holy fuckin’ hell…” Jack sank back in his chair and dragged a hand over his face, his exhaustion seeping through to the surface. “Christ almighty. Both of ‘em. This…this is ridiculous…”

A little hysterical giggle escaped him. It slowly built into a distressed groan and he let out a few dramatic, fake, whining sobs.

“Maaaark, we’re gonna diiiiie….” He folded his arms on the table and let his head fall onto them with a muffled thump. He whimpered dramatically. “Th’ hell are we supposed to do noooow?” He dragged his head up just enough to look at Mark’s face through his hair. “…you’re sure he’s actually real?”

Mark had been watching the entire display with an expression that fell between tense nervousness and humor-lined disbelief.

“About ninety percent,” he shrugged, still keeping his voice down. “I keep…hearing my own voice when I’m getting a drink in the middle of the night. Or I keep seeing red and blue out of the corner of my eye. Things keep moving from their spot when I’m not looking, and I know it’s not just Amy moving things and not telling me because it happens between glances when nobody else is in the room. It’s weird.”

“You haven’t actually seen him though?” Jack asked, confused, his chin resting on his arms now. “The...er...the glitch has been showin’ face as often as possible, jus’ not when I’m actually looking. The stream last night was the first time he…”

Jack trailed off and looked away, gripping his own arms tightly to keep the memory at bay. Sam sent a little mental hug along through his thoughts and Jack was more than grateful for it.

“Yeah, I know,” Mark said softly. There was understanding in his tone and he quickly tried to move forward in the conversation.

“See that’s the thing,” he said enthusiastically, leaning forward across the table. “Dark and Anti are different. They’re both - well, evil, I guess. But they’re different people, different characters. Anti seems to like a spectacle. He likes being seen, and he wants as many people to see him on screen as possible. He seems to like showing off. Which…I mean, it’s just a theory–”

“A game theory?” Jack muttered automatically, and Mark blew a raspberry at him.

“No. Shut up.” He blinked, glanced away. “…where was I?”

“It’s just a theory?” Jack suggested with a soft smirk.

“…yeeeaaaah,” Mark nodded slowly, then quicker when he found his train of thought again. “Yeah! Okay. So it’s just a theory, but I think that’s why he’s only been showing up in your videos but not anywhere else. Not yet anyway.”

“He’s been in my videos more than I’ve been uploading actually,” Jack told him, shifting in his seat and resting his head sideways on his arms now. He watched the steam rise from his coffee cup on the table. “I think I mentioned before...I kept cuttin’ him out before sending stuff to Robin because I didn’t want people to think I was plannin’ anything. I’ve got stuff coming up next month but…not yet.”

“Oh yeah, Anti mentioned that when he showed up last night,” Mark muttered. It sounded like he was thinking. “He didn’t sound too happy about you taking him out of your videos. That’s probably why he made such a scene on the stream. He had a hell of an audience.”

“What about Dark?” Jack asked, trying to switch gears. He really didn’t want to think about the stream right now, didn’t want to talk about it. His throat was still sore from what Anti had done to him.

“Dark’s more subtle,” Mark said quietly. “He works behind the scenes. He doesn’t deal with face-to-face conflict as much. He mostly sticks to the shadows. I mean, I gave him his backstory, I should know this.” Jack heard him pause. “…honestly, it makes me wonder if ‘Who Killed Markiplier’ wasn’t a horrible, horrible idea.”

“…why?” Jack sat up, frowning, looking up at Mark…and he was a little surprised to see the genuine worry that had set in across Mark’s face. He was dragging a hand over his mouth and staring down at his plate, lost in thought, a worried crease furrowing his brow.

“Mark? You okay man?”

“I was talking about belief before,” Mark said after a long moment, his hand falling into his lap. “It’s the theory I have for why Sam and Tim exist, and it’s the same theory that applies to Anti and Dark.”

“You still haven’t explained what you meant by that.”

“How many subscribers do you have?”

The question threw Jack for a moment and he stared at Mark in baffled silence before answering.

“…what? Uh…I dunno, ‘bout eighteen million.”

“Eighteen million people,” Mark repeated. “And how many of them probably know who Sam is?”

“A lot of ‘em. Almost all of them, most likely.”

“And Anti?”

“Not as many, but…I mean still, the number’s in the millions.”

“That’s a lot of people, all centered around one YouTube channel, all looking for another sign of Anti showing up. All drawing art or making little plushies for Sam. A lot of them probably want to believe it’s real even though logic tells them it isn’t.”

“…what are you saying?” Jack asked slowly, still trying to follow Mark’s explanation. Mark looked up, worry still etched in his gaze.

“I don’t know how, but I think…having that many people thinking about the same thing, believing the same thing? I think it’s powerful enough to make it real.”

An inexplicable chill ran down Jack’s spine.

“…that’s…that’s insane….” he breathed, shaking his head.

“Is it though?” Mark insisted, still trying to keep his voice low. “Think about it! Sam showed up how long ago? A few years ago, right?” Jack nodded mutely. “Same as Tim. Back then, they were the only real characters that had any sort of solidity on our channels! The fan base made Darkiplier and Antisepticeye, but it wasn’t until after we made them real that they started showing up in the real world. Weird stuff started happening around the time my friends and I had the idea for ‘Who Killed Markiplier’. It was after ‘A Date With Markiplier’, and after ‘Darkiplier vs Antisepticeye’. Like, not long after the second one, actually. Which I thought was kind of weird at the time but…I mean I figured it was nothing. Except…I don’t think that’s the case anymore…”

Somebody dropped a plate back in the kitchen and both Jack and Mark jumped, two pairs of wide eyes flying toward the source of the disturbance. Jack let out a shaking breath and sank in his chair, letting out a quiet groan.

“God…the stress an’ fear is gonna kill me long before that glitch manages to do it.”

“Tell me about it,” Mark muttered. He was gripping the table’s edge so tightly his knuckles were white.

“Mark…?”

Tim’s voice sounded quietly from inside his carrier and Mark ducked a little so he could see into it.

“What’s up buddy?”

Jack tossed a glance over his shoulder to make sure nobody was looking their way.

“You okay?” Tim asked softly. “You sound scared.”

“Yeah of course I’m okay,” Mark murmured hurriedly. He rested his hand on the front edge of the carrier’s opening and Jack saw a tiny mitten-shaped hand poke out from the shadows. He smiled softly. “Don’t worry buddy. Ol’ Markimoo just got scared by a plate. Kinda silly, right?”

“Super silly.”

Tim giggled from his hiding spot and Mark shushed him softly, chuckling to himself a bit and looking around. Nobody was paying them any mind. After letting the pair have a few moments of comfort, Jack cleared his throat.

“What were you talking about before?” he asked in an undertone. Mark tore his eyes away from the pet carrier to look at Jack again. His smile slowly fell.

“…oh, right.” He kept one hand at the carrier’s opening as he continued his explanation. “I thought it was a little weird, how strange things started to happen around me after we made that Anti vs Dark video. An entire video dedicated, rather jokingly, to our dark alter egos, and then I start seeing weird things? Hearing things? But looking back it makes a lot of sense.” He jabbed his finger toward his phone, which was sitting on the table. “That’s when the fanbase got a spike in Dark and Anti interest. The amount of hype that video got was ridiculous.”

“It got a lot of attention from Septiplier shippers too,” Jack pointed out, snickering a little. Mark opened his mouth, closed it, and rolled his eyes.

“Okay, yeah, that too,” he agreed. He was trying not to smile. “But regardless. Anti and Dark were getting a lot more attention all of a sudden. Dark only showed up first because he’s been around for longer.”

“Okay, woah, wait,” Jack help up a hand. “I’m stoppin’ you right there. I brought my evil alter-ego into my videos for the entire month of October back in 2016. ‘Say Goodbye’ was his, like, big reveal. You didn’t start usin’ Dark in your videos until ‘A Date With Markiplier’.” He pointed at Mark. “An’ trust me, I know my shit, because I got a ton of messages from people askin’ if I was pissed about you copyin’ me.”

“Copying you?!” Mark spluttered. “What the hell? No! Nonono!” He scooted his chair closer to the table. “Okay. Rewind, back to the beginning of my entire YouTube career. I used to make these random creepy short videos for fun when I first started on YouTube, and that’s where the whole “Darkiplier” thing came from. Those videos were around waaaay before you even got your little boost from Felix.”

Jack laughed.

“Excuse me, are we makin’ jabs about channel popularity now?”

“Well – no, I only meant – Dark was a thing way before Anti was, okay? That’s all I’m saying!”

“But you just had to slip in that little “boost from Felix” comment didn’t ya?”

Jack was fighting off laughter now, snickering to himself, and he could see Mark was doing the same.

“Well sorry! Geez! Just trying to make a point sorry if I hurt your feelings.” Mark scoffed and folded his arms over his chest, being dramatic, tossing his hair in a show of sass. “Whatever, man.”

“God, you’re such a drama queen!” Jack finally let out, laughing openly and leaning back in his chair. He heard a small giggle from Sam in his head too. “Fine, okay, point made. Moving on. Lord above, we’re horrible at staying on topic…”

“We’re the worst,” Mark agreed, chuckling a little. It built into a fuller laugh and he ruffled a hand through his hair, fixing his floof. “Sorry. Serious shit, right?”

“Yeah, heh,” Jack nodded, grinning. “Serious shit. Okay.”

“What I meant,” Mark planted both palms on the table, “was that Darkiplier had more buildup than Anti did by the time Dark started showing up. Because Darkiplier spawned from years of me posting creepy content at random intervals, his creation was a slower progression than what you did with Anti. Dark’s early appearances weren’t planned the way your Halloween event was. But when I uploaded two videos within four months of each other that both features Dark as a main character, then I hinted at having plans for Friday the 13th, it really isn’t any surprise that the fanbase got a little hooked on the idea of him showing up again.”

“Okay, fair point,” Jack nodded. He sipped at his now-chilled coffee and made a face. He’d have to get another fresh cup soon. “So what about the...er...glitch?”

“I thought about that too,” Mark nodded. “That video you made for Halloween, where he killed you? That was his first appearance on your channel. That whole month was about him. So that more than makes up for the fact that he didn’t exist in your videos before then. And then you did nothing with him for a while, no hints or anything. Then we made ‘Darkiplier vs Antisepticeye’, and even though it was a joke it gained a lot of attention. Then….” Mark paused and frowned. “What was it you did next?”

“It was two months between that one and ‘Kill Jacksepticeye’,” Jack muttered. “There weren’t any hints leading up to that either. I just thought it’d be a cool video, so I filmed it as if my doctor persona was trying to save me from A...Anti. Which…didn’t go well, because I died in the game.”

This entire conversation would have been rather hilarious in another context, in a context where Anti wasn’t a very real, very tangible threat. Jack probably would have laughed at the silliness of his own wording.

“Doctor…what’s his name?” Mark asked. “Sheeple?”

“Dr. Henrik Von Schneeplestien,” Jack smirked a little, putting on the accent for show. “Zhe very best surgeon, 100% real doctor. Everybody knows zhat he is vonderful at his job~” He winked.

Mark snorted.

“Oh my god, is that really how he acts?”

“Oh yeah,” Jack nodded, grinning a little, his mood lifting in the moment. “It’s a little ridiculous but, god, he’s fun to play.”

“What happened in the video?”

“Schneep didn’t save me, like I said,” Jack shrugged. “He got corrupted by Anti and…well, he didn’t die. I played it off like he did, but he didn’t, because I’m plannin’ on bringing him back. Then Anti said he’d be back again soon and that’s the last I did with him.”

“Really?” Mark frowned, looking confused. “But there’s all this hype on Tumblr right now, about Anti and Doctor…Sheep-guy.” Jack rolled his eyes at the name. “What’s that about?”

“Just fanbase hype, I guess,” Jack shrugged. “The game I was playing had dates in it – I mean in the actual gameplay – and people keep sayin’ things like… “Ohhh, it’s March 5th, that’s the day Jack died in the game, ohhhh he must be plannin’ something–” …but I didn’t even pay attention to those dates honestly.” He chuckled a little, scratching at the back of his head. “I’ve been messin’ with people though, because of it. There was this whole ‘WHERE IS DOCTOR SCHNEEP’ meme goin’ ‘round, so I kept making references to doctors in my videos. Figured it’d be fun to mess with the community a little.”

The Irishman was grinning all the while, more than just enjoying the fact that he was setting his own community on fire and pouring gasoline over the flames.

“That’s what did it.”

“…hm?” Jack brought his focus back to center and found Mark chewing on his thumb with that same thoughtful look on his face, the one that Jack was beginning to associate with deep, complex problem solving. “What did what?”

“That…that theory hype. The anniversary of your ‘death’,” he made air quotes. Something occurred to him in that moment and his entire expression changed, his eyes widening and his mouth dropping open in a gasp. “OH! Ohohoh! And Sam! #SamLives! Oh, my god, how did I not see that before…?”

“What th’ hell are you on about now?” Jack asked flatly, suddenly very aware of the little eyeball who was shifting in his hoodie pocket.

“People were already hyped about Anti before Sam showed up in your video, right?” Mark said, gesturing wildly with his hands. “Right??”

“Right, yes,” Jack stammered out quickly. “What about it?”

“And then Sam’s there, and suddenly Sam exists, and #SamLives goes trending and –”

And suddenly Jack caught on, his own eyes widening almost comically.

“Oh my god.”

“See???”

“Oh my god!” Jack clutched at his hair with both hands, the revelation leaving his mind whirling. “People believed that Sam was real, so they started to wonder–”

“If Anti couldn’t be real too!” Mark finished for him, leaning so far forward in his seat it was a wonder he hadn’t fallen out of it. “People always want the egos - the personas - whatever, our characters to really exist so they can meet them. And despite all logic pointing toward them being fictional–”

“There’s enough belief there and enough people with that belief to make it real and – holy shit, I accidentally used YouTube to bring a demon to life.”

“…okay, yes, that’s probably true, but – but still! Dude! DUDE! This is insanely cool! Horrifying and terrifying and fucking insane but also so fucking cool!”

“Oh Gooood…” Jack dropped his face into his hands and let out a muffle grumble. “…fuck my life. We’re talkin’ about some demon-glitch-bitch who wants ta kill me an’ my best friend thinks it’s cool.”

“Hey, woah, I didn’t say it wasn’t bad,” Mark quickly corrected. “It’s pretty bad! It’s…really, really bad. But–” He glanced around, then leaned forward and lowered his voice. “But Jack – Seán – we’re talking about something impossible here. Something that can’t be explained away by science, even with all the logic we’ve managed to attach to it. These characters shouldn’t even exist, but somehow they do. Tell me that doesn’t at least sound a little bit amazing to you?”

Jack didn’t deign to reply, instead letting out another muffle groan and rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. After a long moment of silence he sighed and pushed away from the table, standing up and holding out his hand to Mark.

“...I should call my Ma. I texted her earlier but…I just...I wanna hear her voice.”

Mark watched him for a few seconds before nodding. He dug around in his pockets and brought out Jack’s phone, which he’d been holding onto since they left the apartment. He held it out for Jack to take and there was a brief moment, a very brief and very tense moment, during which neither of them was sure if the Irishman would actually grab the phone. Jack’s hand was shaking a little, his mouth pressed into a thin line, his expression stiff. Then he plucked it from Mark’s hand before he could change his mind.

Technology, it seemed, was becoming a newfound fear of his, and not one he thought would ever exist for him. His life was technology. His livelihood and his income spawned from technology…but so too had his newfound greatest fear. His greatest threat.

Jack swallowed thickly, nodded to Mark with a shaking smile, and stepped just outside the cafe to make the call. His back pressed against the cool brick of the building and he let his head fall back against the wall, eyes closed and phone held to his ear with a still-shaking hand. All the while Sam sat curled up in his pocket and gentle soothing waves of thoughts and comfort crossed through their mental link. Jack took a breath.

“Ma? Hey...y-yeah...yeah, I’m fine. What? No, nothing happened...I just miss you. I love you too…”

[A/N] Back from con! Sorry for the delay in getting this one posted, but Convention Crunch really took its hold! Either way, here’s the pseudo-explanation for why Anti is coming to life. Same with Sam and Tim and…well. You get the idea. :3 Hopefully it makes sense, and hopefully it’s not too long-winded. Critiques welcome!

(*AHEM* At this point I hope you all realize I’m literally copy-pasting all my old Author’s Notes from the old chapter posts into the new updated ones and not even giving a fuck lmao...just pretend I’m “keeping it authentic to the original posts” because that’s probably half the reason I haven’t changed them xD)

Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

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[Chapter List]

#SamLives #Sam Lives #Jacksepticeye #Markiplier #Antisepticeye #Sam Septiceye #Sam #Mark #Jack #Anti #Robin #Chapters #7 #A Study In Belief #JSE #JSE FanFic #Jacksepticeye Fanfic

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franklyshipping · 6 years

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Marvin The Mischievous ~ A Septic Ego Series ~ Part 7

Things are hotting up in the series now as we come to out next part, now....lets see how Jackie-Boy Man fares against our aspiring cheeky villain. LET'S HECKIN GO PEOPLE!

TAGGING: @marvin-lee-magician @jackleeboy-man @the-dapper-switch @robbie-lee-zombie @robbie-the-zomblee @schneeplesteinthetickledoctor @chase-brody-thelee @the-survivelee-hunter @shawn-flynn-the-switch @shawnflynn-thetoymake-ler @anti-switch-glitch

Productive days are always pretty marvellous, you're engaged in your tasks and whenever you reach a stage of completion or success it just spurs you to push forward, to pump out thing after thing....and then that feeling of pride you have within yourself is like nothing else in the world. Jackie-Boy Man was enjoying such bliss right now as he wandered over to his exercise machinery in his training room. He'd re-sewed parts of his costume, filed away villain reports and organised them, had a nice lunch, and had organised a proper, safe exercise timetable for himself. He was grinning from ear to ear as he stretched, fully focused on getting into his workout mind-set.....and oblivious as to the events that had preceded this little scene. We can assume that his obliviousness won't last forever though. For now however, he got to work, focusing on biceps and triceps work with rowing, push-ups and light weights, having water and bites of energy bars at regular intervals so that he wouldn't get too tired but he'd also feel that he was testing his body, keeping it strong.

He was moving onto his final activity in this hour long session, pull-ups; they were the most gruelling, which is why he took the utmost care when performing them. He had water and an energy snack at the ready, the music coming from his radio helping to psyche him up as he reached up for the bar.....and began. He had a set order of things, do five pull-ups, stretch and take a drink, do five, stretch and have a snack, do five, drink, you get the idea; he intended to repeat the process until he'd done thirty, then he'd leave it for the day. He knew how to be sensible and not over-exert himself, as a superhero he always worked on maintaining and strengthening his physique and had worked hard to get to a point where his body could take more and more. Jackie was proud, and he deserved to be proud. He was well into his stride, breathing well and focusing on his pace....so he didn't notice that as he continued, the lights in the room started to flicker. It was only when Jackie reached his final five pull-ups that he noticed all was not well; he'd taken time with his snack-bite and looked around the room, and only then noticed the lights properly dimming down at a steady rate. Jackie was about to dismount the exercise and investigate, supposing a fuse was uneven or faltering somewhere; however as soon as the notion came to his mind....everything went downhill for him at once.

One, the lights went out and left the room in complete darkness, two, his radio somehow turned off despite it being wireless, and three.....Jackie couldn't move.

'Wh-what the hell?!'

Before you fret, Jackie's whole body hadn't been immobilised or frozen or anything of the sort....it just wouldn't be able to move away because something had bound Jackie's wrists to his pull-up bar. He was grunting and tugging, straining his eyes to try and gauge what was restraining him, but his mind and body were tired after his exercising so it was practically impossible for him to focus on getting his strength up. He'd been trapped at the perfect time of weakness.

'Okayokayokay think think c'mon Jackie think.....'

He forced his mind to whirr. This couldn't be the plot of one of his villains, primarily because he made sure none of them knew where he lived, but also because this didn't match any of their intimidation styles. Mainly because those villains HAD no style....whoever this was, they had flare and dramatics up their sleeve. He sighed. His mind jumped to Anti, ever the miscreant pulling tricks and the like; it made sense to him.

'Alright glitch bitch, c'mon joke's over!'

.....no reply. Huh. He was always the first to take credit for a wrongdoing, he was always proud of his own cheekiness after all. Jackie pursed his lips, thinking over it all again....maybe....maybe he'd been wrong. There had been no creepy, crackly laughter, no static from his radio; these were Anti's classic tactics, why would he abandon them now? Jackie huffed in frustration at his own brain as he thought-

'Boo.....'

'AHWHATTHEHELL?!'

Jackie jumped and yelped at the sudden whisper, shuddering as he felt the breath of the whisperer right over his ear and neck....behind him. Someone was standing behind him. The culprit was behind him. His....captor, was behind him. Jackie shivered again when the mysterious figure chuckled.

'Sorry to disappoint, but there's no glitch here.'

The voice of the man was deep, purring, smooth....just as Marvin intended. Yes, it was really him. No fancy tools or spells. Marvin had brainstormed so many plans and ideas and concepts for how to get Jackie.....but no thought was more satisfying than the notion of gliding his fingertips all over every weak spot he could find. Jackie meanwhile let out a grunt, trying to twist round to catch a glimpse of who it was, but he had no luck; Marvin began to drawl tauntingly.

'Finally, the great Jackie-Boy Man in my grasp....I can't wait to add you to my list of success.'

Marvin's eyes glittered deviously as he watched Jackie twist and squirm before him, he had to admit it was quite a beautiful sight. Jackie meanwhile was trying to get his head round this. A list. He wasn't the first to be involved in this presumably, but he wouldn't be able to understand what was happening until he got more information first....or rather, tried to.

'Who the hell are you? Why are you here? What are you planning?'

Jackie endeavoured to project boldness and insistence; lesson one of a captive situation, assert your own strength. However instead of making his captor feel taken aback, it seemed to merely amuse him.

'So many questions, but no answers for you, as of yet anyway.'

Jackie growled in frustration at how smug the person seemed, and tried even harder to look behind him; that made Marvin tut and sigh with exaggerated exasperation.

'And I'll be having none of that thank you very much!'

Marvin's cold fingers found the edges of Jackie's vest, and with much protesting, pulled it up over Jackie's face....so he could see nothing. The hero shivered when he felt his torso become exposed, and this blindfolding action made the previous darkness of the room feel like a blessing....this darkness was close, real, and intimidating. All that could be heard was Jackie's shaky breathing as he whispered.

'......wh-what are you g-gonna do to me?'

Oh how Marvin had longed to be posed that question. He leant in behind Jackie, and rested his chin on the hero's shoulder. He hesitated, just so he could listened to Jackie's hitching breaths and feel the warmth of his skin after his exercises, so soft and warm and beautiful-Marvin sharply inhaled. He needed to focus. He let out a small hum into Jackie's ear as he took a fingertip, and dragged it down one of his hollows.

'I'm going to make you my sweet victim, make you submit and crumble and wail for mercy....'

Jackie flinched and bit his lip, already wearing a flustered, shaky smile as he understood what his captor wanted to do to him. That single finger ignited the rest of Jackie's nervous system, as if every vulnerable place on his body was priming and preparing itself for what was to come. Jackie already knew he couldn't be defiant.....he knew the things that broke him, and this was weakness number one; he whimpered when Marvin continued to purr.

'I am going to tickle you until it's all your mind will ever know.'

Marvin was smirking softly against Jackie's ear, and he chuckled at Jackie's weak reply.

'......wh-why?'

Jackie waited with bated breath.

'Because it is the only thing....that I truly desire.'

Jackie-Boy Man was an instant mess of giggles....now, it had begun. Two hands were at work, ten fingers having their playtime. They were so light as they started at his hollows, swirling a few times before dragging themselves down, down, down, his ribs, playing them like a xylophone. After a bout of skittering at Jackie's delectable sides, they thus rose back up and merely continued to the process. Every time Jackie thought to himself....this time, this cycle, this sequence must be the last, he must be getting bored? But it didn't stop.

'P-Plehehease nohot thihihis plehease i-it'stoomuch!'

Marvin was grinning from ear to ear, still keeping his and Jackie's bodies close as he kept up his technique. He knew Jackie well you see, and he knew that intensity wasn't always the key to getting what you wanted. It was patience, knowledge....and having a good set of words.

'Poor hero, so affected by such lightness and what some may even consider a soothing touch....you're such a delicate thing aren't you?'

Jackie's cheeks burned as he shook his head, no no no he was strong and resilient, hard as nails.....hm. Though, with the way he squirmed and quivered and babbled the word please, perhaps he was more akin to being as soft as feathers.

'Nohohoho n-nohoho t-thahat's wrohohong!'

Marvin, unseen by Jackie, raised an amused eyebrow, and proceeded to let his lips brush Jackie's neck as he murmured in a growl-like tone.

'Wrong eh? So it doesn't make your heart quiver to think of how exposed you are in my grasp? How I could strike, change action, or do something on a whim....at any moment?'

Marvin was euphoric with the power and joy that came with having Jackie like this, the happiness that came from feeling him squirm and feeling his skin twitch at his touch was just beyond satisfying. Jackie had arched his back and thrown his head back, letting out whimpery wails of desperation as he tried to jerk away from the constant tickling, but it was no use. His captor's words were just the cherry on top because they were precisely true.

'Nohoho ihit f-fuhucking dohohoesn't! C'mohohon juhust lehehet me gohoho!'

At Jackie's whiney begging, Marvin felt his heart jump in his chest....he'd always found Jackie cute and amazingly sweet....but this was a new beauty. A beauty he wanted to see over and over again for as long as he could spend time with him. The hero in question was having a bit of an issue with sight ironically, amidst his squirming he was shaking his head to try and dislodge his vest, but his tormentor had secured it well.

'Oh but this is ever so fun isn't it?! You're so exposed for me, and I may never get another opportunity....so I intend to take my sweet time exploring you, sweet Jackie.'

And explore he did. Jackie was in paranoid ticklish agony, never knowing where his tormentor would tease or prod or scratch next. A stroke with a single finger down his spine made him squeal and jump, a poke to his navel made him snort and let out a half-cackle, and a lick to the shell of his ear made him shiver and bow his head out of embarrassment. This person didn't just tickle him....they ruined him.

'Fuhuhuck EEEK!! STAHAP!! T-TOHOHohoo mahany plahahaces-AHNATFAHAIR!!'

He was a mess of reactions, his vocals just didn't know what to do with themselves....it was frankly extremely adorable. Marvin was chuckling menacingly into Jackie's ear, just because he was having such a good time. Marvin had even stopped thinking about his endeavour....all he thought about was Jackie. He craved more of his laughter, snorts, squeals, begs....it all just sounded infinitely more stunning coming from him.

'You're just cursed with the most sensitive body in the world aren't you? Though....for me it's rather a blessing to see you so desperate.'

As Marvin teased, Jackie wailed. That voice. That deep echoing voice. It seemed everywhere at once, around him, in his mind, like a predator in itself on top of the sporadic strikes to his nerves. They were relentless. A flutter behind his knee made him kick out with a squeak, a nip to his neck made him whimper, a massage to his hip made him whine as he got caught between ticklishness and relaxation. Jackie's mind was caught in a limbo, it couldn't focus, he couldn't focus, and that proved to be most detrimental.

'PLEASEPLEHEHEASE IHIHI Cahahahan't tahahake ihit eheverywhEHERE!!'

Jackie was undoubtedly embarrassed that he was proving his captor's point about how desperate he was, but funnily enough the desperation took precedence within the hero. Marvin hummed and mused.

'Hmmm....but I find this ever so fun....catching you off guard and keeping you on alert. Why should I change my tactic?'

He grinned as he posed the question, tweaking at certain parts of Jackie's ribcage now which made the hero's reply lovely and yelp-filled.

'BehehecAHAUse Ihihi'm beheHEggihing yohohou!!'

Oh that was music to Marvin's ears. Jackie's hidden cheeks were magenta as he wriggled, eyes watery and nerves aching for relief from those dastardly digits of tickle torture. Marvin let out little thoughtful hums in the hero's ear, making a show of pondering as he traced his hipbones.

'Mm, a valid argument. So, instead of treating all of your nerves, would you be agreeable to, say....me choosing one place and remaining there....and only there?'

Jackie nodded without even having processed Marvin's words, all he heard was an end to the uncertainty and he jumped at the chance for that inviting mercy.

'YESYESYES OHOPLEASEYES!'

Jackie practically yelled with joy, and swiftly let out a gasp of happy relief when he felt the two offending hands draw back from his body for the first time. Jackie breathed deep as he listened out for his captor's reply. Though....he'd probably wish he hadn't, since it marked the bout of REAL tickle torture.

'As you wish.'

Marvin's voice trickled out in the form of a smooth growl....and that was the first sign to Jackie that he'd made a grave mistake.

'Wh-what do yo-AAAEEEEE!!! FAHAHAHACK NAHAHAHA SHIHIT!!!'

During his reply, Marvin had slowly but surely been manoeuvring so he was down on his knees....his head level with Jackie's legs. He had hugged one of Jackie's shins to his chest before going to town and nibbling every inch of Jackie's thigh that the cheeky magician could reach.

'Now, now language! I knew I should have brought a gag.....'

Marvin teased as he nipped the flesh, Jackie's shrieking laughter spurring him to continue with true vigorous enthusiasm. The hero himself.....had never known such ticklishness. Sure, he'd been tickled countless times....but the situation, the technique, the place...all these circumstances combined just made the experience so unbearable and evil. Jackie had never felt more ticklish and weak, and it broke him.

'AHAHAHANYWHEHEHERE BUHUHUT THEHEHEEERE!!!'

Jackie cried out frantically, he was in disbelief. It tickled so damn much it tickled so damn much, the voice was echoing and teasing and....it was...almost....freeing, in a way. Jackie's mind hardly had the time to settle on any specific thoughts now of course, particularly with Marvin sneering.

'Not here? But this is what you asked for Jackie!'

Marvin's smirk was diabolical as he moved onto the second thigh, starting to reach the inner flesh which coaxed a new bout of mirth from Jackie.

'IHIHIHI DIHIHIDN'T MEHEAN IHIT LIHIKE THIHIHIHIIIIS!!!'

Jackie was thrashing like his life depended on it.....and that's when he realised. His captor had been right....true to his word.....''I am going to tickle you until it's all your mind will ever know.'' It WAS all that his mind knew.

'Oh Jackie....if only you had been specific before.'

Jackie thought he was going to scream at what his tormentor did next....he didn't even hear him take the breath, he only felt the sloppy raspberry rippling up and down his thigh.

'PLEHEHEHEEEEE IHIHIHIHI-!!!'

Jackie did scream....he couldn't hold it in, and Marvin was preparing himself to unleash an onslaught of that delectable fruit; but rescue reared its righteous head. There was suddenly a loud banging emanating from the door into the workout area, which made Marvin move sharply away from his task. Jackie could have cried out to the heavens right there and then as the barrage of muffled voices reached his ear, and he managed to gasp for air and whimpery thank yous trickled into the air from his lips. Marvin meanwhile couldn't help but frown....he hadn't finished.....but he concluded in his mind that he'd subjected Jackie to more than enough. He'd taken down the hero. Marvin observed Jackie's shivery form for a few moments....like he was thinking. Jackie sharply gasped when he felt a hand cup his covered face and a voice in his ear.

'It seems our time is to be cut short, dear hero.....goodbye. I hope you had as I did.'

Marvin planted a swift kiss where Jackie's hidden cheek was....then he was gone. No sooner had he dissipated away, there was a crash, and Jackie could hear the voices getting closer....familiar voices. The voices he needed.

'Qvick qvick, oh he must be exhausted-'

'Help me with the ropes dude, yeah yeah, okay get his vest....'

Jackie could see. He had to squint at first, since the lights were back like they'd never been tampered with at all. Then he saw them....everyone. His wrists had been released and he was being supported by Chase and the good doctor, both of whom were looking at him with concern. Jackie's senses were coming back to him at normal levels now, first the supportive hold of those two, then the feeling of someone holding his hand. Jackie blinked a few times, then smiled fondly to see Robbie cuddling one of his hands affectionately. Next was Jamie....the sweet mute man was dabbing his forehead with an intricate handkerchief whilst moving his hair....stroking it softly and fixing it back into place. Jackie could feel himself coming back to a state of calm security, the soothing contact working wonders.

'We were too late.'

Jackie blinked a few times as he looked to the side, curious as to the source of the gruff voice. Everyone else did too, and soon Shawn Flynn had everyone's attention. He'd been examining what had kept Jackie restrained....and at his words, everyone in the room seemed to understand what he meant. Except Jackie. The hero cleared his throat, looking around as he tried to speak.

'Wh-what....h-how....?'

'It's okay bud, we can explain everythin' to ye.'

Jackie tilted his head when he saw Angus approach him with a reassuring smile, he noticed Anti at his side too, they both seemed a little out of breath-ah. Of course. They'd been the ones to get the door off its hinges. Jackie looked at Angus patiently as he began to speak.

'Yer ah....not the first. To be....tickled uniquely. It's Marvin. He's had this....mission, seeking all of us as a task. Every time he gets someone he ticks em off. I only realised cuz he revealed himself to me...'

Angus' next few sentences became a little fuzzy for Jackie....all he could think about was Marvin. Marvin was saying those things, touching him like that....Marvin kissed him. Jackie could feel himself getting breathless so he snapped out of it, refocusing on Angus.

'-Anti's te' only one he hasn't gotten, but anyway te' point is we need a fuckin' plan to get him back!'

Before Jackie could reply properly, the room became filled with everyone's voices, and Jamie's signing, as suggestion after suggestion flew through; it was rather hectic, but when AREN'T the septics hectic?

'Ze important part is catching-'

'-see us coming though!'

'Not if we anticipa-'

'I'm gonna get that cheeky fuc-'

'OBVIOUS!'

Everyone. Frickin. Jumped out of their skins. Anti even glitched back a few centimetres when Robbie the Zombie interjected the rabble with quite some confidence. He bowed his head softly when everyone stared....but they were his family, so he continued resolutely. He raised his arm....and pointed.

'Last one. We.....set trap?'

Anti. He'd been pointing at Anti. Everyone realised simultaneously....of course Marvin had wanted to save Anti till last; victory over the glitch would be his crowning glory. Everyone shared a look....it was a look of agreement. Soon, seven pairs of eyes were locked onto Antisepticeye. It didn't take long for him to smirk resolutely and muse.

'Well....seven down, and one to go I guess.'

WOOOOOO I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN A FIC SO FAST H E C K YE WHO NEEDS SLEEP ahem I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT LUV YOOOOUS XXX

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